False Reality

Ice Breaker

Whatever it was that Keigo had read about kids sleep being disturbed if they had their phones in their rooms at night was clearly bullshit because you had slept worse without it.
In fact, you were furious for a good two hours, trying to figure out a way to get it back from him, only to reluctantly admit to yourself that there was no way you were going to be able to do it. He was a pro hero and he'd literally slipped it into his own pocket. Not even a hoodie pocket where you might have been able to slide it out without him noticing.

You'd panicked about everything a person could worry about when their phone had been taken away.
First you stressed about whether or not you'd actually locked the phone screen before going upstairs. If it was unlocked, it wouldn't lock again until you physically pressed the button.
Which then lead to paranoia about him going through your phone. You didn't want him finding out you'd been Googling him, and even worse you didn't want him going through all your text messages. The ones with Ama and Genji weren't too bad, you supposed. But there were more flirty texts you'd had exchanged with a few guys online that you never wanted anyone to see.
Never mind the few photos on your camera roll you definitely didn't want Keigo to stumble across.

You'd somehow managed to fall asleep even despite all your panic, flat on your front with your wings outstretched.
When you had woken up, you were face to face with your phone, the piece of metal you'd been so worried about all night laying there on your pillow a lot cleaner and less smudged than you remember it being before.
When you pick it up, you're startled by a red feather darting from underneath it, brushing across your cheek before it slides under your door, off to go and rejoin its friends behind Keigos back no doubt.

"Hey Y/N!" You hear Keigo's upbeat voice call from downstairs. "Come get breakfast!"

Breakfast?
You groan, slowly getting up and shaking your wings out, sitting on the heels ot your feet.
You could have sworn that Keigo said he wasn't any good at cooking, and you can't smell anything that would indicate a cooked breakfast.
How did he even have so much energy in the morning, anyway?

You consider just flopping back down and going back to sleep, but as if he knew, one of his feathers jabs you in the back playfully, darting away when you try to catch it.
With a huff, you get up, sliding some pyjama shorts on and making your way downstairs.
As expected, it's not a cooked breakfast, just a whole bunch of chopped up fruit plated up on the kitchen island. Keigo leans on the work surface, some kind of smoothie in front of him as he taps away on his phone.

He perks up a little when he sees you coming down the stairs, giving you a small smile as you pad towards him, folding your wings tight behind you. This felt...weird.
It was too domestic.
You weren't used to having breakfast ready for you. You weren't used to seeing anyone in the morning. You were used to having to fend for yourself, having to measure out the exact amount of food you could have each morning to make sure mom wouldn't have to go food shopping before the two weeks were up.

Keigo clearly didn't have that worry, looking like he cut up whole fruits for you instead of rationing them out.

"Mornin'!" He greets. "Sleep okay? Musta been weird in a new place, right?"

You nod, cautiously sitting at the island, your eyes scanning the array of fruits in front of you.

"Want some tea? Coffee?" He asks. "There's juice, but it's the gross low sugar stuff."

You roll your eyes. Of course it would be.
Keigo gives you a sympathetic look, drinking his smoothie and wincing a little as he does so.
You gingerly pick up a slice of watermelon. That stuff was mostly water anyway, so it kind of counted as a drink.
At the same time you bite into it you begin typing a message for Keigo to read.