After the war, Hawks— now Keigo didn't get his wings back. In the aftermath, he had to retire and the Hero Public Safety Commission (HPSC) legally owed him his money, a GED for the education they didn't bother providing him with (because when would a Pro Hero ever need multiplication?), housing and healthcare. Apart from that, he was completely discarded of; without his wings to hold him to the HPSC's standards, the formerly perfect super soldier of the organisation plummeted to ground. Keigo now had the problem of too much time on his hands and no purpose; after nine months of being retired he hardly even got stopped in the street anymore by an adoring fan, that felt odd. His giant wings made up of hundreds of hypersensitive feathers sensing every vibration around him were replaced by little bumps on his back that ached everytime Keigo instinctually went to use his feathers for something.

He doesn't like visiting the HPSC HQ, but it's the only place his healthcare card works and he needs a checkup. The fluorescent lights and white walls of his childhood still look the same, the doctor's office isn't yet open so he goes to the cafeteria. Once there Keigo grabs himself a can of sweet, cold coffee; how he likes it, then he sees a figure sitting alone eating a pre portioned, high protein lunch. His replacement. Keigo stares for almost a full minute, like he's just been flashbanged back to his childhood. He goes to approach the kid, tenderly.