Kaiju No. 8 - Headcanons x Reader - The Beginning of Friendship
Here is the link to the first chapter which is the first meeting: 1
The following days established an unexpected routine. Every evening, around ten o'clock, Soshiro found (y/p) in the training room. Never by explicit arrangement—simply, they both showed up at the same time, as if drawn by a tacit understanding.
That evening, Soshiro arrived whistling, a cup of coffee in hand. He stopped on the threshold, seeing (y/n) already mid-exercise, pushing back a training dummy with a series of rapid strikes.
- Oh ? he said with his usual smile. Starting without me now ? I feel neglected.
(y/p) wiped her forehead, slightly out of breath.
- Good evening, Vice Captain. I didn't want to keep you waiting.
- Mmh, he replied, approaching, his half-closed eyes scrutinizing her movements. You know, (l/n)-san, you still have that little problem...
He lazily swirled his coffee cup.
- You fight like you're protecting a convenience store cash register behind you. It's touching, but a bit predictable.
- I'm not protecting a cash register.
- No ? Shame, I would've liked a free snack, he joked, setting down his cup. Come on, show me if you've improved or if I'm going to keep being bored.
He unsheathed his training swords with a fluid movement, his smile widening.
- And this time, try not to telegraph all your moves. I'm starting to read your technique like the cafeteria menu.
The exchange that followed was more intense than previous ones. Soshiro didn't hold back in his comments, punctuating each parry with a light remark.
- Oh, that one was almost good ! Three or four more years of training and you might worry me.
- Watch your footing, (l/n)-san. You look like you're walking on eggs. Kaiju won't wait for you to find your balance.
- Mmh, not bad. But "not bad" doesn't kill Honju, you know ?
After a good half hour, (y/n) stopped, visibly frustrated by his constant teasing. Soshiro, meanwhile, seemed perfectly relaxed, as if he'd just taken a leisurely stroll.
- You're having fun at my expense, she stated dryly.
- Absolutely, he confirmed without the slightest shame, his eyes still closed in a smile. It's much more entertaining than mission reports.
He sat against the wall casually, vaguely patting the floor beside him. After a hesitation, (y/n) sat down, keeping her distance.
- But seriously, he continued in a more neutral tone, you have potential. Shame you're wasting it constantly replaying the same situation in your head.
- Yes, yes, he interrupted gently. I see it in every movement. You fight like someone who's already lost once and refuses to let it happen again.
Silence settled. (y/n) clenched her fists on her knees.
- During my first mission, she finally began, my superior ordered a perimeter sealed before all civilians were evacuated. Eight people. He called them "acceptable sacrifice."
Soshiro listened without interrupting, his smile still present but his eyes slightly more attentive.
- I held the position until they all got out. I disobeyed a direct order. Hence the transfer.
- Ah, Soshiro said, nodding. So you're the type to complicate things to save strangers. Interesting.
There was something in his tone—not quite mocking, not quite serious.
- You know what I think ? he continued, rising smoothly. Your former superior was probably calculating survival statistics while you were saving lives. To each their own priorities.
It wasn't exactly a compliment, but it wasn't criticism either.
- Well, shall we continue ? he said, retrieving his swords. This time, I'd like to see what you can do when you're not replaying your past trauma. It might be refreshing.
(y/n) looked at him, disconcerted by his completely detached approach to such a serious subject.
- You... don't you think that was important ?
Soshiro turned around, slightly opening one violet eye.
- Of course it was important. Eight people are alive because of you. But if you keep fighting while thinking about that day, you'll end up losing eight others because you were too busy looking behind you.
He spun his blades casually.
- Now, come. And this time, fight as if I were really dangerous. Because, between us, I'm starting to get offended that you're holding back so much.
His smile widened, a glint of challenge in his gaze.
- Unless you're afraid of hurting your Vice Captain ?
The following weeks established a strange balance. Soshiro never stopped teasing her, commenting on her techniques with a mixture of precise observation and light sarcasm. But (y/n) began to understand that behind each remark lay a lesson.
One evening, when she finally managed to surprise him with a feint he hadn't anticipated, Soshiro stopped dead, his eyes opening completely.
For the first time, his smile seemed genuinely impressed.
- Well, well. Maybe I'll have to start paying attention after all.
He got back into stance, his expression suddenly more focused.
- Go ahead, (l/n)-san. Show me that technique again. And this time, don't mentally apologize before executing it.
As they resumed their exchange, something had changed. It was no longer a Vice Captain evaluating a recruit. It was two fighters sharpening each other.
When they finally put away their weapons, Soshiro stretched lazily.
- Same time tomorrow ? he asked as if it were obvious.
- Won't you tire of criticizing me someday ? (y/n) retorted with a hint of amusement in her voice.
- Mmh, probably not, he admitted with a wink. You're too fun when you make that frustrated face.
He headed toward the exit, then stopped on the threshold without turning around.
- Ah, and (l/n)-san ? That technique from earlier... keep working on it. It could become problematic. For Kaiju, I mean.
Then he disappeared into the corridor, leaving her with something that almost resembled a compliment.
(y/n) smiled despite herself. Soshiro Hoshina was impossible, exasperating, and refused to take anything seriously.
But in a way, that was exactly what she needed.
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Five days had passed since (y/n)'s arrival at the First Division. Five days during which she had methodically organized her new laboratory, catalogued existing data, and noted with dismay the catastrophic state of post-mission analysis archives.
- How did they survive until now with a system like this ? she muttered, staring at her screen, exasperated by the glaring lack of exploitable information.
Her laboratory door opened without anyone knocking.
(y/n) looked up, expecting to see Hasegawa with a new pile of administrative forms. Instead, Gen Narumi entered with a dragging step, eyes riveted to his phone, headphones around his neck playing music loud enough for her to hear from where she was.
He slumped into the visitor's chair without even looking at her, crossed his legs on an equipment crate, and continued playing.
(y/n) waited. One minute. Two minutes.
- Captain, she finally said in a flat voice. Do you need something ?
- Hm ? Gen briefly looked up. Nah. Continue your thing.
- Then... why are you in my lab ?
- Hasegawa kicked me out of my office. Says I need to "finalize overdue reports" or something. Gen made a face. It's boring. Here it's quiet.
(y/n) slowly put down her stylus and turned completely toward him.
- So your strategy is to flee your responsibilities by squatting in my workspace ?
- Fascinating. And if I told you I need quiet to work and the incessant beeps of your game are the exact opposite of "quiet" ?
Gen finally really looked up, a smirk appearing on his face.
- Would you kick me out ? The Strongest Anti-Kaiju Fighter in Japan ?
- Without hesitation, (y/n) replied without blinking. Titles don't pay lab bills and don't compensate for noise pollution.
Gen burst out laughing—that same authentic laugh she'd heard during their first meeting.
They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Gen lowered the volume of his game with a shrug.
- Fine. Compromise. I lower the sound, you let me stay.
- That's not really a compromise if you're settling in without permission anyway.
- Exactly. But at least now you have the illusion of having had a say.
(y/n) shook her head, but something resembling amusement danced in her eyes.
She returned to her work, and Gen to his game, the volume considerably reduced this time. The silence that settled was... strangely comfortable.
After twenty minutes, (y/n) glanced toward him. He had fallen asleep, the phone still in his hand.
- Incredible, she murmured. You're really using my lab as a hotel room.
As if he'd heard her, Gen mumbled something incomprehensible in his sleep and turned over in the chair.
(y/n) sighed and returned to her data. At least, asleep, he wasn't making noise.
The emergency alarm tore Gen from his sleep with an irritated groan. He straightened up suddenly, perfectly alert in a fraction of a second.
Alert. Confirmed kaiju appearance. Sector: Shinagawa. Threat level: Honju. Estimated Fortitude: 6.8. All units to combat positions.
- Tch. Shinagawa again, Gen muttered, standing up.
The change was instantaneous and striking. The sleeping gamer disappeared, replaced by something much more dangerous. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.
- You going to the control room ? he suddenly asked, heading toward the exit.
(y/n), who was already gathering her things, looked at him.
- Obviously. It's my job.
- Then have fun. Gen stopped on the threshold. And if you have anything interesting to tell me, say it. Otherwise, stay silent. I don't like noise pollution during fights.
- Note that I could say the same thing about your gaming sessions in my lab.
Gen turned around, surprised, then smiled broadly.
With those words, he disappeared into the corridor.
The control room buzzed with activity. (y/n) slipped into her assigned station, briefly greeting Akira Kurusu who was already coordinating troop movements.
On the main screen, the kaiju resembled a giant scorpion, its tail bristling with spikes sweeping through the streets with destructive violence.
- Captain Narumi approaching, someone announced.
(y/n) activated her interfaces and immediately began compiling data. Movement patterns, vulnerability zones, attack frequency...
Gen appeared on the screen in a burst of movement. No RT-0001 lenses, just his standard equipment. He assessed the kaiju with a glance, then attacked without ceremony.
It was brutal and efficient. Gen moved like a blade, each gesture calculated to inflict maximum damage. His bayonet traced deadly arcs, and the kaiju retreated under the assault.
- Level 6.8 ? Seriously ? Gen's voice growled in the communicator. I moved for this ?
But something caught (y/n)'s attention. The kaiju... was changing. Subtly. Its counterattacks were becoming faster, more precise.
She enlarged several data streams, analyzing micro-variations. Her heart rate accelerated when she realized.
- Kurusu, she said abruptly. The kaiju is adapting its responses. It's learning from the Captain's combat style.
Akira turned toward her, brows furrowed.
- Honju of this level don't have that capability.
- Look at the data. (y/n) brought up graphs on a secondary screen. Initial reaction time: 0.4 seconds. Now: 0.18 seconds. It's synchronizing.
On the main screen, Gen parried an attack—and for the first time, had to retreat several steps under the force of the counter.
- Heh, you learn fast, Gen commented, and his tone had changed. More focused.
(y/n) frantically scanned the last attack sequences. There was a pattern. There. A three-phase cycle that repeated systematically.
- If you have anything interesting to tell me, say it.
(y/n) pressed the direct communication button without hesitation.
- Captain, three-phase pattern. Two horizontal strikes, 0.8 second pause, vertical strike. Exploitable window during the pause.
Radio silence for two seconds. Then:
- Analysis of the last fifteen sequences. Repetition rate: 96%.
- ... Let's see about that.
On screen, Gen immediately changed tactics. He provoked the kaiju, forcing the sequence. First strike—dodge. Second strike—parry.
Gen exploded into the opening with lightning speed, his bayonet finding the weak point at the base of the tail. The explosion tore off the limb, and the kaiju collapsed.
The rest was dispatched in less than thirty seconds.
- Neutralization confirmed, Hasegawa announced.
In the control room, a few technicians cast surprised glances toward (y/n). She kept her eyes on the screen, where Gen was wiping his bayonet with a casual gesture.
- Good analysis. Precise and actionable. Keep it up.
(y/p) nodded but said nothing. On screen, Gen had just looked up at the drone camera, as if he could see her through the lens.
He gave a mocking salute before walking away.
(y/n) didn't see Gen again that day. Nor the next. She didn't even question it—she had work, and he probably had his own distractions.
The third day after the fight, as she was compiling data in her laboratory, the door opened without warning.
Gen entered, a soda can in hand. He flopped directly onto the chair with an exaggerated sigh.
- Hasegawa is unbearable today.
- Good day to you too, Captain, (y/n) said without looking up from her screen.
- Yeah, yeah. He set the can on her desk. Here, I got two.
(y/n) looked at the can, then at Gen.
- Is this supposed to be a gift or did you just not want to carry it ?
- Both. Gen opened his own can. Take it or I'll drink it too.
(y/n) grabbed the can with a small amused smile.
Gen snickered and pulled out his phone. Five minutes passed in almost comfortable silence. Then, without looking up:
- Your thing with the pattern the other day. It was precise.
(y/n) turned slightly in her chair.
- Thank you. It's my job.
- Yeah, but being fast and being useful aren't the same thing. You were both.
It was probably the most indirect compliment she'd ever received.
- Should I understand that you finally recognize the importance of scientific collaboration ?
Gen looked up, a smirk on his lips.
- I recognize that you're not completely useless. Nuance.
- Such eloquence. I'm moved.
- You should be. I don't say that to anyone usually.
(y/n) shook her head but couldn't hold back a small laugh.
- You have very low standards for compliments.
- My standards are perfect. It's just that nobody usually meets them.
(y/n) returned to her work, but something in the atmosphere had changed. Lighter. Less formal.
- By the way, Gen said after a moment. Next time there's an alert, I might activate my RT-0001. Just to see if you can keep up when I'm serious.
(y/n) turned her head, arching an eyebrow.
- Then I accept. But don't come complaining when my analyses are too fast for you.
Gen burst out laughing—that authentic laugh she was beginning to recognize.
- Oh, I like that. You've got guts.
- You already said that during our first meeting.
- Because it's still true.
He dove back into his game, and (y/n) returned to her data. But this time, the silence was different. Not just tolerable—almost pleasant.
Two days later, a new alert sounded. This time, Gen activated his RT-0001 from the start.
- Let's see if you can keep up, scientist, he said in the communicator, and (y/n) could hear the challenge in his voice.
She rose to the challenge.
Their coordination was almost perfect. (y/n) analyzed and transmitted data with surgical precision, and Gen exploited each piece of information without hesitation. The kaiju was neutralized in record time.
- Not bad, Gen said after the fight. You might not be useless after all.
In the control room, several technicians exchanged glances. Akira Kurusu shook his head with something almost resembling amusement.
When (y/n) returned to her lab that evening, she found Gen already installed in the chair, asleep with his phone on his chest.
She looked at him for a moment, then cleared her throat loudly.
Gen opened one eye, not at all embarrassed to be caught sleeping.
- You know you have an apartment, right ?
- Yeah. But it's far. Here's close.
- Impeccable logic, (y/n) commented dryly.
Gen smiled, closed his eyes, and went back to sleep without further ceremony.
(y/n) sighed, shook her head, and returned to her work. In the corridor, Hasegawa passed by the laboratory, glanced through the window, and let out a long resigned sigh.
- I knew this would happen, he muttered before continuing his rounds.
For Gen Narumi, who didn't easily let anyone into his personal space, the simple act of falling asleep in someone's laboratory was already a form of trust.
And for (y/n), who understood that Gen never expressed himself directly, the mutual provocations and constant challenges were their own language of budding friendship.
It was weird. Unorthodox. Completely unpredictable.
But strangely, it suited them both perfectly.
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Dawn had barely broken when (y/n) arrived at the training ground, her breath forming small clouds in the freezing morning air. 05:55. She had checked the time three times before leaving her room, determined not to make a bad impression on the first day.
The ground was deserted, lit by a few streetlamps that cast long shadows on the concrete floor. (Y/n) clenched her fists in her training gloves, feeling her heart beat a little too fast. Don't be nervous, she scolded herself. You asked for this. Own it now.
At 06:00 sharp, a silhouette emerged from the darkness. Reno Ichikawa walked with an even stride, his silver hair slightly tousled by the morning wind. He wore his standard training uniform. His violet eyes briefly swept over the ground before settling on her.
- You're on time, he stated simply, without a trace of surprise in his voice.
- I said I'd be here, (y/n) replied, raising her chin slightly.
Something that could have resembled approval fleetingly crossed Reno's gaze, but his expression remained neutral.
- We'll start with warm-up. Twenty laps around the field, then mobility exercises.
(Y/n) nodded and they began running side by side. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable—simply functional. Reno maintained a constant pace, neither too fast nor too slow, and (y/n) strove to keep up. After the tenth lap, she felt her lungs burning, but gritted her teeth and continued.
- You can slow down if necessary, Reno said without looking at her. Endurance is built progressively.
- I can keep up, (y/n) panted.
This time, Reno turned his head slightly toward her. His eyes assessed her briefly before refocusing on the path ahead.
- Determination is important. But injuring yourself out of pride isn't.
The words were direct, but not mean. (Y/n) realized he wasn't testing her to watch her fail—he was genuinely assessing her limits. She adjusted her breathing, finding a more sustainable rhythm.
After the laps, Reno guided her through a series of mobility and stretching exercises. His instructions were precise, demonstrated with an economy of movement that testified to repeated practice. (Y/n) watched him attentively, noting how he positioned his body, how he controlled each muscle.
- Your stance is too wide, he observed, approaching. If a Kaiju attacks from this side, you'll lose your balance.
He slightly adjusted the position of her feet with his own foot, a professional and impersonal gesture.
- Like this. Your center of gravity must remain stable even in movement.
(Y/n) modified her position and immediately felt the difference. More stable, more reactive.
- That's better, Reno approved before stepping back. Now, reflex exercise.
He picked up a small rubber ball he had brought and threw it at her without warning. (Y/n) caught it by reflex, surprised.
They spent the next twenty minutes bouncing the ball between them, Reno progressively increasing the speed and varying the angles. Each time (y/n) missed, he said nothing—he simply retrieved the ball and started again. No judgment, no harsh criticism. Just the methodical repetition of the exercise.
As the sun began to rise, casting golden light over the field, Reno finally stopped.
- That's enough for today. Your reflexes are decent, but you anticipate too much. React to what's happening, not to what you think is going to happen.
(Y/n) nodded, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Her muscles were already protesting, but she also felt a strange satisfaction. She had held up.
- Ichikawa-san, she said as he put away his equipment. Why did you agree to train me?
Reno stopped, the rubber ball in his hand. He remained silent for a moment. Not because he was searching for his words, but rather because this wasn't the kind of thing he usually said.
- Hibino-senpai helped me on my first day at Monster Sweeper, he said finally. He could have given up, he didn't. Same with Iharu. He came back even though he was injured.
- I can't repay that directly. So...
He didn't finish the sentence. The so was enough.
(Y/n) stared at him, touched by this rare opening. Reno wasn't the type to share easily, she already understood that. The fact that he was explaining his motivations meant something.
- Do you think I can become strong enough to protect others? she asked softly.
Reno put the ball in his bag and looked at her directly.
- Strength helps, he said. But without the rest—vigilance, trusting others—it's not enough.
He adjusted his bag strap.
- You have determination. The rest can be learned.
He began to walk away, then stopped.
- Tomorrow, same time. Bring your rifle. We'll work on shooting.
- I'll be there, (y/n) promised, a smile forming on her lips.
The following days established a rhythm. Each morning at 06:00, (y/n) and Reno met on the training ground. Sometimes they ran, sometimes they practiced shooting, sometimes Reno had her work on strength and coordination exercises. He didn't talk much, but his instructions were always clear and precise.
What surprised (y/n) was Reno's patience. She had expected a strict and demanding trainer—which he was—but also understanding. When she failed, he analyzed the problem and adjusted the exercise. When she succeeded, he simply nodded, but she learned to recognize this gesture as sincere approval.
One morning, after a week of training, they found themselves at the cafeteria again for breakfast. (Y/n) set her tray down across from Reno, who looked up from his rice.
- You're improving, he said simply. Your reaction time has improved by 0.3 seconds this week.
(Y/n) blinked, surprised that he was timing her performances so precisely.
- You... you're keeping track of everything?
- Improvement is measured, Reno replied as if it were obvious. How else would you know if you're progressing?
It was so characteristic of him—methodical, analytical, dedicated. (Y/n) smiled despite herself.
- You should smile more often, Reno commented unexpectedly, before calmly resuming his bite of rice.
(Y/n) felt her cheeks heat up slightly. She hadn't realized he paid attention to that kind of detail.
- You too, Ichikawa-san, she replied softly.
Reno stopped, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He looked at her with what could have been perplexity.
He seemed to seriously consider the question, which made (y/n) smile even more widely.
- When Hibino-senpai does something stupid but courageous, he admitted finally. Which happens often.
- Or when Iharu tries to compete with me and ends up helping me anyway.
- Your teammates mean a lot to you, (y/n) observed.
- They risked their lives for me, he said simply. That's not the kind of thing you forget.
His violet eyes fixed on her.
- That's why I need to become stronger. So I can protect them next time.
(Y/n) then truly understood why Reno trained so hard, why he had accepted the dangerous Numbered Weapon 6. It wasn't out of ambition or desire for glory—it was out of pure and simple loyalty. Out of love for those who had supported him.
- I want to become like you, she said suddenly. Not just strong, but... the kind of person others can rely on without hesitation.
Reno stared at her for a long time, and for the first time, (y/n) saw a real smile—small, almost imperceptible, but undeniably present—touch his lips.
- Then keep showing up at 06:00, he said simply.
It was at that moment that (y/n) realized something had changed. Reno no longer saw her as just a recruit he was training out of a sense of duty. He was beginning to see her as a potential teammate, someone he might, one day, be able to trust on the battlefield.
And for Reno Ichikawa, who didn't give his trust easily, that was already huge.
As they finished their meal in a now comfortable silence, (y/n) told herself that even if the road would be long and difficult, she had found the right guide to walk it. And perhaps, just perhaps, she had also found a true friend.
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The next morning, Kafka showed up at (y/n)'s office fifteen minutes early, sweaty palms and palpable nervousness. He had spent part of the night mentally reviewing everything he knew about Wyvern-type Yoju, terrified of disappointing someone who seemed genuinely interested in his expertise.
He knocked softly on the door.
- Come in, (y/n)'s voice resonated.
The office was surprisingly organized—files perfectly stacked, graphs pinned to the wall with military precision, and a whiteboard covered with diagrams on kaiju attack patterns. (y/n) sat at her desk, focused on her screen, her hair tied in a practical ponytail.
- Hibino-san, punctual, she noted, looking up with a slight smile. I haven't had my coffee yet, so forgive me if I'm a bit... direct.
- Ah no, no problem ! Kafka hastened to respond, entering awkwardly, nearly tripping over a chair leg. I... I brought this.
He pulled out a thermos from his bag with a sheepish smile.
- Coffee from the cafeteria. I thought... well, you know, to make up for yesterday. And besides, working early in the morning without caffeine is hard.
(y/n) blinked, surprised by this simple but thoughtful gesture. She accepted the thermos with an expression betraying certain amusement.
- Thank you. That's... considerate of you.
Kafka scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed by the compliment.
- Well, it's nothing. Just a reflex from when I worked at Monster Sweeper—we always brought coffee to the team leaders before big jobs.
(y/n) poured the coffee into her cup and gestured for Kafka to sit. She spread several satellite photos on the desk—shots of Wyvern formations during the Tachikawa attack.
- Here's what intrigues me, she began, pointing at the images. The Wyverns attacked in coordinated waves, with precise intervals. My calculations suggest they were following a pattern based on thermal currents, but...
- But it's not just that, Kafka interrupted, his enthusiasm taking over before he realized his impoliteness. Oh, sorry ! I didn't mean to cut you off. It's just that...
He leaned over the photos, his eyes lighting up with that characteristic passion he reserved for kaiju.
- Look here, he said, pointing to a particular formation. The Wyverns at the front have wider wings. Those are the alpha females. They use thermal currents, yes, but more importantly, they emit pheromones that guide the others. That's why the intervals are so regular—they're waiting for the chemical signal before attacking.
(y/n) straightened, captivated.
- Pheromones ? I never considered that angle. How do you know ?
Kafka blushed slightly, pleased but embarrassed by the attention.
- After years of cleaning their carcasses, you learn to recognize the glands that produce that stuff. They're located just under the neck scales. When you accidentally open them, the smell is... memorable.
He made a comic grimace that drew a small laugh from (y/n)—a surprising sound coming from an analyst usually so composed.
- You have a very... practical approach to kaiju analysis, she observed. Most analysts have never touched a kaiju in their lives. It's refreshing.
- Yeah, well, that's the advantage of spending a decade scraping their guts, Kafka joked before becoming serious again. But really, (l/n)-san, your theory on thermal currents is brilliant. If we combine that with pheromones, we might be able to predict their attack patterns more precisely.
The next two hours passed in animated exchange. Kafka shared his field observations—the texture of scales, anatomical weak points, behaviors he'd noted over the years—while (y/n) translated all of it into analyzable data, applicable strategies.
At one point, as Kafka was explaining with emphatic gestures how Wyverns fold their wings to dive, he accidentally knocked over (y/n)'s cup, slightly splashing her notes.
- Ah shit ! I'm really sorry ! he exclaimed, frantically grabbing tissues. I'm so clumsy, I...
- Hibino-san, (y/n) calmly interrupted, wiping the papers. It's just coffee. The information is in my head anyway.
She smiled at him—a real smile this time, not just polite.
- You know, you're exactly as Platoon Leader Ikaruga described. Competent, passionate, and completely clumsy as soon as it comes to not knocking things over.
Kafka laughed, relieved she was taking it with humor.
- Ikaruga-san said that ? I hope he mentioned my good sides too...
- He mainly said you were someone reliable, (y/n) replied more seriously. Someone who would do anything to protect his comrades. That's why I was curious to meet you, beyond your mission reports.
Kafka blinked, touched by those words. He lowered his head slightly, embarrassed by the rising emotion.
- I... I just do what anyone would do, he muttered. I just want to be useful, you know ? Prove I belong here.
(y/n) observed his expression—that mixture of determination and insecurity that seemed to define Hibino Kafka. She now understood why so many members of the Third Division spoke of him with affection and respect.
- You've already proven it, Hibino-san, she said simply. Your comrades trust you. That's already a lot.
A comfortable silence settled between them, broken by Kafka's stomach gurgling loudly. He turned bright red.
- Sorry ! I skipped breakfast this morning because I was too nervous and...
(y/n) shook her head, amused by his disarming candor.
- It's almost noon anyway. What would you say to continuing this discussion in the cafeteria ? I'd like to hear your theory on Fungal-type Honju.
- Really ? Kafka's face lit up like a kid's. You really want to keep listening to me talk about kaiju ?
- Consider it a collaboration, (y/p) replied, putting away her notes. Your field observations, my strategic analysis. We could produce something useful for future operations.
As they walked side by side toward the cafeteria, Kafka couldn't help but smile. It was nice to talk with someone who was genuinely interested in his knowledge, without judgment, without excessive expectations.
And (y/n), for her part, realized that Hibino Kafka was exactly the kind of person who made the Defense Force more human—someone authentic, passionate, who genuinely cared about others.
In the cafeteria, Kafka stuffed himself with lunch with remarkable appetite, explaining between bites how Fungal-type spores could be neutralized. (y/n) took notes on her phone, fascinated not only by the information, but also by the way Kafka animated himself while talking.
- And if we ventilate the area before the attack, we can already reduce their reproduction capacity by 60%... Oh, and you should never use water ! It just makes them grow faster.
- You should eat more slowly, she commented with a hint of concern. You're going to choke.
Kafka stopped, a spoon halfway to his mouth, and laughed.
- You sound like Ichikawa now. He always says I eat like a kid.
- Maybe because it's true ? she replied with a teasing smile.
- Hey ! Kafka protested without any conviction, a goofy smile on his face.
At that moment, Kafka's phone vibrated. He pulled it out and his face lit up seeing the name on the screen.
- Oh, it's Ichikawa ! he exclaimed before answering. Hi ! Yeah, I'm at the cafeteria... What ? No, I'm eating normally !
(y/n) raised an amused eyebrow watching Kafka defend himself vehemently against apparently well-founded accusations about his appetite.
- Okay, okay, maybe a bit fast, but... Huh ? Oh yeah, training with Hoshina-san ! Crap, that's this afternoon !
He hung up with a grimace.
- Sorry about that. Ichikawa just wanted to remind me about my training with Vice Captain Hoshina of the Third Division. He sometimes comes to the maritime base for... well, it's a long story.
- You've stayed close to your former Third Division comrades, (y/n) observed.
Kafka's face softened, a nostalgic expression crossing his features.
- Yeah. I miss them, you know. The First Division is great, Captain Narumi is incredible, and Shinomiya is here too, but... the Third was different. That's where I started, where I finally realized my dream.
He scratched the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed at having opened up.
- But hey, I'm happy to be here too ! I mean, working with you is really cool, and...
- Hibino-san, (y/n) gently interrupted. You don't have to justify yourself. It's normal to miss your friends.
Kafka smiled at her gratefully.
- Thanks. Well, I should really go before Hoshina-san comes to get me himself. (l/n)-san, I'm really sorry, I'm going to have to...
- Go ahead, she interrupted with an understanding smile. We've already accomplished a lot this morning. We can continue tomorrow, if you want ?
- Really ? Yes, I'd love to! Same time ?
- Same time. And Hibino-san ? Don't forget your breakfast this time.
As Kafka ran off, an amused smile stretched across (y/n)'s lips. Hibino Kafka was definitely someone special—not because of his powers, but simply because he was authentically, disarmingly human.
And she found herself looking forward to their next work session with anticipation.
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The following days at the Fourth Division base took an unexpected turn for Iharu Furuhashi. After their first meeting in the workshop, he found himself passing by the technology department more often than necessary—always with a prepared excuse, of course.
That morning, he burst into the technology development workshop with two soda cans, his SG-1108 shotgun slung over his shoulder and his characteristic smile showing his pointed teeth.
- Yo ! he said, setting a can on the workbench where (y/n) was leaning over a complex diagram. I thought you could use some fuel. Consider it a reward for having had the chance to meet someone like me.
She looked up, amused by his boldness.
- "The chance" ? You keep bringing me stuff, Furuhashi. This is the third time this week.
- So what ? he protested, puffing out his chest, his ego well present. An elite officer like me has the right to be generous. Besides, you know I reached 88% power release recently ? Instantaneous peak, obviously. Captain Ogata says I'm a unique case.
(y/n) rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling.
- Obviously. How could I forget ? You remind me every visit.
- It's important to remember landmark facts, Iharu retorted with a wink. So, that drone ? Did you figure out why it exploded or do you need my insights ?
- "Your insights" ? (y/n) crossed her arms, challenging him with her gaze. I'll have you know that I'M the technology expert here.
- Yeah, but I'm the best shooter of my class, he countered immediately. Well, after Reno maybe, but only because he has that rigged Numbers Weapon. His tone had become slightly tense. On equal ground, I'd beat him with my eyes closed.
(y/n) observed this subtle change—the way his jaw had clenched when mentioning Reno.
- Do you really think that ?
- Obviously ! I don't think it, I KNOW it. Iharu gesticulated with emphasis. I was valedictorian at Hachioji Technical School. The best at everything. Sports, studies, combat. Teachers cited me as an example. So yeah, if I had a Numbers Weapon too, I'd already be at 60%, easy.
- But you don't have one, (y/n) calmly pointed out.
- For now. But just wait. I'm going to blow away all the records with my unique combat style. Captain Ogata himself said I had potential to surpass Reno if I master my techniques.
There was silence. (y/n) put down her pencil and stood up to face him.
- You know what I noticed analyzing your training data ?
- That I'm incredible ? Iharu tried with a provocative smile.
- That you're exhausting, she corrected, but her tone wasn't mean. Your release rate is a roller coaster. 24% to 42% in a few seconds, then drops. You fight like you have something to prove every instant.
- Because I do ! Iharu exclaimed, his confidence wavering slightly. That's how you progress. By constantly surpassing yourself. By being better than...
He stopped abruptly, realizing he was saying too much.
- Better than who ? (y/n) pressed gently.
- Than everyone ! he answered too quickly, catching himself with his usual bravado. That's my goal. To become the best officer in the Defense Force. Not second, not third. THE best.
(y/n) stared at him for a moment, then returned to her workbench.
- You know what I see in your data ? A Flash Adapter. The third documented case.
- I already know all that, Iharu interrupted impatiently. The Captain explained it to me. My brain works differently, blah blah blah. It just means I'm special.
- It means you're comparing yourself to people who function completely differently from you, (y/n) corrected. Ichikawa is stability and precision. You're explosion and instinct. You're not even in the same category.
Iharu snickered, but something in his gaze betrayed his discomfort.
- Pfff. You trying to make me feel better ? That's cute, but I don't need pity.
- This isn't pity, (y/n) replied sharply. It's a fact. I read the report on your Honju mission. You broke ice with your bare hands and exposed the core so Ichikawa could finish the job.
- Yeah, so what ? Iharu muttered, looking away. It was the most logical plan.
- The most logical plan would have been to call for reinforcements, not charge headfirst with injuries. (y/n) looked at him intently. You risked your life for him.
- Because he's my teammate, Iharu said with a hint of annoyance. That's what we do in a team. Nothing extraordinary about that.
But his voice lacked its usual conviction. (y/n) noticed.
- You want to know what I really think ? She unfolded her diagrams on the workbench. I think you're so busy comparing yourself to others that you don't see your own value. So I decided to do something.
Iharu frowned, suspicious.
- This. She tapped the diagrams. I'm working on a modification for your SG-1108. A system that adapts to your Flash Adapter style instead of restraining it.
- Wait, seriously ? You're working on MY equipment ?
- Don't get too excited. It's just an interesting technical challenge. (y/n) shrugged. Your chaotic style intrigues me. It's like trying to tame a controlled explosion.
- Chaotic ? Iharu repeated, offended. I prefer "unpredictable" or "innovative."
- Chaotic, (y/n) maintained with a small smile. But in a good way. Look at these calculations—your 42% peak lasts an average of 3.7 seconds before dropping. If I can create a system that capitalizes on those peaks rather than trying to stabilize them...
Despite himself, Iharu approached, fascinated. His ego was flattered that she was dedicating so much effort to analyzing his style.
- And you think that would make me stronger than Reno ? he asked, unable to resist.
- This isn't a competition, Furuhashi.
- Everything is a competition, he countered automatically. That's how we improve.
- Or that's how we exhaust ourselves trying to be someone we're not.
Silence fell, slightly tense. Iharu ran a hand through his disheveled pink hair, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.
- Look, listen, he finally said, his tone becoming lighter, almost defensive. I am who I am, okay ? If that bothers you...
- It doesn't bother me, (y/n) interrupted. It's just tiring to see you fighting yourself all the time.
- I'm not fighting myself, Iharu protested. I'm fighting to become better.
- It's the same thing if you refuse to accept who you are now.
Iharu stared at her, destabilized by her frankness. Nobody talked to him like that—either people challenged him directly, or they admired his surface attitude. But (y/n) saw through it, and that made him uncomfortable.
- You're really annoying, you know ? he let out, but without real animosity.
- I've been told." (y/n) returned to her diagrams. Now, are you helping me with these calculations or continuing to complain ?
Iharu hesitated, torn between his desire to flee this uncomfortable conversation and his curiosity about the project. Finally, his stubborn side won out.
- Tss. Show me. But I'm warning you, if your system doesn't make me at least 15% more efficient, I'll tease you for weeks.
- Deal, (y/n) accepted with a smile.
They set to work side by side. At first, Iharu couldn't help but comment on every calculation, propose modifications with emphasis, recall his own exploits at every opportunity. But gradually, as they delved into the technical details, something changed.
Iharu realized he genuinely enjoyed this moment—not because he was proving something, not because he was winning a competition, but simply because it was... pleasant. (y/n) didn't treat him as a rival or a threat. She treated him as an equal, with his strengths and flaws.
- Hey, (l/n), he suddenly said, an impulse pushing him to act before overthinking. You want to grab dinner together tonight ? There's a place in town that makes the best takoyaki.
She looked up, surprised.
- Is this an invitation to go out, Furuhashi ?
Iharu felt his cheeks heat slightly—a rare and embarrassing reaction.
- It's just... two colleagues hanging out together, he stammered, momentarily losing his confidence. You know, to celebrate this awesome collaboration on my equipment. Because clearly, with my ideas and your technical expertise, we're going to create something revolutionary.
He clung to his ego like a lifeline.
(y/n) observed him for a moment, amused by his sudden awkwardness.
- Okay. But on one condition.
- Which one ? Iharu asked, suspicious.
- You stop mentioning Ichikawa every five minutes. Just for one evening, can you be Iharu without comparing yourself to anyone ?
Iharu opened his mouth to protest, then reconsidered. It was... harder than he'd thought. Not measuring himself against others had become so automatic.
- I... I can try, he finally conceded, almost reluctantly. But I'm warning you, I'm the stubborn type. And talkative. And I probably talk too much about myself.
- I'd noticed, (y/n) said with a smirk. But it's okay. At least you're honest about it.
- Obviously I'm honest ! Iharu exclaimed, regaining some of his verve. I'm full of qualities. Honesty is just one among many.
(y/n) burst out laughing, and Iharu found himself smiling—a real smile, not his usual confident grin.
- 7 PM at the main gate ? she proposed.
- Yeah. And get ready, because I know ALL the best spots in the city. Valedictorian, remember ? I also excelled in local geography.
- Of course you did, (y/n) sighed, but her tone was affectionate.
As Iharu left the workshop a few minutes later, he felt... strange. Not victorious, not frustrated, just... light. As if, for a few hours, he'd been able to lower his guard slightly without the world collapsing.
But of course, he'd never admit it out loud. He had a reputation to maintain, after all.
On his way to the dorms, he crossed paths with Reno in the hallway. Instinctively, Iharu puffed out his chest.
- Yo, Reno ! My peak rate increased again today. You better not rest on your laurels with your Numbers Weapon !
Reno looked at him with his usual neutral expression.
No competition, no challenge. Just a simple compliment. Iharu felt almost disappointed, then... relieved ? He wasn't sure anymore.
- Yeah, well... keep training hard, he muttered before walking away quickly.
Once alone in his room, Iharu collapsed on his bed and stared at the ceiling. His thoughts drifted to (y/p), to their conversation, to the way she challenged him differently from others.
- You fight against yourself.
- Nonsense, he muttered into the void.
But deep down, a small voice—which he'd been trying to ignore for months—whispered that she might be right.
He shook his head violently.
- Whatever. I'm going to become the best anyway. It's just a matter of time and effort.
And yet, as he prepared for the evening, Iharu found himself smiling thinking about takoyaki and the company of someone who didn't see him as a rival or a sidekick.
It was... new. And not unpleasant.
Even if, obviously, he'd never admit it.
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And there you have it ! Second chapter complete 📖
Yes, I know, this one is a bit longer than the first ! I hope it didn't exhaust you too much and that you enjoyed these moments of budding friendship 💫
I really wanted to explore how these relationships evolve beyond first impressions. Soshiro who continues to tease but reveals his true nature as a mentor beneath his casual mask, Gen who literally transforms (y/p)'s lab into an annex of his bedroom (poor Hasegawa 😅), Reno in his constancy and silent loyalty, Kafka who finally shares his passion with someone who truly listens, and Iharu discovering that you can exist without constantly comparing yourself to others...
Personal aside from your voluntary pigeon: Yes, I've read all the Kaiju No. 8 scans, but I still bought both volumes of Kaiju No. 8: B-Side and I REGRET NOTHING. Sure, for Soshiro, we didn't get as much new info about his past, BUT Gen Narumi's background ? Chef's kiss 👌 Being able to finally understand this character we only see in the main series, having access to his story, completely changes the perception we have of him and it's so satisfying ! Plus, the artwork is always gorgeous.
Also, I caved and got the first two volumes of Kaiju No. 8 (even though yes, I've already read everything in scans, I know, I'm hopeless 😂) and I plan to buy all the volumes as they come out. And now, I'm waiting with undisguised impatience for the English translation of Kaiju No. 8 Relax whose first volume should come out in December if I'm not mistaken ! 🎄
The next chapter will be titled "First Signs of Attraction"—you see where I'm going with this ? Things are going to start getting emotionally complicated for our protagonists... 👀💕
Tell me what you thought of this chapter ! Which interaction touched you the most ? Which character do you want to see develop their relationship with (y/n) further ?
Your feedback means so much to me and motivates me to continue !
See you for the next one ! ✨
