My World My JUSTICE Ch. 35: Hopping Hearts Pt.2 ♥ (Patreon)

A new day arrives, and I wake up pretty happy to find I'm still myself; still Daniel, not True Might. So that ticket is just as advertised: 24 hours, and now I should have about 8 hours left, which is still plenty of time.

I probably should have set a timer to keep things on track, but whatever.

I can't help but grin as I go through a pretty standard morning routine as a normal person.

Obviously, I couldn't stay the entire night with Rumi. We had to go our separate ways eventually, and by the time we finally called it quits after burgers, fries, more competition, and just walking around talking, it was past 2 AM. Yeah, with everything going on lately it was actually quite safe to be out this late in Brockton Bay now. 

Heh, my hero work paid off in so many ways, and I'm reaping those benefits.

But to make the most of my limited time, I pulled an all-nighter with Futaba playing games; which is the reason why I'm now carefully tucking the exhausted otaku girl into her bed after she literally passed out mid fight. 

Just made sure to take off her glasses, just for safety.

I quietly close the door to her bedroom and head back to my apartment for a quick shower and change of clothes before meeting up with Rumi again.

Yeah, we'd already made plans to make the most of whatever hours I have left. I'd briefly considered meeting up with a few other people like Taylor or Collin, but after thinking it through, it seemed better not to. This time is precious and limited, and I want to spend it doing what I want for once; and that means dating with an adorable but kickass rabbit heroine.

After a quick shower, I dress in a black leather jacket over a white shirt and dark jeans. Nothing fancy, but comfortable and decent-looking for a casual date.

With preparations done, I leave my apartment and do the most normal thing possible; I hail a taxi instead of bunny-hopping across rooftops. The driver gives me a casual nod after I tell him the destination, and I settle into the back seat, enjoying the view of the city from a completely different perspective than usual.

After paying for the ride, I walk inside the mall, noting there aren't too many people coming in or out yet. It's still relatively early for shopping crowds, after all, barely past 10 AM on a weekend.

I calmly find a free cushioned bench near the main entrance and sit down to wait for my date. Some people turn to look at me; curious glances more than anything, probably wondering why some unusually large guy is just sitting there alone but they quickly return to their own business.

It takes a few more minutes of waiting before my date finally arrives.

"Huh?"

Rumi is wearing that ridiculous disguise again: a big tan trench coat that goes down to her knees, a giant floppy hat, oversized sunglasses, and a blue surgical mask covering the lower half of her face. It's almost the exact same outfit she wore back at that PRT charity event months ago.

"Hey, big guy," she greets with her usual confidence, which is such a stark contrast to the comically bad disguise that it makes me chuckle as I stand up.

"Uh... why the whole cartoonish spy look?" I ask, gesturing vaguely at her outfit.

The heroine checks her surroundings before leaning in slightly, lowering her voice. "It's morning on a weekend, so a lot of people will recognize me if I don't cover up. And trust me, they'll swarm us and pester us endlessly if they do. I really don't want to waste an hour signing autographs, taking selfies, and explaining why I'm hanging out with some random big dude, you know?"

She adjusts her sunglasses even though they're already perfectly positioned. "At least like this, I'm just another weirdo in a trench coat. Mall's full of them on weekends."

I rub the back of my neck with a smile. "You should have said something yesterday. I would've come dressed like that too. We could've been matching weirdos and committed to the bit."

"Nah, leave it. You look good like that," she says, and I can hear the grin in her voice. "It suits you."

"And I bet you do too, under all that," I reply without thinking.

"You bet!" she shoots back playfully.

There's a brief pause, then I decide to just go for it. "So, should we go arm-in-arm or hands holding?"

Mirko just bursts into laughter and punches my stomach. "I'm not that kind of girl, big guy! We just started this whole thing yesterday. Don't get ahead of yourself or I'll kick your ass right here."

"Fair enough," I shrug, keeping my smile.

"The rule is: don't be a dork and don't get clingy," she finally adds, but there's no real heat in it. "We're just... hanging out. Like yesterday… Uh… Yeah like yesterday with some extra stuff.."

"Got it. I'll try my best."

"You're already failing," she laughs.

So our date starts walking through the mall together. We hit up various stores, not really shopping for anything specific but just browsing and talking. 

At a small café kiosk, we grab some overpriced coffee and ridiculously large cookies almost half the size of my hand.

"So, honest question," Mirko says, pulling down her mask just enough to take a bite of her cookie. "What's the weirdest thing about being True Might? Like, day-to-day stuff that nobody would think about."

I consider that while sipping my coffee. "Probably the fact that I can't order food normally anymore. I mean, I can cook at home just fine, but I'd love to enjoy some fast food or go to a restaurant once in a while without turning it into a whole spectacle. You saw me order that one time; that's how I have to do it every single time."

She nearly chokes on her cookie from laughing. "Oh yeah, I remember that! You literally announced your sandwich order like you were declaring war on hunger itself. I had to translate for the poor guy, he was so confused."

"Trust me, it gets old fast," I reply, but I allow myself to smile despite the frustration. "What about you? What's the most annoying part of being a hero in your opinion?"

"The paperwork," she answers immediately without hesitation. "People don't realize how much bureaucratic bullshit comes with being independent. When I was starting out, I had to deal with mountains of that crap; incident reports, damage assessments, insurance claims. Paperwork has screwed me over more times than actual villains."

"Really? I figured you just... didn't do it and let it pile up."

"Oh, I tried that at first," she admits with a wicked grin visible even through her mask. "Turns out being independent doesn't mean you can ignore the bureaucracy entirely. Who knew? Now I just beat up bad guys and leave them gift-wrapped for the authorities. Let the paper-pushers handle their precious forms. Though they always find ways to screw me over anyway with technicalities and fine print."

I wince sympathetically. "Yeah, sorry about that medical bill. If I'd known, I would have taken you straight to Panacea even if it meant dragging you to a high school campus."

"HA! Yeah, kinda on me 'cause I signed without looking at the details," she laughs, shaking her head. "But I got it solved eventually with some modeling gigs. Made decent money and paid it off."

"Never picked you as someone into modeling."

"Don't get me wrong, big guy-I LOVE fashion. Didn't I mention that I designed my own costume? That badass and sexy outfit is 100% my work. The only reason I don't do more modeling professionally is 'cause the contracts are usually garbage and they always make me wear terrible combinations. Like, I don't mind showing skin or playing up how hot I am, but they're terrible at styling. They don't know how to combine clothes properly and it drives me crazy, since I could've done a much better job myself."

"So why didn't you? Start your own thing or whatever?"

"Paperwork."

"Ah."

"Yep. Hate that shit with a passion," she says flatly. "Would rather fight Lung again than fill out business forms or taxes."

We pass by an arcade, and my partner’s ears perk up visibly under her hat. "Oh shit, they have that new racing game everyone's been talking about! Come on, we're doing this."

"I thought you didn't want to attract attention," I point out.

"Yeah, well, sometimes you gotta take risks for the things that matter," she says, already pulling me by the sleeve toward the entrance. "Besides, nobody pays attention to people in arcades."

She's not wrong. We spend the next half hour competing viciously at various arcade games. Racing games where she absolutely destroys me, fighting games where I manage to hold my own a bit better, and even one of those ridiculous dancing rhythm games where the heroine somehow wins despite her disguise limiting her movement.

"How are you this good at everything?" I complain after losing the third racing game in a row by a humiliating margin.

"Natural talent, baby!" she crows, doing a petty victory pose with her fists. "Plus, I spent plenty of time in arcades when I was younger. Cheaper than most other entertainment, and I could make a few coins last for hours if I was good enough. Became a regular at a place near my old apartment."

I didn't expect to hear that from her, to be honest. Mirko as a gamer? That's a surprisingly new side to her. "Lucky you. I didn't get many chances to do stuff like this growing up."

"What kind of kid were you then?" she asks, curiosity in her voice as she leans against the cabinet.

I let out a sigh, debating how much to share. "I know this sounds cliché, but... not a really nice childhood. Orphan, broke most of the time, so yeah—not much time or money to spend on games or fun stuff. Got picked on a lot too for being the scrawny kid."

"Mmm, yeah, I guess that is pretty cliché..." She pauses, then quickly adds, "Not trying to be offensive or mock you or anything! But I guess I kinda expected to hear something like that. It just... fits, you know? The biggest, strongest hero having some tragic backstory. That's usually how it goes in comics and movies." She sounds genuinely frustrated with herself. "It sucks that I expected this, and it turns out to be true. Makes me feel like an ass for assuming."

"Don't worry about it," I say honestly. "It's in the past. I'm doing better now, obviously."

"Still sucks though," she mutters, then deliberately shifts gears. "Alright, enough depressing shit. Let's hit the shooting games so I can kick your ass some more."

We grab lunch from the food court; some big burrito bowls that the rabbit girl devours with zero mercy, finally pulling off her mask entirely since we're sitting in a relatively secluded corner booth.

"So what's your actual plan after tomorrow?" she asks between bites. "Like, long-term hero stuff. What's the endgame?"

"Keep doing what I'm doing," I say, thinking it through. "Fight the good fight, help people, try to make the city better. Start some more charities to address root causes instead of just symptoms, that kind of thing. Maybe eventually branch out to other cities if Brockton Bay gets stable enough, though that's probably months away." 

"Oh no, we'll be out of a job!" she laughs sarcastically before taking another massive bite. "Still crazy how much has changed with you around. City's actually getting better for once instead of just circling the drain."

"Yeah, well, I'm kind of making this up as I go," I admit. "No master plan or anything. Just trying to do good where I can. What about you? What's the endgame for the great Mirko?"

She's quiet for a moment, chewing thoughtfully, and I can see something shift in her expression. "Honestly? I used to think I'd just keep fighting until something finally took me down. Go out in a blaze of glory doing what I love, you know? Die with my boots on, preferably while kicking some S-class threat in the face. Maybe Leviathan if I ever got the chance during an Endbringer fight."

"Used to think?" I pick up on the past tense.

"Yeah," she says, looking at me with an expression I can't quite read. "I told you, didn’t I? Recently I've been thinking maybe there's value in sticking around longer. Seeing where things go. Not rushing toward the dramatic ending quite so fast. Living for something instead of just... waiting to die gloriously in a shitty world."

There's clearly more behind that statement, but I don't push.

"That's good," I say simply. "The world needs you around."

"Tch, getting sappy on me again," she says, but she's smiling. "But yeah. Maybe I'll try this whole 'not having a death wish' thing. See how it works out."

"Speaking of which; you've been teaching Taylor in private?" I change the subject.

"Of course I did, you idiot! You're still missing some important fundamentals in your training regimen," she says matter-of-factly. "That girl's got potential and determination for days, but she needs proper technique so she doesn't pull a muscle or develop bad habits. She can kick plenty of ass now. Still needs work, but she's coming along nicely."

"Thanks for that," I say. "She needed someone like you."

Well, I was only building her muscle and endurance… And also good eating habits since I was subsidizing it.

"Yeah, well, don't make it weird. I don’t like teaching brats, this was just an exception."

We finish eating and continue our wandering through the mall, eventually reaching the cinema section. There's a large poster for that Earth Aleph movie she had mentioned yesterday.

"Oh shit, it's actually showing today!" she says with genuine excitement, practically bouncing on her feet. "We're watching this. Non-negotiable."

"I wasn't going to argue," I laugh, already heading toward the ticket counter.

We grab two tickets and some overpriced popcorn and drinks before heading into the theater. The movie turns out to be an action-comedy that's actually funny; not boring jokes or cheap gags, but clever writing paired with cool fights. It reminds me of Jackie Chan's golden era movies.

When it ends and we walk back out into the mall's bright fluorescent lighting, Rumi has completely forgotten about her disguise. The mask is dangling around her neck; the hat is pushed back, and she's practically vibrating with excitement.

"Did you see that warehouse fight? The 1 versus 5 where he used the environment and turned everything into a weapon?" She's making exaggerated gestures, recreating some of the moves perfectly. "That's exactly my style! Those guys must have studied real martial arts because some of those combinations were legit. Never expected to see moves like that in a movie!"

"Kinda crazy that we could easily pull those moves off in real life," I comment. "Watching it on the big screen is different than actually doing it, though."

"Right?!" She's grinning widely now, completely in her element and not caring who's looking. "And that final fight on the rooftop and the—"

My phone rings, interrupting her enthusiastic breakdown of fight choreography. I check it and see a message from Futaba.

'Got a surprise for both of you. Go outside the mall. Trust me ;)'

"Something up?" Rumi asks, noticing my expression change.

"Yeah, our mutual friend says she has a surprise for us," I explain, showing her the message.

"Huh. That twerp?" Mirko looks intrigued, her ears perking up with interest. "Can't say I'm not curious now. She planning something weird?"

"With Oracle, it's always at least a little weird but in a good way."

We make our way to the mall exit, and I'm confused when we spot a sleek, expensive-looking black car parked prominently in the passenger loading zone. It's the kind of vehicle that screams money.

A professional-looking guy in sunglasses and a clean suit notices us immediately and walks over.

"Mr. Daniel? Ms. Usagiyama?" he asks politely, his tone perfectly professional. "I'll be taking you to your next destination. Please, come with me."

What the hell?

I can see my date is equally caught off guard, her ears standing straight up under her hat in surprise.

We exchange a confused glance, trying to silently communicate what the hell is happening, and then my phone buzzes again with a new message.

'You're welcome! Have fun you two! :) :) :)'

"Well, she's clearly inviting us somewhere specific," I say uncertainly, still processing this series of new events. "So... I guess there's no problem?"

"This is either going to be amazing or a complete disaster, guess we're finding out which." She shrugs.

The driver opens the rear door for us, and we climb into the spacious back seat of what I now realize is basically a luxury car—possibly a limousine or high-end sedan. Never was an expert on cars so cannot really tell them apart. The interior is immaculate: plush leather seats, tinted windows, climate control, the works.

The driver gestures to two expensive-looking garment boxes sitting on the seat. "Those are your outfits for the restaurant. You'll have time to change when we arrive at the venue."

I open the first box carefully and find a really nice suit inside; not ultra-formal like a tuxedo, but still elegant and clearly expensive. Tailored, high-quality fabric and the design too, despite not being somebody knowledgeable about fashion I can still tell this looks really good. 

And there's a small note attached in neat handwriting: 

"The finest for the finest, from the Dollhouse. Signed, Parian."

Ah. Futaba commissioned this from Parian, that cape who makes clothes. That was an incredibly fast turnaround, that girl must have paid extremely well or been planning this for much longer than I thought.

I glance to my side and see Rumi staring at her box with wide eyes. Inside is a long black dress with some gold parts that looks incredibly detailed even from this angle, elegant, sophisticated and quite revealing judging by the strips. She's just... staring at it, frozen, a deep blush creeping onto her face.

Then she notices me looking out of the corner of her eye and quickly hugs the dress protectively to her chest, almost like she is trying to hide it from me.

That’s cute.

"So, uh," I clear my throat, looking at the driver to break the awkward moment. "Where exactly can we change into these?"

"We're heading to the location now; it's approximately a twenty-minute drive," he explains smoothly, his tone never wavering from professional. "There will be private changing rooms available when we arrive. Your friend Oracle made all the necessary arrangements in advance."

"Of course she did."

The heroine is still clutching that dress like it might disappear. "That twerp really doesn't do anything halfway, does she?"

"Not even a little bit." I confirm.

As the car pulls smoothly away from the mall, Rumi finally finds her voice again. "You know this is absolutely insane, right? Like, we were trying to be discreet and low-key, but with this fancy car and custom outfits? We're totally going to grab a lot of attention wherever we're going."

"Yeah," I agree, still trying to process this unexpected development. "But also kind of amazing?"

"Yeah," she admits, and that competitive grin returns to her face as she looks at the dress with renewed determination. "Also kind of amazing. That twerp and this Parian got good taste, I'll give them that."

------------------------------------------------------------

We cross through the tall glass doors, both elegantly dressed for the occasion. This place is clearly high-end because it’s the kind of establishment that screams exclusivity. It's located in downtown Brockton Bay, occupying one of the top floors of a sleek modern building with floor-to-ceiling windows offering panoramic views of the city.

Yeah, Futaba didn't pull any punches with this surprise. I'll definitely make it up to her later, I swear.

Rumi is walking beside me, hugging my arm and staying close with a light blush coloring her cheeks. Even I can tell she's never done anything quite like this before.

And that dress. Holy shit, that dress.

It's a stunning black gown with a halter neckline that shows off her muscular shoulders and arms perfectly; not hiding her athletic build but emphasizing it in the best possible way. The fabric hugs her toned figure beautifully, and delicate gold chain detailing cascades down the sides and across her hips in elegant layers, catching the light with every movement. The dress manages to be both sophisticated and bold at the same time; exactly her style. Her long white hair is styled down and slightly wavy rather than in her usual practical ponytail, and she's even wearing makeup that emphasizes her red eyes and adds a soft glow to her dark skin, complete with red lipstick.

She looks absolutely gorgeous. I mean, she was gorgeous in her hero costume too, but this? This is a different kind of gorgeous.

The host, a professionally dressed man with impeccable posture, quickly attends to us as we approach the entrance.

"Good afternoon, esteemed guests. Name for your reservation?" he asks politely.

"Daniel and Rumi Usagiyama."

He quickly verifies the reservation on his tablet, and his expression shifts to one of perfect hospitality. "Ah yes, welcome! Right this way, please."

He detaches the velvet rope blocking the path to the main dining area and guides us through the restaurant. The interior is breathtaking; soft lighting from elegant chandeliers, white tablecloths on every table, the quiet murmur of refined conversation, classical music playing softly in the background. Everything about this place screams class.

But he doesn't stop at the main dining room. Instead, he leads us toward a set of French doors at the back of the restaurant.

Our table is the only one set up on the private balcony. It's perfectly decorated with candles, fresh flowers in an elegant vase, and pristine white linens. The view is amazing; the city skyline spreads out before us on one side, while the other direction offers a glimpse of the ocean in the distance, the water sparkling in the afternoon sun. The air is cool and pleasant with a gentle breeze, and the space feels intimate despite being outdoors.

"Your table," the host announces with a slight bow. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."

We take our seats across from each other, and almost immediately a server appears; impeccably dressed in black and white, with a bottle of wine. He fills both our glasses before handing us each a menu that looks like it was printed on expensive cardstock with gold embossing on the edges.

A little over the top, maybe, but I guess it's part of the whole experience. Or maybe they're expecting a really good tip.

"We'll return shortly to take your order. Please enjoy your time," the server says with a professional smile before retreating to give us privacy.

"Wow.." Mirko breathes out, looking around with wide eyes and her ears perking up as she takes it all in. "So this is what a high-end place actually looks like. I mean, I've seen fancy restaurants from the outside when patrolling, but actually being in one? This is the next level."

"Yeah, I didn't expect Oracle to go this all out," I admit, still taking in every detail. "This is... incredible."

"Even if this isn't really my usual scene, the person who designed this place has seriously good taste," she says, examining the elegant table settings and the panoramic view with an appreciative eye. "Everything fits together. Classy without being stuffy or pretentious."

"Yeah, I can definitely agree with that," I say, then can't help but clap my hands together and rub them. I'm actually really looking forward to tasting the food here; who knows when I'll get another chance like this? 

Rumi laughs at my enthusiasm, clearly amused by my almost childlike excitement. "You're such a dork sometimes, you know tha-"

But then her ears perk up straight as she opens the menu, and she lets out a low whistle of surprise. "Holy shit, these prices! Is this appetizer seriously one hundred and twenty dollars?! For like, five bites of food?!"

I just chuckle, glancing at my own menu and seeing similarly astronomical numbers. "It's not a problem, really. My treat, and honestly, when else are we gonna do something like this? Might as well enjoy it."

Rumi rolls her eyes, but she's smiling warmly. "Okay, fine. You can play the gentleman with me this time, big guy. But don't think I'm gonna make a habit of letting you pay for everything. Next time I'm buying."

"Next time?" I can't help but grin.

"Shut up," she says, but she's blushing. "You know what I mean."

After some thinking and help with the server who returns to take our order; and who patiently explains several unfamiliar dishes without a hint of condescension, we end up selecting an appetizer of Beef Tenderloin Tartare, a main course of Filet Mignon with seasonal vegetables and truffle butter, and for dessert, Chocolate-Balsamic Pots de Crème.

"Kinda weird that all fancy food is always French in some way," I observe after the server leaves with our order. "I always wondered why that's usually the case. Like, couldn't high-end dining be Italian or Japanese or something else?"

"Probably some historical snobbery thing," Rumi says with a shrug, taking a sip of her wine. "French cooking became associated with royalty and fancy shit centuries ago, so it stuck. Europe's whole thing was France setting trends for a long time. Who knows?"

Huh, she is quite knowledgeable in history it seems.

We settle into comfortable conversation while waiting for our food. Mirko takes another sip of her wine; not her usual drink of choice based on the slight face she makes but she seems to be relaxing into the atmosphere despite being out of her comfort zone.

"So…" she starts, leaning back in her chair and studying me with * curiosity, "we've talked a lot about hero stuff and some other surface-level things, but I feel like I don't actually know that much about the real you. Like, what makes Daniel tick when he's not busy being Mr. Justice and punching bad guys?"

"That's fair," I admit. "What do you want to know?"

She takes another drink of wine, and I notice her posture loosening a bit. "I don't know... like, why'd you even become a hero in the first place? Most people with powers go villain or rogue for the money and easy life. You went independent and immediately started making waves, picking fights with the Empire and the Merchants."

I consider how to answer that honestly without revealing too much about the company. "I guess... I didn't really have much going for me before triggering. Orphan, broke, no real prospects or future. Then suddenly I had powers, and could actually fight back against the bad people who run this city. It was like that far-away dream you have when you're at the bottom, and suddenly it's within reach." I pause. "But I won't lie to you, I did think for a moment about going the easy way. Taking what I wanted, using my strength for myself."

"And what changed, big guy?" she asks, leaning forward.

"You."

Her eyes go wide, her ears standing straight up in surprise.

"If it wasn't for you showing up when you did, I would have killed Mush that night," I admit honestly. "And then maybe I would've kept picking fights, kept escalating, screaming about some twisted sense of justice while becoming exactly what I hated. But with you there... I stopped myself. I actually thought things through and decided to drop it and go through the proper channels as a new trigger and then be an actual hero."

Huh, I was a little unhinged before.

"So I... I saved you?" She looks genuinely stunned by this revelation. "I mean, you beat my ass back then…yeah, I know, admitting defeat and all that, but hey, that was a really good fight. Best I'd had in years, honestly. Never felt so alive." She pauses, adjusting a strand of loose hair self-consciously. "But well, uhmmm... you're welcome, Daniel. Glad I could help, I guess."

"And you know the rest," I continue. "My official debut as True Might by stopping the bank robbery, declaring to fight for the innocent and uphold the true justice that this world desperately needs."

"That's pretty noble," she says, and there's no mockery in her tone, just honest respect. "Most people wouldn't see it that way. Most people would see new powers as an opportunity to get rich or get revenge or just take what they want. I've seen plenty of those in my career."

"I know. That's why we're dealing with a two-to-one ratio of villains to heroes," I shrug. "But I've been on the receiving end of people not helping when they could have. People looking the other way, ignoring problems because it wasn't their business. I didn't want to be that person anymore. Couldn't be."

My date is quiet for a moment, swirling the wine in her glass thoughtfully. "Yeah, I get that. More than you might think, actually."

There's something in her tone that makes me think she's about to open up about something personal, but then she seems to catch herself and quickly changes direction, taking another sip.

"What about you?" I ask, giving her an out if she needs it. "Why the solo hero thing? You're clearly talented enough to join any team you wanted. The Protectorate would probably kill to have you."

I kind of know the answer from what she's said before, but I really want to hear it directly from her.

"Told you before, I think relying on teams makes you weak and I really hate those paperpushers, even more now with the shit they tried to pull on me." she says, but there's less aggressive bite in it than usual. "But also..." She pauses, seeming to consider her words carefully. "I guess I never felt like I fit anywhere. Too aggressive for the hero teams, too independent, too... I don't know, too much for most people. They want you to tone it down, play nice, follow the rules even when the rules are stupid. Easier to just do my own thing and not worry about fitting into someone else's mold."

"I don't think you're too much," I say honestly, meeting her eyes. "I think you're exactly the right amount of Mirko. The world needs people who don't pull their punches, literally and figuratively."

Bullshit red tape system has caused a lot of harm to Earth-bet after all.

She looks at me with an expression I can't quite read, her ears twitching slightly. "You're such a sap sometimes, you know that?"

"Perhaps, but you like it," I shoot back with a grin.

"Maybe," she admits with a small smile that reaches her eyes. "But don't let it go to your head, big guy."

That's when our appetizer arrives; small portions of finely diced beef tenderloin mixed with capers, shallots, and other ingredients I can't identify, artfully arranged on the plate with microgreens and what might be edible flowers.

We both take the first bite, and the flavors are incredible; rich, complex, perfectly balanced.

"Okay, this is actually fantastic," Mirko admits after finishing her portion quickly. "I was worried it'd be all style and no substance, all presentation and tiny portions, but this actually delivers on taste."

"Agreed," I say, savoring the last bite and wishing there was more.

The conversation shifts to lighter topics as we wait for the main course that being pets, surprisingly.

"You know, I kinda wish I could have a pet," Rumi admits somewhat wistfully, staring out at the view. "But I've never really had the time for one. Or honestly, the money until recently. Hard to afford proper pet care when you're barely covering rent and hero expenses."

Yeah, heroics never pay.

"What about a gecko?" I suggest.

"A gecko?" She raises an eyebrow skeptically.

"Yeah, they're pretty easy to care for and not high maintenance at all. Feed them crickets, keep the tank clean, done. Unless you want a challenge, then maybe a turtle. They live forever and require actual long-term commitment."

Mirko just bursts out laughing, hitting the table lightly with her palm. "Me with a turtle?! Isn't that like, ultra ironic? The rabbit hero with a turtle pet? That's some cartoon shit right there! Like Bugs Bunny adopting a tortoise!"

I chuckle, taking another sip of wine. "Hey, opposites attract, right? Plus, you could name it something ridiculous and confuse the hell out of everyone. 'This is my pet turtle, Lightning Bolt.'"

"Tempting," she grins widely. "Though I'm more of a cat person if I'm being honest. Something independent that doesn't need constant attention and can take care of itself. Fits my lifestyle better."

"That tracks." 

After that we keep talking; about childhood memories, embarrassing moments we'd rather forget, favorite foods, random preferences that don't matter but somehow feel important. The conversation flows easily, naturally, and I find myself genuinely enjoying just... talking with her. No heroics, no performance, no drama. Just two people getting to know each other.

Finally, our main course arrives, and both our eyes widen at the presentation. The Filet Mignon is cooked to absolute perfection—medium rare with a beautiful sear on the outside that's almost caramelized. The seasonal vegetables are arranged artistically around it like edible art, and there's a small ramekin of truffle butter on the side that smells incredible.

Rumi cuts into hers immediately and takes the first bite, and I watch as her ears flatten completely against her head, her eyes close, and she lets out an involuntary hum of pure pleasure that makes her blush immediately after when she realizes what she just did.

"Oh my god," she mumbles around the bite, not even caring about manners. "This is stupid good. Like, unreasonably, unfairly good. How is meat this tender?"

I try mine and have to agree; it's genuinely one of the best steaks I've ever had in both lives. Perfectly seasoned, incredibly tender, practically melting in my mouth. The truffle butter adds this rich, earthy complexity that elevates everything to another level of tasty.

"Fancy place, fancy food, fancy taste—it all fits together perfectly," I say after savoring another bite. "Definitely worth the insane price tag. But you know what? I'd still buy a greasy burger from a corner store tomorrow and be just as happy."

"Of course you would," Rumi laughs warmly. "Same here. This is amazing, don't get me wrong, but sometimes you just want greasy comfort food that doesn't require a second mortgage, you know?"

We continue eating in comfortable silence for a bit, both too focused on the incredible meal to talk much.

But then I notice Mirko's posture changing. She's glancing repeatedly to her left side toward the interior of the restaurant, and she's stopped eating despite having plenty left on her plate. Her ears are twitching nervously, and she's shifted in her seat multiple times.

"What's wrong?" I ask, feeling a little concerned. "Why aren't you eating? Food's getting cold."

She shifts uncomfortably again, setting down her fork and knife. "It's just... this is a first for me, you know? Dressing up like this, fancy restaurant, the whole formal date thing. And now..." She glances to the side again through the glass doors. "So many people inside are staring at us through the windows. Like, yeah, I'm used to attention when I'm out on the streets patrolling and kicking ass, being recognized as a hero. But this? It's different. I feel... I don't know, exposed? Vulnerable?" She looks frustrated with herself. "It's stupid, but I can't shake it-"

She doesn't finish, looking uncomfortable in a way I've never seen from her before.

Yet I'm still surprised to hear this from the ever-confident Mirko; the woman who faces down villains without hesitation, who thrives on challenges, who never backs down from anything. But this social vulnerability, being on display in a romantic context, is clearly affecting her in a way that fighting never does.

I smile gently and cut another piece of my steak, keeping my tone casual. "So what? Why would I care what random strangers think? I'm here for you, not them. They can stare all they want; doesn't change anything about this moment."

Rumi freezes mid-breath, her eyes widening significantly. Her face goes completely red, the blush spreading down her neck and further. Then she breaks into this huge  smile; not her usual cocky grin or competitive smirk, but something softer. She looks away quickly, adjusting her hair self-consciously with trembling fingers.

"You're the first person to ever treat me like this," she says quietly, her voice almost lost in the breeze. "Like I actually matter more than the hero persona or the tough girl act or what I can do for them. Just... me. The real me."

"You do matter," I say simply, meaning every word. "The real you—not just the hero, not just the fighter. You."

She doesn't respond with words, just reaches across the table and squeezes my hand briefly before going back to her meal with renewed enthusiasm, the discomfort completely gone from her expression.

After that moment, the rest of the date goes incredibly smoothly. We finish our main courses while trading stories, laugh genuinely at stupid jokes, and when the dessert arrives, rich chocolate pots de crème with a surprisingly pleasant balsamic undertone that shouldn't work but absolutely does, we're both completely relaxed and enjoying ourselves.

The sun is starting to set now, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and the city lights are beginning to come to life below us. We're leaning back in our chairs, pleasantly full, watching the transition from afternoon to evening.

My time is running out, yeah…

By the time we're done and the server brings the check; which I pay without even looking at the total because what's the point, I realize this might be one of the best days I've had in this entire new life.

And judging by the way Rumi keeps smiling at me when she thinks I'm not looking, I think she feels exactly the same way.

-----------------------------------------------------

I find myself sitting on the edge of a king-sized bed without my shirt, the only sound in the luxurious penthouse the steady rush of the shower running in the adjacent bathroom. I certainly should have seen this coming, but well... I was kind of expecting something entirely different when Futaba arranged all this.

I guess I was a little naïve there.

But it was mostly Mirko's doing, dragging me up here with that determined look in her eyes after the meal ended. Conveniently, this building also has a penthouse suite available; and apparently that scheming gamer girl had already booked it for us without mentioning a single word about it beforehand. 

That sneaky little gremlin knew exactly what she was doing.

I remember Rumi's expression when the restaurant manager casually mentioned the room reservation, her ears standing straight up in surprise before she grabbed my hand and practically pulled me toward the elevator without giving me time to process. Her excuse was something about "not wasting the reservation" and "wanting to see the view from up here," delivered with a forced casualness that didn't match the intense blush on her face at all. And I just... let myself go through the motions, because honestly?

Why not? We're both adults here. 

I look outside through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the city skyline spread out below. It's already evening now, the sun has fully set and the city lights are twinkling like stars scattered across the darkness. How long do I have left in this form? 

An hour? Maybe less?

The thought sends a sharp pang through my chest. Soon, I'll be back to my over the top hero persona, unable to have a normal conversation or express myself naturally ever again. Unless I get impossibly, ridiculously lucky with another lootbox pull, which seems unlikely at best.

Then I perk up as the shower stops abruptly, and my heart immediately starts hammering in my chest like it's trying to escape.

The bathroom door opens with a soft click, and Rumi emerges with her long white hair down and still damp, droplets of water trailing down her neck and disappearing beneath the collar of the white bathrobe she's wearing. The robe is clearly from the hotel, tied loosely at the waist. Her face is flushed a deep red that's visible even against her dark skin, and her ears are twitching nervously.

She's trying so hard to look brave and confident, channeling that trademark Mirko bravado, but I can see her hands trembling slightly as she approaches the bed. Her usual fierce demeanor is cracking at the edges.

She's beautiful. She's always been beautiful, but right now, in this moment she's absolutely breathtaking.

Rumi moves slowly across the room and sits beside me on the bed, close enough that our legs are almost touching. The scent of hotel shampoo mixed with her own natural smell fills my senses, making my head spin slightly.

She opens her mouth to speak, closes it, then tries again. Her ears flatten against her head in visible frustration.

"I-" she starts, then stops for a moment before she takes a deep breath. "Okay, listen, I know this is-"

Another pause. She's gripping the edge of the robe tightly.

Finally, she seems to gather her courage and determination, sitting up straighter and meeting my eyes directly with that burning intensity in those red eyes.

"Yes, this is way too sudden and I know that," she says in a rush, words tumbling out quickly. "Just as sudden as yesterday when I kissed you out of nowhere, when I admitted I liked you without any buildup. But you were completely honest with me about everything and about the timer, about not knowing if you'll ever get to be yourself like this again, about being stuck as True Might permanently and I..." She takes a shaky breath. "With that whole thing about you being on a limited clock, I really, really don't want to walk away from this moment regretting anything. Don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if’.'"

She looks away when she finishes talking.

I chuckle nervously, my own heart racing. "You don't have to force yourself to do anything for my sake, Rumi. I'll be fine either way, I promise."

I can live with that.

"Not for you, big guy," she interrupts firmly, shaking her head with determination. "For me."

She turns to face me fully now.

"These two days... I've been the happiest I've been in years. Maybe ever." she admits. "You made me feel like an actual person instead of just another cape, just another fighter. Like I actually mattered beyond what I could do in a fight or who I could beat up." Her voice cracks slightly on the last words. "And I know that soon you'll be True Might again—still you, but different. Filtered through that power thing you can't control. And I'm okay with that, I really am. I like both sides of you, the hammy hero and the real guy underneath."

She reaches out and takes my hand, lacing her fingers through mine.

"But I want to enjoy this last bit of Daniel properly. The you that made me this happy, that treated me like I was worth something more than my power." She looks away, blushing even harder if that's possible. "So yeah, this is me being completely selfish. Me not wanting to have regrets when I'm old and gray or dying in a ditch. Me taking what I want while I can."

"Rumi-"

She suddenly slaps my arm lightly in embarrassment, her ears standing up indignantly. "Don't make this more awkward than it already is! I'm dying here, big guy! I've never done this kind of thing before!"

"Sorry."

Rumi looks away again, fidgeting nervously with the belt of her robe, her blush spreading down her neck and probably more. "Just... tell me if you don't want this. If it's too fast or if you're not ready or if you think I'm being crazy or whatever. I'll understand. I'll be disappointed as hell and probably kick something, but I'll understand and back off."

Wow. I should probably be the one saying this, not the other way around, but I don't mind it in the slightest. It's very her—direct, honest, giving me the choice.

So I think carefully about what to do, what to say, about what I should add to this talk.

But ultimately, the choice is crystal clear.

I gently cup her cheek with one hand, feeling the warmth of her skin against my palm. She stills immediately, going completely motionless, her red eyes going wide as I carefully turn her face toward mine. Blue eyes meeting red in the soft golden lighting of the penthouse.

"I don't want you to have regrets either," I say quietly, meaning every single word. "And I don't want to regret not taking this chance when I had it."

And slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away if she changes her mind, I lean closer and capture her lips in a kiss.

Rumi makes a small sound of surprise, her breath catching sharply, but she doesn't pull back or hesitate. Instead, she leans into it, her eyes closing as she lets herself be kissed, her hand coming up to rest against my chest.

When we separate after a few heartbeats, we're both breathing considerably harder. Her hand comes up to touch her lips with trembling fingers, like she's confirming it really happened.

"That was..." she starts, then trails off.

Then I move again, leaning in for a second kiss; deeper this time. And that's when she wraps both arms around my neck and pulls me closer with surprising strength, kissing me back with all the fierce passion and determination that makes her who she is. 

When this kiss finally breaks, both of us are gasping for air with our heads pressed together. My hands are on her waist now, feeling her body through the thin robe. 

And then something shifts in her expression. A spark of that competitive fire returns to her eyes as the usual cocky grin cracks through.

"So…" she says, her voice lower and huskier now. "We're doing this?"

"We're doing this." I confirm, and that's all the encouragement she needs.

Rumi practically tackles me backward onto the bed. She straddles my waist in one smooth motion, her weight settling over me as she looks down with that fierce, determined expression.

"I-I'm in charge here," she declares, but there's a slight tremor in her voice that betrays her nervousness. Her fingers are trembling as they hover over the belt of her robe.

I reach up and cover her hands with mine. "Show me."

She takes a shaky breath, then her expression hardens with resolve. Her fingers finally find purchase on the belt, untying it with fumbling movements that are uncharacteristically clumsy. But soon enough the white bathrobe falls open, revealing her dark body.

My breath catches in my throat.

She's incredible just as I imagined. Every muscle is defined and toned, not bulky but lean and powerful. Her skin is smooth over wiry strength. Her breasts are good sized and perfectly shaped, with dusky nipples that are already hard.

She watches my face as I look at her, her nervousness visible in the twitch of her ears, the way she chews on her lower lip.

"L-Like what you see, big guy?" she asks, trying for her usual cocky tone.

"Yeah, you're beautiful," I say, and the simple honesty seems to hit her harder than anything else.

Her ears fold back slightly and a deep blush spreads across her cheeks. "S-Stop saying stuff like that."

With a chuckle I decide to go against her wishes and sit up, pulling her close for a reassuring hug. My hands slide around her waist, feeling the heat of her skin.

"I mean it."

Using that opening I lean in, kissing her neck. She shudders, her head tilting to give me better access. I can feel the delicate muscles tensing and relaxing under my lips. So I trail kisses down her throat, to the hollow of her collarbone. Her hands come up to tangle in my hair, holding me to her.

"D-Daniel..." she gasps as my mouth finds the sensitive skin just above her breast.

My hands roam her back, tracing the line of her spine. She's trembling slightly. I can feel the fine tremors running through her body.

I gently nudge her back onto the bed, following her down. I position myself above her, supporting my weight on my forearms.

"W-Wait," she says, her hands pressing against my chest. "I-I'm the one who's supposed to be in control here."

"Oops. My bad." I don’t waste a second to roll off her, landing on my back beside her. "Your show, boss."

She lets out a shaky laugh, then props herself up on her elbow, looking down at me.

"Don't call me boss," she replies, but there's no real heat in it.

She leans in, kissing me again. This one is different. Softer, more exploratory. Her tongue traces my lower lip, then slides into my mouth. With that kind of invitation I met her in kind, our tongues tangling together.

Her hand slides down my chest, her fingers tracing the muscles of my chest but quickly become aware as I feel her fingers reach my waistband.

In that moment the rabbit girl breaks the kiss, her breathing ragged. She looks down at me, her expression a mixture of nerves and determination.

"I've... I've never done this before," she admits before looking away. "So... so be patient with me, okay?"

"I've got all the time in the world for you," I say, and I mean it. Even if my literal, biological timer is ticking down.

Rumi nods, then her expression shifts. That competitive fire returns to her eyes. "Okay then... Let's see what I'm working with."

And she hooks her fingers into my waistband and tugs down. I lift my hips to help her, and she pulls my pants and boxers down in one smooth motion.

She lets out a gasp as my member springs free, her eyes widen as she takes me in. And a slow, wicked grin spreads across her face which doesn't fit the deep red blush on her face.

"Of course you're big down here…" she mutters before giving it a flick. "And hard too... should've expected that."

Well, this is a perfect body. And impossible to not get hard in a situation like this, although I must admit it's a little embarrassing to have her looking at my shaft like that.

But that feeling doesn't last when she wraps her fingers around my shaft with a firm grip. "Now... let's see if this is how it works."

Before I can respond, she quickly leans down and takes the tip into her mouth. I groan as the wet heat engulfs me. Her movements are initially a little clumsy, uncertain, but she learns fast. Her tongue swirls around the head, exploring the sensitive underside.

Her ears twitch at the sound of my ragged breath, and she seems to gain confidence from my reaction. She takes more of me into her mouth, her hand pumping what she can't fit. Her other hand rests on my thigh, her nails digging into my skin slightly.

I watch her, the sight of her - the powerful Mirko with her lips stretched around my cock - sending jolts of pleasure through me. Her eyes are closed in concentration, her brow furrowed as if she's approaching this with the same determination she would have in a fight.

But that moment of bliss doesn’t last as she pulls back, catching her breath, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the tip. "Damn, this is way harder than it looks."

A strangled laugh escapes me. "You're doing amazing."

My words caused a small, proud smile to touch her lips before she went back to it. She tries a different approach this time, her tongue tracing the vein on the underside as she bobs her head. I feel my abs tighten, my hips lifting slightly off the bed.

Her ears perk up at this movement. "Oh, so you like that, huh?"

Before I can answer, she redoubles her efforts, her movements becoming more confident. How her tongue swirls around the head trying to wrap it, her lips creating a tight seal as she moves up and down.

I reach down, my fingers tangling in her damp white hair. "Rumi..."

Her movements pause, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. God, that's so sexy...

I smile, my thumb stroking her cheek. "Don't stop."

A determined glint appears in her eyes. She takes a deep breath through her nose, then takes me deeper than before, her throat muscles working to accommodate my size and bring greater joy but sadly she couldn't endure it and pulls out, gagging slightly.

"Okay, those videos must be cheating or something," she says with a slight cough before rubbing her throat. "I can't take more than that."

"It's okay," I assure her. "Really. It feels incredible."

Her competitive nature surfaces. "Incredible's not good enough." She positions herself between my legs, her hands braced on my thighs. "I'm going to make you see stars, big guy."

And then she's on me again. This time, she uses her hand in tandem with her mouth, establishing a new rhythm causing me to throw my head back against the pillows.

Her free hand moves lower, gently cupping my balls. I gasp as her fingers explore, testing different pressures. Her ears twitch, recording my reactions, learning what works. And enjoy every bit of it.

Her technique improves with each passing moment. She's a fast learner, applying the same focus and determination she brings to combat to this new challenge. 

"I'm... I'm close." I groan, my hips lifting off the bed again.

This seems to spur her on. Her movements become more confident. She looks up at me as she works, her red eyes locked with mine. The sight of the heroine with my hardness in her mouth is almost too much.

With a grunt, I reach my peak. My body tenses, my back arching off the bed as I spill into her waiting mouth. She flinches but doesn't pull away. Instead, she pushes further and swallows everything, her throat working convulsively. When it's finally over she takes a final, slow lick, cleaning me thoroughly before releasing me with a soft pop.

She sits back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her face is flushed, her ears twitching nervously as she watches me catch my breath. "Didn't taste bad..."

Wow…

"Well?" she asks, trying for casual but missing it by a mile. "How was that? Be honest. I can take it."

I push myself up onto my elbows, looking at her with admiration. "Incredible."

A proud, almost smug grin spreads across her face before she can stop it. "Told you I'd make you see stars."

"You almost did."

Her expression softens. "Just almost?" She leans forward, bracing her hands on my chest. "Guess I'll have to try harder then."

She moves fast, and her lips meet mine, and I can taste myself on her tongue. I know that many feel disgusted by the idea of kissing a woman right after they blow you but I'm not in that group and let her continue. She takes advantage, deepening the kiss as she straddles my waist again, her warmth settling over me which I happily welcome, my arms holding her in place.

My hands slide down, feeling her toned body as her breasts press against my chest. Her breath hitches as I reach the curve of her toned ass, squeezing gently.

"You're playing with fire, big guy," she breathes against my lips.

"I can’t get burnt." I murmur before trailing kisses down her neck.

I just love doing that.

And she does too since she welcomes it as the dark-skinned beauty arches her back with a pleased hum,as I find another particularly sensitive spot, her head tilting to give me better access. Her fingers tighten in my hair, holding me close to her. With that confirmation I take my time, mapping the sensitive areas with my lips and tongue, learning what makes her happy as I slowly guide her higher so we can be at eye-level.

But naturally there is a wet slap, causing her to yelp and look over her shoulder, and I didn't slap her because my hands were pretty occupied with massaging her toned ass and only one place is wet enough to make that lewd sound.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out my hardness is now trapped between her luscious thighs, its proud head pushing between them.

"Rumi?" I murmur against her neck.

"K-Knew it." She pulls away with a trembling smile. "Y-You loved my thighs that day, didn’t you?" And she squeezes her thighs around my erection as I feel the wetness of her arousal making the friction impossibly smooth. “Pervert.”

"Of course I did," I reply, grinding my hips slightly, watching as her eyes flutter closed at the sensation. "Not like you were trying to hide your intentions when you were squeezing them around my head."

I loved it, not gonna lie.

"F-Fuck..." she whispers, her body trembling. "You're such a goddamn tease, you know that?" Despite her words, she doesn't stop me. Instead, she rolls her hips, creating a delicious friction that makes us both gasp.

"Only for you." I whisper back.

I can feel her thighs tightening around my shaft, the muscles flexing as she instinctively tries to increase the pressure. Her hips begin to rock back and forth, establishing a slow, torturous rhythm. The wet heat of her arousal coats my length, making each movement impossibly smooth.

Her hands grip my shoulders for leverage as she picks up speed. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her brows furrowed in concentration. Her ears are laid flat against her head, and a beautiful blush spreads from her cheeks down her neck.

"God, that feels..." she trails off, her hips stuttering. "I had no idea..."

I lean in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as she continues to rock against me. Her movements become more confident as she continues her exploration. Her body is learning and quickly adapting.

"D-Daniel," she gasps, breaking the kiss. "I-I think..."

Not yet.

I grip her hips, stilling her movements. "Don't rush it."

Her eyes fly open, a flash of panic crossing her face. "But-"

"Trust me," I say, my voice low and steady. "I want this to last."

Her expression softens, and she nods slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. She leans in, resting her forehead against mine. "Okay."

She resumes her movements, maddeningly slow this time. And I have to put in a lot of effort to hold myself, especially that I'm still sensitive from the last time.

Soon enough I can feel her body tensing, her breath coming in ragged pants. She's close, and I know it. I can see it in the way her ears twitch uncontrollably and her body loses control in the way her hips begin to move more erratically despite her attempts to maintain control.

"D-Daniel..." she whimpers, her nails digging into my shoulders. "I... I can't..."

I simply plant a single kiss on her lips.

That's all it takes for this special woman.

A choked cry tears from her throat as her body convulses. Her thighs clench around me almost painfully as waves of pleasure wrack her frame. Which also causes me to finally reach my limit, and I let go with a deep groan. I spill between her thighs and back, coating her skin in warm, sticky ropes.

Rumi collapses against my chest, her head tucked into the crook of my neck. I can feel the rapid beat of her heart against mine, and can hear the shuddering breaths she takes as she tries to calm down.

In this situation I can pn;y think of wrapping my arms around her, holding her close. "You okay?"

She nods, her face still buried against my neck. "Mmm... More than okay."

Her breathing slowly evens out, and for a while, we just lie there, enjoying the afterglow. The city lights continue to twinkle outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, oblivious to the private world we've created in this room all for ourselves.

Then she shifts, lifting her head to look at me. Her hair is a mess, her face is still flushed, and there's a dazed, sated expression in her red eyes.

"That was..." she starts, then seems to run out of words, settling for kissing me instead.

It's a slow, lazy kiss, full of unspoken affection. She's lost her competitive edge, replaced by a softer, more vulnerable version of herself that she probably has never shown to a person, and I will treasure this moment.

When she pulls back, there's a small smile playing on her lips. "I had no idea."

"It gets better," I promise, and a flash of her usual challenge returns to her eyes.

"Oh really?" She raises an eyebrow. "We'll see about that, big guy."

My loving partner shifts, moving to straddle me again. She positions herself above me, looking down with a mixture of nerves and determination.

But she sits down on my legs instead and gulps loudly. "H-How can this be this big and hard? You just..." She looks down at my erection with confusion.

"A gift from god." I joke, casually shrugging with a grin.

And I don't have any of the company perks or talents from the sexual category.

Rumi glares at me playfully, swatting my chest. "Don't be smug. Just let me..."

She rises up on her knees, positioning herself over me. Her hands grip my shoulders as she steadies herself. She takes a deep breath, her entire body tense with anticipation.

"Okay…" she says to herself, more than to me. "Okay."

And slowly, carefully, she lowers herself down. The tip of my cock nudges against her entrance, and she freezes, her breath catching. She's so wet, so ready, but I can feel the resistance as she tries to take me in.

"You okay?" I ask, my hands coming to rest on her hips.

"Fine," she says through gritted teeth. "Just... it's... tighter than I expected."

She tries again, this time pushing down more firmly. I watch as her face contorts in concentration, her brow furrowed, her ears twitching nervously. She takes a sharp breath as the head finally breaches her entrance, her body tensing at the intrusion.

"Oh fuck," she whispers, her hands tightening on my shoulders.

She pauses there, adjusting to the sensation. I can feel her trembling slightly, her inner muscles fluttering around me. She's so tight, so incredibly tight, and the warmth is almost overwhelming.

"Take your time," I say softly, my thumbs stroking her hips.

She nods, not trusting herself to speak. Then, with a determined exhale, she continues her descent. It's slow, torturous, a fraction of an inch at a time. I watch her face, the way her eyes squeeze shut, the way her lips part in a silent gasp.

Then suddenly, she gasps loudly in pain. Her body tenses, and she freezes completely. Her hands clench into fists on my shoulders. Her ears are flat against her head, and her face is a mask of discomfort.

"Just... just give me a second," she manages, her voice strained. She's breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "It's... it's a lot."

"Too much?"

"No," she says, shaking her head though her eyes remain squeezed shut. "I... I can take it. I’m a-a big girl."

She stays like that for a long moment, just breathing, adjusting. I can feel her inner walls slowly relaxing around me, accommodating my size. So to try to help her I caress her and eventually her grip on my shoulders loosens slightly, and some of the tension leaves her body.

Then, with another deep breath, she continues. She pushes down, her body stretching to accommodate me. There's resistance again, and then suddenly, she slides down the last few inches, taking me to the hilt in one smooth motion.

We both gasp at the sensation - her from the sudden fullness, me from the incredible tightness, the heat, the way her walls grip me perfectly.

"Fuck," she breathes, looking down and notice the bulge in her abdomen. "It's... it's all the way in."

Yeah, and it's an incredibly arousing sight.

She stays still for a moment, her toned body trembling as she throws her head back to take more breaths. Then, carefully, experimentally, she begins to move. She rises up slowly, then sinks back down, her movements hesitant at first but gaining confidence with each stroke.

Her hands move from my shoulders to my chest, her nails digging in slightly as she finds her new and comfortable rhythm. Her hips begin to rock, finding what feels good, learning her own body's responses as well as mine.

"Oh god," she moans, her head tilting back as she finds an angle that hits just right. "That's... that's..."

I just gulped, still fighting my instincts to grab her hips and thrust hard against her. I want to enjoy this, and enjoy her, and I want to make it good for her. I want to sear this memory forever.

It takes a few more slow thrusts before her movements become more fluid, more confident. She's finding her power now, finding her pleasure in this new experience. Her breasts bounce with each movement, and I reach up to cup them, my thumbs brushing against her hard nipples.

She gasps at the contact, her back arching, pushing her breasts further into my hands showing how perfectly sized they are for my hands. "Y-You like them?"

"They're perfect," I say honestly. "You're perfect."

She freezes for a moment before she looks away. "S-Shut up."

But there's no real heat in her words, and she doesn't stop her movements. In fact, she seems to gain more confidence, her hips rolling in a way that has me fighting for control so she can keep the lead in this dance.

My hands slide down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, until I'm gripping her ass. She has a perfect butt, the result from years of training, and I can't resist squeezing it harder. She responds by grinding down against me.

I can see the concentration on her face, the fierce determination that defines her as one of the greatest heroines but I can only say one thing to her when seeing her like this.

"You're beautiful." 

And her movements falter.

"Stop saying things like that," she groans, her hips stuttering. "You're making me all... emotional and shit."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No…" she admits, her voice soft. "But it's weird. The good kind of weird. The only kind of weird."

That’s when I can’t hold a part of me and I sit up, pulling her against me, causing her to gasp. However, her arms wrap around my neck, her body molding against mine. I can feel her heartbeat against my chest once more. My lips find hers, kissing her deeply, pouring all the unspoken feelings into the contact.

She responds with equal passion, her hips beginning to move again, riding me with renewed energy. The position change allows me to hit new angles inside her, and she gasps into my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair.

"Daniel," she moans against my lips, "Daniel... don't stop."

"I won't."

My arms wrap around her, one hand splayed against her lower back, the other tangled in her white hair. I hold her close as we move together, our bodies finding a rhythm that feels natural for this moment.

Her movements become more erratic, less controlled. She's chasing her pleasure now, lost in the sensations. Her head tilts back, exposing the elegant line of her throat once more. And naturally I lean in again, pressing open-mouthed kisses against her skin, tasting the salt of her sweat.

She clearly loves being pampered too.

"Fuck," she gasps, her hips grinding down against me. "Right there... oh god, right there..."

Her inner walls clench around me, a fluttering sensation that signals her approaching end. I can feel my own building, the pressure mounting deep within me.

"I'm close," I warn her, my voice a little strained.

"Me too," she whimpers. "Don't you dare pull out."

That causes me to stop because I don't have any sort of protection.

And Rumi notices my hesitation. "I-I'm on the pill!"

That is enough for me and I slam her down onto me one last time as I explode deep inside her, a hoarse cry tearing from my throat. At the same time, her body convulses, her back arching as she reaches her peak, a choked gasp escaping her lips. Her walls clamp down on me, milking every last drop as waves of pleasure wrack her frame.

We remain locked together for a long moment, both breathing heavily, our bodies slick with sweat. The only sounds in the room are our ragged breaths and the distant hum of the city below. The gentle breeze from the open window feels cool against our heated skin.

Rumi collapses against my chest, her full weight settling onto me and I lay down back to the bed. I shift my arms for a better position around her, holding her close as we both float down from the incredible heights we just reached together.

After a few minutes, she stirs, lifting her head to look at me. Her hair is a tangled mess around her shoulders and face, doing little work to hide her flush, and her eyes have that dazed, sated look that makes me want to start all over again.

"So," she says, her voice hoarse. "Was that... okay?"

I can't help but laugh. "More than okay. That was incredible."

A small, proud smile touches her lips before she can stop it. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I confirm, brushing a stray strand of white hair from her face. "Although, I should be the one asking that question."

Her blush deepens, and she buries her face against my chest. "Shut up." She murmurs.

We lie there for a while longer, just holding each other. I can feel the steady rhythm of her breathing, the warmth of her skin, the way her body molds against mine once again.

It feels like a new sort of victory that I appreciate more.

After a while, she shifts, propping herself up on her elbow to look at me properly. "You know," she says quietly, "I never thought I'd be doing this."

"Having sex?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Being... vulnerable. Letting someone see this side of me."

"Me neither," I admit. "Not for a long time."

She studies my face, her expression thoughtful. "What do you think will happen tomorrow? When you're... back to being True Might?"

"I'll still be me," I say, though I know it's more complicated than that. "Just... louder."

She lets out a soft laugh, but there's a sad edge to it. "I know. But it's not the same, is it?"

"No," I admit. "It's not the same."

Her expression softens, and she leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. "Then we'll make tonight count."

And with that, she shifts again, straddling me once more. Despite the exhaustion and the recent release, my body responds instantly to her touch. Her hands move to my chest, and she begins to rock her hips, a slow, deliberate motion that has me hardening again inside her.

Even without the company perks I'm glad that my body has this much endurance and resilience because this time there is nothing holding her back.

------------------------------------------------

-Rumi Usagiyama, Mirko-

Rumi's eyes slowly opened, immediately registering the missing warmth beside her. She jolted upright, clutching the sheets to her chest as dread crashed over her.

Daniel was gone.

She'd known it would happen, and had made peace with it since yesterday. But knowing didn't make it suck any less.

A sad smile formed on her lips as a knot tightened in her throat. Her eyes burned, getting wetter despite her best efforts to keep it together. She'd had the best days of her life; really lived up to her motto of living without regrets but that didn't change how much this hurt.

She wiped at her eyes roughly with the back of her hand, trying to pull herself together. But then she froze as she caught something from the corner of her eyes.

The big guy - no, Daniel - was standing outside on the balcony, leaning against the railing, dressed in nothing but boxers. And it was still night.

Relief and confusion hit her in equal measure. She scrambled up, fumbling with the bedsheets and nearly falling off the bed with an undignified yelp.

"Hey!" she called out, anger mixing with confusion as she tried to keep herself covered while moving toward the balcony door.

He turned, that familiar gentle smile on his face. “Hey.”

"What 'hey' me?! Why aren't you in bed? And you're still-" She gestured at him with her free hand. "I thought you were gone and all that and..."

Daniel laughed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.  "Yeah, I didn't mean to worry you. I just didn't want to ruin the moment for you and transform back while you were sleeping, so I thought I'd step outside and... okay, that sounds really selfish when I say it out loud."

"And very asshole behavior!" She punched his arm, hard enough to make a point and vent her anger a little. "I woke up thinking you'd already left!"

"Sorry."

Rumi adjusted a strand of white hair that had fallen across her face, her heart still racing from the panic. Then she finally asked the question burning in her mind. "Why haven't you transformed yet?"

"I thought so too. It should have happened hours ago, but..." He shrugged, looking out at the city lights sprawling below them. "It hasn't."

"So you're staying like that now?" Hope ignited in her chest like a flame, burning bright and desperate.

Daniel's smile turned sad as he shook his head, causing that hope to crash hard, settling like lead in her stomach.

"I know I'm close. My timer's running out, but I guess the last of those embers fought stubbornly to not be extinguished." His voice softened, and he glanced at her. "Just to spend more time with you."

She felt her face heat up, looking away but unable to suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. "Don't say cheesy shit like that."

"It's true though."

"Still cheesy."

They stood in comfortable silence for a while, looking out over the city. It was a peaceful sight; almost beautiful, even.

"You know," Daniel said after a moment, "I never thought I'd see this city from this angle and find it beautiful, and I have been on top of buildings plenty of times."

Rumi snorted. "That's because you usually look for bad guys to punch."

"Fair point." He paused. "But tonight... seeing it with you... it feels different. The good kind of different.'"

"Getting soft on me, big guy?" But her voice was gentle, not mocking.

"Maybe." He looked at her, and there was something in his eyes that made her heart skip. "Or maybe I just find a reason to what I've been fighting for all along."

Rumi felt her ears twitch, suddenly finding the railing very interesting to look at. "You're really committed to this whole 'make me feel things' plan, aren't you?"

"Is it working?"

"Shut up." But she was smiling.

Daniel laughed quietly. "For what it's worth, these past two days... they've been the most real I've felt since I got my powers. And I wouldn’t have spent them with anyone else."

"Yeah?" Rumi glanced at him.

"Yeah." He shook his head ruefully. "True Might is what I needed to be for this city and its people. Daniel is who I wanted to be. I never thought I'd get to be both, even if it was temporary."

Rumi actually laughed at that. "You're such a dork."

"Your dork now, apparently."

"Don't push it." But she stepped closer, letting her shoulder brush against his arm. The contact was simple, easy, comfortable.

They fell into silence again, but it was the good kind - the kind where words weren't necessary.

"Rumi," Daniel said after a while, his voice quieter.

"What?"

"Thank you. For asking me out. For giving me this chance. For—"

Then Daniel stopped mid-sentence, his entire body going rigid.

"What's wrong?" Rumi asked immediately, her combat instincts kicking in. She grabbed his arm, searching for threats.

"Time's up."

The words were barely a whisper, but they hit her like a physical blow.

Rumi immediately pulled him into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around him with desperate strength. "D-don't go. Please."

The words came out broken, her voice cracking as tears finally fell freely down her cheeks.

She didn't want this to end. She was happy - really, truly happy for the first time in her life. Fighting felt meaningless now, even if that went against everything she used to believe. She just wanted this to last, even if it was just one more hour. One more minute.

Please.

Daniel simply laughed softly and gently patted her head, his large hand warm and reassuring. Then he carefully pulled her away just enough to cup her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

"I'll still be here with you, remember? Just a little different." His smile was warm despite the sadness in his eyes. "Besides, what kind of hero would I be if I made a woman cry?"

Rumi bit her lower lip hard, wiping away the tears that kept falling despite her best efforts. She was Mirko - she didn't cry, didn't break down, didn't show weakness. But right now, she couldn't help it.

Then she forced herself to grin - that fierce, confident grin she was known for - but now it carried real meaning behind it. 

"You're right, big guy. The great Mirko doesn't cry - she makes her enemies cry!"

Daniel's expression shifted, that familiar light entering his eyes. "That's my girl."

"REMEMBER I WILL ALWAYS FIGHT FOR YOUR SMILE!" his voice boomed out with that familiar justice-filled conviction that she'd come to love in its own way.

Suddenly, black clouds formed above him with impossible speed, swirling and gathering like a storm condensed into a single point. Thunderous blue lightning struck him directly as the dark clouds enveloped his form completely, crackling with raw power.

The wind force pushed Rumi back several steps, and she threw her arms up to shield her face, the bedsheet whipping violently around her.

"BECAUSE EVIL CANNOT FESTER WHERE A SMILE STANDS!"

The clouds dispersed as quickly as they'd appeared, revealing True Might in all his transformed glory - seven feet of pure muscle and justice incarnate, already in his full suit. The balcony seemed smaller now with his presence filling the space.

And he was right.

He was still here. Just different.

“Welcome back… My big guy.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

AN: AND CUT!

THIS IS IT WE FINALLY REACHED THE MOMENT YOU ALL BEEN WAITING FOR! 

And end it with a bittersweet tone but still give hope.

It just took me… 2 years and over 200k words for True Might and Mirko to finally get together, although no love confession… YET. 

13k words, sheesh prolly the longest chapter I’ve written so far.

Gotta be honest I WANTED to add a joke of justice sex in the middle but it felt so out of place and would ruin the mood I was setting between the two so maybe for another time.

Either way, this ended with the longest chapter I ever written since I needed to flesh this out more and set everything for the moment so it wasn’t just cheap sex for people to rub one out, (No shame or judging if you did tho) it was all important because these two deserved this much attention and care for this important moment. I just love writing True Might and Mirko. And her struggling to gobble up the carrot of justice.

So still I truly hope you liked it and thank you all for staying this long.And yes, little tired since is pretty late here.