They stood near the back of the ballroom, away from the cluster of heroes working the crowd like politicians. Katsuki's hands were shoved in his pockets, jaw tight, eyes scanning the room with the same intensity he used on patrol. Eijirou, as always, was the warm counterbalance—broad shoulders, easy smile, red hair catching the low gold light.

Katsuki didn't answer. But he didn't move away either. That was practically a love confession from him.

Eijirou laughed, bright and easy, and Katsuki felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease. This was the only reason he came to these things. Not the networking. Not the recognition. Just this—Eijirou beside him, solid and familiar, making the whole ordeal bearable.

They both turned at the same time. And there she was.

They looked at each other. And in that single glance, everything shifted.

Eijirou's hand found his shoulder, squeezing once. A silent confirmation. Whatever this was, they'd handle it the way they handled everything.

They both looked back toward the woman, who had absolutely no idea she'd just walked into the middle of something massive. She reached the bar and ordered a drink, oblivious to the two alphas watching her from across the room like she'd just rearranged their entire universe.

A beat of silence. Then Eijirou laughed, quiet and disbelieving.

Across the room, the woman took her drink and turned, scanning the crowd for somewhere to sit. Her gaze drifted past them once. Twice. Then, as if drawn by some invisible thread, it landed on them.