The next morning, the agency was unusually quiet.
Kenta sat at his desk, pretending to focus on his stack of reports — but his mind was stuck on one thing.
That drawer.
That velvet box.
And Hawks' too-casual grin the night before.
> "He thinks he's slick…" Kenta muttered. "But not slick enough."
When Hawks finally walked in, feathers twitching lazily as he hummed a tune, Kenta was waiting.
> "Morning, Kenta. You look like you didn't sleep," Hawks said cheerfully.
> "Yeah, funny thing," Kenta replied dryly. "Hard to sleep when your boss is building a secret double life."
Hawks raised a brow, still smiling.
> "You've been reading too many spy novels."
> "Spy novels don't come with jewelry receipts, boss."
The grin froze for half a second. Barely noticeable — but Kenta noticed.
He leaned forward, arms crossed.
> "So. Let's talk about these… investments."
> "Ah, you mean the house?" Hawks said smoothly. "Sound financial move."
> "With a flower garden."
> "Nature's relaxing."
> "And the jewelry store purchase?"
Hawks blinked, feigning innocence.
> "Gift?"
> "Uh-huh. For who?"
> "Myself?"
Kenta just stared.
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Kenta leaned back in his chair, smirking.
> "You know, at this point, you might as well just buy a ring and—"
He stopped mid-sentence, realizing something.
The way Hawks' hand twitched.
The faint pink tint on his face.
The tiny smile tugging at his lips.
Kenta's eyes widened.
> "Wait. You didn't."
Hawks looked anywhere but at him.
> "Did what?"
> "Oh my god, you did."
> "I didn't do anything," Hawks said quickly, a little too defensively.
> "You actually bought one, didn't you?!" Kenta's voice cracked in disbelief. "Please tell me it's not what I think it is!"
Hawks sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, feathers fluttering faintly.
> "It's… not a big deal."
> "Not a big deal?! You bought a ring!"
Hawks shrugged, trying to play it off — but the soft smile on his face betrayed him.
> "Maybe two," he admitted quietly.
Kenta nearly dropped his clipboard.
> "Boss. Please. Tell me this is another PR cover-up or a fake engagement operation or—"
> "Nope."
> "Oh, this is real, isn't it?"
> "Maybe."
Kenta just groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
> "You're going to give me gray hair before thirty."
> "That's what assistants are for," Hawks teased.
> "No, assistants are for paperwork! Not covering up secret romantic escapades!"
Hawks laughed, genuinely this time, and patted Kenta's shoulder.
> "Relax, Kenta. You worry too much. It's not like I'm proposing tomorrow."
Kenta shot him a look.
> "...You already picked the date, didn't you?"
Hawks only smiled — that calm, unreadable, I-know-something-you-don't kind of smile — and walked off toward his office.
As the door shut, Kenta slumped into his chair, muttering to himself:
> "Unbelievable. My boss — the Number Two Hero — is out here planning weddings like it's part of a mission briefing."
He glanced at the paperwork again and sighed.
> "If he calls it an 'investment' one more time, I'm quitting."