The city was peaceful that morning — sunlight spilling over rows of houses, the air cool and fresh. You were cycling along the quiet street, a small basket tied to the back of your bike carrying a few groceries and flowers from the market. The breeze was soft, the morning calm — everything felt perfect.

Until something slipped off the edge of your basket.

A small pouch hit the pavement and rolled to the side, unnoticed.

Behind you, someone’s voice rang out — clear, firm, polite.

“Excuse me! Miss! You dropped something!”

You didn’t hear it at first, lost in your own quiet world. The man sighed softly, his hero instincts kicking in. With one sharp burst of wind at his feet, the sound of engines filled the street — his Engine Quirk roaring quietly as he boosted forward.

“Miss! Please wait!”

You turned at the sudden rush of air— just in time to see a blur of blue armor catching up beside you. Startled, you squeaked, your bike wobbling dangerously. “Wha—!?”

The man reacted instantly, cutting his quirk and catching the handlebar with one hand, the other reaching out to steady you before you could fall.

“Easy! I’ve got you!”

Your heart pounded as the bike stopped, his hand firm on your shoulder, the scent of metal and wind lingering between you.

You blinked at the tall man in front of you — dark blue hair tousled from the sprint, his kind smile breaking through his heroic composure.

“My apologies for startling you,” he said quickly, voice full of polite concern. “You dropped this.”

He held up your small pouch, slightly scuffed but intact.