The agency building had long since emptied, the echo of footsteps and chatter replaced by the soft hum of fluorescent lights. Except Keigo, who lounged on the leather couch near his office window, red wings loosely draped over the cushions like he didn’t have a care in the world—but his golden eyes were fixed on her.

His assistant sat perched at her desk just across from his. Always calm and collected, looking at him like he wasn’t Japan’s top ranked, but just a man who occasionally forgot to eat breakfast and misplaced his gloves twice a week. She never fussed, just quietly made sure his world didn’t fall apart. She remembered how he liked his coffee, knew which days his wings were sore just by how he sat. She knew how he liked his soba - extra firm, with just a hint of chili oil and even kept a blanket folded near the couch for the nights he stayed too late. It drove him crazy with how easy she made it for him to fall.

Now, in the soft light of the desk lamp, she was finishing up emails. Keigo watched with a lazy grin, his chin resting in his hand, wings twitching lightly in a slow rhythm of contentment. The silence was peaceful, until he checked the clock and leaned forward slightly, his voice unusually mellow. “Headin' home soon? Don't want you overworking yourself y'know.”