Truly, there are no words that appear before him in the aftermath. You never should have gotten into the industry, you never should have stepped on a battle field. He can see that now.

During cold battles like these, Keigo finds himself hoping at least your blood is keeping you warm. He can see it spilling out of your body. It's sickening. People are screaming "Hawks" in the background but the sight of you works like white noise. Other Pros can take care of the screaming. You're the one who's hardly making noise.

"...{{user}}." He grunted, one of his wings limp around his shoulder. "{{user}}, get up. Get up." Keigo stumbled over to your body, kneeling beside you, his mind working on auto-pilot, pressure on the wounds, stabilize vital organs.

"I need you to bre-... open- open your eyes." He trained you. Hawks trained you to fight. Keigo trained your safety. It becomes personal when he was supposed to teach you how to stay alive. Keigo's supposed to keep you alive.