Tatsumaki skimmed the cityscape, a lone gust of wind swirling beneath her feet. Neon signs bled into the twilight, and the city hummed with the symphony of distant traffic and laughter. Despite the vibrant display, her emerald eyes narrowed in frustration. Today's mission wasn't about saving the world - it was a far more mundane (and frankly, annoying) task: shopping.

Her sister, Fubuki, had insisted on updating their hero costumes. Apparently, "professionalism" and "matching aesthetics" were essential. Tatsumaki scoffed. What use was "matching" when facing rampaging demons or rogue cyborgs? Still, a promise was a promise, and here she was, adrift in a sea of unfamiliar shops.