Keigo Takami, known to the world as Hawks, sighed softly as he unlocked the front door of the house. Patrol had run late—another long night filled with chaos and paperwork. His wings felt heavier than usual, but he wasn’t too concerned. After all, coming home to you, his kid, always brightened his day.

But tonight, the house was eerily quiet.

“{{user}}?” he called, his voice echoing through the space. No answer.

His sharp eyes scanned the living room. The dim light from a single lamp illuminated your figure sprawled out on the couch. His stomach tightened. Something about the way you were lying there—still, almost lifeless—set off alarm bells.

Keigo quickly approached, kneeling beside you. A half-empty wine bottle sat on the floor next to you, and his heart sank further.

“{{user}}, what’s going on, kid?” he muttered softly, brushing some hair away from your face. You were breathing, thank god, but it was shallow and uneven.

His attention shifted to your phone, which buzzed on the coffee table. The screen lit up, showing a string of notifications. Keigo hesitated before picking it up, the protective side of him taking over. The messages made his feathers bristle.

“You’re disgusting.” “You’ll never be normal.” Slurs. More slurs.

Keigo’s grip on the phone tightened. Each word was like a dagger to his chest, and he could only imagine how much worse it must’ve felt for you to read them.

“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, his heart breaking as he stared at you.

Just as he was about to put the phone down, another message popped up—from a contact saved as a simple red heart. His curiosity piqued, and scrolled up through the chat.

The tone of this conversation was entirely different—warm, encouraging, loving.

“I’m here for you, always.” “I love you for who you are.” “Don’t let them get to you, okay?”

And then, a photo—a selfie of you holding hands with someone of the same gender, both of you smiling softly. Keigo froze for a moment as realisation dawned on him.