The rooftop venue pulsed with color—pink floodlights rippling against the skyline, basslines thumping low enough to stir the soles of your feet. Neon-painted drones hovered overhead, capturing flashes of high-profile guests for the inevitable morning flood of curated social clips.
Cole adjusted the lapel of his midnight-black blazer. The air smelled of perfume, champagne, and ozone. He wasn't used to this kind of attention—not in his old world. But tonight wasn't about blending in.
K/DA had arrived in style.
Ahri led the group, radiant in a sleek, off-shoulder dress that shimmered like liquid moonlight. Her smile was practiced perfection, every curve of her lips diplomatic. Her eyes met his, and her expression softened with a quiet smile.
Evelynn, draped in crimson silk and danger, already held court near the VIP bar. People parted for her like the sea.
Kai'Sa walked beside Cole, clean and strong in a minimal white halter outfit. She looked like she belonged, but her proximity to him told a different story—she didn't stray far.
And Akali?
Akali was the storm.
She wore a cropped bomber over a laced bodysuit, electric purple streaks weaving through her hair. A walking dare. Two drinks in already, she downed a Jägerbomb like water and made her way toward him.
"Didn't think you cleaned up this well," she said, voice just low enough to make it feel private.
Cole smirked. "Can't look out of place when you're escorting K/DA."
Her grin flashed—sharp and teasing. "You're far from out of place, good-looking."
His hand found her waist. Natural. Easy.
As the night deepened, the room's energy shifted. Cameras turned. Conversations dipped.
And then—
True Damage arrived.
They strode in like thunder: Ekko, decked in layered techwear and confidence; Senna, regal and unshakable; Qiyana, looking like vacationing royalty.
And behind them—hair tied back, sword absent but presence unmistakable—
Yasuo.
Dark coat, collar loose. He moved with the casual danger of a blade sheathed in velvet. He didn't look at Ahri. Not once.
But she saw him.
Cole caught the slight hitch in her breath. The way she turned, casual but sharp, away from the view. Her expression didn't crack, but something in her eyes pulled taut. A reflex. A scar not fully healed.
Yasuo moved toward True Damage's section—where Qiyana stood twirling a cube of ice in her drink. He leaned in, said something low. She smirked, fingers brushing his wrist with intentional boldness.
______
True Damage Table POV
"Hey Yas, isn't that your ex? Ahri?" Ekko asked as he dropped onto the couch.
Yasuo's eyes dropped to the floor. "Yeah. We didn't exactly end on great terms…"
"What happened between you two, anyway?" Qiyana chimed in, curiosity laced with playfulness.
He sighed. "Things just unraveled. We couldn't see a future together. I ended it before it got worse."
A silence followed, thick and awkward.
Qiyana tried to shake it off. "Alright, mood killer. Let's order drinks. I heard their espresso martinis are lethal—in the best way."
"I'm down. Senna, want anything?"
"No, I'm good. Promised Lucian I'd stay sober tonight."
Qiyana scoffed. "Seriously? He's not your dad. You can't let him dictate what you do."
Senna's voice was even. "It wasn't his rule. I agreed. Maybe you'll get it once you're in something real."
Qiyana rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Sign me up for a boring life of skipping drinks and calling it romance."
Senna shrugged. "Suit yourself."
K/DA Table POV
Ahri didn't look. Not directly. Not obviously.
But Cole saw it.
The way her posture shifted, the way her hand gripped her glass just a little tighter.
Kai'Sa followed his line of sight. "You saw him, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"She won't say anything. Pride won't let her."
Cole nodded. "And him?"
Kai'Sa's lips pressed thin. "Too guilty to look at her."
Before the tension could grow roots, Akali swooped in, handing Cole a fresh drink. "Hey," she said, bumping his shoulder. "Why the long face? This is a party, not a therapy session."
"You're assuming a lot," Cole replied, raising an eyebrow.
"Your face gives you away," she said with a grin, sipping her drink.
He took a swig, letting the bite settle on his tongue. "Yasuo doesn't seem like the kind of guy who just shows up to things."
"Nothing about him is accidental," she said, stirring her straw slowly. Her voice dropped. "Just... stay close to Ahri. Even if she doesn't ask."
"I will."
Her gaze lingered a little longer than it needed to—softening. Then her smirk returned. "Now c'mon. Dance floor. Before I start flirting with someone else."
"You're already flirting with me."
"Exactly. Clock's ticking."
They disappeared into the crowd, light and sound enveloping them. Akali's grinding took the spotlight. Cole danced—but never stopped keeping tabs on the others.
Yasuo was still there. Closer now. Laughing with Qiyana, just a breath too near.
Ahri no longer looked.
But Cole saw how she kept drinking.
And how she didn't stop again.
After ten intense minutes—part sweat, part rhythm—Cole returned to the table, breath catching.
"Hey, you okay?" he asked.
Ahri nodded too fast. "Mhm. Just vibing to the music."
He narrowed his eyes. "Okay, that's enough of these." He plucked the drink from her hand and set it down. "Let's get you some air."
He gently took her hand and led her to the balcony. Ahri leaned into him, unsteady from the cocktail storm still in her system.
"This about Yasuo?"
"No… Yes. I don't knowww."
"Hey, it's okay. No one expects you to be fine just because you saw him."
Her voice cracked. "Then why is he here? And with her?"
"I heard they're both part of Ekko's new lineup."
"They knew I'd be here. It's a message. Look how well he's doing. Look what you lost."
Cole gently cupped her face. "You're spiraling. Stop. It wasn't a mistake, Ahri. You made a decision—both of you. And Yasuo? He doesn't seem like the petty type."
"…You're right." Her voice was softer now. Her hand reached up to his. "I'm not even jealous. I'm just... so angry."
Her eyes shimmered with unshed frustration.
He smiled, reassuring. "If you're that angry, you've got a personal punching bag right here. Premium grade."
She blinked. "Are you actually offering yourself up as a stress dummy?"
He nodded. "Yep."
"What if I hurt you?"
"I've got regen."
Before he could finish the joke, her fists pounded his chest in a storm of soft punches.
"UGHH I HATE YOU AND YOUR STUPID FACE, YOUR STUPID PONYTAIL, AND YOUR STUPID—EX—"
She didn't stop for a few minutes.
When she did, her breathing slowed. Her voice, too.
"You good now?"
"Yeah… much better." The slurring faded with every word.
Cole chuckled. "You throw a mean punch for a pop star."
Without warning, Ahri wrapped her arms around him. Tight. Warm.
"Thanks, Cole. I needed that."
He held her just as tightly. "Of course. I told you—I've got you."
______
What neither of them saw was the distant figure watching from the crowd.
Yasuo.
His eyes weren't full of bitterness. Just the quiet ache of a man who'd lost something—and maybe found peace with it. Maybe Cole could do what he couldn't.
With a faint smile, Yasuo turned and walked back toward the True Damage table.
_____
Minutes later, Cole felt something soft graze his lips.
A quick kiss.
"Let's go back inside," Ahri murmured, stepping away from his arms, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. "We might still save the rest of the night."
He smiled.
"Let's go."
_______
[Bond Update: Ahri –grateful, trusting]
[You've gained 250 SP for comforting Ahri]
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