Work Text:
It was early.
Too early for a meeting, but not so early that the strategy room was already occupied by Okonogi, reviewing data in front of a lit screen.
The cold lights barely illuminated his serious face. His fingers moved precisely over the keyboard.
Hoshina watched her from the hallway, leaning against the doorframe, saying nothing. Just looking at her.
She noticed. She knew it from the reflection in the glass. But she didn't turn around.
When he finally entered, he did so silently, walking close, letting the tension hang for a second.
"If you look at me like that every morning," he said softly, almost murmuring against her ear, "I'll give up fighting just to stay by your side."
The sentence fell softly, like a feather... or like a trap.
Okonogi stopped.
She stopped typing.
She breathed.
And without turning to look at him, he replied coldly:
"Deputy Captain, it's not funny."
His tone was dry. Like a clean cut.
He put away the file he was reviewing and stood up, leaving with a firm stride. His expression, closed.
Hoshina stood alone in the hallway.
Silent.
For a few seconds, he didn't move.
He just lowered his eyes to the floor.
"...I wasn't fucking joking."
He slumped against the concrete wall.
He leaned forward and, without any real strength, gently hit his forehead against the wall. Once, twice, three times.
"I'm an idiot. An idiot with swords who can't speak."
Again.
"Why did I say that like that? Who starts with 'I'm going to stop fighting'? What am I, a soap opera character?"
Struck.
—“And of course, just when I'm serious, he takes it as a joke!”
From the end of the hallway, footsteps were heard.
Kafka appeared, a glass of coffee in his hand, frowning.
—“Are you… okay?”
Hoshina slowly straightened, serious.
—“I'm training my romanticism muscle.”
Kafka looked at him as if he'd heard a foreign language.
—“With your head?”
—“Yes.”
—“And how's the progress?”
—“Total failure.”
Kafka sighed. He took a sip of his coffee.
—“Did you try to flirt with Okonogi again?”
—“No. This time I told him something real.”
—“So?”
—“He believed me less than when I said I could cut down a kaiju blindfolded in five seconds.”
Kafka nodded slowly.
"Technically... you did it."
"That's not the point!"
Silence.
Kafka crossed his arms, thoughtful.
"So what are you going to do now?"
Hoshina turned toward the empty hallway she'd left through.
His expression changed slightly.
Less defeated.
More... focused.
"I'm going to find a way to make him believe me. And when I do... he'll have no doubts."
Kafka looked at him silently.
"So that means stopping punching walls?"
"Eventually."