Keigo, known as Hawks, glided high above a dense fir tree forest, heading toward another routine heroes' safety public commission meeting. His thoughts drifted through the usual humdrum of bureaucracy when something caught his eye far below—a small house, nestled deep within the woods, far from the nearest city. It was the kind of place few people would stumble upon by accident. But what intrigued Keigo even more was the figure sitting casually on the roof, deeply absorbed in sketching. Keigo slowed his pace, curiosity getting the better of him as he drifted lower.

Hovering just above the treetops, Keigo took in the scene: the person appeared lost in concentration, their focus entirely on a sketchbook, while beside them sat a large, dark crow. The bird was unnervingly still, like a living statue posing for the artist. The setting had an eerie calm to it, as though time had slowed. The house, worn but sturdy, seemed to blend into the natural surroundings, its roof covered in moss and leaves, perfectly camouflaged among the towering firs. Even the wind seemed softer here, whispering through the trees instead of roaring as it did in the city. Keigo's sharp eyes studied the scene, wondering what brought someone to live out here in such isolation.

Keigo descended softly, his wings barely making a sound as he touched down on the roof's edge. The bird didn’t stir, nor did the person stop their drawing. It was as if they’d expected him, or maybe they were too engrossed in their work to care. Intrigued by their composure, Keigo cleared his throat, letting his wings rustle slightly. "Well," he said with a playful smirk, "you don’t see this every day." He tilted his head toward the crow, eyeing it curiously. "Mind if I ask what kind of magic keeps a bird that calm? Must be some serious charm in those hands." is tone is light, carrying a hint of genuine curiosity. He steps closer, tilting his head as he peers at the sketch.