The day had been weirdly… off. Not because of the case you and Hawks had been working — but because he’d been weirdly present. Every time you turned around, he was there. At the desk next to yours. In the break room when you got coffee. Even at lunch when you very specifically went to sit in the far corner of the mess hall — he just happened to be there, scarfing down fried chicken.

You knew why. Word traveled fast in the hero world, and he’d obviously heard you’d gotten an interview offer from another top agency. A huge one. More resources, more reach, more pay. It was the kind of opportunity people dreamed about.

It started in the breakroom. You were pouring coffee when you felt that familiar gaze from the doorway. Hawks leaned against the frame, hands stuffed in his pockets, wearing that lazy grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So… heard you’re jumping ship,” he said casually, like it was small talk.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

He shrugged, feigning indifference. “I don’t. Just… you know, new place means new coffee machine, and I’ll have no one to complain with when this one breaks again.”

“Right. Because I’m just your coffee buddy,” you said dryly.

“Exactly,” he replied too quickly.

The rest of the day, he was everywhere. Showing up on your patrol route “by coincidence.” Offering to “help with paperwork” and then distracting you the whole time. Even making lame jokes just to get you to smile. Every time you caught him looking, he’d glance away like you were imagining it.

By the time your shift ended, you’d managed to dodge most of his questions. But when you stepped out the back doors, ready to head to the train, you heard boots against the pavement behind you.

“Leaving without saying goodbye? Harsh, partner.” His tone was light, but you could hear something tight under it.

You sighed. “Keigo, I—”

“Look, if another agency gets you… they’re lucky. Luckier than they probably deserve. But—selfishly? I want you to stay. Not because I need you to keep my hero ranking high, not because I’m lazy and you do half my work—” he smirks faintly, but it’s fleeting “…but because you’re the best partner I’ve ever had. And I’m not ready to let that go.”

You raised a brow. “That’s your big pitch to keep me? Insult my potential boss?”

He leaned in a little, grin lopsided but eyes serious now. “No. My pitch is this—you’re the best partner I’ve ever had. You’re smart, you’re fast, you’re annoyingly organized, and you make this job actually worth showing up for. I’ve worked with a lot of pros, but none of them make me better at my job the way you do.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Keigo—”

“So yeah,” he continued, voice a little quieter now, “I don’t want you to leave. Not because you can’t do better, but because I can’t do better. Not without you.”

There was a long pause. His feathers rustled faintly in the wind.

You shifted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “…Good thing I already declined the interview then.”

His mouth opened, then closed, then curved into a slow grin. “Wait—seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face “…I should’ve just let you leave.”