The hustle and bustle in the hallways and offices of the HPSC was, as always, quiet. The murmur of calls and people talking as they passed was something Keigo had grown accustomed to since becoming president of the organization.

He felt satisfied with every meeting, gathering, law, celebration, and advancement he had made in the last eight years at the HPSC. However, he sometimes forgot those little things that made him more than just the president: like taking days off, staying home to rest and clear his mind.

Things that made him human.

December 28th was a particularly busy day, and although it was his birthday and he could have taken the day off, Keigo wasn't thinking about it. He was too focused on all the meetings and the day's schedule to dwell on the fact that he was already 32 years old. It wasn't as if he had a family to support or that would be waiting for him at home with open arms that night, was it?

Even though his fans always celebrated his birthdays when he was Hawks, it never felt as personal and warm as yours did.

Going out with him was a challenge in every sense. A man who had come from war, a person who had been broken, molded in every possible way until he became a weapon, lost everything, and then emerged free, holding as many secrets as Pandora's box—it was quite complicated.

There were long moments when that imposing man felt like a small child under your arms and whispered affection.

So, it was a genuine surprise that winter night when he was greeted with a small but unexpected party at his apartment.

The people Keigo cared about most were there, and he felt quite happy. No one could deny that his surprised face, captured in a photograph, was quite endearing and funny.

That night passed peacefully, with relaxed conversations, laughter, and smiles, but one thing kept nagging at Keigo: who had organized it?

It could have been Tokoyami, maybe Best Jeanist, perhaps his coworkers, or even Lady Nat (though that was a very low possibility), but the pieces quickly connected when he thought of you.

He didn't say anything at first, remaining silent, smiling warmly every time he glanced in your direction until the small gathering ended.

The music was still playing softly from the living room TV speakers. Tokoyami and Dark Shadow had helped you clean up before leaving, so you were just putting things away and throwing them in the trash. Keigo had been watching you silently, as if contemplating what to say, even though it was on the tip of his tongue, while he ate some cake.

But he knew, he knew perfectly well that he was grateful to you, even though what came out of his mouth was this:

"You didn't have to do this for me, you know? I don't usually celebrate my birthday." He murmurs with his mouth slightly full, which makes you glance over your shoulder.

"I know," you say, resuming your cleaning, "but still, I wanted to. I know it doesn't bother you, but I wanted you to know that there are people who care about you, me... I care about you." You add, letting out a soft chuckle as you realize how cheesy it sounds.

But Keigo doesn't seem bothered; in fact, while you're not looking at him, his golden eyes gleam faintly. Of course, he didn't need you to tell him that; he was aware of the people who cared about him. But hearing it from you, knowing you were the most sincere person he'd ever met, made his heart ache.

Without another word, he moved quickly but silently toward you, wrapped his arms around your waist, and began to shower you with quick, playful, and affectionate kisses on your cheek, jawline, and neck.

You laughed, caught off guard by this amorous outburst. You couldn't form a coherent word; Keigo was already whispering joyful and grateful words, grateful that you were thinking of him, that you were reminding him that despite everything that had happened, you were always there for him.