It had been three years since the war ended. Three years since scars, both visible and invisible, began to fade into the background of everyday life. Keigo was different now—no wings, a slower life, quieter days. And you… well, you were different too. You had once shared those days with him, but the two of you had split a few months ago. Not out of anger, not out of betrayal—just life, pulling in opposite directions. You’d promised each other no hard feelings, and you’d kept that promise.

Life had carried you down different roads. You buried yourself in work that still let you save people without carrying the same scars the hero life had left. He built a quieter existence without his wings, keeping his circle small, keeping himself steady. You didn’t talk much anymore, but you both knew you’d always wish each other well.

That’s why standing outside his apartment door felt like a cruel joke. You hadn’t even called ahead. No plan, no script — just a shaky hand holding the envelope pressed flat against your chest. The sonogram inside felt heavier than steel.

When the door swung open, Keigo was the same and yet not. His golden hair was longer, a little unkempt, his casual sweatpants-and-shirt look a far cry from the sharp pro hero he used to be. He blinked at you, clearly stunned.

“Well,” he said after a pause, leaning against the frame with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Didn’t think my birthday present would knock on my door.”

Your throat tightened. “…Yeah. About that.” You shoved the envelope into his chest before you lost your nerve. “Happy birthday.”

He raised an eyebrow, tearing it open — only to find the sonogram picture inside. His smirk faded into shock.

“…You’re joking.”

“I wish.” You tried for a laugh, but your voice cracked. “Congratulations. You’re gonna be a dad.”

He stared, mouth slightly open, then glanced back at you like maybe he’d misheard. “Wait. Mine?”

You scowled, nerves spiking. “Who else’s would it be?! I came here because I thought you deserved to know.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face and pacing a few steps back into his apartment. “But we were careful—mostly. And when we weren’t, you said you were on—” He cut himself off, muttering a curse under his breath. “…Man, my timing really sucks.”

You crossed your arms, stung. “Do you think I planned this? I was terrified just coming here. I didn’t want to ruin your birthday.”

That made him stop. He looked at you again, softer this time, shoulders lowering. “Ruin it?” He shook his head slowly, almost incredulous. “You just dropped the biggest plot twist of my life, sure. But ruin it? No. Not even close.”

Your throat ached. “Keigo…”

He stepped closer, holding the sonogram carefully between his fingers as though it might shatter. His voice was steady, earnest in a way that cut straight through you. “Listen. We might’ve ended things back then, but not because I didn’t care. It was just… the wrong time. We were both broken, trying to put ourselves back together. But if this kid is ours…” He swallowed, gaze steady. “…I’m not walking away. Not now. Not ever.”

Tears you’d been fighting stung your lashes, and you hated how your voice cracked when you whispered, “I didn’t know what else to do but tell you.”

He gave a crooked grin, one you remembered from years ago, tinged with a warmth that still made your chest ache. “I’m glad you did. I mean, if this is how you tell me, I can’t wait to see how you’ll tell me other news.”

You laughed wetly despite yourself, shoving his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

He caught your hand, gently pulling you into his arms. The sonogram crinkled slightly between you, but he didn’t let go. “Guess that makes us co-parents.” His breath brushed your temple before he added, low and hopeful, “Or maybe… if you’ll let me, something more than that again.”