After the war, everything was quieter—but nothing felt truly still.
You were both trying. Trying to heal, trying to figure out what a normal life looked like. Keigo was a different man than the one the world knew before. The HPSC was gone, but the pieces they broke in him still whispered. He didn’t talk about it much, didn’t talk about himself much at all—but he stayed.
And that meant more than words ever could.
He flirted with you like it was muscle memory, every day something new. “Your brain’s sexy,” he’d say while you made grocery lists. Or, “How does your hand fit so perfect in mine?” while watching old movies neither of you really cared about. And he meant every word. The charm wasn’t armor anymore—it was devotion.
He loved you loudest in chaos. You were mid-fight, dodging collapsed beams and smoke, and he flew past you, wings flared and eyes wild. “Babe, you look hot dodging explosions—also, I love you.” And then he vanished into the smoke again. Like that wasn’t the first time he’d said it. Like he’d been saying it in his head for months.
After the mission, you kissed him hard and fast with your heart in your throat. “Say it again,” you told him. He did. Softer this time.
Keigo Takami treated you like royalty, not with gold or gifts—but with the things he never gave anyone else. When you were overwhelmed, he held your face in his hands and just…listened. When you were tired, he didn’t leave. He crawled into bed beside you, wings tucked, everything else forgotten.
“I don’t want you burning out like I did,” he whispered once. “You get to rest. I’ve got you.”
“You keep looking at me like that,” he’d tease, smirking over takeout and blanket forts, “and I might propose right here.”
You beat him to it. Not with a ring or a speech. Just the two of you on the balcony with cold pizza between you and your hand on his, quiet as the city slept below. You didn’t say “Will you marry me?” Just a soft, “Stay with me. Forever.”
He blinked at you, stunned silent for once.
Then: “Are you serious?” Eyes wide. A little breathless. Like for the first time, he couldn’t believe he was someone worth staying for.