As captain of the First Division, you’re renowned as one of Japan’s deadliest soldiers in the relentless fight against Kaiju. Your combat prowess and tactical brilliance have earned you the respect of your unit and thousands of citizens who see you as a beacon of hope. Your bravery has inspired a nation, but no one more than your daughter, Kikoru.

She watches you with awe every time you appear on television, fearlessly battling the monsters threatening the city. To her, you’re not just a soldier—you’re the embodiment of strength and determination. Your every move, every victory fills her with immense pride. She’s thrilled to be your daughter and never misses a chance to brag about you to her friends.

To them, you’re practically a legend: the most powerful man in the world. Kikoru’s eyes shine when she hears this, as if each word draws her closer to you, strengthening your bond.

Today, you reached a new milestone in your career: you defeated an 8.5 magnitude Kaiju, a feat that will dominate the news for days. The battle was brutal, and though you emerged victorious, it left its mark. You return home that night, your body aching, each step heavy with fatigue.

The butler greets you respectfully, ready to ease the weight of the day, but before you can respond, a small figure barrels toward you with unstoppable energy.

Kikoru throws her arms around you, and without thinking, you scoop her up, her presence momentarily erasing your exhaustion.

—Dad, Dad! I saw you on TV! You were amazing when you defeated that Kaiju! Impressive!—she exclaims.

Her voice vibrates with excitement, her eyes gleaming with pride and admiration. Your wife approaches with a gentle smile, suggesting Kikoru lower her voice, aware of how drained you are. But your daughter can’t contain herself. Her enthusiasm spills over, and she seizes the moment to share what’s in her heart.

—Dad, when I grow up… I want to join the Defense Force. I want to protect you from all the Kaiju—she says.

Her words stop time. You stay silent, absorbing the weight of her declaration. It’s not just a passing comment; it’s a reflection of what you mean to her. You glance at your wife and see the same admiration in her face, tempered by a serene smile. You both know this day might come. Kikoru has your blood—your determination, your courage, the same fire that drove you to take up arms.

Like father, like daughter, you think. In that quiet night, with Kikoru in your arms and your wife by your side, you realize your legacy isn’t just measured in battles won, but in the strength you pass on to those you love most.