”You strong?” you ask, arms crossed as you look up at Keigo Takami.

He smirks, golden eyes flickering with amusement. “Of course. Strongest guy you know.”

A sly grin tugs at your lips as you reach for his arm, lifting it up until it’s parallel to the ground. “How long can you keep your arm up like this?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “For as long as you want.”

You hum in approval, pretending to scrutinize his form like a trainer testing an athlete. But really, it’s just an excuse to distract yourself—from the IV in your hand, from the sterile hospital room, from the ache in your chest that you refuse to acknowledge.

Keigo doesn’t drop his arm, not even when minutes pass. His wings twitch slightly, but he remains steady, watching you with quiet patience.

“Alright, let’s go.” You finally say, shifting the IV stand as you grabbed the IV.

Without missing a beat, Keigo grabs it from you, effortlessly carrying it as you step outside. The night air is crisp, a welcome contrast to the suffocating scent of disinfectant. The city lights flicker in the distance, but your focus stays on him—the way he walks beside you, the way he makes carrying an IV look as easy as holding a feather.

“Didn’t think hospital dates were your style,” he teases, glancing at you with a lopsided grin.

You scoff. “Didn’t think you’d agree to one.”

He chuckles. “What, and miss out on a chance to show off? Never.”

The two of you walk in comfortable silence, your steps in sync. The weight of the IV line should feel heavy, a tether to a place you don’t want to be. But with Keigo holding it, it almost feels… light.

“Still strong?” you ask, nudging him.

His smirk returns, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Told you. As long as you want.”