Chapter Text
Through long and hard deliberation, you'd come to an inevitable conclusion: it was the work of the devil to try to get a cup of tea in this place.
It wasn't that you hadn't tried.
Just last month you'd set up a beverage station in the room allocated for your team's breaks, a selection of teas, a kettle, a teapot and a coffee machine.
Simple enough, or so you'd thought.
Nobody liked replacing things, it seemed.
The tea and coffee had run out, and then Mashiro had moved the kettle to boil water for an experiment, and then the coffee machine had mysteriously ended up in the team lead's office, and then the counter that you'd spent an entire afternoon clearing had transformed into a repository for miscellaneous files once again.
Fuck it.
If that's how they wanted to play then you possessed your own wiles.
Surreptitiously, you pulled open your desk drawer and gloated like an officious dragon over its hoard.
Beneath the paraphernalia of your daily tasks, the printed topographical maps, the weighty manual for the new and improved weather-tracking satellite system and the numerous markers you used to highlight points of subterranean kaiju activity, there was a treasure trove indeed.
Tea, and a variety of it too.
Your online order had come through, and the package had been everything you'd been hoping for.
"Hey, can I get some thermal imaging on that trench in sector five?"
Palming one of the slim canisters of kocha tea into your pocket, you slid the drawer shut.
In a second, your fingers were flying across the keyboard.
"Coming right up. There. Check the big screen."
Glancing at your watch, you decided to head to the break room. You wouldn't be needed again for at least an hour.
Fetching your cup and teapot from the cupboard, you unplugged the kettle from where it sat on Mashiro's table.
He protested, trying to grab your elbow, and you shook him off like a three month old puppy.
The kettle was going where it belonged.
Humming slightly to yourself a few minutes later, you inhaled the aroma emanating from your steaming cup.
Ah, this was the good stuff.
"Hmm. Smells great," came a voice, right beside your ear.
Thankfully, you weren't holding the cup, because you'd nearly leapt a foot in the air.
Spinning around, you placed a hand over your pounding heart.
Standing close by, wearing his distinctive fox-like smile like a badge of honour, was the Vice Captain of the Third Division, Hoshina Soshiro.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Damn, you scientists sure are a jumpy lot."
Despite the fact that he was only slightly taller than you, his presence in the small kitchenette was almost stifling.
Officers, let alone ranking ones, seldom came to your section of the building, and to see the Vice Captain here was -
Snapping to attention, you offered him a poor imitation of a salute.
"Sir!"
"Wow, such good form."
"Uh - "
He waved your formality away with nonchalance, his attention falling on the cup that stood at your elbow.
"A little bird told me to come slide by you if I wanted tea."
"They ... did?"
"Said you had a whole stash hidden away in your drawer."
Those traitors!
"Well, yes, I do. Would you ... like some?"
His demeanour switched to youthful delight in a moment, sleek hair falling sideways as he tilted his body to the right.
"Yes, please! Everyone 'round here drinks coffee like their lives depend on it."
He paused, considering.
"And boba tea. Not that I don't like boba tea, it's just ... not traditional, ya know?"
This conversation was growing increasingly surreal and you narrowly missed scalding your fingers as you poured hot water into the teapot.
While you worked, Hoshina leaned against the counter, examining the monitoring room beyond with interest.
You took the time to shoot a few glances his way.
Although you'd helped run operations, in the same close quarters with the higher ups on many occasions, interacting with them under casual circumstances was a little ... different.
Here, you could make out the grace and strength that imbued every movement, the functionality of his haircut, the small snaggle teeth that made an appearance when his smile grew wider, and the keen, observant gaze that missed nothing.
He had thin, pale lips, a small, nearly invisible scar through one eyebrow, and his fingers showed the evidence of hard training, their calloused tips revealing themselves as he folded his arms and tapped an upbeat rhythm against an elbow.
Abruptly, he turned to you.
It was a bit late to pretend not to be looking.
"You in the habit of staring at your officers like they're a cake on display?"
"I was just - "
You cut off, returning to brewing the tea. In your peripheral vision, he tilted his head.
"Curious?"
"Is that a crime?"
He wagged a finger at you.
"Curiosity killed the kitty cat."
"No fear there. With the hours I've been pulling, I'm definitely a raccoon."
His laughter in response was clear, ringing and infectious.
Hoshina had always been the easiest to amuse (mostly at the expense of others). It was also fairly easy to piss him off, and there was a fine line between the two states, as many unfortunate officers came to realise on their fifteenth lap around the grounds.
All the same, you couldn't help the irrepressible pull at the corners of your mouth at the sound of his mirth.
A finger poked lightly at your cheek.
"Hmm, not so serious after all."
"I've found that tea can fix that."
You handed him his cup. He took it carefully, feet shuffling eagerly as he maneuvered himself to face you once again.
He took a long sip, smile growing wider than you'd seen it yet.
"Oooh. Now that's good tea."
You hesitated before gathering up the courage you didn't know you lacked.
"You can come by again. I'll be happy to share."
"You sure? From what I heard, you're kinda possessive over your stash."
Grinding your teeth together, you wondered just who had been feeding him these ... half-truths.
"It's fine. At least you appreciate the flavour, unlike some people."
From a few desks over, Mashiro muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'snob'.
Hoshina drank his cup down to the dregs, rinsing it out in the small sink when he was done.
He offered a sharp, cheeky salute.
"Well then, benevolent goddess of tea, I take my leave."
Goddess?
You knew that his digs were always tongue in cheek, but it didn't prevent the heat that built at the tips of your ears.
With that said, you soon found your desk possessed by a cheerful, fearsome tea gremlin who took you up on your word in the most literal fashion possible.
Mashiro had blamed you (rightfully, for a change) for the fact that Hoshina now frequented your once-obscure observation room with almost weekly regularity.
On the occasions he showed up, unnanounced, he strolled around the workspace, poking his nose into the activities of scientists who clearly didn't want him there.
There were airy suggestions of "Now, let's put you guys through the grinder for a change. Taking it far too easy up here, looks like," all while he stuck his hand blatantly into your drawer, grinning with delight at the new treat he'd gotten hold of.
Not that you particularly minded.
Your work had always been up to scratch and Hoshina, unlike some of your colleagues, replaced everything he took, sometimes with products of far greater value.
Quite frankly, you were shocked at the rarity of some of the tea blends he'd managed to get hold of.
On this particular afternoon, you'd seen the third division engaged in some rigorous drills from the window overlooking the track and field.
You certainly hadn't been expecting Hoshina to show up, but that he did, gaze sweeping the office in search of something.
That something turned out to be you.
You didn't much fancy the small flip flop your stomach performed when his face immediately brightened at the sight of you.
He hurried over, conspiratorial grin revealing the full glory of his razor-toothed delight.
"Hey, hey, you'll never guess what I've got here."
He plonked a silk-wrapped box on the desk in front of you. You noted a cloth bag in his other hand, the contents of which clinked gently as he moved.
Your eyes widened. If you had identified the pattern on the wrapping correctly ...
"Is this ...
"Gyokuro from Fukuoka! Let's have some."
You glanced up at him, a little in awe.
"How did you ... but never mind that. Are you sure you want to drink it here? In the office? Surely some special occasion would be - "
You noted that his expression had shifted slightly, growing more serious.
"You don't want to share it with me?"
"What? No! That's not what I - what I meant was, maybe you should keep something this ... exclusive for when you're having a celebration of some kind?"
He stroked his chin, an uncharacteristic frown marring his features.
"Hmm. It seems even you don't get it."
"Get what?"
He plucked the tea from your desk, spinning around to face the door.
"On your feet!"
You obeyed without really thinking about it.
Was he going to make you do push-ups for not 'getting' the elusive message? You supposed you could get in thirty before your arms seized up.
Hoshina, however, was pausing on the threshold and looking over at you expectantly.
"Come on! Don't dilly dally!"
Dilly dally? Really?
Not wishing to risk your neck, you hurried after him.
He led you to the staircase at the far end of the corridor, then up, and up and up again, all the way to the rooftop that was currently in a state of repair.
Stepping over concrete blocks and bags of cement, you found yourself in an empty space, overlooking the city beyond.
Hoshina produced a flask of boiling water from an inner pocket of his jacket. The cloth bag yielded his own teapot (definitely superior to yours), a cooling vessel and two small ceramic cups.
Considering where you were, he'd come fully prepared for this.
He looked up while pouring water into the cooling vessel.
"Come on. I don't bite unless you ask nicely."
You climbed over the smooth concrete pipe opposite him, seating yourself there.
"There are conditions for biting?"
"You have to infuse with tea first to give yourself a nice flavour."
"That took a dark turn, really quickly."
He spread his arms wide, all encompassing.
"Ain't that the way of the world?"
You both sat in comfortable silence for a while, observing the slow deepening of shadows across the uneven landscape of office blocks and communication towers.
"Why up here?"
He handed you a cup, its contents steaming lightly.
"You know, there's something I tell all the new recruits, almost every year. Not to get too attached to their squad mates, because there's no knowing what could happen out there."
He gestured at the vista arrayed out before you.
"Thing is, there's a contradiction hidden in there somewhere."
You took a slow sip, deciding to figure this one out by yourself.
"You're telling them not to get too attached, but they're still risking their lives for all of... this."
His finger comes down like a loaded gun.
"Precisely. I'd be a poor vice-captain if I couldn't recognise that."
There was another moment of silence, while you considered him carefully. The setting sun had burnished his skin to a russet hue, the wind whistling across the rooftop shifting the fine, glossy bangs to one side.
He seemed like he genuinely wanted to have this conversation, to carry some important point across to you.
Taking another sip, you frowned.
"So why do you advise the recruits to do that?"
His answer came easily.
"'Cos that's my job. To teach them the meaning of impermanence. You can't move forward if you're lost in all the things you could have done better. Or all the things you've never even attempted. And that applies to this too."
He pointed at the package of expensive tea.
"How're you gonna miss the flavour of this, if you never took the opportunity to taste it in the first place?"
Ah. A truly military way of doing things.
You'd probably have chosen a different way of explaining, one that didn't involve sitting on top of an increasingly frigid rooftop, but he'd made his point well enough.
Besides, the tea was amazing, and you couldn't complain about the company either.
Placing your cup down, you met his gaze.
"This is delicious."
He propped a leg up on the pipe beside you, regarding you with amusement through one open eye.
"Ain't it just."
All right, you found him attractive.
There was little use denying that.
Hoshina was mercurial, a flamenco danced with a dagger between the teeth, a game of five finger fillet at speeds that broke the sound barrier, and somehow, simultaneously, a responsible captain, a beloved mentor, a man who loved animals and sports cars, who would curl up in a sunny spot, much like a feline himself, with a good book and a dessert.
He'd also happily sacrifice life and limb for everyone around him.
A complex, tangled yarn he was, near impossible for you to fully comprehend. Just when you'd thought one snarled and matted end had been brushed out to gleaming perfection, five other conundrums sprang up in its wake.
Apparently, this was what turned you on.
Lord knew, your own mind was full of unexpected surprises.
It was, therefore, inevitable that you'd someday walk in on him in the middle of a training session.
This time, there was a perfectly valid excuse for you to be in the vicinity of the third division barracks.
There was a request form you had to deliver in person, and the necessary signatures were required.
This was grunt work, as far as you were concerned, but when you'd tried to shove it off on the grunt in question (Mashiro), he'd turned to you with a hideous grin and wondered (loudly) why you couldn't get the signatures faster since you were so thick with the third division leadership.
You supposed that you deserved that.
Thus it was that you found yourself in the corridors of the barracks, clutching the folder against your side.
Captain Ashiro wasn't an issue at all. You'd worked with her before, and she was kind, brisk and professional.
She'd been exactly where you were informed; at her office, completing other sundry paperwork after returning to base from a meeting. Getting her signature had been easy.
No, the real issue was ...
The training room door yawned like an innocuous entry to the underworld.
There was no reason at all to be nervous, considering the sheer number of interactions you'd had with him so far, but somehow, you knew that seeing him like this would be ...
Now standing in the doorway, your fears were confirmed.
Twin blades whipped through the air, incredible speed and precision in every movement, a dance of kaiju-infused steel.
Hoshina in his element was every bit the housecat transformed to panther, predatory, preturnatural grace and power, feet padding across the floor in a rhythm too quick for the eye to successfully follow.
The fitted shirt he wore did little to disguise the ripple of lean muscle, the sheen of sweat that illuminated his skin in the dim light filtering through the windows.
It's always something of a shock to the system, a jarring out of the regular paths of human interaction, to see someone you knew well show just how capable they were of slicing a dozen living organisms in two in a matter of minutes.
Your fears were indeed confirmed. Watching him like this ignited a part of your consciousness that didn't really bear thinking about.
Fortunately, he spotted you before the situation got really awkward. You could have stood there for half an hour, lost in the mesmerizing weave of practiced death.
Hoshina came to a standstill, hip cocked, one blade resting on his shoulder, chest heaving from the exertion of his exercise.
You tried, very hard, not to follow that movement with your eyes.
"Oh, it's you. Thought it was one of the junior officers."
"Sorry to disappoint. It's just me, with some fascinating forms for you to sign. We're test driving a new survey tech in the field next week."
He sheathed his swords, heading for the chair nearby where a towel lay folded neatly.
Wiping off his face, he approached, and there was something about his current demeanour that seemed ... different.
Perhaps it was the fact that he was never ostentatious in his display of skill or strength that made the actual reveal of it so much more potent.
He could have had you on the floor of the training room in a moment, one foot on your neck, and you'd probably thank him.
Ho now. Easy there. Where'd that thought come from?
Hoshina took the papers from you, along with the pen you produced from an inner pocket. He geatured to you, swinging his finger in a small circle.
"Turn around, bright eyes."
Oh, so now you were relegated to furniture. Lovely.
Complying with a sigh, you felt him place the paper against your back, waiting for the scratch of the pen.
You continued to wait.
After a few minutes, you heard him flip a page.
"Excuse me? I'm not standing here forever when you have perfectly serviceable desks one room over."
"But you're doing so well. Just relax," came a smoky murmur from behind you.
Oh, this man was the devil.
"Hoshina - "
Finally the pen came down, somehow, over the lower end of your back where you were most ticklish.
A small, anguished sound exited your lips, even as you held firm.
He paused, that unmistakable tone of mischief filtering into his voice.
"You okay? Need a break?"
"Are you done?"
"All finished!"
He clicked the pen with a flourish, offering you the signed papers.
"Next time you want to watch me train, you just have to ask, you know."
"You're making a lot of assumptions today."
"I don't think I am, miss. Not with the way you're looking at little ... old ... me."
He reached up to his neck where the towel now hung and dragged it down, across his torso, in a very deliberate motion.
When had he transformed into such an insufferable tease?
No, no, he was always like this, except now it was directed at you.
Deciding that you could, perhaps, play his game, you tucked the papers neatly into the folder before glancing back up at him.
"All right. When are you training again, Hoshina?"
There.
A little spark of surprise, and if you weren't mistaken, he looked pleased.
"Oho. Now look, let me set up some conditions."
You folded your arms, amusement now taking the forefront.
"What now?"
He took a step closer.
"How's your physical conditioning?"
"Fair."
"Hmm. Hmm."
He made a show of looking you up and down.
"Maybe we could spar."
"Are you ... joking? That wouldn't even be a challenge."
"It'll be a challenge for you."
"And what exactly are you getting out of it."
He grinned, the sly satisfaction of a spider in an impenetrable web.
"Stress relief."
Rolling one shoulder, he uttered a low grunt of satisfaction at the stretch.
You wondered if he'd ever been slapped for being too sexy.
"So, my role has been upgraded from furniture to punching bag?"
"Oh, come now. I can also be benevolent. Let's consider it payback for sharing all that tea with me." He spread his arms wide. "A lesson from the Vice Captain himself."
It certainly couldn't hurt, in fact, it was an opportunity some of the officers would kill for.
You'd probably embarrass yourself horribly, but took comfort in the fact that even actual trained soldiers wouldn't fare much better against him than you would.
"Then let me know when - "
Before you could finish, he snared your hand in his, callouses scraping across your palm as he spread your fingers outward, a series of short, sharp scribbles appearing on your skin.
With a nimble twirl of the pen, he tucked it into the pocket of your lab coat.
"My personal number. For co-ordination purposes."
His personal number -
As if a short circuit wasn't already imminent in your brain, he turned in the doorway, eyes hooded, playful and dangerous.
"Better have your painkillers ready. You're gonna be sore after."
He was right.
You were sore, and not in the good way, either.
As elegant as he'd looked in motion, the training session had been brutal.
You thanked your lucky stars for the tracksuit bottoms you'd decided to go with, along with a fitted long-sleeve shirt for easy movement. The bruises weren't going to look pretty.
Hoshina had probably taken it extremely easy on you, but that didn't change the fact that you'd barely had a chance to exit a defensive stance the entire time.
Working for the anti-kaiju unit meant that, even as someone who was primarily involved in technical aspects, you'd also received formal training in weapons use, combat and had passed a physical test (not as rigorous as the one implemented for new officers, obviously).
This session served to show just how basic that training was, with Hoshina's movements a veritable blur beyond the shield of your arms, his attacks slipping past your guard like a striking cobra.
Many times you'd ended up on the floor, including one memorable occasion when he'd seated himself calmly on your buttocks while you'd regained your breath, sipping on a nutrient sachet to replenish himself for Wiping the Floor with Said Ass, Round 2.
All things considered, though, you'd learned a hell of a lot in just one go. The constant barrage had forced greater awareness forward, and you were sure that if there was a next time, your movements would be faster, more decisive, and you wouldn't (embarrassingly) crumple up with pain the moment the edge of his hand met your stomach.
Unfortunately, he hadn't beaten the attraction out of you.
He was still sexy, sad to say, but prolonged physical contact had taken some of the edge off the nervousness you'd begun to experience around him.
Being put in a non-sexual chokehold, or having your nose smashed against his rock-hard abdomen, or having his legs wrapped around you multiple times while you floundered like a hapless goldfish would do the trick.
There were times, however, when you did wonder.
Such as when he'd hover close to you, grinning and triumphant, the sweat from his chest dampening your back, or when he'd deliberately aim for the base of your spine, fingers prodding where he knew you were most ticklish.
Despite being vastly superior in every sense, he seemed like he was actually enjoying himself.
He liked it even more when you tried to distract him by making him laugh.
"A vice captain and a kaiju walk into a bar. Who leaves?"
You were defending against a series of jabs to the ribs.
"Is this a trick question?"
"Ugh ... no?"
"The vice captain."
"Oof, ouch, no."
"The kaiju?"
"Ow, ow, ow, no."
"Then who leaves the bar?"
"What bar?"
"Think you're so clever, huh?"
"No, no, no, I'm not clever - blergh."
Of course, he'd made sure that you'd stretched afterwards, handing you a towel and a bottle of water when you'd finished.
It had only been an hour, but it had felt like much longer.
Crouching cheerfully next to you, where you'd sprawled bonelessly like a starfish, he tapped your forehead.
"Well, that was fun."
As much as you didn't want to admit it, he was right.
"What's this? I left you speechless?"
"Give me ... minute ... please."
He leaned over, slipping a hand beneath your wrist and raising, placing the cool bottle against the outside of your forearm, which had taken quite a beating.
Even in your current state, you registered the incredible strength that you'd been on the receiving end of for the afternoon, but also how soft his touch was in contrast.
You uttered a small sigh as the bottle drifted along the length of your arm, pausing here and there.
"Put an cooling pack on this when you go to sleep. Otherwise you'll really be feeling it tomorrow."
"Yessir."
Sitting up, you allowed yourself to be pulled to your feet, your lack of balance edging you slightly toward him.
For the briefest moment, your breath mingled with his, different from the myriad other occasions during the sparring session.
Hoshina's eyes were such a lovely colour, dark velvet draped across a blood-stained afternoon.
He never wavered, so it was you who took a step back, hand drifting to your side as he released it.
"I think I'm going to enrol for the combat training programme. In my spare time."
He brightened.
"Oh? Well, additional skills are always an asset. May need them to survive someday, who knows?"
You headed for the door of the training room, pausing to look back at him.
"Hoshina ... thanks. Today was fun, even though I ... look like this."
He leaned slightly into you, one shoulder gently nudging you forward.
"Go get some rest. That's what happens when you train with me."
"Complete and utter exhaustion?"
"That's a matter of perspective. I could always work ya harder than this."
Did he even realise what effect those casually dropped words had on your -
You caught the quirk of his mouth.
Oh, he definitely knew.