The fruit basket Kafka had awkwardly placed on the side table looked almost out of place in the sterile hospital room. Glossy apples and a carton of grape juice beside Akira Kurogiri's untouched soup—like someone had mistaken the recovery ward for a picnic.
Kafka fussed with the basket as if it needed arranging. "I thought it'd brighten things up. You know, a little color in all this white."
Akira smirked faintly, leaning against his pillow. "Touching. You're one ribbon short of a proper get-well bouquet."
Reno snorted from the corner, arms crossed, eyes never leaving him. "He's right, senpai. That thing's wasted here. He's already healing faster than any normal patient."
Kikoru Shinomiya stiffened where she sat by the window. Her golden twin-tails caught the sunlight as she turned sharply. "You noticed it too?"
The temperature in the room dropped. Reno's suspicion, Kikoru's scrutiny, Kafka's nervous energy—Akira felt it all pressing against him like a vice.
[Ravan: Observation—group suspicion level elevated. Host performance under surveillance. Suggest misdirection.]
Akira's smirk didn't falter. "What can I say? I'm a fast learner. Guess the hospital food has miracle properties."
Kafka laughed too quickly, eager to ease the tension. "See? Nothing weird about it. Kurogiri just bounces back, that's all. He's young. Unlike me."
"'Young' doesn't explain catching Shinomiya's punch bare-handed," Reno cut in, his sharp gaze drilling into Akira. "Or the way you moved in Kawasaki like you'd done it a hundred times before."
Akira tilted his head, meeting Reno's stare calmly. "So what are you asking, Ichikawa? Do I look like a kaiju to you?"
Reno's jaw tightened. For a moment, the room buzzed with the weight of unspoken accusations.
Then Kikoru slammed her palm on the desk, breaking the silence. "Enough. This isn't the time for pointless guessing. You all heard the reports about last night."
Kafka's smile faltered. "…Yeah."
The lightness bled from the room. Even Reno's suspicion shifted to something heavier.
Akira leaned forward. "Tell me."
Kafka exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "The cleanup this morning… it wasn't like the usual aftermath. That unicorn-type kaiju—it didn't just destroy buildings or crush people in the chaos. It… it ate them."
Reno's voice was low, flat. "Flesh and blood. Not collateral damage. Prey."
The words hung in the sterile air like smoke.
Kikoru's hands tightened around her knees. "The Defense Force officers who fought it said the same. By the time they arrived, it had already swallowed dozens. Civilians, workers… even parts of the corpses were missing when we found them."
Her voice was steady, but the pallor in her cheeks betrayed her. "Monsters kill. They trample, burn, smash—but eating people? That crosses a line."
[Ravan: Analysis—anomaly confirmed. Standard kaiju behavior = indiscriminate destruction. Consumption of human tissue indicates adaptive mutation. Probability of escalation in future encounters: 89%.]
Akira's smirk faded into something harder. So it begins.
Kafka slumped into the chair beside the bed, face shadowed. "I thought I'd seen everything in cleanup. But that sight… it won't leave me. Half-chewed bones, uniforms stripped clean—it felt like the kaiju wasn't just attacking. It was feeding."
For once, Reno didn't fire back with cynicism. His fists clenched silently at his sides.
Akira broke the silence, voice even. "Then it deserves extra bullets."
Kikoru glanced at him, startled.
He met her gaze calmly. "A monster that feeds on people isn't just a disaster. It's a predator. And predators don't stop until they're put down."
[Ravan: Advisory—host displays increased aggression response. Recommend channeling rhetoric to reinforce group trust.]
Akira let his words linger, then softened his tone. "The Defense Force will adapt. They always do. What matters is whether we're ready when the next one appears."
Kafka straightened slightly, clinging to the reassurance. Reno, though, wasn't convinced.
"You talk like you already know what's coming," he said sharply. "Like you've seen it before."
Akira held his gaze without blinking. "Call it instinct."
[Ravan: Suggest deflection. Probability of Ichikawa pressing further = 72%.]
Akira leaned back, smirk tugging faintly. "Or maybe I just watch too many horror movies."
Reno exhaled, irritated but unwilling to push further with Kikoru and Kafka present.
The room lapsed into uneasy quiet until Kafka forced a laugh, rubbing his stomach. "Man, I should've brought ramen instead of fruit. Talking about monsters eating people makes me hungry in the worst way."
Even Kikoru blinked, faintly exasperated. "How can you joke at a time like this?"
"Because if I don't, I'll lose my nerve," Kafka admitted quietly.
His honesty settled the air in a strange way.
Akira studied him, then spoke deliberately. "That's not weakness, Kafka. That's heart. Don't lose it."
Kafka blinked, caught off guard, then smiled sheepishly. "…Thanks."
[Ravan: Social bond strengthening. Ichikawa—status: suspicion tempered by rivalry. Hibino—status: morale boosted. Shinomiya—status: conflict unresolved, tension stable.]
Akira smirked faintly. Good. Pieces were moving into place.
Beyond the reinforced door, Soushiro Hoshina leaned against the wall, grinning as he listened through the earpiece. "Hear that, Captain? The kid talks like he's leading already."
Mina Ashiro stood a few steps away, arms folded, her gaze fixed on the sealed window where Akira's silhouette shifted faintly. Her eyes were cool, unreadable.
"Leadership or manipulation," she said quietly. "Either way, he's dangerous."
Hoshina's grin widened. "Then maybe danger's what we need. These new kaiju mutations won't play by the old rules."
Mina didn't answer. Her silence was heavier than words.
Back inside, Reno finally pushed off the wall, his voice clipped. "You saved us once, Kurogiri. That doesn't erase my doubts. But…" He paused, eyes hardening with resolve. "…I'm not going to let you outpace me."
Akira chuckled softly. "Then keep running, Ichikawa. I don't slow down."
Their gazes locked, sharp and unyielding. Rivalry burned, but beneath it, the first sparks of trust glimmered.
Kafka groaned dramatically, standing. "Oi, oi, enough with the staring contest. Save it for the exam. Or at least for after Akira's off the drip."
The tension cracked. Even Kikoru huffed faintly, though she tried to hide it.
Akira leaned back once more, eyes half-lidded, letting their voices fade. Outside, the world was already shifting—monsters that no longer killed blindly, but fed with purpose.
[Ravan: System forecast—evolutionary pattern accelerating. Flesh-eating behavior = stage one of adaptive cycle. Anticipate escalation.]
Akira closed his eyes, lips curling faintly. "Then let it escalate."
Because he would too.
From the monitoring room deep within HQ, Mina Ashiro finally turned from the screen. "Prepare extended surveillance on Kurogiri. If these kaiju are changing, we cannot afford to misjudge him."
Hoshina's grin lingered as he twirled his sheathed blade. "Don't worry, Captain. If the kid really is a monster… I'll be the first to cut him down."
The sirens outside wailed faintly in the distance, a reminder that the world was already trembling.
And in the sterile hospital ward, Akira Kurogiri smirked into the silence, listening to Ravan's hum.
The storm was only beginning.
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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