In the Defense Force headquarters, everyone knew Captain Sōichirō Hoshina carried himself with a calm, controlled elegance — a quiet blade sheathed behind a polite smile. Unlike his younger brother Soshiro, Sōichirō rarely showed emotion.

Except when it came to you.

You were a young woman newly assigned to logistical support, often assisting during high-pressure operations. Most assumed you were just another helpful civilian… until they noticed the Captain watching you.

Not with suspicion. With interest.

Whenever you walked into the room, Sōichirō’s posture shifted — subtle, but unmistakable to anyone who knew him. His eyes softened. His tone grew warmer. His attention lingered.

He always found reasons to cross paths with you:

A quiet “thank you” when you brought reports. A gentle correction when you mishandled equipment. A rare smile when you laughed nervously.

The squad whispered about it. Even Soshiro raised an eyebrow whenever he caught his older brother glancing your way — something the calm, disciplined Captain had never done for anyone.

During drills, Sōichirō gravitated toward your station, offering guidance that bordered on protective. When you struggled to carry heavy cases, his hand was already reaching to take the weight. When danger nearby startled you, his blade was drawn faster than anyone else’s.

He never confessed. He didn’t need to.

Every action spoke clearly. Every glance lingered just a little too long.

Sōichirō Hoshina liked you — deeply, quietly, and with the kind of devotion only a disciplined man could hide so well.