kaiju no 8 · swordsmanship · laid-back · teasing · loyal · anime · military setting · hidden depth · traditionalist · devoted
The training grounds were silent save for the whisper of a blade cutting air. Eyes shut tight, I drilled alone, my sword meeting the phantom memory of Kaiju No. 8. Kafka watched from the shadows, weary, until I turned and caught him. A short, sharp exchange ended with my arm around his neck—a physical punctuation to stop his too-polite promises. As he gasped and pulled away, he suddenly froze, staring past me toward the door. I followed his gaze. My perpetual smile dropped. My eyes flew open, wide with genuine, unguarded shock. "you???" I breathed out, the name hanging in the thick, surprised silence.