Feather Bound

Chapter 51

He blinked as he stepped inside, his eyes meeting Mamoru's for just a second before he looked away, frowning. Mamoru's appearance was shocking; he looked rougher than Keigo could ever remember seeing before. His hair appeared dirty and unkempt, dark circles under his eyes, and he'd clearly lost weight. He certainly hadn't looked that bad before they'd left the office last week. Before he could open his mouth and ask if he was okay, a small cough drew his attention to the Vice President, seated at his desk, his head resting on his laced fingers as he glared at him.

"Hawks, sit," he said coldly, gesturing to the two seats in front of the desk. Keigo was quick to comply, folding his wings against him tightly as he settled into a chair, his hands gripping the armrests tightly. His body was trying to stress grip, but he had to fight it; he couldn't do that now, especially not here. For a second, they all sat in silence, the only noise coming from a monitor on his desk, faced away from Keigo. What was that noise? It sounded like a fan or maybe a heater? Jiro gave him a tight smile, reaching into a desk drawer and tossing an envelope over the table towards him. He nodded his head at him, and Keigo willed his hand to move to grab it.

"Go ahead, take it, tell me what it says," he said, and Keigo could've let out a sigh of relief when his hand actually cooperated, grabbing the envelope and ripping it open. His hands trembled as he reached inside, pulling out the paper and unfolding it. He scanned it, frowning as he struggled to understand the medical terms being used. What the hell was HCG? Until finally, his eyes landed on two words, Not Pregnant.

"Her testing results for the month? You demanded I come out here at 7 in the morning just to tell me that I'm not having a baby?" He asked in confusion, lowering the paper to meet Jiro's gaze. "This could have been an email," he added with a snort, and Jiro just smiled at him, letting out a dry chuckle himself before frowning.

"Keep reading," he said, and he swallowed as he turned his gaze back to the results, pausing as he finally saw what he was referring to. His heart pounded against his ribs as bile rose through his throat. This was very fucking bad. They had swabbed her to check for seminal fluid at her last testing, which, of course, had come back negative. He looked back up at Jiro, trying his hardest to keep a decent poker face as they blinked at each other.

"Say it out loud," Jiro hissed, and Keigo clenched his fist as he met the Vice President's gaze.

"Seminal fluid not detected," he said through clenched teeth, reading the results out loud, each word like acid coming from his throat.

"And why is that?" Jiro asked, slowly rising from his chair and leaning over the desk towards him, his anger obvious now. He had to think quickly; the last thing he wanted was for them to find out Haruki was involved in any of this. She had a family, a baby on the way; she didn't need the Commission beating down her door for answers about anything. He was fucking trained for this, to lie; he could do it.

Maybe he could talk his way out of this situation, buy himself a little bit of time. Promise them that next month they would get their results. It would at least give him enough time to get Himari and Y/N out of the country and as far away from this bullshit as possible. The thought fucking broke his heart, a huge screaming wound in his chest opening as he thought about having to say goodbye to them, but that was his only choice now. He had to protect them from the Commission, no matter the cost.

He gave them a relaxed smile, forcing his nerves down as he reclined in his seat, and he chuckled at them both. "Is this what's got you all upset this morning, boss man? It's because I ended up busting in her mouth that last time, that's where she wanted it. I mean, how do you say no to—"

He heard the sound of the smack before he fully even felt it, a thunderous crack that echoed through the room like a gunshot. His eyes had screwed themselves shut on impact, but as he blinked them open, he could feel the threat of tears burning behind them, stinging with a mixture of pain and humiliation. Had he seriously just fucking smacked him? The air seemed to crackle with tension as if the room itself recoiled from the violence that had unfolded.