The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

The monitor in front of us displayed the city streets where the kaiju had emerged, the feed switching between different camera angles as the Defense Force moved into position.

I sat frozen in my chair, my hands wrapped around my notebook without realizing it.

Himari sat beside me, unusually silent. Neither of us needed to say anything.

This was different. Watching the Defense Force on the news was one thing.

Being inside their headquarters was another. But knowing someone down there? That changed everything. The camera shifted. And there he was.

Vice-Captain Hoshina stood among the officers, weapon already drawn. The person on the screen looked familiar. But not completely. The easy smile was gone.

The playful expression he wore when teasing his squad was nowhere to be found. This was the man everyone depended on.

My fingers tightened around my notebook.

"He's fast," Himari whispered.

I nodded. I couldn't look away.

The kaiju moved. Even through the screen, the size difference was overwhelming. The creature's movements shook the camera feed, each step sending debris across the street.

And then Hoshina moved.

I barely followed him. One second he was standing there. The next, he was already gone.

The room went silent except for the sound of the broadcast.

His movements weren't reckless. They weren't rushed. Every step had a purpose. Every strike was controlled. Precise. Beautiful. My breath caught.

I had seen him fight before. In the apartment. That night.

But that had been different. That had been him protecting me. This was him protecting everyone.

Another attack came. The kaiju swung. My heart stopped. I leaned forward without thinking.

"Hoshina..." The words barely left my mouth.

He moved out of the way just in time. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

Himari glanced at me. She didn't tease me. Didn't make a comment.

She just looked back at the screen.

Because she understood.

Another officer joined him, and the two moved together effortlessly. They trusted each other's movements without needing to speak.

That was what surprised me most. Not his strength. Not his speed. The trust.

Everyone around him knew exactly where he would be. They knew he would protect them. And he knew they would do the same.

The camera zoomed closer. Hoshina's expression was focused, his eyes sharp as he studied the kaiju's movements. For a moment, I forgot to breathe. Because suddenly I understood something.

The man who joked over drinks. The man who laughed at my stubbornness. The man who had stood in that study room and told me to stay put with a seriousness that made my heart race...

He wasn't just someone who happened to be good at fighting. He carried responsibility like it belonged there.

The kaiju lunged again. My hand flew to my chest. Every time it got close. Every time he disappeared into danger.

Every time the camera lost sight of him for even a second.

My heart clenched.

I hated this. I hated sitting here. I hated watching a screen and being unable to do anything.

"Himari."

She looked at me. "I know."

My eyes stayed on the monitor. "I understand why he told me to stay." A small pause. "But I hate it."

Her expression softened. "Yeah."

Because there was nothing more terrifying than realizing someone mattered to you. Not when they were standing beside you. When they were somewhere you couldn't reach.

The battle continued. And eventually, just like everyone expected from him, Hoshina found the opening.

The final strike landed. The kaiju fell.

The officers moved in immediately, securing the area and checking for injuries.

Only then did I realize my shoulders had been tense the entire time. I sank back into my chair. A shaky laugh escaped me. "I think I forgot to breathe."

Himari looked over. "You were holding your breath every time he moved."

I frowned. "I was not."

She gave me a look. "You absolutely were."

I looked back at the screen. The broadcast had moved on to reporting the successful mission. But I wasn't watching anymore. I was thinking about him. About the way he looked before he left.

The way he had told me to promise. Not as a vice-captain. Not as someone giving an order. As someone who genuinely wanted me safe. And somehow, that scared me more than anything else. Because now I knew.

It wasn't just that I liked the man who made me laugh. I respected the man everyone trusted with their lives. And that realization was much harder to ignore.

The broadcast had moved on from the battle.

The reporters on screen were already discussing the successful elimination, replaying footage of the Defense Force's final strike and interviewing civilians who had been evacuated safely.

But the camera eventually shifted away from the officers.

Toward the aftermath.

The cleanup crews.

I watched silently as the vehicles arrived, as workers in protective gear stepped out and began organizing the area. They moved with the same practiced efficiency as the soldiers had, carefully clearing debris, inspecting damage, and beginning the long process of making the streets look normal again.

The battle was over. But the work wasn't.

That was something I was starting to understand about the Defense Force. Everyone saw the moment the kaiju fell. Almost nobody saw what came after.

I rested my chin against my hand, watching the screen. And somehow, my thoughts drifted back to him. Of course they did. I almost laughed at myself. I was so far gone it was embarrassing.

A few days. That was all it had been. A few days ago, a chance encounter turned into something I couldn't stop thinking about.

And now I was sitting in a Defense Force guest room watching a broadcast because the man I liked was somewhere out there. The man I liked. I hated how easily that thought came now.

Because I did. I liked him. Not just the teasing. Not just the confidence. Not just the way he smiled, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

I liked the way he noticed things. The way he remembered small details. The way everyone looked at him when things got serious was because they trusted him.

I liked the man who walked into that study room and made me laugh after four days of silence. I liked the man who told me to stay safe, as if it were the most important thing in the world. And that was the problem.

Because it was very easy to get swept up in someone like that. Someone who made you feel seen. Someone who made you feel wanted. Someone who could walk into a room and make your entire day change.

But I couldn't let myself run headfirst into it. Not again. I didn't want to become another distraction. His job wasn't something small. It wasn't something he could put aside because someone wanted his attention. People depended on him. His team depended on him. The entire city depended on him.

And if I cared about him... Really cared about him... Then I had to understand that. I couldn't expect him to always be available. I couldn't expect him to answer every message immediately. I couldn't make his responsibilities about me.

My feelings were mine to handle. A small smile tugged at my lips. Besides... I had a feeling Hoshina Soshiro wasn't exactly someone who appreciated being chased. He liked a challenge.

The thought made me laugh quietly. Of course he did. I looked back at the screen as the cleanup crews continued their work. "You're a problem," I whispered.

Not because he had done anything wrong. Because somehow, in the middle of everything, I had started caring. And that was terrifying. But maybe.. Maybe it wasn't something I had to fight.

Maybe I just had to let it happen naturally. One step at a time.

After all, I wasn't the only one with a life outside of this. And if this became something more... I wanted it to be because we both chose it. Not because I rushed toward him before he was ready.

Himari had taken the initiative and pursued the aftermath cleanup scheduling for the division itself inside the building.

"Take a break." She told me. Closing the door behind her. I had laid down in silent contemplation for a few hours, unknowingly sleeping and waking again.

The guest room door opened quietly.

I looked up from my pillow, expecting Himari to return with another update or maybe some food from the cafeteria.

Instead, I found him standing there. For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Hoshina leaned against the doorframe, his jacket still hanging loosely over one shoulder. He looked different from earlier. Not injured. Not exhausted. Just worn down. Like the weight he carried had settled back onto him the second the mission ended.

"You've been hiding in here."

I blinked. "I have not been hiding."

His eyebrow lifted. "Really?"

"Really."

"Because from where I'm standin', it looks a lot like hiding."

I crossed my arms. "I was working."

He looked toward the monitor still displaying the paused aftermath of the battle. "Working?"

I hesitated. "...Thinking."

A small smile tugged at his mouth. "That's a reporter's way of saying hiding."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop myself from smiling. There it was. That familiar feeling. The easy back-and-forth. The thing I had missed more than I wanted to admit.

He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. For a moment, it was just the two of us again. No squad. No cameras. No assignment. Just us.

"You watched?" The question was quieter than I expected.

I looked back at the screen. "Yeah."

He nodded slowly. "Was it scary?"

I almost laughed. "Was it scary?"

He smiled slightly. "Fair question."

I looked at him. "Yes."

The answer came out honestly. His expression softened.

"But not because I thought you couldn't handle it."

That seemed to catch him off guard. "No?"

I shook my head. "I think that's what scared me."

He tilted his head. "How so?"

I looked down at my notebook resting beside me. "Because I understood why everyone trusts you."

The teasing expression faded.

I continued before I could overthink it. "I've interviewed a lot of people. I've written about people who work hard and never get noticed. But I've never seen a group look at someone the way your division looks at you."

He was quiet.

"They don't just respect you because you're strong." I glanced up. "They trust you."

For a moment, Hoshina didn't respond. Then he looked away with a small laugh.

"You're making it sound awfully serious."

"It is serious."

"I was hopin' you'd just tell me I looked cool."

I stared at him.

"You did." I was serious. No jokes this time.

That stopped him. Only for a second. But I noticed. A small pause. A tiny crack in the confident expression he wore so easily.

Then he smiled. "Well." He cleared his throat. "I'll take that too."

I laughed softly. The tension eased.

But not completely. There was something different now. Something quieter.

"I understand now," I said.

"Understand what?"

"Why you told me to stay put."

His expression shifted. "You weren't joking."

"No."

"I noticed."

I looked away, embarrassed. "I know."

He smiled. "Good."

The simple answer made me look back at him. "You sound very pleased with yourself."

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because you're stubborn and don't like to listen to me."

I gasped. "Excuse me?"

"Very stubborn."

"I am not."

He gave me a look.

I immediately looked away. "...Okay, maybe a little."

He laughed. "Thought so."

I smiled despite myself. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. It was the opposite. It felt like we had finally stepped around the thing we had both been avoiding.

Four days of silence. Four days of wondering. Four days of waiting for the other person to make the first move.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly. "Next time, just text me."

I looked at him. "Next time?" A small grin appeared. "You're already assuming there'll be a next time?"

"Didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"Maybe."

I laughed. There it was. That was what I liked about him. Not just the confidence. Not just the charm.

The way he could make everything feel lighter. Even when everything around us was heavy. I pulled out my phone.

"Fine."

He looked amused. "Fine?"

"Give me your phone." He blinked.

"My phone?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"So we stop being idiots."

A slow smile spread across his face.

"That's a pretty harsh way to describe us."

"It's accurate."

He laughed again.

And this time, I didn't mind hearing it.

Because for the first time in days, I wasn't wondering if he wanted to talk to me.

I knew he did. And somehow...That was enough.

The day ended with a saved photo of the two of us together, my lips on his.