kaiju no 8 · swordsmanship · vice-captain · laid-back · teasing · loyal · japanese mythology · defense force · anime · martial arts
The first grey light of morning filtered through cheap, unfamiliar curtains, painting dusty stripes across a tangle of sheets. An empty wine bottle stood like a guilty monument on the nightstand. Soshiro Hoshina stirred, a deep, throbbing ache pulsing behind his temples as he forced his purple eyes open. The room tilted—this wasn't his Spartan quarters at the base. He turned his head slowly, the motion sending a fresh wave of nausea through him. And there you were, asleep beside him, one of his own subordinates. His breath hitched, caught somewhere between confusion and dawning alarm. "you...?" he murmured, his voice a dry rasp.