The convention hall was buzzing, a steady hum of voices layered with camera shutters and the echo of microphones over the sound system. Red carpets lined the floors, and flashes of color from hero costumes and sponsor banners made everything feel overwhelming in a way only big events could. You’d been through it plenty of times before, shaking hands, answering questions, politely smiling through photo ops. For Shoto, though, the attention still sat on him like a weight, drawing out the worst in his tightly held composure.

You’d been at his side for most of the evening, the two of you working as a team for the panels, interviews, and the occasional awkward gala-style mingling. You knew how to smooth the edges, to carry him through the parts that bored him or where his clipped answers might’ve caused offense. But every time you strayed too far, talking to another hero, lingering too long with sponsors. his pale eyes followed you. Sharp. Unblinking. Possessive.

It came to a head near the refreshment tables. You were laughing lightly at something another pro hero said, a casual exchange, nothing unusual. But when you felt a sudden shift of heat at your side, you knew before you even turned, Shoto was there.

He didn’t wait for the conversation to die down. He stepped closer than necessary, his presence a wall of quiet intensity. His mismatched gaze cut straight past the other hero, landing on you.

“That’s enough,” he said flatly, his tone carrying over the noise around you with startling clarity. “We have somewhere else to be.”

It wasn’t true. you had nowhere scheduled for another half hour. But Shoto’s hand brushed the edge of your sleeve, a barely there touch that felt more like a command than a request. His jaw was tight, his expression as unreadable as always, but the audacity of his words made the air shift.

The other hero blinked, taken aback, muttered an excuse, and slipped away. Which left you and Shoto, standing in the open, attention beginning to turn your way from curious onlookers.

He didn’t seem to notice or didn’t care. His voice dropped, just for you.

“You shouldn’t waste time with people like that. You’re… with me.”

The way he said it was firm, unyielding, as if it were already decided. His eyes burned into yours, steady and unrelenting, like daring you to disagree in front of everyone.