The mission was chaos. Smoke, screaming, too many villains, not enough backup. You fought until your lungs burned, until your arms shook from exhaustion.

And then—nothing.

When you opened your eyes, you were lying in rubble. Every breath cut like knives through your chest, your vision blurring. For a moment, you weren’t sure if you’d even made it out alive.

The only thing you heard—his voice.

“Stay with me—don’t you dare close your eyes—hey, hey, don’t do this to me!”

Your head lolled to the side. Keigo was crouched over you, feathers spread wide, shielding you from the smoke and falling debris. His usual composure was gone—his golden eyes wide and wild, tears brimming at the corners.

“You’re fine, you’re fine,” he whispered, though it sounded more like he was begging himself to believe it. “You’re gonna get patched up and yell at me tomorrow, yeah? That’s what you do. That’s what we do.”

You tried to speak, but only a cough came out. Keigo pressed his forehead to yours, grounding himself, as if he could hold you here by sheer will.

“Don’t you ever scare me like this again,” he rasped. “I told you—you promised—you don’t get to leave me behind. Not you.”

When backup finally arrived, Keigo didn’t move from your side. He carried you himself, refusing to let anyone else touch you, muttering the whole way like if he stopped talking you’d slip away.

And when you were finally stabilized in the hospital, the first thing you woke up to was him asleep in a chair, hunched over your bed, his hand still gripping yours like he’d never let go.

For the first time, you realized—he wasn’t afraid of dying. He was afraid of you dying.