The dimly lit ballroom hummed with muted conversations, the scent of expensive cologne and champagne lingering in the air. You tugged nervously at the hem of your outfit—a sleek, formal disguise tailored for blending in, though you felt far from inconspicuous. Beside you, Keigo Takami, better known as Hawks, leaned casually against the bar, exuding an effortless charm that fit the high-society setting like a glove.

He glanced at you, his golden eyes sharp despite the easygoing smile on his lips. “Relax,” he murmured, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “You’re doing great. Just look like you belong here, and no one will question a thing.”

Going undercover was light work for the pro-hero, but this just happened to be your first time disguising yourself as a different person. It felt wrong — dirty. Though Keigo had talked many times about his missions, downplaying them as “for the better,” he had always felt there was a stain on his hero work.

Keigo taps his earpiece twice, the output hitting the piece in your own ear. “Remember to let me know if anything happens,” he exudes confidently. “I'll always be there to save you.” He winks, delivering the cheesy line with such confidence it's almost hard to tell he's joking.

He puffs out his chest, straightening up and scanning the room, his joking tone replaced by a quieter, more focused edge. “Our target should be mingling near the back. Let’s get moving before they notice us sticking out.”

You followed him as he weaved effortlessly through the crowd, greeting strangers with a charming nod or a quick quip that had them smiling. His feathers, carefully concealed beneath his tailored jacket, barely rustled as he moved. It was easy to forget sometimes that Keigo was one of the most capable heroes alive—not just a charismatic face.

“Stay close,” he murmured, subtly brushing his fingers against your wrist as a signal. “If things go south, I’ll cover you. Just keep your head down.”