The rubble of Kawasaki still smoked, the acrid stench of charred kaiju flesh clinging to the night air. Searchlights cut across ruined streets, slicing long shadows through the haze. Soldiers stood rigid, rifles raised, every barrel locked on one figure in the center.
Akira Kurogiri.
He stood with his blade loosely at his side, the scorched pavement glowing faintly beneath the heat of his fight. His breathing was shallow, each inhale rattling against his ribs, but his gaze was steady—defiant.
Across from him, Soushiro Hoshina rolled his shoulders, twin blades hanging easy in his hands. His crooked grin belied the sharpness in his eyes. Mina Ashiro, the Third Division's captain, stood a half-step ahead, her white coat gleaming in the floodlights. Byakko prowled at her flank, its low growl reverberating through the ground.
Mina had already stopped Soushiro once. No engagement, she had said. But her order hadn't lessened the hunger in her vice-captain's stance.
And it hadn't softened the circle of rifles around Akira.
Soushiro's Doubt
Soushiro's grin deepened as he stepped forward, boots crunching against shattered stone. "Captain, with all due respect… look at him. You really think this kid is human?"
Mina's voice was even. "He killed the kaiju."
"He survived the kaiju," Soushiro corrected, his tone hardening. He twirled one blade, the violet edge humming as it caught the floodlight. "Broken bones, punctured lungs—he should be a corpse. But here he is, standing tall. I've been in this job too long to believe that's normal."
[Ravan: Analysis. Subject Soushiro Hoshina—Liberation Force 92%. Combat reflexes: sub-millisecond. Threat rating—lethal. Probability of engagement: 71%.]
Akira's lip curled faintly. He whispered under his breath, "Always with the odds…"
Kikoru heard it again—the muttering. The same low whisper he'd spoken in previous battles, words meant for no one, yet deliberate. Her grip on her rifle tightened.
Soushiro angled his blade toward Akira, the grin never leaving his face. "Go on, kid. Heal one more wound in front of us. Show me how 'human' you really are."
Akira's Retort
Akira slowly pulled the steel rod embedded in his side, blood welling fresh against the wound. Gasps rippled through the soldiers. He let the blood drip freely, then dropped the metal to the ground with a clang.
His expression was calm, almost bored. "Satisfied?"
The gash sealed itself slowly, flesh knitting together beneath scorched fabric.
Soushiro's smirk vanished. "You—"
Akira cut him off, voice sharp and cold. "Never seen it, so it doesn't exist? Is that how your Defense Force works? You see something you can't explain, and you put it in a cage?"
The words hit harder than any blade.
Kafka and Reno
Kafka lurched forward, sweat beading on his brow. "Akira—stop! You're making it worse!" His voice cracked with panic. "They're not your enemy. Just—just work with them for once, damn it!"
But Akira didn't even glance at him. His eyes were locked on Soushiro, on Mina, on the wall of distrust closing in.
Reno, however, raised his pistol higher. His voice was taut, edged with both fear and conviction. "You think anyone can just take your word for it? That you're human because you say so? You're a walking contradiction, Akira. The more you deny it, the more you look like one of them."
Akira's gaze flicked to him, cold and cutting. "Proof doesn't erase fear. Even if I bled human blood, you'd still pull that trigger the moment I moved too fast. Trust doesn't live in evidence—it dies in instinct."
Reno faltered, finger trembling against the trigger. His jaw clenched, but no words came.
Mina's Patience
Mina stepped forward, Byakko's heavy frame pacing in sync with her. Her presence drew the eyes of every soldier, a calm gravity that stilled the tremor of nerves.
"Enough." Her tone cut clean through the night. She leveled her gaze at Akira. "You are not on trial for existing. You are being asked to confirm your humanity. If you are human, you will undergo examination. If not… you will be treated as a threat."
Her words were law—measured, final.
Akira smirked faintly, but his eyes were shadowed. "And who decides the result of your 'examination'? You? Him?" His chin jerked toward Soushiro. "No matter what the outcome, suspicion won't vanish. Once you put me in that box, I'll never walk out as anything but a monster in your eyes."
Byakko's growl deepened, claws scraping sparks against the pavement.
[Ravan: Host emotional spikes rising. Cortisol surge detected. Recommend: strategic withdrawal or controlled escalation.]
Akira muttered under his breath, "Not really the time for lectures."
Kikoru Steps Forward
The tension stretched, brittle as glass. Then Kikoru moved.
She dropped from the kaiju's carcass and strode across the rubble, planting herself squarely between Akira and the soldiers' guns. Her voice rang out, sharp and furious.
"Stop it! All of you!"
Dozens of rifles wavered, muzzles twitching uncertainly as she spread her arms.
She turned her glare on Mina first. "If you want proof, use me. I fought beside him. I saw him bleed, struggle, fight. He is human."
"Kikoru," Mina warned, her voice quiet but heavy.
But Kikoru didn't back down. "If you don't trust him, then you don't trust me either. So go ahead—tell my father his daughter can't tell a kaiju from a comrade. Tell him his heir sided with a monster."
The soldiers froze. Even Soushiro hesitated, his grin faltering.
Cracks in the Circle
Kafka scrambled to her side, throwing his arms wide in frantic support. "She's right! Look, Akira's reckless, but he's saved our asses more than once. He fought for us tonight, not against us. Doesn't that matter?"
The ring of rifles wavered. Some soldiers lowered their weapons an inch.
Reno was last. He stood rigid, gun still raised, face twisted in conflict. Finally, with a sharp hiss of breath, he jerked the barrel away, lowering it reluctantly.
"…Damn it. I still don't buy it. But I won't be the one to start this fight."
Soushiro's eyes flickered between them all—Kafka's desperation, Kikoru's defiance, Reno's reluctant concession. His smirk returned, sharper now, but his tone was edged with warning.
"You three really are willing to bet your lives on this kid? Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you when he finally snaps."
The Boiling Point
Byakko prowled another step forward, its massive frame casting long shadows. The beast's golden eyes never left Akira, as if reading the tension coiled in his stance.
Akira slowly lifted his sword, tip scraping faintly against the pavement. His legs trembled with exhaustion, but his gaze burned brighter than the floodlights around him.
"You want me to walk into your cage? Then prove you deserve to call yourselves humanity's shield. Show me why I should trust you."
The street held its breath. Soldiers braced, fingers tightening on triggers. Soushiro tilted his blade, eager. Kikoru and Kafka stood firm in front of Akira, shields of conviction against the tide. Reno clenched his fists, torn between orders and instinct.
[Ravan: Critical alert. Probability of hostile engagement: 96%. Host survival if surrounded—12%. Recommend extreme caution.]
Akira smirked faintly. "Yeah. Figures."
The night crackled with the promise of blood, the tension so thick it felt like a storm about to break.
And in that fragile heartbeat, everyone knew—Mina Ashiro would have to make a choice.
This story is inspired from various fanfics i have read from around the world so if you find any similarities please dont mind . Thank you
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T/N :
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