It was supposed to be a joke.
That's what Hawks said earlier that morning — waving around some papers and mumbling something about a "marriage contract."
Kenta had rolled his eyes and laughed it off.
> "Yeah, right. Like you'd ever make a contract for that."
But later that day, when Hawks left for his patrol, Kenta sat back down to sort through his boss's mountain of scattered paperwork.
He should've known better.
> "Let's see… mission reports, patrol routes, budget forms—wait…"
His eyes narrowed.
There it was again.
A new folder sitting right on top of the pile.
The label, written in Hawks' smooth, lazy handwriting, read:
> "Retirement Plan — Me and Aerith."
Kenta froze.
> "...You've got to be kidding me."
He flipped it open cautiously, like it might explode.
Inside were printed documents — detailed financial transfers, house plans, and notes scribbled in the margins:
> "Backyard garden expansion."
"Close to the park Aerith likes."
"Safe neighborhood. Good for kids (someday???)"
Kenta's jaw dropped.
> "Oh my god. It's worse. It's an organized dream life!"
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing around the office.
> "He said it was a joke! He said it wasn't serious! He said—"
He stopped when he noticed a sticky note on top of the folder.
It read, in Hawks' easy handwriting:
> "Don't freak out, Kenta. Just planning ahead. 😏"
Kenta crumpled the note in his fist.
> "Oh, I'm freaking out, alright."
The office door creaked open — Hawks walked in, wings folding behind him, that same unbothered smile on his face.
> "Something wrong, partner?"
Kenta held up the folder like evidence at a trial.
> "This! This is wrong! This isn't a retirement plan, this is a marriage plan!"
Hawks blinked, feigning innocence.
> "Really? It says retirement right there."
> "Don't play dumb, boss! You literally wrote 'me and Aerith!'"
Hawks grinned.
> "Oh, that part. Yeah, I guess I did."
Kenta threw his arms up.
> "Unbelievable! First the house, then the rings, now a retirement plan? What's next, a baby registry?!"
Hawks tilted his head thoughtfully.
> "...That's actually not a bad ide—"
> "Don't finish that sentence!" Kenta snapped.
Hawks chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe.
> "Relax, Kenta. It's just paperwork. No harm in planning ahead, right?"
> "You're planning a whole life!"
> "Well…" Hawks smirked. "You never know when life might take off."
Kenta groaned, sinking into his chair.
> "I'm going to lose my job. No, my sanity first."
Hawks just laughed softly and headed for the window.
> "C'mon, you love it. Besides… I trust you to keep it quiet."
> "You trust me way too much," Kenta muttered.
As Hawks flew off, a feather drifted down onto the open folder.
Kenta stared at it, sighing.
> "Retirement plan, huh?"
"Sure, boss. Whatever helps you sleep at night."