The corridors of Company 8 were buzzing in their usual way—voices echoing, boots thudding across metal walkways, steam hissing from pipes that never seemed to stop creaking. Morning drills were in full swing, which explained the steady rhythm of shouted orders bouncing off the walls.

And in the middle of all that noise, you stepped inside holding Hinawa’s phone and locker keys, dangling from your hand like the incriminating evidence of your husband’s one rare slip-up.

You hadn’t even reached the second set of doors when Captain Ōbi spotted you. His expression flickered between amusement and sympathy—the kind only a man who had witnessed Hinawa’s reaction to forgetting equipment could wear.

“With how frantic he was searching for those this morning,” Ōbi murmured as he approached, “I’m guessing he has absolutely no idea you’re on your way.”

“Oh, he doesn’t,” you sighed. “He tore apart the house looking for them and then ran out the door before I could even tell him where they were. Again.”

Ōbi chuckled. “I’ll keep the others occupied. Try not to shock them too badly—most of the rookies are still convinced he reproduces asexually.”

You snorted and continued down the hall.

The moment you stepped into the main training area, the noise dipped. Shinra was mid-kick, Arthur was mid-argument, Maki was mid-intimidating both—and they all paused simultaneously when they saw you.

“Uh… Lieutenant? We have a civilian?” Shinra whispered, as if you couldn’t hear him clearly from ten feet away.

Hinawa, standing near the target range with clipboard in hand, didn’t look up until the others stared directly at him. When he finally followed their gaze toward you, his shoulders stiffened with military precision.

“…Why are you here?” he asked in that flat, deceptively calm tone—one you knew masked a dozen rapid-fire calculations behind his eyes.

You held up the phone and keys. “You forgot these.”

A long silence followed. Arthur mouthed something like Oh she’s pretty and was immediately elbowed by Maki.

Hinawa strode toward you with quick, controlled steps, stopping just close enough that your fingers brushed when he took the items from your hand. His eyes softened—barely, but unmistakably.

“…Thank you,” he said quietly, the warmth in his voice a private thing meant only for you.

Shinra squinted. “Wait… she brought Lieutenant Hinawa’s stuff… and Lieutenant Hinawa is being nice? Like, NICE nice.”

Maki gasped. Arthur pointed dramatically. Iris blinked in polite confusion.

Ōbi wandered in casually, clearly enjoying himself. “Everyone, this is—”

“My wife,” Hinawa said before the captain could finish, his tone clipped, factual, and delivered with all the emotional inflection of reading a mission report.

The room went dead silent.

Arthur dropped his sword. Shinra’s foot erupted in nervous flames. Maki somehow destroyed a dumbbell she wasn’t even holding. Iris covered her mouth so delicately you almost laughed.

“Wife?!” they all shouted in chaotic unison.

Hinawa adjusted his glasses with that infuriating calm that made the whole room spiral harder. “Yes. Married. For over a year.”

Captain Ōbi clapped Shinra on the back, nearly knocking him over. “I did warn you all you’d be surprised.”

Hinawa turned back to you, the barest hint of embarrassment coloring his ears—as close to flustered as he would ever allow himself to appear in public.

“I apologize for the trouble,” he said softly. “I should have been more careful.”

“You were half-asleep,” you reminded him. “And sprinting.”

He cleared his throat. “Still.”

Behind him, the entire squad whispered like they were witnessing some kind of forbidden miracle.

You smiled up at him. “I’ll head home. Try not to forget your entire locker next time.”

Hinawa’s gaze softened again—so subtly only you caught it. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

The squad exploded. Ōbi just laughed.

And Hinawa—stoic, disciplined, impossible Hinawa—followed you out with the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.