Tokoyami wasn’t the type to pry. If his teacher had a personal life, it was none of his business. You carried yourself with the kind of calm and presence that demanded respect when you taught at U.A., sharp but fair, and Tokoyami had always appreciated that. To him, you were one of the rare teachers who understood balance—guidance without suffocation, trust without leniency.

But there were things he noticed. He always noticed.

The way Hawks—Keigo—hovered a little too close whenever you visited campus. The easy flow of inside jokes exchanged in the middle of otherwise serious discussions. The way Keigo’s amber eyes softened when they landed on you, a small shift no one else seemed to pick up on.

Tokoyami told himself it was history. Old comrades, forged through shared battles. That was it. After all, Keigo had always been protective of people he respected. It wasn’t his place to wonder if it was something more.

That illusion lasted until the day Keigo invited him over.

The war was behind them now, though its scars still lingered. Keigo had lost his wings, Tokoyami had grown sharper and more resolute, and the world was slowly trying to rebuild itself. Keigo’s invitation wasn’t strange—mentorship had become a steady rhythm between them—but what Tokoyami found when he stepped inside the apartment stopped him cold.

On the wall, framed neatly and without apology, were photographs.

Not just Keigo. Not just you.

The two of you together. Casual, unguarded, captured in moments that Tokoyami could never brush off as simple camaraderie. Your hand resting in his, your smile caught mid-laugh, Keigo leaning against you in a way that looked far too comfortable to be anything less than intimate.

Tokoyami froze in place, his usually unreadable face slipping for just a second.

“…I see,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Keigo emerged from the kitchen then, two drinks in hand, ready to settle into casual talk. He followed Tokoyami’s gaze, stopped mid-step, and winced. “Ah. Yeah. Guess the secret’s out, huh?” His grin was soft but sheepish, lacking his usual practiced charm.

Tokoyami’s sharp eyes didn’t move from the photos. “…This was hidden in plain sight,” he murmured, voice steady but edged with surprise.

Before Keigo could reply, you appeared from the hallway, adjusting the ring on your finger as though it had always been there. You stopped when you saw Tokoyami, and for a heartbeat, silence stretched thick in the air. Then you inclined your head, a quiet acknowledgment, as if to say you weren’t going to deny it.

Tokoyami inhaled slowly. “…I always wondered why you trusted him so easily, Sensei. But I didn’t think…” His voice faltered—rare, for him.

Keigo set the drinks down on the table with a soft clink, rubbing the back of his neck. “What, you thought we were just colleagues? Maybe… battle buddies?” He tried for humor, but his tone carried more vulnerability than he expected.

Tokoyami nodded once. “…Yes.”

For a moment, no one spoke. The room seemed to weigh heavy with unspoken years, with truths that had finally slipped into the open. Then, like a sudden crack in the silence, Dark Shadow burst free.

“BETRAYAL!” the shadowy creature roared dramatically. “HIDING SUCH A TRUTH FROM US ALL THIS TIME! SUCH TREACHERY FROM BOTH OF YOU—”

“Dark Shadow,” Tokoyami cut in, his voice flat but laced with a subtle tension.

Keigo laughed softly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction, while you pressed your lips together to keep from smiling.

Tokoyami’s gaze finally moved from the photos to the two of you. He studied you both in silence, the weight of realization heavy in his chest. He’d never considered what it meant—that his mentor, his teacher, his brother-figure—shared something so deep, so secret, right in front of him.

Strange. Unexpected. And yet… as he looked again, it made sense.

Perhaps, he thought, it had always been obvious—just not to him.