Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The Vice Captain sighs as he turns the knob to his home for the next week. Small and confining between four walls, unimpressive compared to his own quarters in Tachikawa, but he’ll have to make do.

Vice Captain—fairly crucial title here. One step below everyone else here, several above all the rest who stay on base. Hoshina isn’t used to ranking at the bottom, and it’s doubtful that he ever has, but here it borders on impressive and pitiful, a little pathetic, depending on who’s asked.

Hoshina doesn’t want to be here, and he’s repeated it over and over in his head, but never lets it slip. His smile is just as fabricated as the tone of his voice was when he accepted the opportunity, as if he didn’t have a choice in the end.

Humans are often too willing to comply. Vice Captain Hoshina is no exception.

The man on the other side of the door, however, is an exception to that observation. Captain Narumi of the First Division, immediately recognizable by the incessant grousing he must get paid for, but at least it’s gotten him this far. 

“Who was the idiot in charge of room assignments?” Narumi asks. “Surely they have a brain that works, so where was it when they placed me here?”

“You should speak with more respect for those who made those arrangements for you, Narumi.”

Ten searches Hoshina’s memories to find the man the Captain’s speaking with. Vice Captain Hasegawa, who essentially acts as Captain Narumi’s father. Hoshina seems to like him quite well—Hasegawa, not Narumi. Though the ladder may be in the essence of dishonestly, since it’s difficult to hide much from Ten.

That’s the thing about this connection, arrangement, alliance, whatever the formality is. All other users of kaiju weapons have it easy, whether they believe so or not. They train, they test compatibility, they train some more. They use the remnants of slain kaiju and weaponize whatever attributes they can use to their advantage, because all traces of the species must be wiped out unless it’s convenient to help them do that. Consciousness is not convenient, therefore never part of their weapons approach. 

Ten, however, never lost his. And Hoshina just so happens to be the unlucky one, stuck with a kaiju who still has a mind of his own, intertwined only to use his strength.

So more often than not, Ten prods his thoughts, just because he can. He knows the Vice Captain on a molecular level, as if he’s actually become one with him. Like he can interpret the Vice Captain’s thoughts without any differentiation between the two.

Hoshina hates it.

“You had this room to yourself first,” Hasegawa continues. “Since you're so difficult to room with. Vice Captain Hoshina was a last-minute addition, so he had to be placed somewhere. This was the only option.”

“Only option,” Hoshina sighs to himself. Could’ve left me in Tachikawa.

Oh it’s not too bad, Ten says, but only audible to Hoshina. Lingering in the back of his mind, like he usually does. Only ever heard out loud when he has the suit on, which makes him look like a cheap cosplayer compared to Ten’s true form. It could be good for you.

“Since when have you been concerned with what’s good for me?” Hoshina asks, keeping his voice down, as he usually does. Ten is not above yelling at the back of his mind—Hoshina, on the other hand, hardly ever takes that approach. Something about being the bigger person. Stupid, because Ten is not a person at all.

Since I’m stuck with you for the foreseeable future, and I’m not in the position to die yet, Ten says.

“Hah, fair enough,” Hoshina says, scanning the room. Everything he sees through his own eyes, Ten sees too. Everything he touches, everything he feels, Ten can sense, like Hoshina’s become an extension of the body that’s been stripped away from him. Amplified when he puts the suit on. Maybe that’s why he hardly likes wearing it, too much control left for a kaiju that may or may not try to seize him. Smart man.

There’s one bed below him, one in this single room. Most of which here are doubles, or rooms lined with bunks that Hoshina assumes might resemble the barracks they stayed in as officers. A bunk to share, or two twin beds on opposite sides of the room if they’re lucky.

Hoshina takes a longer look than necessary. There’s not much to focus on—basic sheets on a mattress large enough for two.

Narumi groans from the hallway, half-pained, mostly annoyed, like a child when they don’t get their way. Some humans don’t grow out of that trait it seems. “Isn’t there something you can do? I’ll room with anyone else. Stick another bed in here if you have to. I’ll settle for a mat on the floor.”

Hoshina scoffs. The Vice Captain isn’t willing to settle that low. An image of Hoshina tucked into a thin mat on the ground as Narumi slumbers above him, comfortably on the mattress crosses his mind. Absolutely not.

“Or you can suck it up for a week because you’re a Captain and your priorities far outweigh a little inconvenience,” Hasegawa says. “All the rooms are already assigned and this is quite literally the only opening. If anyone, Vice Captain Hoshina deserves some kind of compensation since he couldn’t be accommodated better.”

“Him? What about me?” Narumi sounds like he’s fuming. Hoshina doesn’t show it much, but Ten can feel the gentle spike in his heart rate, how even if he doesn’t want to be here, he can silently revel in the amusement.

“You owe me for the patience I’m granting you, at the very least,” Hasegawa tells him. “For your idiotic demands. For that, I wouldn’t help you even if I wanted to. It’s not ideal, but you’ll live.”

Not ideal. Correct. If Hoshina had the choice, he wouldn’t room with Narumi, for a few different reasons that he doesn’t ponder for too long. Another human behavior Ten doesn’t quite understand, how people try so hard to avoid the things they don’t want to think about, how quick they are to shove those thoughts to the back of their minds and place others in front of them. But there, in the shadows, they’re exposed to Ten, who can’t seem to get away from any of them. He knows more than he wants to, more than he cares to, but it’s sufficient entertainment. Especially when the First Division is involved.

Where there’s reluctance, there’s also relief. This is a training for Captains, and if there’s anything to be grateful for, it’s that Hoshina wasn’t assigned with his brother. In that case, surely Hoshina would have found a way to refuse his attendance, even at the price of his honor as a Vice Captain. Heavy sacrifice, but it’s hard to tell if he’s serious.

Hasegawa continues with a sigh, dropping the harsh tone. Fatherly, as expected. “It’s more trouble than it’s worth to try to get you a different arrangement for the week. And besides, you hardly spend time in your actual room back in Ariake. You’re always holed up in the office you’ve converted into a dungeon for all your stupid games, which is out of compliance, by the way.”

Hoshina chuckles to himself, but Narumi hardly finds it funny. But he isn’t one to back down easily, as Ten learned during their first encounter. Apparently it’s not just with Hoshina, but everyone else. His seniors, even if he outranks them. Clearly it’s something else that sets Hoshina aside from the rest.

“What I do in my office is my business, and neither of those things are here with me, are they?” Narumi challenges. 

Hasegawa sounds like he turns on his heels. “I’m done here. You’ll be fine, Narumi. I’ll see you in a week,” he says as his footsteps get further away. “Dropping you off was enough of a hassle, don’t ask me to pick you up.”

Narumi groans and reaches for the door, swearing under his breath. “I didn’t ask for you to drop me off, old man. Always on my ass.” He scans his key and turns the knob. “I’m a god-damned Captain, aren’t I?”

This will be fun, Ten says, and Hoshina shakes his head in response. 

The door slowly opens and Narumi takes a heavy step inside, his eyes immediately meeting Hoshina’s. A gaze that doesn’t exactly look like hatred, even if the Captain tries to make it look like that. But he does stand there for a moment, deeply annoyed, like this will be anything but fun for him. Hoshina half-expects him to start cursing at him, to let the blood run to his head and set himself off like a firecracker.

But instead he grits his teeth and shuts the door behind him, like he’s just lost a battle. Defeat looks a little pathetic on the Captain. “I call the side of the bed closest to the door,” is all he says.

••••

A full week of training, Monday through Sunday, but eight nights. Eight painfully close, suffocating nights. The first is almost everything Hoshina expected it to be. 

Narumi stays confined to the edge of the bed, much to Hoshina’s surprise. The Vice Captain isn’t sure he even slept, but when he wakes up, he finds Narumi in the exact same position, a slow, steady rise and fall of his shoulders. There’s enough room between them for another person, each man as close to their respective edge as they can be.

How considerate of you to leave room for me, Ten teases.

All he’s met with is a grumbled what the hell from a sleepy Vice Captain.

Hoshina is a fairly uniform sleeper. He doesn’t toss and turn much, and usually stays in the same position. Remaining on his edge didn’t pose much of a challenge at all. Apparently Narumi is the same, and not the sprawled out cat-like sleeper who acts like the world is his bed that Hoshina had expected.

The image flashes across his thoughts, and Hoshina doesn’t shove it away so quickly this time. He envisions the Captain peacefully asleep, his limbs stretched across the mattress, his hair atrociously disheveled.

He only allows himself to think about it for a few moments before he quietly steps out of bed, hushed footsteps bringing him across the room to step out. As he does, Narumi lies as still as he’s been, eyes shut, his shoulders still rising and falling in an even rhythm. Hoshina’s not sure if he’s still asleep or faking it until he leaves, hell, neither is Ten, but once Hoshina returns, Narumi has already left for the morning.

The early bird gets the…

“Worm,” Hoshina says dryly.

Rude.

“That’s the rest of the phrase. The early bird gets the worm. I’d never disrespect worms by lumping them in with the likes of you,” he says, and every part of him means it. As teasing as he is, as much fun as he likes to poke at others, the resentment Hoshina holds for Ten is hardly ever concealed. Allies they may be, or forced to be, at the end of the day they’re on different sides of all of this.

Still, he humors Ten sometimes. Responds to him, if only to keep himself sane, so he doesn’t feel like a foreign voice in his head runs rampant without his own control. 

The resentment isn’t exactly mutual. On a certain level, yes. Hoshina is human, after all. But Ten would rather be linked to him for the rest of his foreseeable life than dead, so here he is. Weaponize him if he must, at least Ten can still fight while he can. Give the rest of what he has here a little… amusement. Some action.

Action, unlike the events of today’s training sessions, which turn out exactly the way Hoshina expected them, since he reviewed the week’s itinerary in detail. Several times. There’s only so much he can do to keep his mind off the obvious when he’s holed up in a room with Narumi, and nothing he can do to stop those thoughts from flooding right to Ten.

You should say something to break the ice or something.

“I’m surprised you know what that means,” Hoshina mutters under his breath as he finds his way to his seat for a leadership seminar. Always so insistent on responding out loud, even in a whisper.

I’m not human but I’m also not stupid, Vice Captain. I’d say I’m more intelligent than my counterparts.

“Stupid enough to get captured.”

Had a tough opponent. Too bad we can’t go head to head again.

“Yeah, that’s too bad. Maybe I’d kill him next time,” he says in a voice below a whisper as he takes his seat next to Captain Ashiro.

Likewise.

Resentment aside, Ten does keep Hoshina somewhat occupied, and he’s minimally grateful for it until the comments disrupt his focus more than his own thoughts. This is boring and why are we here and let’s go to the training rooms. Where did we leave your suit? 

Oh, he hates this. Hoshina can’t find it in himself to do this for another week, for another seven nights, but there’s no backing out now.

It’s not the seminars or the trainings or even the team-building he has later in the week. Not the need to go back to the Third Division, to ensure they’re left in good hands while Captain Ashiro is away—it’s not even Ten. It’s Narumi. 

Hoshina can’t get through a single session without his mind, not even wandering, but completely absorbed by him.

This is somewhat of an obsession, wouldn’t you say?

“It’s not.”

Ten begs to differ.

If not for any other reason, Hoshina can’t keep himself from thinking about how much he’d like to avoid another encounter with the Captain, although it’s inevitable. Just having him so close gets under his skin, and not in the usual sense. Not because the Captain tries, or starts something he can’t finish, or loses function after Hoshina outwits him.

Narumi doesn’t try at all. He hasn’t since he stepped foot into their room, and hasn’t said a word to him aside from a single sentence.

By chance, when they see each other while their divisions meet for something—trainings, meetings, anything really, Hoshina is safe to expect a snarky comment to ignite some rivalry-typical banter or a lighthearted argument that Narumi usually takes too far, and Hoshina usually comes out on top. 

But Narumi genuinely seems like he doesn’t want to be around him, which is typical, yes, but not to this extent. His approach is always so brash, like he’s a brute that’s never been civilized, not silent.

Hoshina hardly wants to be around him either. It’s not like they’re friends, though these humans, Ten must say, are outwardly ridiculous and overly prideful. Never on the right foot, and yes, he knows what that means too. 

Ten has seen it play out in Hoshina’s mind dozens of times. An officer approached by a Captain and asked to join his division. A rejection, some resentment, and a long history of whatever this feeling Ten can’t decipher is.

If Hoshina had made a different choice, it could have been avoided. But he doesn’t regret his decision, and never has, and that’s the story he sticks to. Even if, somewhere deep down, Ten can feel a singe that feels just similar enough to it.

But the decision is still the reason he’s here today, looking at an information pamphlet made specifically for Captains, with his own Captain by his side.

••••

The second night isn’t much different than the first. Narumi still doesn’t utter a word, hardly looking in Hoshina’s direction at all. He still sleeps on the very edge of the bed, rigid and too stiff for comfort.

He’s asleep, Ten says. Hoshina snaps his eyes open, not startled but definitely unsettled. Not the voice he’d choose to hear in the middle of the night.

“I can see that,” Hoshina mutters.

Not when you’re turned around like that.

He shuts his eyes again, taking a deep breath, hoping it’ll settle him enough to relax. But Ten can see how he wishes Narumi were lying awake like he is. He can hear Hoshina tell himself to go to sleep instead.

Sometimes, Ten has to go make things worse. Just because he can. Just because he knows.

And he dreamt of you.

The spike in Hoshina’s pulse is worth the creative string of curses hauled at him in his thoughts.

••••

Day two’s training doesn’t make Hoshina feel so out of place, like he stands out for the right reason in a sea of Captains.

As much as Hoshina seems to hate Ten, Ten pushes him far past his potential and that is the only reason Ten plans to be around for a while. Combat training is his forte on this week’s itinerary, where Hoshina gets to shine and be a star with one of the Numbers Weapons. Ten can give him the credit so long as Hoshina puts the suit on and lets him fight alongside him.

It sounds a lot more like camaraderie than it actually is. Ten just likes a good fight.

Ten loves the suit—what feels like free reign to move unlike the inner walls of Hoshina’s mind. Hoshina, on the other hand, feels like an overdone hero straight out of a western film after he activates it. If only the suit didn’t feel so theatrical, but it’s functional. Perhaps besides the tail, which took some adjustment.

All eyes are on him when he spars with some of the Captains, with Ten in his arsenal. Hoshina is inspected like livestock, like they’re trying to make a deal of some sort. They all watch him as Hoshina feels the monster’s claws pierce through his mind with no shields to protect his own thoughts as they infiltrate him.

Feeling the pressure, Vice Captain? Ten asks him. 

He shakes it off, although Ten knows Hoshina’s aware of all the stares coming his way. He knows part of their watching him means they’re waiting for him to screw something up, for a reason for him to be so much different than all of them. Why a Vice Captain doesn’t fit here with the rest.

No one but Ten would ever know. Hoshina is a master of putting on a mask for others, a brave face even when he’s shrunk twice in size below someone else. 

Humans are meek creatures, kaiju are not. As strong as some of them are, like Hoshina, bravery will only get them so far, and usually at their core they are small and malleable and easily broken down. They’re excellent actors though.

You and I are stronger than most of these Captains. You should be proud of that, stupid human. The nicest thing Ten’s ever said to him. Or throw your strength in their faces. Either works for me.

Do any of your kaiju buddies find ways to torment the Defense Force like you do me? Hoshina asks, silent this time, confined to his conscience. Ten can feel the wince Hoshina does, but it’s better than looking like he’s talking to himself while sparring with an opponent.

Nope. Just Ten, for now. But Hoshina doesn’t have to know that. Let’s just say you’re lucky to be stuck with me.

When the combat training ends, they get a break before all Captains must meet to discuss their rosters with the other divisions. Brief, but long enough to step out of the suit and freshen up. As soon as Hoshina takes it off, Ten will long for the feeling of working limbs again. Ones in his control, and not just ones he could seize for himself if the Vice Captain let his guard drop.

There’s eyes on him as Hoshina steps into the hall. A shudder travels down his spine, like knowing he’s being watched before he sees them. Hoshina knows before he even has the chance to look, like he’s taken a chance on his intuition and it was right.

Narumi stands and watches from a distance, his eyes glowing pink from across the room.

A thought hidden behind a set of walls Ten had never noticed. So the Vice Captain can hide thoughts from him after all, if they’re buried deep enough. But now he knows exactly where they reside—quite unfortunate for Hoshina.

Ten knows these eyes, where they came from. Kaiju no. 1–he’s seen them in action both out of confinement and through Narumi’s fighting techniques. However, he’s never quite seen this.

He’s looked at you with those eyes before, Ten tells Hoshina, playing back the memory. A Captain with a request. A rejection. The resentment. Back before Hoshina knew what these eyes are, and what they might be.

Ten chuckles to himself. Ominous, deeper than Hoshina’s own monologue. Ten doesn’t have to say it for Hoshina to know what he saw.

Lucky to be stuck with him was a blatant lie.

Once the second day’s events have passed, dinner’s been served, and Hoshina has the rest of the night to get settled and ready for the next day, he spends more time in the bathhouse than needed. It’s late, and most Captains have slipped out back to their rooms to turn in, but Hoshina stays, submerged past his shoulders in the hot water, only getting out once he becomes lightheaded.

He gets dressed slowly, meticulously folding his towels to place them neatly for the cleaning crew in the morning.

You’re stalling , Ten tells him.

“Way to point out the obvious,” Hoshina says, normally this time, as there’s no one he has to hide from here.

Staying up so late goes against the guidance he gives his own squad members, how rest is also a dire part of training. Hoshina’s always been held a step above the rest, both by himself and everyone else—himself because of everyone else. Sometimes he can’t take his own advice.

When Hoshina finally slips into the room, the lights are off and Narumi is glued to his edge of the mattress. Quietly, he steps around him, putting his stuff away slowly and careful not to wake the Captain. Although, Hoshina’s not too sure why he even feels like he owes him the courtesy.

“You don’t have to try and sneak around for my sake,” Narumi says, his voice low, but not sleepy. No rasp or forced words. “I’m awake.”

If only he had been.

“So he speaks,” Hoshina says. He should give Narumi some credit for holding out for this long. Two days and two nights he had gone completely silent, all but one sentence. Impressive that he didn’t crack until now.

Narumi scoffs in response, and perhaps it’ll just end there.

Or not. Maybe Ten has gotten the hang of this human connection thing, or maybe it’s easy to tell Narumi has something else to say because somehow Hoshina knows. He can’t wrap his mind around humans understanding another human’s feelings or thoughts without explicitly stating them, or without telepathy. Humans aren’t that advanced, so it’s a bit beyond him, how they just seem to know sometimes.

It’s easier as a kaiju. Ten knows because Narumi’s thoughts are blaringly loud.

Hoshina crawls into his side of the bed, cold and burying himself under the sheets. The air between them is heavy, like the gravity’s just increased. The silence is suffocating, and Hoshina knows he’s partly at fault for it. He could break the ice, say something like Ten suggested. For once, maybe Ten suggested something useful.

It might not even be worth the attempt. Hoshina knows why Narumi is so cold this time around, not that he’s ever welcoming, but Hoshina can work around him. He can take his crudeness and use it against him to rile him up, he can be Narumi’s opponent in a battle of wits.

Hoshina can flaunt how he outperforms him in different battle types, get under Narumi’s skin just because he can. But this is the one area Narumi comes out on top, ranks don’t lie. In a training week for Captains, Narumi knows he’s the strongest. But here Hoshina is, a Vice Captain among them, reminding Narumi someone who ranks beneath him is not too far behind.

For a moment, Hoshina thinks it might be better to come out with it and tell Narumi he agrees with him. How it’s bullshit that he ended up here, and that he shouldn’t be among the rest right now. That Narumi can win this one, and he’ll give it up willingly. 

“Are you going out with everyone tomorrow night?” Narumi asks. There it is. Hoshina knew there was something else, even if he wasn’t sure what.

That’s right. Everyone has made the plan to gather after the day’s events—get drinks, hang out in their free time. It’s not often that all the Captains can get together, so why not now, since they’re all here. All the long-time colleagues, and rivalries aside, they all understand the responsibilities each of them shoulder. They relate to each other more than most people in the Defense Force. It must be nice to be on equal footing.

Hoshina takes his time answering, even though he’d already made his choice the moment he heard about it.

“No, I won’t be there,” he finally says, facing the wall beside him. There’s not much to look at, just a void.

Narumi clicks his tongue behind his teeth, dissatisfied. He’s starting to feel more like himself, like the side of Narumi that Hoshina has gotten to know throughout the years. “What could you possibly be doing that’s any better?”

“I’ll be here.”

“Holed up in a prison?”

“I just don’t want to go.” And it’s true, Hoshina doesn’t want to be there. For a few reasons—Soichiro, for one. The rest start and end with Captain Narumi. Although that may also pose a reason to go if Hoshina could admit it to himself.

“Why?” Narumi presses. He’s good at this, pushing until he gets an answer he’s satisfied with. But Hoshina is even better at withholding it.

“Why do you need an answer? I just don’t want to go.”

“Captains night out. They invited you.”

He’s inviting you.

Like that means anything. “I’m not a Captain,” Hoshina says, and that’s that. It’s the only reason he needs. Captains training, Captains night out, reserved just for Captains which he is not.

Narumi is quiet for a moment, sighing as he pulls the covers over himself, slightly away from Hoshina. The sheets are thinner than what he has back home, but the heat between them is enough to get Hoshina to consider kicking the sheets off entirely, so he can’t feel just how close Narumi’s skin is to his, how warm his body would be if he weren’t so far.

Hoshina shakes the thought quickly. How useless it is to think of the Captain in that way, when he makes it abundantly clear the sentiment isn’t shared.

“Not a Captain,” Narumi repeats to himself. “You must be really dumb to not realize they already consider you one.”

He doesn’t say anything else before Hoshina presumes he falls asleep, or maybe Narumi’s awake on the other side of the bed, staring off at the opposite wall, nothing but darkness in front of him. No point in having his eyes open at all, just like Hoshina, staring into nothing. Maybe his eyes are fixed on the light peeking through the room’s threshold instead.

Both of you are terrible at this, Tens says. But for a moment, Hoshina’s convinced the voice in his head was his own this time.

••••

By the time Hoshina wakes up, Narumi is already gone. It’s a good thing, really. A peaceful morning for the most part. If Hoshina must wake up thinking about the Captain, at least he doesn’t have to see him too.

The day’s events drag on for the most part—breakfast, a guest speaker, and a workshop for stress management. Better in theory than in practice. If you can’t manage the stress that comes with the job, the Defense Force isn’t for you, but understandably, they at least offer it since the stress of the job involves laying lives on the line every day. The pressure doesn’t eat away at Hoshina as much as some of the others.

Humans are so consumed with what’s right and wrong, constantly striving towards what’s right even if it’s not in their own interest. The entire Defense Force is built on that same type of nonsense that Ten can’t wrap his thoughts around—to put everyone else before oneself without question. For the greater good, whatever that greater good may be. Life is better lived selfishly.

It’s not a shared opinion, especially in a room full of Captains.

One Vice Captain, Hoshina feels the need to add.

After half a day of complete bullshit, which is anything that doesn’t pertain to fighting, according to Ten, Hoshina arrives for their daily combat training fully suited and prepared for all eyes to stay glued to him again.

Maybe not all eyes, nothing prepares him for a flash of fluorescence in the corner of his vision and the monster in his head cackling in his thoughts.

You’ll never guess what he’s thinking of, Ten tells him.

Hoshina hopes it’s the stupid game console Narumi complained about leaving behind, or a new update he can’t enjoy because he’s stuck here. How he’ll stay holed up in his office-turned-dungeon, in Hasegawa’s words, when he returns to the First Division. 

And I’m sure he’s clueless that you’re thinking about him too, Ten adds, and Hoshina can feel him roll his eyes. Theoretical eyes? Metaphorical eyes? How does one roll their eyes when there is no physique? 

The same way Hoshina sees Ten’s smile creep up in his mind, all fangs.

“You should stop making baseless assumptions. I’m sure he’s occupied with something else,” Hoshina tells Ten, wishing a firm beating to his suit would spare him the damage and solely focus on Ten. Too bad they’re nearly symbiotic once that suit is on.

They’re not baseless. You have your… connection to him, meaning I now have that same connection to him. Must I explain this?

“Humor me.”

I feel everything you feel. I can also feel the kaiju that lays dormant in him from the use of his weapon. He should be very careful with that, by the way.

“I’m sure he knows.”

No, I don’t think he does. No matter. Sometimes I can feel him in the same way I feel you.

“That’s horribly uncomfortable,” Hoshina says, shaking his head. It’s bad enough Ten can hear his thoughts at all times, worse that he feels the need to comment on them all the time. Exponentially worse that he might be able to pry where he’s not supposed to, how no one is safe if rogue kaiju have these types of abilities. “If you can’t stay out of his thoughts, the least you can do is keep them from me. Seriously, it’s weird. People don’t do that.”

Can you blame me? I need a means of entertainment, especially being confined to you, Ten says. And I’m not a person, so who am I to be an expert on human behavior?

“Stay out of his thoughts.” Persistent.

Protective of the Captain now?

Hoshina sighs. Maybe? In a way? Perhaps he’s always been? “I just don’t want to know. That’s all.”

Honestly is a virtue, Vice Captain.

Hoshina does his best to pretend that’s not true.

Today, combat training requires them to split up into pairs to measure the compatibility of their fighting styles. More or less, the incompatibility and how they can fix that before they’re met with it on a battlefield. Precautions before they become fatal.

Hoshina’s eyes scan the room for Captain Ashiro. They work flawlessly together and have coordinated both their offense and defensive strategies to perfection, but she seems to have found a partner already.

Makes sense, Hoshina thinks to himself, not letting the disappointment seep through. She already knows how well she works with Hoshina; she specifically called for him to be her second in command, after all. She believes in him, always has.

She thinks I can be a Captain, and she must have too much faith in him.

“How about you join me?” A voice asks. “Like old times.”

Old times. The voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard in the back of Hoshina’s mind. Worse than Ten, but he gets a kick out of it, snickering to himself as Hoshina feels the heat rise to his head. Level-headed as he is, the irritation is still there. Masked, but there.

Soichiro stands there like an idiot, smiling and waiting for his brother to accept his offer. A smug, fox-like smile that seems to be hereditary, and Hoshina hates the resemblance. He has a lot of gall to even ask such a thing, to act like Hoshina would want to reminisce on old times.

But most people have already paired up, and the Vice Captain might be out of options.

“It’s been a while, Soshiro,” Soichiro continues. His smile is genuine, like he’s never done anything wrong, like he’s completely unaware of what he’s drilled into his younger brother. Complete lack of self-awareness and it does more than get under Hoshina’s skin.

We can kill him, if that’s what you want.

No.

What a shame.

At the very least, he wasn’t forced to room with Soichiro, but Hoshina was hoping the little luck he had would have lasted the entirety of the week.

“He’s mine,” he hears Narumi say beside him, clicking his tongue and placing a hand on Hoshina’s shoulder.

It makes him jolt slightly, like the Captain’s sent a bolt through his spine. Narumi. 

He was watching, Ten says, keeping his words confined to Hoshina’s head and not projected from the suit. Though, if he wanted to make things interesting, he could have done so.

“Priority of the First Division,” Narumi continues. “So what I say goes. Get lost.”

“Surely that’s not how it works,” Soichiro says.

Hoshina isn’t sure why Soichiro is even trying. There’s no use—Narumi is far too stubborn, and Hoshina would rather leave than do anything with his older brother.

“I wouldn’t expect someone from the Sixth Division to understand matters of the First,” Narumi says.

Oh, he definitely believes in the exaggerated hierarchy he made up for the divisions. Even if the First Division is regarded as the strongest, simply because he is, that doesn’t place the Sixth quite so low. Hoshina shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s mine, so now Hoshina must be associated with such idiocy.

Seems like you don’t mind it much , Ten says.

Hoshina ignores him.

His older brother is stupid, but not completely clueless. Soichiro gives in and leaves, usually one to back away before the fight becomes too vicious. Always one to start something he can’t finish, someone who deals a blow but doesn’t stay to tend to the wound.

Hoshina won’t think about it too deeply. He didn’t get to say a word to him, but maybe it’s better that way. It’s not like he had much to say.

“Can’t stand that guy,” Narumi says, and Hoshina supposes that makes two of them. “Just looking at him pisses me off.”

Your brother—

“Shut it,” Hoshina says out loud. He doesn’t want to hear another word about him.

Narumi snaps his head to look at him. “What was that?”

Words that should have stayed within his thoughts. Hoshina throws his hands up in defeat. “Stupid voice inside my head. Let’s just get going.”

Rude.

He ignores that one too.

The training grounds resemble the Third Division, much to Hoshina’s comfort. At least he can be in his own element if he must feel so out of place here. Today’s training simulates a raid, similar to the one they use in the Defense Force entrance exams sometimes, but amplified to meet the skill sets of their Captains.

Narumi fights like it’s second nature, like he’s been doing this his whole life. If Hoshina must choose a weapon, it might just be him.

Ten takes offense to it.

This is what it looks like to be at a Captain’s level. Hoshina’s seen it in Captain Ashiro, but Narumi surpasses even her. Although he tends to beat Narumi in most things, things he likes to tease him about, stuff he never lets him forget, what really matters is on the battlefield. No number of records will hold significance in a real battle if Hoshina can’t produce the kind of results Narumi can, and Hoshina knows he can’t amount to that. 

With Ten, maybe. Half the time Hoshina tries not to lose his mind and keep a sense of control, but no one would ever know. Perhaps no one else truly understands what it’s like to have a monster, quite literally, breach their thoughts and threaten to overtake them. Ten’s come around some—he’s been tamed, if you will. For the most part. But still, there’s the primal instinct, that even he will admit, that seeks the control Hoshina withholds from him.

That said, if the monster were to cooperate when Hoshina needs him to, properly, and without trying to torment him in the process, maybe things would be different.

Regardless, Hoshina keeps up. Now, keeping up is much different than surpassing, and Hoshina can never wish to surpass Narumi unless he were to find himself lost in delusion. He’ll never admit it to his face. Hell, he’d rather lie straight to it instead, but he’s the strongest for a reason.

Captain of the First Division, if the First Division actually means anything like Narumi swears it does in his imagined hierarchy. Welder of Weapon no. 1, eyes that see all. Even his personal weapon outshines Hoshina’s, one Narumi usually can’t use during training sessions due to the sheer monstrosity of it, but today it’s permitted. A bayonet vs. twin blades—the battle is easily won, and Hoshina will never come out on top if it comes down to it.

Hoshina trips on his own tail. He hates that part of his uniform, a stupid addition to the suit, completely inconvenient in combat. He catches himself, just barely off-balance, which is what usually happens. Hoshina is coordinated enough to work around it, but still, an extra limb is only expected to pose an obstacle here and there.

Focusing is ideal here, Vice Captain.

To which Hoshina realizes he hasn’t grown clumsy, but Ten did it on purpose.

“Stupid bastard,” Hoshina mutters. 

“Something you want to say, Bowl Cut?” Narumi asks, cutting down a kaiju so pitiful he could have done it with his eyes closed.

“Nope.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Ten is uncharacteristically compliant today, and to Hoshina’s surprise, he has a point. Focusing is ideal here, and he shouldn’t let his mind wander so far in the middle of combat training. That isn’t to say he’s not performing—he certainly is, but Captain Narumi, for the lack of a better word, poses more of a distraction than Hoshina can admit.

But Ten moves as Hoshina wills him to, even subconsciously, when Hoshina’s thoughts are occupied— stupidly occupied— Ten would add, by another. He strikes down opponents without opposition, simply for the thrill of it. Most of the time, Hoshina assumes Ten’s pushback is to spite him, which yes, sometimes it can be. That he’s sure of because Ten insists on using the Vice Captain’s body as his own rather than the other way around, that primal instinct for control. A constant battle that Hoshina is hellbent on winning, one that’s seemed to have collided with the one within his own head.

“Your movements are much swifter with the Numbers Weapon,” Narumi tells him.

Hoshina has to do a double take to make sure the Captain isn’t bleeding out and on the edge of death, but he’s unscathed and genuine. He hardly looks at him, and acts like it was a natural thing he’d say to a friend. Like it wasn’t Hoshina he’s talking to.

“Is that meant to be praise?” Hoshina asks, his voice tinged with sarcasm as he slashes down another enemy.

“Just take the compliment.”

“It’s unnatural coming from you.”

“Then I’ll take it back.”

Narumi is incredibly skilled, the best bayonet wielder Hoshina can think of, the only wielder he can think of. He can admit that much. But he is terribly incompetent socially. Hoshina’s not sure how much more he can take. The Captain is finally talking to him. He claimed him as a partner on this battlefield, even praised him for hell’s sake, and still seems like he wants nothing to do with him.

And Hoshina can’t figure out why it gets under his skin more than Narumi ever does when he actually tries.

“Fine, thanks,” Hoshina says. “Weapon No. 10’s strength surely rivals No. 1’s then, should we put it to the test?”

Rivalry, competition, a chance for Narumi to land on top. That should do it.

But the Captain seethes instead. If Hoshina looks close enough, he can almost see a vein popping out from his temple.

Never mind then.

“Shut up. It pisses me off that you wasted that power on another division when you could’ve joined the First instead.”

There it is.

Hoshina leaves it at that, not that he would know what to say anyway. He takes down another small kaiju without any rebuttal from Ten. Sometimes the monster doesn’t mind doing his job.

So Narumi is still there when Hoshina has long moved on. A passing moment, rejection, but it wasn’t meant to hold so much weight all those years ago, not enough to be felt now.

Hoshina still doesn't regret it.

He’s yours, if you’ll have him.

He takes a long look at the Captain, wiping the sweat from his brow and mounting his bayonet beside him. His eyes flow pink in combat, his hair pushed back and out of his face. Later, Hoshina will have to yet again, explain why Ten can’t pry in another’s mind, connected for whatever reason or not.

Not like Ten will pay much mind to it anyway.

But oh how he hates to admit that if what Ten says is true, and he’s not just screwing with him to keep himself entertained or meddle in Hoshina’s life that he so desperately wants to seize for himself, that it might be mutual.

••••

Hoshina will do just about anything to distract himself from the day’s revelation. He fiddles on his phone, to no avail since it’s so late and he has no one to text at this hour—not that he usually does. Not much of a texter at all, really, and he hates social media, so he spends his time opening and closing apps like that will do anything at all, and scrolling through pointless internet searches. Maybe he could read an ebook, but it’ll put him to sleep, though it’s not a bad idea considering he needs to be up fairly early in the morning.

Usually, he occupies his time training or with paperwork that must be done for the division. Not a second is wasted, and even on days off he fills the time with errands or events. Silence is golden, and he savors the time he has it, but not when boredom accompanies it.

He even considers other means of entertainment. Might be beneficial for anything he has pent up, and it’s been a while.

Sounds thrilling, Tens says, so Hoshina vetoes the thought.

He could sleep instead, probably should for the matter. 

His phone rings, to which he realizes it hasn’t all week. A good thing really, since no news is good news, and the Third Division has held up just fine in their absence, though if anything were to happen then Captain Ashiro is the first line of contact. 

The number is unknown, so he silences it. Must have dialed wrong.

But it rings again, which could mean one of two things: one, his officers are up to no good or two, it’s someone he has no desire to speak to.

He shuts the second option out. After what happened with Soichiro earlier, he wouldn’t be surprised if his brother were to reach out and try to talk it out. Not that it was much of a big deal, it wasn’t. Hoshina won’t pay much mind to it at all, but Soichiro has a convoluted way of approaching the relationship he severed on his own, trying to piece it back together as if shards of glass could ever be rebonded quite the same. In that case, Hoshina will let it ring.

It continues, and he can’t say he’d be surprised, by any means, if his officers were to call him while he’s away to strike up some fun. Now who exactly is the question.

Kaguragi is out of the question immediately—too serious. Nothing this child-like about him.

Izumo? Level-headed, but could succumb to peer pressure if he had some reason to rationalize it. Still, among them all, Hoshina would bet quite low on him.

Ichikawa, a wild card. Alone, he’d never think of it, but with the friends he’s made in the Third Division, Hoshina wouldn’t put it past him. Well-intended fun while his buddies cackle like hyenas in the background. It might be worth answering just to hear what he has to say.

Shinomiya, another wild card. Young, and alone she’d probably find no reason to bother her Vice Captain while he’s away. Respect, for the most part, is ingrained far too deeply to toy with a superior like this. But she can be swayed, and taunted when she’s not doing it herself. She could’ve been convinced simply to prove that she would after the boys swearing that she wouldn’t.

Furuhashi? Likely.

Hibino? Even more so.

Whoever it is, they’re relentless. As the phone continues ringing, Hoshina questions if his officers’ unwillingness to accept defeat is a good trait after all. Furuhashi can be rambunctious, but he’s a good boy. Proud, too proud for his own good sometimes, but by now he might have given up.

So Hoshina answers. “Hibino Kafka, this better be—”

“Hibino Kafka?” Another voice says, just a tinge of disappointment coating it. Just a tinge.

It’s… not Hibino after all.

Or Furuhashi, or any of his officers for that matter. Ten cackles as if he saw this coming, because frankly, he did.

“Narumi?”

“Captain Narumi,” he says on the other line, his words slightly trailing at the end, as if they were to slur together.  “About time… you picked up the phone.”

“Made it a little hard to ignore. Musta called ten times,” Hoshina murmurs.

“And yet you answered when you thought it was Hibino Kafka.”

“He is one of my officers. Would be bad leadership to let it go unanswered, don’t ya think?”

“Hmm.”

He’s unconvinced.

“Did you need anything? I was just going to sleep,” Hoshina says, although his lids are nowhere near heavy enough to fall, let alone stay closed.

“Where are you?” Narumi asks, music blaring on the other side.

“Just said I was going to bed, so where do ya think?”

“No, I mean we were expecting you here, so why the hell are you in bed?”

“That is not what you said.”

“Use your head. Get your ass up.”

Hoshina rolls on his side and sighs. He thought he’d answered this last night. “I said I wasn’t going.”

“I know what you said,” Narumi tells him. “I wasn’t the one asking for you.”

Part of that stings, and Hoshina’s not willing to dig deep enough to figure out why. If it’s so important, Ten will surely bring it up later.

Which he will.

“And yet, you’re the one who called,” Hoshina says, slightly teasing.

“Ashiro said no to going against your wishes. Good thing I don’t care about your wishes,” Narumi says.

The phone muffles, fumbling between hands, and Hoshina can hear a groan in the background. As inconvenient as this is, it’s more than he was doing alone.

“If you’re not joining us, can you at least come get your roommate?” Ashiro asks, while Narumi sounds like he’s thrashing at her side.

She sounds as level as she always is, like a night out has done nothing to impair her. Hoshina sighs. “He’s not my roommate.”

“For the week, he is,” she says. “This is an order.”

“Not fair.”

Ashiro laughs to herself, knowing she’s won. She’s not one to play these kinds of games, even Ten knows so. But people will surprise you, especially once they’ve put enough alcohol in their system, and Ashiro doesn’t get much time to enjoy herself in this line of work, so she must have taken the chance just because she could.

Hoshina grumbles a quick, “Fine, on my way,” trying to keep his tone from sounding too inconvenienced and reluctant.

The bar isn’t too far, just down the street, but it’s quite busy for a Wednesday night. Through the swarms of people, Hoshina just has to look for the long table with a party of way too many. A string of voices sing his name, greeting him with smiles and rosy cheeks. It’s endearing, and for a second he thinks this might have just been a ploy to get him out of bed after all.

He sighs. He said no for a reason, and it’s not because he doesn’t enjoy a casual drink.

But then he hears Narumi, and oh how he is trashed.

“I’m not going,” Narumi says, clutching a glass about a quarter of the way full. “I’m fine, and I don’t need a babysitter, or an escort, or whatever the hell you want to call it.”

“Hoshina! Come take a seat. It’ll be a while until he comes around,” Captain Ogata says, patting the empty space beside him.

They all look at him with hope in their eyes, and Hoshina doubts they’ll let him out of this place without having a drink with them. Even Ashiro looks at him and raises a brow. Fine. 

He takes his seat between Ogata and his own Captain, smiling and requesting a glass of wine, or a light beer if there’s anything good. It gains him a few laughs, and Narumi seems to have an issue with his order, like he does everything else.

“You can’t sit here and order a glass of wine, Hoshina. What do you think this is? Catch up, unless you can’t handle it,” Narumi says, downing the rest of his drink and slamming the glass down. He looks like he’s had enough.

“We’ll order another round of shots,” another Captain says, leaving no room for rebuttal.

“I’m sure I can outdrink you, Narumi,” Hoshina teases. “What is that, your second glass of the evening?”

“Screw you,” he says, but he doesn’t deny it, though Hoshina is sure he’s had much more than two glasses. “And it’s Captain Narumi to you.”

“Oh we’re all Captains here, so no need for formalities,” Soichiro says from the end of the table, waving Narumi off.

You must be really dumb to not realize they already consider you one.

For once, Hoshina won’t fight the feeling. He won’t shove his thoughts of Captain Narumi away, for it’s the only thing that keeps him from the sheer irritation of being stuck with Soichiro, even at a distance.

Narumi doesn’t deny that either. Come to think of it, he hasn’t said anything about Hoshina not belonging here. Not once has he belittled him, like he usually tries to. To think that once Hoshina had thought he could read the Captain, only to find out that he can’t.

I can, Ten laughs, but Hoshina would rather he keeps that to himself.

The round of shots comes, and immediately one more is ordered. “We have training in the morning. Isn’t this irresponsible?” Hoshina asks Ashiro, and to his surprise, she shrugs it off.

“You work hard enough to take a night off.”

After the shots, he lets the warmth settle in his stomach. He winces. It must be cheap liquor, but he’s not paying so he can’t complain much.

“Too much for you?” Narumi asks, scoffing.

“Just getting started,” Hoshina says, smiling. There’s some comfort in the expected, in things feeling normal between them for the first time this week. It only took some alcohol to pry it out of Narumi. “I see you’ve tapped out for the night.”

Stubborn as a bull. Narumi orders two more drinks.

When he decides it’s time to go, Hoshina still gets stuck dragging Narumi out of the bar. Other Captains snicker behind their backs, but everyone is so drunk that Hoshina doesn’t pay them any mind.

Outside, the silence is heavy, and perhaps things only felt normal with the atmosphere acting as a crutch. It was lively—music blaring, people laughing, others around them so Narumi’s presence didn’t feel as crushing as it does now. 

A little friendly competition never hurts anybody… when alcohol isn’t involved. Hoshina isn’t one to say no to a casual drink most times, a few celebratory drinks even. Hard liquor is usually where he draws the line, and if people weren’t ordering for him, he never would have reached for it himself. Narumi is even worse, swaying to one side then the other. Hoshina grips his arm to steady him, although letting him face plant is tempting after the days they’ve had.

“You interrupted my night, you know,” Narumi says. “I don’t need an escort. I could’ve taken myself back to the room, or left with somebody else.”

“So you did need an escort.”

“Left with them, as in spent the night there.”

Somehow, Hoshina doubts that. “Were you actually planning to do that?” He asks, raising a brow. Something in his chest spikes, and he hopes he says no. It’s none of his business, he shouldn’t care, he has no right to. But he’s human and—

Humans are stupid creatures.

They are.

Narumi grins. “I could’ve, but I guess that’s been thrown out the window by now.”

“Mhm.”

“You don’t know what I do in my free time.”

Show me.

No. No, no, no, just a drunken thought. Hoshina’s not sure where it even came from—an impulse, an intrusion. Nothing that means anything at all, just the alcohol talking and nothing that would ever cross his mind sober.

You forget I—

“Enough.”

Narumi looks at him and shrugs, not realizing it was for Ten. Hoshina does not need Ten calling him on his bullshit now, doesn’t need the reminder that none of his thoughts are ever safe, and that he can hardly lie to himself without a monster bringing all of it to light.

“Ya know, I’ve always assumed all you do is rot your brain with those stupid games you insist on playing,” Hoshina says. Yes, keeping up the conversation in the only way he knows how to is nice. Part of human communication must be condescending blows and quick retorts all delivered with a smile on one’s face, at least that’s what Hoshina makes it seem like.

“Ah, so you think about me,” Narumi says. Hoshina can’t say he expected such a calm response, snarky but calm. He also can’t say he expected to be called out on something he’s been trying not to do all week. “What else do you assume?”

That now, Narumi hates him more than he ever has. That Narumi doesn’t think he belongs here with the rest of them, even though now Hoshina’s not so sure about that. That this week is killing him just as much as it wounds Hoshina, for entirely different reasons.

You’re letting it slip, Tens tells him, but he doesn’t really care.

“I assume you’re a pain in the ass,” Hoshina says instead.

“That’s not an assumption. You already know that.”

Hoshina still has a grip on Narumi’s arm, and it’s a little too close for comfort. He’s never quite had him like this, but if he lets go, he tells himself the Captain will probably do something stupid like run off like a drunken maniac eager to ruin Hoshina’s night. Although he’s sure that’s not the truth, and Narumi isn’t that reckless.

Even if it’s an excuse, he keeps Narumi there, right where he is. And the Captain doesn’t shrug him off.

It’s beyond Ten’s comprehension.

“Put a little alcohol in your system and you don’t shut up, huh?” Hoshina asks. “This is the most you’ve spoken to me all week.”

Narumi shuts up. Huh, ironic. Maybe Hoshina’s words were sobering. Perhaps Narumi realized he actually doesn’t want to speak to him, and he’s not sure why suddenly he has. 

That’s it for the night, it seems. Nice while it lasted, and Hoshina hates that part about it.

Narumi takes a breath, like the one people take when they’re drunk out of their mind and suddenly forget breathing is fundamental. Dramatic— it was more of a sigh. “Well, that’s why I called you.”

Narumi is full of the unexpected too.

He’d surprise you if you let him.

Narumi, who wears his heart on his sleeve. His childish, battle-driven, heart. He keeps nothing to himself, so boisterously outspoken even when he shouldn’t be.

Hoshina can hardly believe that’s the case.

“Right.”

“Seriously, Hoshina. You said you weren’t coming with us.”

“I did say that. And you said you weren’t the one asking for me.”

“I wasn’t. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t volunteer to call once Ashiro said she wouldn’t.”

Suddenly, Hoshina’s listening. His smile fades, and he can’t find it in him to tease any further. Get the Captain a little drunk and he doesn’t shut up, but he’s… a normal person too. A normal person who can communicate and speak on civil terms, who doesn’t ignite in flames and immediately prepare to fight.

Humans have facades, you know. You should check your own, Vice Captain.

“Took you long enough to answer, after you thought Hibino Kafka was on the other line,” Narumi says, his voice somewhat gravelly towards the end.

Jealousy is also an odd human trait.

He's jealous. He’s jealous. How in his right mind could he be jealous when Narumi seems to want nothing to do with him?

“Figured it was better for me to call so that bastard from the Sixth wouldn’t,” Narumi says.

Hoshina can hardly believe this is the Captain Narumi he’s known all these years. What has it been, four, five? He lost count. But Hoshina’s never actually known him, not at all.

I told you he’d surprise you if you let him.

“That’s… quite considerate of you,” Hoshina tells him. Meek, like humans are.

“Yeah… I guess it was. Don’t get used to it,” Narumi says, matching Hoshina’s tone. He sways into Hoshina’s body, his shoulder brushing his, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind. “Besides, you haven’t talked to me much either.”

Ten thinks he might understand now, if just slightly, these kinds of strange, human connections. These stupid, absurd, ways two pieces fit together.

It’s ridiculous. Humans truly are the inferior species.

“What am I supposed to talk to you about? You’re moody and childish, and you don’t want to room with me anyway,” Hoshina says. It’s too harsh, almost the exact way Narumi approaches him on the regular, whenever they’re stuck seeing each other at joint events. That same defensive tone and unwillingness to be wrong. Cut from the same cloth. Hoshina realizes it quickly and evens himself out. “So shouldn’t we simply stay out of each other's way to make it easier for both of us?”

Why must you try to fight with him? Why don’t humans listen?

“I don’t think you really mean that,” Narumi says, pausing. He stops walking, though they’re so close to the barracks he might as well continue.

“You are moody and childish,” Hoshina tells him.

“True. I won’t deny that,” Narumi shrugs. “But you really want to stay out of each other's way? I find it hard to believe that, Hoshina. You’re a terrible liar.”

Tens laughs deep in Hoshina’s thoughts. He might know you better than you know him.

“Why else do you come into the room so quietly when you think I’m asleep?” Narumi presses. “I can hear you hesitate when you reach for the door.”

“Because it’s awkward.”

“And why is that? You—”

Narumi stops mid-sentence, hiccuping and covering his mouth with a closed fist. If the Captain hurls right here, Hoshina swears he’ll go right back to the Third Division and won’t look back. Vice Captain duties do not entail drunk babysitting.

But he doesn’t, and with a nod, Narumi continues walking. “And you act like I don’t see you watching me all the time.”

Oh, he has you figured out, Vice Captain. What's your next move?

“Shut up, will you?” Hoshina says, having enough of the comments and stupid remarks inside his head. Too much going on simultaneously, two consciences at once. No one lives like this, no one should. 

“What the hell?” Narumi grumbles, raising a brow.

“No, not you. Forget it.”

“You talk to yourself a lot,” he says. If only that were the case, Hoshina would probably feel less insane half the time. “You watch me a lot. I think you talk to yourself while watching me. Are you just a creep or something?”

There it is, the defensive tone, the need to fight. Ten sighs, actually sighs as if he could figure this out quicker than two human men in their mid-twenties.

“Can we stop having this conversation?” Hoshina asks. As if there’s actually a point to it. Tomorrow, they’ll start over, keep going on the same path they’ve been on. Silence, sneaking around, waiting for the week to end like ex lovers stuck together by chance.

Except that’s not what it is, he’s not sure why he made the connection to begin with.

He shakes the thought away. Wrong, incredibly wrong. “I highly doubt you’ll remember it tomorrow morning,” Hoshina says, hoping he drank enough earlier tonight to forget this all too, even though he knows he didn’t.

Hope is also a ridiculous and useless human trait.

“Alright, then admit it to me since I’ll forget anyway,” Narumi says, sarcasm lacing his words. Hoshina doubts he’ll forget any of this, drunk or not.

There’s not much to admit—not much that Hoshina will let himself admit. Not now, maybe not ever. Hell, he doesn’t even want to admit it to himself, but it doesn’t slip past Ten.

Would it kill him to say no, he doesn’t want to stay out of each other’s way? That the bickering and the fighting, the constant lurching towards each other's throats will always be better than the silence?

Yeah, it probably would kill him. No one ever said Hoshina must be the bigger person all the time.

They walk into the barracks, up the stairs and Hoshina’s not sure they’ll make it to the second floor. Level ground was one thing, but stairs are entirely different once you have a human body clinging to you like a lifeline at an incline.

“Do you drink like this often?” Hoshina asks, though he’d be entirely surprised if he does. He knows he’s to blame for how drunk Narumi is, and unless the Captain just so happens to have another rival he must outdo at all times at his disposal, the answer is no.

“Nope, never.”

“And you thought tonight was a good time to start?”

A grin stretches across Narumi’s face. His stupid, shit-eating grin that Hoshina won’t erase from his thoughts tonight. He should let him fend for himself for that reason. “Could’ve been my plan to get you to come out tonight.”

Hoshina shakes his head, dragging the Captain up the rest of the stairs, refusing to look at him. The less he sees, the less he’ll remember, and tonight he doesn’t want the pearlescent smile haunting his dreams. “You are so full of shit.”

When they make it to their room, Hoshina figures he should gently lead Narumi to the bed, but the Captain throws himself into the mattress instead, like they’ve been apart for too long.

He should get him some water, maybe an aspirin or something for the morning. Is aspirin okay after a night of drinking? Hoshina is hardly ever hungover, and when he is, he deals with the headache. Narumi, on the other hand, seems adverse to discomfort.

No. No, Narumi can get his own if he needs it. Hoshina doesn’t owe him such care—Narumi probably wouldn’t want it anyway. 

“You’re welcome,” Hoshina mutters, throwing a pair of loose shorts and a clean t-shirt at Narumi. What was it he just said about not owing the Captain care? “Change. Your outdoor clothes on the bed are disgusting.”

“In front of you? So bold, Vice Captain,” Narumi laughs. “If you want to see me naked, you could just ask. Might have to kick your ass first though.”

Hoshina’s heart jumps in his chest and he can feel his skin heating beneath his own touch. He can hear Ten living it up in the back of his mind and laughing at his humiliation.

He doesn’t want that.

But he does, and it feels like the thought was pried out from the corner he forced it into.

He wants. Things are so difficult when humans want more than they can have, when what they want threatens to destroy the appearances they maintain. Narumi can’t know that Hoshina wants him, not when it’s clear to him he isn’t wanted back.

He’s seen you naked too. Ask him about those eyes of his.

“What?”

“Oh, too far. Thought we were on joking terms now,” Narumi says, stripping his shirt and replacing it with the tee. A bit snug on him compared to his baggy loungewear. “We can go back to cutthroat hatred. I’m fine with that too. Pretty fun, if you ask me.”

He’s seen.

He’s seen.

How the hell do you know this? Hoshina asks Ten, gritting his teeth so the words don’t spill from his mouth out of habit. 

Ask him about No. 1’s eyes and the day he met you.

Hoshina grabs Narumi’s chin and angles him to look at him from below. He sits on the edge of the bed, and instead of fighting it, he lets him. He just lets him. Either he’s drunker than Hoshina thinks he is, or—

No. It couldn’t be.

The Captain’s breath hitches in his throat. He flinches at the unexpected contact, yet still, he lets Hoshina touch him.

“Use your Numbers Weapon. I want to see your eyes,” Hoshina says, his gaze locked on them. Icy, determined, like he’s on the battlefield instead of in a bedroom.

Fuschia, but not glowing. Hoshina’s never seen Narumi’s eyes so close, how the light hits them beneath the hair swept across his face. How warm they are, how Hoshina wants to brush his overgrown bangs away just to get a better look.

Narumi’s voice drops a bit, his playful tone gone, but subtle innocence in it. “I’m too drunk to activate it. Ask me in the morning.”

Yeah, he’s drunk, and this isn’t fair. Hoshina can’t put him on the spot like this and expect anything to come out of it when he’s not sober. Worse, he’s not sure how the weapon would react when Narumi’s control is impaired. It’s stupid, and reckless, and Hoshina just tried to put him at risk without thinking it through.

Narumi didn’t even question it. If he could’ve shown him, he probably would’ve. He’s never this willing to comply, ever.

Why now?

Because he’s drunk. That’s the only explanation. And Ten is fucking with him, tormenting him like he always does. Once again proving there is no alliance between Hoshina and the kaiju because it’s unnatural and unrealistic.

Hoshina lets go of his grip. They’re so painfully close, he can feel the heat between him and Narumi. Like if he stepped forward and dipped his head down, he might just… he could…

No. He half expects to hear Ten chime in as he takes in Narumi’s steady gaze for a moment longer, for him to patronize Hoshina for the thought that’ll stay longer than it’s welcomed to. 

But for once, the monster decides to shut up, sitting back to watch how the rest unravels. It is quality entertainment, after all. Hoshina refuses to put on a show though, so he backs away and shuts the light off instead.

“We have to be up early.”