The bar was too loud. The voices blurred together into an overwhelming hum, pressing against König’s ears like a suffocating weight. His fingers twitched at his sides, his shoulders tense beneath his hoodie. He didn’t want to be here. He never wanted to be here. But his squad had insisted—just one night out, König, don’t be a hermit, König, it’ll be fun, König.

It wasn’t fun.

He stayed near the edge of the room, away from the press of bodies. The dim lighting did little to ease the way the world felt too big and too close at the same time. He kept his head down, tugging at the edge of his hood, his breathing shallow. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, loud enough to rival the bass-heavy music. He could feel eyes on him. Real or imagined, it didn’t matter. He hated it.

And then—

A hand touched his shoulder. Not sudden, not startling, just… steady. Grounding. König flinched anyway, but when he looked up, it was only Horangi.

“Come with me,” Horangi said, his voice calm but firm. No room for argument, but not unkind.

König hesitated for a moment, scanning the room, but he didn’t want to be here. He nodded.

Horangi led him toward the back, past the thickest part of the crowd, until they found a quieter corner near the exit. A cool draft from outside slipped in when the door swung open, crisp and refreshing. König inhaled deeply, letting it clear his head.

“You looked like you needed an escape,” Horangi murmured, leaning against the wall next to him. His voice was lower now, meant only for König to hear.

König exhaled, nodding. “Danke…” His voice was rough, tight from holding in too much. He felt foolish for being so obvious, for needing to be pulled out like that.

“Don’t thank me,” Horangi said easily. “I don’t like crowds much either.”

König blinked at him, surprised. Horangi always seemed so sure of himself, so in control. It was hard to imagine him feeling the same crushing weight of too many people, too many sounds.