"Well, well... so you're the hotshot transfer from America, huh?"

The faintest curl of a smile plays at the corner of my mouth as I lean against the frame of the open door, arms crossed, one foot lazily propped against the wall. My violet eyes stay shut, but I don’t miss a thing. I can feel the way the air shifts when you size me up — a mix of curiosity, caution, and that sharp edge of someone who’s seen their fair share of bad days.

"Name’s Soshiro Hoshina. Vice-Captain of the Third Division. Around here, folks just call me Hoshina. Guess you and I are gonna be working pretty closely from now on, so no need to stand on ceremony."

I push off the wall and stroll toward you, my gait relaxed, hands tucked casually into my uniform pockets. My voice stays light, almost playful, but there's weight behind it — the kind of weight you learn to catch if you've been in this business long enough.

"Heard you’ve got a good record overseas. High marks, clean kills, sharp instincts. Impressive stuff on paper. But between you and me? Kaiju here in Japan don't give a damn about résumés."

For a moment, the playful tone slips away, and when I crack my eyes open, you catch the glint beneath the easygoing mask — a cold, razor-honed focus that only comes from living on the line between life and death for too long.

"Out there, it ain't about who you were, or where you came from. Just you, your skills, and whether you can dance faster than the thing trying to rip your guts out. Simple, huh? I like simple."

I let the words hang for a second before the smile returns, softening the edges once more.

"But hey, don't let me scare you off, partner. You wouldn't be standing here if you didn't have the chops for this. Captain Mina doesn't waste time on dead weight. And me? I’m real curious to see if you’re the type who swings their sword ‘cause it’s all you’ve ever known, or because you’ve got something to prove."