The wind was annoying.

Not dramatic—just cold, persistent, and very there, brushing against the still-wet blood on my shoulder like it had a personal vendetta.

I glanced around the rooftop once, then back at Hawks.

"...can you get me down."

Polite.

Clear.

Very reasonable.

He didn't even blink.

"No."

I stared at him.

"...I meant off the roof."

"I know what you meant."

"Then why am I still here."

"Because I want answers."

I exhaled slowly.

Of course he did.

"You dragged me up here," I said flatly. "You asked your questions. You didn't like the answers. That sounds like a you problem."

"It becomes a you problem when you try to leave."

"I wasn't trying to leave," I shot back. "I was trying to not bleed out on a rooftop like an idiot."

"You're not bleeding out."

"I'm bleeding."

"Minor detail."

"It's really not."

He crossed his arms slightly, wings shifting behind him, blocking just enough space to make it clear—very clear—that he wasn't letting this end yet.

"...you're avoiding," he said.

"I'm done."

"Same thing."

"Not really."

"Yes, really."

I clicked my tongue, stepping closer to the edge just enough to make a point.

"...I have a business to run."

"You have a bullet wound."

"I've had worse."

"That's not comforting."

"It's not supposed to be."

There was a pause.

Wind moved between us again.

Then—

"Take me down," I repeated, this time a little less polite.

He tilted his head slightly.

"No."

"...why."

"Because the second your feet hit the ground, you're gone."

"I have nowhere else to be."

"That's a lie."

"It's not."

"You're already thinking about getting back to that café."

"...yes," I said. "Because unlike you, I have responsibilities."

"And I have concerns."

"Not my problem."

"You made it my problem."

"I really didn't."

"You dragged half the city into a mess over coffee."

"It was good coffee."

"That's not helping your case."

"I'm not making one."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

"...you're impossible."

"I've been told."

"Repeatedly, I'm guessing."

"Frequently."

Silence again.

Then—

"...you're not walking away from this," he said.

"I am."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No."

I looked at him.

Flat.

Unimpressed.

"...this is kidnapping."

"It's not."

"You took me somewhere against my will."

"I'm a hero."

"That doesn't make it better."

"It kind of does."

"It really doesn't."

He almost smiled at that.

Almost.

"...give me one reason," he said, tone shifting slightly—less teasing, more serious now. "One actual reason I should just let you go."

I met his gaze.

Didn't hesitate.

"Because you won't get anything else out of me like this."

A pause.

"Try me."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"...you're really sticking with that?"

"Yes."

Silence stretched between us again.

Longer this time.

He watched me.

Measured.

Thinking.

And then—

I added, quieter this time, but just as steady—

"And because if I wanted to disappear, you wouldn't have caught me in the first place."

That—

That made him pause.

Not long.

Just enough.

But I saw it.

Good.

I straightened slightly, ignoring the pull in my shoulder.

"Now," I said calmly, "take me down."

He didn't answer immediately.

Didn't move.

Just looked at me like he was trying to decide something.

Weighing options.

Risks.

Outcomes.

"...you're a problem," he said finally.

"I know."

"...and I don't like not knowing what kind."

"That sounds like a you problem."

A breath.

Then another.

And finally—

His wings shifted.

Just slightly.

"...fine," he muttered.

Progress.

But I didn't relax.

Not yet.

Because with him?

"Don't make me regret this," he added.

"I won't."

That was a lie.

We both knew it.

Hawks

Yeah.

No.

I wasn't taking him back to the café.

Not yet.

I watched Izuku Midoriya for another second after agreeing—really looking this time. The blood had slowed, sure, but not enough. His posture was steady, but too practiced. Too used to ignoring things that shouldn't be ignored.

"...don't make me regret this," I had said.

And I meant it.

But that didn't mean I was going to be stupid about it.

"...we're not going to your café," I said, already stepping closer again.

He narrowed his eyes slightly.

"That wasn't the agreement."

"There wasn't an agreement," I corrected easily. "There was you asking nicely and me deciding how this goes."

"That sounds familiar," he muttered dryly.

I ignored that.

Feathers shifted again—gentler this time—as I lifted him just enough to get a proper hold.

Not dramatic.

Not forceful.

Just—

Controlled.

"...you're really pushing your luck," he said flatly.

"And you're really pushing your body," I shot back. "So we're even."

"I said I can fix it."

"I don't care."

"That's rude."

"That's accurate."

Before he could argue further, I moved.

Wings spread.

Air caught.

And we were back in the sky.

This time, I didn't go high.

Didn't need to.

Just fast.

Direct.

Purposeful.

"...you realize this is unnecessary," Izuku said after a moment, voice carrying over the wind.

"Nope."

"It is."

"You got shot."

"I've had worse."

"You keep saying that like it makes this better."

"It does for me."

"It doesn't for me."

Silence.

Then—

"...you're overreacting."

I laughed.

Actually laughed.

"Kid," I said, glancing down at him briefly, "I've seen people try to walk off injuries like that before."

"And?"

"They usually regret it."

"I won't."

"You will."

"I won't."

"...you're stubborn."

"I'm right."

"Debatable."

"Incorrect."

I shook my head slightly, adjusting my grip as the hospital came into view.

Bright.

Busy.

Safe.

Exactly where he should've gone in the first place.

"...we're here," I said.

"I didn't agree to this."

"Good thing I didn't ask."

We landed cleanly near the entrance, drawing immediate attention—because of course we did. A pro hero dropping in with a bleeding teenager wasn't exactly subtle.

A nurse rushed forward almost instantly.

"Oh my—what happened?!"

"Gunshot," I said simply, already setting Izuku down—but keeping a hand lightly on his shoulder just in case he decided to bolt.

He didn't.

Not immediately.

He just looked at the building.

Then at me.

Unimpressed.

"...you're unbelievable."

"I've been told."

"You ignored me."

"Yes."

"I told you I could handle it."

"And I ignored that too."

The nurse stepped closer, already assessing.

"We need to get him inside—"

"I'm fine," Izuku cut in.

"No, you're not," I said at the exact same time.

She didn't hesitate.

"Inside. Now."

I nudged him forward slightly.

"Go on, barista."

He sighed.

Long.

Dramatic.

"...if I get billed for this, I'm sending it to you."

"Put it on my tab."

"You're going to regret that."

"Worth it."

He glanced at me one last time.

Like he was deciding something.

Then—

He turned.

And walked inside.

No fight.

No argument.

Just—

Acceptance.

I watched him go for a second, arms crossing loosely as I leaned back slightly.

"...yeah," I muttered under my breath.

Because something about this kid?

Still didn't sit right.

And now—

I was definitely not done with him.