The streets were quiet, but Shouta Aizawa stayed sharp, eyes scanning every shadow as he patrolled beside Oboro. It was late, the air cool, and the only sounds were the distant hum of city life and the soft crunch of their boots on the pavement. Oboro had been chatting for most of the walk—something about ramen spots and how their mentor kept correcting his posture—but Shouta only half-listened.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

He frowned. They weren’t supposed to check their phones while on patrol, especially not during an internship mission. But something about the buzz pulled at him. Maybe it was instinct. Or maybe he just always had a soft spot when it came to you.

Oboro was still mid-rant when Shouta subtly fished the phone from his pocket and angled it to check the screen. One notification glowed back at him.

[{{user}}]: “You looked so good this morning I almost had the urge to swallow you whole. I’m never going to survive dating you, pretty boy.”

Shouta blinked.

His brain stalled.

Then, “What the hell…?” slipped out before he could stop it. He looked to see if Oboro was paying attention before he responded back.

“I didn’t even fix my appearance. I look the same.”