The next two days disappeared faster than either Himari or I expected.

Between signing confidentiality agreements, reviewing Defense Force protocols, charging camera equipment, and sitting through what felt like a hundred reminders about restricted information, there wasn't much time left to think about anything else. Mr. Big Bossman drilled one thing into our heads above all else: we weren't there to chase headlines. We were there to observe.

That meant early mornings, comfortable shoes, staying out of the officers' way, and remembering that the Defense Force wasn't a spectacle. It was people's workplace.

Somewhere between packing an extra notebook and triple-checking my press credentials, I realized I hadn't looked at my phone nearly as often as I had before. Whether that was because I'd finally accepted the silence or because I was too busy to dwell on it, I wasn't sure.

Either way, there still hadn't been a message.

By seven the following morning, Himari and I were standing outside the gates of the Third Division headquarters with matching clearance badges hanging around our necks and cameras slung over our shoulders.

"You nervous?" she asked.

"A little."

"Liar."

"...A lot."

She bumped my shoulder with a grin just as the gates began to slide open. "Welcome to the Defense Force," she said.

I felt like my heart was pounding in my chest from anticipation. He was either in there or wasn't. I didn't take it personally that he hadn't reached out for the past four days, as I hadn't reached out either. But three out of the four nights, I did fall asleep staring at my phone screen in hopes of a message. Tonight would be the same.

Captain Ashiro was already waiting for us just beyond the security checkpoint, her posture as composed as ever in her crisp uniform. Even standing still, she carried the kind of presence that made the bustling headquarters seem to quiet around her.

"Good morning," she greeted, extending a hand first to Himari, then to me. "Captain Mina Ashiro. Thank you both for coming."

"Thank you for having us, Captain," Himari replied before I could.

I shook her hand. "It's an honor. We really appreciate the opportunity."

Ashiro gave a small nod. "The opportunity is ours as well. The public usually sees us during emergencies. This assignment gives them a chance to see the people behind the uniforms."

She gestured for us to follow as we stepped farther into the base. Officers moved with purpose in every direction. Some jogged toward the training grounds with helmets tucked beneath their arms, while others wheeled crates of equipment between buildings. Mechanics disappeared beneath an open transport vehicle, and somewhere in the distance, the rhythmic crack of gunfire echoed from the firing range.

It was organized chaos.

Living, breathing, organized chaos.

"We'll begin with introductions," Ashiro said. "You'll be spending the next three days alongside Third Division, so I'd like everyone to be comfortable with one another."

She led us toward a small group gathered near the edge of one of the training fields. Their conversation died down as we approached, curiosity replacing it almost immediately.

"Everyone," Ashiro called.

The officers turned.

"These are Y/N and Himari from the Tokyo Times. They'll be observing our day-to-day operations over the next few days. Treat them as guests, but don't feel obligated to perform. I'd like them to see the division as it normally is."

A tall officer with messy dark hair brightened first.

"Oh! You're the reporters!" he said, stepping forward with an easy smile. "I'm Kafka Hibino. Nice to meet you."

He offered his hand enthusiastically, nearly bowing at the same time, before awkwardly correcting himself.

I couldn't help but smile.

"Nice to meet you too."

"Reno Ichikawa," the blond standing beside him introduced himself with a polite nod. "Welcome to Third Division."

"Kikoru Shinomiya."

The blonde woman folded her arms confidently, studying us for a moment before extending her hand.

"I've read a few of your articles. They're surprisingly accurate."

I blinked. "I'll take 'surprisingly' as a compliment."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You should."

Another officer stepped forward, a grin already on his face. "Iharu Furuhashi," he said. "Just don't catch me making a fool of myself during training."

Haruichi Izumo laughed beside him. "Speak for yourself."

"Traitor."

"Haruichi Izumo," he said, offering a more apologetic smile. "Ignore him. He gets competitive whenever there are cameras around."

"Do not."

"You absolutely do."

Their bickering drew a quiet chuckle from another officer standing nearby. "Aoi Kaguragi," he introduced himself simply. "Welcome."

Within minutes, the atmosphere had shifted from formal to friendly. Questions bounced back and forth between us—how long we'd been reporters, whether we'd ever been inside a Defense Force base before, what exactly we'd be photographing. The curiosity was mutual, and before long, conversation came naturally.

Captain Ashiro watched the exchange for a moment before speaking again. "Today's schedule will continue as normal. Please don't alter your routines on their account."

She glanced toward Kafka. "Hibino."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Would you and Ichikawa mind showing them around headquarters before morning drills begin?"

"Of course!" Kafka answered immediately.

Reno nodded. "We'd be happy to."

Ashiro looked back to Himari and me. "If either of you have questions throughout the day, don't hesitate to ask. We want this assignment to reflect who we are—not just what we do."

With one final nod, she excused herself, leaving us surrounded by officers who already seemed eager to show us around.

Kafka smiled the moment Captain Ashiro disappeared around the corner. "Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "guess we're tour guides now."

"I think that's above your pay grade," Reno replied.

Kafka gasped dramatically. "You wound me, Ichikawa."

"I've worked with you long enough to know how this is going to go."

"And how's that?"

"You'll get distracted."

"I do not get distracted."

Reno looked toward Himari and me. "He gets distracted."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I think we'll survive."

"See?" Kafka pointed triumphantly. "They believe in me."

"I don't," Reno said flatly.

Kafka pretended not to hear him and motioned for us to follow. "Come on! We'll start with the important stuff."

"The armory?" Himari guessed.

"The cafeteria."

"..."

"..."

"It's very important," Kafka defended. "You'll understand later."

Reno sighed. "We'll start with the training grounds."

"Fine," Kafka muttered.

The headquarters was much larger than it looked from the outside. Buildings branched off in every direction, connected by paved walkways that officers crossed with practiced efficiency. Some were headed toward briefing rooms with tablets tucked beneath their arms, while others hauled equipment cases nearly as large as themselves.

It felt less like a military base and more like a small city.

"Everything's kind of divided by function," Reno explained as we walked. "Training facilities are over here. Medical's across the courtyard. Maintenance is behind the garages, and administration is in the main building."

Kafka pointed toward a massive warehouse with several transport vehicles parked outside. "They're doing equipment inspections today. Not the most exciting thing in the world, but somebody's gotta make sure everything works before we're sent out."

Himari raised her camera and snapped a few photos. "I actually like this."

Kafka tilted his head. "The maintenance?"

"The fact that it isn't glamorous," she said. "People usually only see explosions."

"Oh." He smiled. "Yeah... I guess they do."

We rounded another corner where several platoons were already beginning warm-ups. The rhythmic sounds of boots hitting pavement echoed across the grounds as instructors barked commands. I scribbled a few notes into my notebook.

"'Morning conditioning begins before official drills,'" I read aloud as I wrote.

Reno nodded. "Usually."

"'Usually?'"

"Schedules change depending on patrols or alerts."

Kafka folded his arms behind his head. "Or if Vice-Captain Hoshina decides today's the day everyone needs extra sword practice."

Reno let out a quiet groan. "My shoulders still haven't forgiven him."

I smiled to myself before I could stop it. "So he teaches swordsmanship?"

"The best," Kafka answered without hesitation. "Watching him fight is..." He searched for the right word before snapping his fingers. "...kind of unbelievable."

"He makes it look effortless," Reno added. "Even when it definitely isn't."

Before I realized what I was doing, the question had already left my mouth. "Is he around today?"

Neither of them reacted to the question beyond a simple shake of the head. "Nah," Kafka said. "Vice-Captain's been gone since before sunrise."

"He had a strategy meeting with headquarters," Reno explained. "Something with multiple divisions."

"Oh." The single word slipped out more casually than I'd expected.

"He should be back sometime this evening," Kafka continued. "Assuming they don't keep him longer."

"I've heard those meetings can drag on forever," Himari said.

Kafka laughed. "From the stories we've heard? Definitely."

The conversation moved on as naturally as it had started. No one seemed to think twice about it.

Honestly... Neither did I.

There was too much happening around me to dwell on one absent vice-captain.

By the end of the tour, my notebook already had several pages of observations, Himari had nearly filled an entire memory card with photographs, and I'd begun to understand exactly what Captain Ashiro meant.

The rest of the day continued with getting to know each of the officers on a personal level. What they do on their day off. Innocently joking with them. Himari and I tried to carry one of those big body-sized bags of equipment, and it swallowed her while I was able to get it a mere inch off the ground. I was triumphant and flexed my gym muscles.

Himari seemed to be closer to Reno. Both of them had a love for the smaller moments in life.

On the first day, I had learned that the Defense Force wasn't defined by the moments they fought kaiju. It was defined by everything they did before they ever stepped onto the battlefield.

It was dinner time, and both Himari and I were invited to sit with Kikoru and Reno. Kikoru was talking to me about an article I wrote two years ago on individuals who keep Tokyo running silently, such as mail carriers, janitors, street sweepers, and the cleanup crews.

Himari and Reno were talking about why Himari was taking photos unlike normal photographers. She enjoyed taking photos of coffee mugs, the defense force officers smiling in the room, and sunlight through the windows.

"Why these pictures?" He asked, browsing through the unedited photos on her camera while she took a bite of her food.

"Anyone can photograph someone looking cool." She lifts the camera from his hands.

"I like photographing people when they forget they're being watched."

He nodded his head in subtle understanding.

A laugh erupted from the other side of the table. "You've gotta be kidding me," Iharu groaned, pointing his chopsticks accusingly at Kafka. "There is no way you can eat that much."

Kafka looked down at his tray before looking back up innocently. "...What?"

"You're on your third bowl of rice."

"It's fuel."

"It's gluttony."

"It can be both," Aoi chimed in quietly without looking up from his meal.

The table went silent.

Iharu slowly turned toward him. "...You just roasted him."

Aoi blinked. "I did?"

Kafka let out an exaggerated gasp. "I can't believe this. Betrayed by my own squad."

"You'll recover," Aoi replied calmly.

Himari covered her mouth to hide a laugh. "I didn't know he was funny."

Reno smiled faintly. "He doesn't say much."

"But when he does..." Kafka sighed dramatically. "...he aims to kill."

"I don't aim."

"You absolutely should aim..."

Iharu pointed at Aoi with the triumphant expression of someone who finally had backup.

"See? He gets me."

"No."

"...No?"

"I don't."

The table burst into laughter. Even Kikoru let out a quiet chuckle beside me.

I shook my head. "So this is what lunch is usually like?"

"This is actually calmer than normal," Reno admitted.

"No way."

Kafka nodded solemnly. "We're missing Vice-Captain."

Iharu immediately snorted. "Yeah, he'd have made fun of all of us by now."

"And somehow we'd deserve it," Kafka cried in remembrance.

Before anyone could continue, the cafeteria doors slid open.

A handful of officers entered, chatting among themselves after what looked like a long day. Their laughter echoed across the room before splitting off in different directions toward the serving line.

I barely spared them a glance.

Kikoru had just asked me another question about the article she'd read, and I turned back toward her.

"You really interviewed every single person yourself?"

"Every one of them," I answered. "Some of them thought I was joking at first."

"I don't blame them."

"They kept asking why anyone would want to hear about their jobs."

"And what did you tell them?"

"That everyone notices when they're gone."

Kikoru was quiet for a moment, "...I like that." She looked back at me, resting her chin in her hand. "So... did your editor come up with the title, or did you?"

"Actually, I did," I admitted. "He wanted something flashier, but I fought him on it."

"Really?"

"He thought readers wouldn't click on an article about street sweepers."

"And?"

I smiled. "It ended up being one of our most-read features that month."

Kikoru nodded thoughtfully. "I'm not surprised."

Kafka's expression suddenly brightened. "Vice-Captain!" Nearly everyone at the table turned toward the cafeteria entrance. I didn't. I hardly heard him.

Kikoru had another question, and I was halfway through answering it. "Did any of the people you interviewed ever read the article afterward?"

"A few of them," I said. "The mail carrier actually framed his copy."

"Seriously?"

"Mm-hm. He mailed me a picture of it a few weeks later."

The chatter around the table gradually faded. I barely noticed.

Then, a quiet laugh. Warm. Confused. Entirely familiar.

"...Well now." The laugh lingered another moment before the voice continued, carrying an unmistakable grin with it.

"Was wonderin' why the base suddenly felt a bit different today."

Something in my chest tightened. My skin started to form goosebumps as I hugged my body. That voice... I turned.

Vice-Captain Hoshina stood a few feet behind Kafka with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other still holding the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder. He looked like he'd just gotten back, tie loosened from a long day of meetings.

He wasn't looking at anyone else. He was looking at me. His eyebrows were raised in genuine disbelief, like he was trying to solve a puzzle that had suddenly solved itself.

Another quiet laugh escaped him as he shook his head. "Didn't think I'd find ya sittin' with my division."

My mouth parted slightly. "...Hi."

His grin spread even wider. "Didn't realize ya were on the guest list."