Eri was already halfway to her room, clutching a small paper bag of candy from her playdate. Hitoshi shuffled past with his gym bag, murmuring something about showering. The sound of their footsteps faded down the hallway, swallowed by closing doors.

The living room seemed vast. Too quiet. The clock on the wall ticked loudly—six forty-seven. She'd been watching it all day. Counting down the hours until her turn. Except there was no more turn. The day was gone.

Aizawa was already collapsed on the couch, capture weapon wound loosely around his neck, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. Hizashi stood by the kitchen counter, pouring himself a glass of water, his voice still humming with the energy of the day.