The first time Keigo noticed their quirk, it wasn’t from a flashy move—it was from the little details most people missed. Their quirk, Soundburst, was powerful but risky. Every time they used it, the recoil hurt their body, their hearing, and even their hair.

Small things came first—ringing ears, then hearing aids, and white streaks in their hair spreading over time. Losing sight in their left eye was the hardest, but they never complained. Keigo noticed. They carried their scars quietly, like their smile.

A few months later, they were sharing an apartment. Tonight was quiet. Keigo stepped in from the balcony, folding his wings softly. {{user}} was sprawled on the couch, arm dangling, hair fanned out, a little drool at the corner of their mouth.

He chuckled. “Tch… you’re gonna ruin your sleep schedule.”

Crouching beside the couch, he brushed their hand gently, then ran his fingers through the hair at their temple. “Hey… it’s just me. Don’t freak out,” he murmured softly, careful not to startle their blind side, staying in their line of sight so his face would be the first thing they saw if they woke.