False Reality

Twenty-One Questions

"Oh! Before we start, I found this thing, I think it might help." Keigo sits bolt upright, feathers darting from his wings.

You perk up a little in interest, watching the crimson feathers fly with purpose upstairs, taking no time at all in coming back down, all of them holding what looks like some kind of tablet and a pen, flying the items directly to you.
They carefully drop the tablet and pen next to your thigh, and you gently pick up the device, moving your food off your lap and onto the table so that you can give the little white slab a proper once over.

He wouldn't let you have your phone as a punishment for ditching a few hours of class, but had been out and bought you a tablet?
'It probably has kiddie controls on it.' The realistic part of your brain thinks.
You turn it over in your hands, looking for the 'on' button, but there doesn't seem to be one.
Keigo chuckles.

"It's nothin' fancy kiddo." He grins. "It's a boring writing tablet. It should work if you tap the screen with the pen!"

He abandons his food too in favour of leaning close to you, looking over your shoulder excitedly.
You follow his instructions, your eyes widening when the screen loads up. The thing is clearly brand new, which is not what you're used to.
Every piece of technology you'd owned before had been second hand, with dents and scratches. This thing looked like it'd never been touched by human hands.

"Write on it! Write on it!" Keigo chants excitedly, pointing at the screen.

You cautiously write 'hi', unsure on why Keigo's so excited for you to write on it.
Until you see the characters on the brilliant white screen. You look up at him with a raised eyebrow.
He's beaming, his eyes sparkling with mischievous joy.

"I set it to rainbow." He says proudly.

You turn your attention back to the tablet cradled in your hands.
He'd downplayed it by referring to it as a 'boring writing tablet', but you could see it would have been expensive. And the fact he had gifted you something so expensive while punishing you began to make you feel guilty.
He moves placements on the settee, sitting right next to you, his arm pressed against yours and one of his wings draped across one of yours behind the sofa.

"Look!" He gently takes the thin tablet out of your hands. "You can make seperate folders for class notes or just notes in general. Like, if you wanted to have basic written answers for basic questions, or even just have questions like 'how are you' written out already, you could make folders for them!"

Keigo shows you how to create new documents and folders with a practiced ease that makes it clear that he'd been toying around with it a fair bit before giving it to you.

"I thought that maybe something like this might help you out a bit. I felt a little bad leavin' you with nothing to communicate with today." He admits, scratching the back of his head. "Guess it's my way of saying 'sorry for forcing you to talk today, kid'."

To his merit, he does look kind of sheepish, his nails anxiously scratching at the pin feathers on the back of his neck.
He's like a whole new Keigo in comparison to who you'd been dealing with prior. It was more like the Keigo you'd seen interacting with Rumi.
Just a guy in his early twenties. Not a reluctant father figure.
This actually made you feel like he wanted you around.

He'd actually made an effort to find a method of communication you could use without actually talking.

You feel a little guilty for losing your shit at him yesterday now.
Admittedly, even though he'd gone about it the wrong way, he had just been trying to inform you that he, and everyone else, had been concerned for your safety.
He didn't even yell at you once. His voice had never raised beyond his usual pitch the entire argument, even after you'd told him you hated him and wished you'd been in the building with your parents when it'd been crushed.