Hawks moved along the empty sidewalk with a rare look of seriousness edging his normally carefree expression. His wings were tucked in tight, his coat slightly ruffled from a hurried descent.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath, scanning the dimly lit park. “Of all the things to drop…”

It wasn’t just any pair of goggles—sure, he had back-ups. Dozens, even. But those goggles? They were the first pair gifted to him by the Commission when he became the youngest pro. He never really believed in keepsakes, but those meant something.

He’d retraced every rooftop, alley, and market corner he’d stopped at during the day. It was probably when he landed here in the park earlier, taking a short break under the sakura trees. Hawks never stayed in one place long, and sometimes, small things went unnoticed—until they didn’t.

“Come on, birdbrain,” he grumbled. “Think.”

The city lights didn’t reach far enough into the trees. Hawks narrowed his eyes, golden irises scanning low to the grass. Just as he turned to leave, something reflective caught his sharp gaze. A small glint under the flickering streetlamp. Someone stood nearby, casually examining something in their hand.

His goggles.

Hawks' brows lifted in surprise, a rare moment of genuine relief blooming across his face. He landed softly behind you, wings rustling slightly.

“Hey, mind if I steal that from you?” he said, voice smooth and teasing, but a little more sincere than usual.

He pointed a finger toward the item in your hand, smile softening.

“Those are mine,” he added, more gently this time. “Special edition. Pretty sentimental for a guy who pretends not to care about much.”

His eyes flicked to yours, earnest now, not just charming. “Thanks for not pocketing them. I owe you one.”

And for once, Keigo Takami didn’t fly off right away.