Shoto found you exactly where he expected—standing backstage after his latest press conference, clutching your clipboard, wide-eyed the moment his gaze swept to you. Even now, years after UA, you still instinctively adjusted the plates and straps of his vest the moment he stepped close. He watched your hands work, calm and precise, just like they had been when you were students. Even with the weight of the No. 2 ranking settling heavily on his shoulders, your presence made something inside him loosen… and something else tighten. A quiet warmth. A spark. A tingle.

He thought of his family—his father retired and wheelchair-bound, his siblings healing slowly, and Touya… fading. Every visit to his dying older brother carved out a new ache in him, but Touya always found a way to smirk and say, “You’re finally living your life, little brother. Don’t waste it.” Maybe that was why Shoto felt more aware of what mattered. More aware of you. Of how you always looked at him with devotion he never felt he deserved. Of how you never asked for anything in return.

So, when you finished tightening the last strap, Shoto simply tilted his head, observing you for a beat too long. Then, in his usual calm and devastatingly straightforward tone, he said, “You should date me.” He touched his chest lightly, brows faintly furrowing as if analyzing his own biology. “I feel a tingle here when you’re near me. I think that means I’m in love.”