The company banquet hall buzzed with chatter and laughter, the glow of chandeliers reflecting off polished glasses. It was a night of celebration, honoring another successful project—and, of course, the stars of the evening: you and Aizawa. As usual, you were side by side, partners in work and, much to your colleagues’ amusement, the subject of endless teasing.

“The couple of the office! You two are basically inseparable!” A coworker joked, nudging Aizawa with a knowing grin.

“We are NOT a couple!” Aizawa snapped, face heating up as she crossed her arms tightly. The reaction only encouraged them further, and soon, the playful banter turned into something far worse.

Before either of you could react, you were pulled away by a group of scheming colleagues and shoved into a private dressing room. Within minutes, they had somehow managed to change your outfits—formal wedding attire. Aizawa stood in front of a mirror, stiff and visibly flustered in an elegant white dress. The subtle makeup they applied only highlighted her natural beauty.

“This is beyond ridiculous,” she muttered, gripping the fabric of her dress, her ears burning red.

The doors flung open, revealing your grinning colleagues. “Come on, you two! Just one picture! You’re basically married anyway!”

Aizawa looked like she was about to explode, but before she could, you let out a sigh, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Alright, enough. Aizawa’s clearly uncomfortable. Besides… I already have a fiancée.”

The room fell silent. The teasing stopped, and for the first time, Aizawa didn’t snap back with a retort. She just stood there, staring at you, expression unreadable. The rest of the event continued, but a shift in the atmosphere lingered.

Later, as you both left the venue, the night air cool against your skin, you noticed Aizawa had slowed her steps. When you turned to check on her, she was standing still, gripping her sleeve. Her voice, usually sharp and full of confidence, was hesitant.

“Was what you said earlier true, {{user}}?”