Training of Fuuko, an i my me! strawberry eggs fanfic

With a start, they realize that the place is going up like it was

doused in oil, the little fire started by the fortune-teller's candle having

spread rapidly.

The fortune-teller cuts and runs, the girl and her teacher following

after a few seconds' shock.

With a groan and crack, part of the ceiling falls, causing the two to

pull up short.

Fuuko grabs her teacher, and whimpers a little. A crackle accompanies

another piece of ceiling, and the teacher

throws herself over her student.

Sensei, sensei, sensei,' Fuuko calls, collapsed on the floor under

the much taller woman, then she coughs a little at the smoke, and forces

herself to her feet, her hands pulling Hibiki up by her armpits, she tries to

drag the much larger woman out of the room, Sensei!'

Kuzuha,' Hibiki manages, weakly.

Sensei!'

Kuzuha, you can't carry me, go on, get out of here, Kuzuha,' Hibiki

orders.

I won't leave you,' Fuuko says, falling onto her butt.

Kuzuha.'

I can't,' Fuuko says, I can't leave here without you,' and gathers

her as best she can into her arms, the flames rising, the smoke escaping

quickly, so they're not suffocating, and will be conscious when the flames get

to them.

Kuzuha, why . . . ' Hibiki falls unconscious, bleeding slowly.

Sensei, this time I'll protect you,' Fuuko says, stroking her hair,

worried, gathering her strength, Because I understand now, even though you're

a woman, no matter what people will say, or if you think I'm a pervert,' she

pauses a moment, Even then, even then, I love you.'

Fuuko pauses another moment, then forces herself to her feet, her

teacher dragged with her, her left arm held over her shoulder by its slack

wrist, the fingers of Fuuko's other hand already straining to maintain their

hold around Hibiki's body.

A repetitive rattle, sort of like a jackhammer, and the flames die,

gasping and sparking in protest. Fuuko blinks in disbelief, smiles, and

staggers out with her teacher.

She looks down at the dirty, battered face of Amawa Hibiki, who'd come

to save her, and nearly died for it, and knows deep in her guts that the last

few day's worry about it had been futile. She was in love with this woman,

and that was fine.

Sensei is in the hospital, they chased me out, said I could come back

in an hour or two, but I should go clean up, and I need to apologize to

Gochiso's Bra Man. He doesn't deserve the crap I've been giving him, any more

than I'll deserve the crap I'm sure to get from far too many people. Not as

many as there would have been ten years ago, but still too many.

I'd washed, changed, walked back here quickly, and now I'm dithering

in the yard. I'll have to just head back to the hospital at this rate.

I step into the genkan, close the door behind me, and call,

Sumimasen!'

No one answers.

Sumimasen!'

No one answers.

I dither a little more, then decide I'll write him a note, and leave

it in his room, Ojamashimasu!' I call, and step up, shedding my shoes.

This room must be Mori's.

I recognize Kochi's name, and am tempted to look in to see if he still

has Kuzuha stuffed toys. I decide not to check, since he might.

Black grease on the doorframe, so it's probably Old Lady Ruru's room.

I still can't believe she made her motorcycle into a robot, and saved us.

Last occupied room, that's the dog that's always with him. The sign

says Amawa Hibiki. I open his door, and blink. That looks like sensei's . .

. so does that. I look at the bookshelves. Something's on top of the books,

just over my head . . . pictures. Pictures of me and Sensei, and a few of

Sensei and her other students.

The desk yields a few papers to be graded. I recognize the names.

Thump I pull my knees up close, and put my head on them.

So, you know now?' asks Ruru from the doorway.

I turn, she's almost the same height as I am, when I'm sitting on the

floor like this, Know what?'

That your teacher wanted to teach so desperately that he agreed to

let me show him how to be a woman.'

Why?'

Because your principal won't hire men.'

Why would you propose such a thing?'

Because Hibiki-kun was desperate, and I can't stand that woman's

policies.'

Why would she go along with it? Why didn't she tell . . . ' I trail

off, knowing why.

Do you really need me to answer that?'

No,' I stand, straighten Sensei's desk a little, and turn back to

Ruru, Thank you,' I tell her.

Don't mention it,' she smiles her nearly-toothless smile.

Fuuko knocks on her teacher's hospital room door, slips inside when

called. Hibiki sits up, still looking a little battered but clean. Fuuko

whispers, oh so pretty,' not quite soft enough.

Hibiki blushes.

Sensei? What are you blushing for?'

Um, er . . . ' she trails off, You just said that out loud,' she

finally manages, after a little bit.

It's not fair,' Fuuko says, walking to the edge of the bed, I was

thinking about it on the way here.'

What?'

A man shouldn't be so pretty. The well-endowed is OK, since those

are prosthetic, but . . . ' Fuuko trails off with a shrug.

Hibiki's gone pale, face scared, and sags back into the pillow, one

hand fisted in the blanket, pulling it up to her chin, Fuuko?' her voice

quavers.

Sensei!' Fuuko wails, tears slipping down her cheeks, and throws

herself into the woman's arms, I,' she rubs her face against Hibiki's neck,

I,' she pulls back, I spent weeks getting used to the idea that I'm in love

with a woman-'

What?' Hibiki's eyes are wide, shocked.

And I go down to Gochiso so I can apologize to Bra Man for being

horrible to my fellow queer, and no one is home, so I decide to write him a

note.'

Hibiki is silent, and pale again.

And I find something that just knocked me on my butt -- the woman

I've been worrying about being in love with, who's face and butt and breasts

I've been fantisizing about fondling,'

Hibiki blinks at that, blushing.

Yes, you are very fetching, bewitching, even,'

Hibiki shakes her head.

You are! My beloved Amawa-sensei, is the same person as Bra Man.

Didn't even bother to change his name.'

I--' Hibiki starts, cuts herself off, stares, quivering gently.

Old Lady Ruru told me that you did it because you wanted to teach so

badly, and when I look at things, it's true. You're a wonderful teacher,

woman or man,' Fuuko smiles, But I don't think I'd have fallen in love with

you, if I had met you as a man,' she leans close, laces her fingers into

Hibiki's hair, I will keep you, even though you are a man,' and presses her

lips to Hibiki's.

Hibiki's hand comes up, cups Fuuko's cheek, kissing back gently,

passionately.

Fuuko breaks the kiss, smiling, I'm going.'

Where?' Hibiki's voice is soft, confused.

To the Dark Kingdom, to take my Tests. I am going to be back in a

few months, and if you're not here, I'll hunt you down, beat you up, and then

cry all over you, OK?'

Why?'

Because I love you, and I'm not going to wait for years, ask you to

wait for years, until I'm old enough, if I can do something about it. And I

can,' Fuuko nods, cutely determined.

She just stares, so I take her face between my hands, lean in, and

kiss her again, Ittekimasu,' I say, stepping back.

Itterashai,' she answers, the smile on her lips shimmering with

unshed tears in her eyes.

Fuuko sinks back against the wall outside, and closes her eyes,

breathing deeply for a few minutes, then walks down the hall.

I'm leaving, just so you don't worry,' I tell Fujio, who's watching

me pack a couple changes of clothing, one set in black, the other in bright

colors, my toothbrush, soap, washcloth, anything else . . . photos. Just a

couple, and a pen. Better make it two.

Leaving?' she squeaks.

I'm going to take my Tests,' I zip my bag, turn to look at her.

What? Why?'

I,' I look down, can I say it, I love Amawa-sensei.'

You'll be legal in a couple years,' she starts.

But will I still be me? Will Amawa-sensei still be available? I

don't think I'm strong enough to be around her for that long without doing

something stupid, getting us both in trouble, and I won't do that to her,' I

look down, And I don't want to drive her from her work here just so she can

avoid me,' my hands clench together, And I don't think she'd come back, if

she's been away even a couple years.'

Does she know?'

She kissed me back,' I smile at the memory, Both times.'

Who kissed you back?' Miho steps into the room, And what's with the

bag?' she looks at my clothes, so I check them again, t-shirt and jeans.

I'm going away for a few months. I need to talk to the dorm mother,'

I reach up to touch Miho's shoulder, Amawa-sensei,' I answer her first

question in passing.

You need to call her, at least, she can help you fill out the forms

to request a leave of absence, so your place will still be here when you get

back.'

I don't know how long I'll be gone,' Fuuko tells Marumoto Ai, the

plump woman who works as the housemother.

Ask for a year, then, and you can probably get another if you need

it, being prepaid and all,' Ai says.

Thanks,' Fuuko reaches out, and gives Ai's hand a squeeze.

Ms. Otoyama takes the papers from me, looks them over, and asks again,

Why are you doing this?'

Personal reasons. I need to do something, I'll be back when I get

done with it.'

Does your father know?'

I emailed him, it's too late for me to call him right now.'

That's so sad,' she looks up at me, You're not an any trouble, are

you?'

No, I'm not,' I smile at her.

She yawns, blushes prettily, Where are you going tonight?'

Osaka.'

What's in,' she blinks, Are you going to take your Tests?'

Yes,' I say, a little worried that she'll try to stop me.

If you think it's time, it's time,' she smiles, holds out her hand,

Good luck,' she says in English.

I blink, but shake her hand.

Do you have a map to the CPS building?' she asks, retrieving her

hand.

No,' I shake my head, I was going to ask at the information center

by Osaka station.'

Let me see,' she pulls out a blank piece of paper, This is Osaka

Castle station,' she starts drawing.

Fuuko sleeps in her seat on the train, knowing she has a while longer

to go before she has to change trains again, shortish red hair and pink ribbon

resting on her dark green shirt and the beige vinyl seat.

I blink blearily at the sign, lit with soft yellow light from the

setting sun, nearly too tired to read the kanji. Oh. Right. My train will

be here in another hour. Local trains are much cheaper than the shinkansen,

but they take a lot longer, too.

Osaka station is large, and surprisingly airy, faced on the inside in

pale yellowish stone. Fuuko wanders out the intercity gates into the main

body of station, her stomach grumbling. A look around, and she slips into the

Mister Donut, tucked into a back corner. She drops her bag by one of the tall

stools, buys a Curry Pan and coffee from the slightly plump girl behind the

counter, getting a smile for her enthusiastic thanks.

The donut and coffee are quickly consumed, and she sets out again,

finding the intracity train map, and her reference points. With a sigh, she

drops a five hundred yen coin in the ticket machine, punches the proper

button, and picks up her ticket and paltry change.

Out at Osaka Castle Station, down, head away from the castle for three

blocks, make a right, and walk for ten more blocks. Can't miss it. I shake

my head, get back on the train, and head down the line another station.

I hate it when the homes are on opposite sides of the track. It makes

it much harder to backtrack when I miss my stop.

No luck here, either. I yawn, settle back against the rail.

Oh, good. I lever myself up, walk over to the other home, and wait,

standing on the yellow line.

I need another cup of coffee, probably.

One . . . two . . . three . . . four stations. Here we are. Out I

go, down, walk towards Osaka Castle a little bit, so I can look at it, then

buy an ice cream from one of the vendors behind the station, and walk three

blocks, take a right.

Wow, it is right there. Cool.

The fourteen year old girl in blue jeans and a dark green shirt

finishes her melon-flavored ice-cream sandwitch and folds the wrapper, tossing

it in the trash can by the door, then grabs up her bag and walks under the

sign into the building.

May I help you?' the pretty young woman at the front desk asks.

I blink, surprised. Her pupils are vertical slits, like a cat's, and a

very nice shade of gold, I want to take my Tests,' I tell her.

Are you ready? Have you been training?' she asks, and I can tell she

doesn't think it's likely.

Not as much as I should, but I need to pass them, so I will.'

Just a moment,' she tells me, presses a button, Ayukawa-san?'

Mizuho?'

We have a walk-in. A keeper, for her Tests.'

A low voice answers her.

Ki-Pa-?' I ask, when she's released the button.

A very good candidate. Ayukawa-san will be here momentarily.'

A man, thirtyish, brown hair, brown eyes, gentle look on his face,

walks in. He smiles when he sees me, turns to Mizuho, You're right, I'll

take her from here.'

What's your name?' he asks, gesturing me down the hall.

I look him over again, look back at Mizuho, Kuzuha Fuuko,' I look,

again, for a weapon, Don't you . . . ' I trail off, I mean, Mizuho's

carrying, and she's a youma.'

Oh!' he chuckles, looking a little embarassed, I'm an ESPer. Metal

interferes with my abilities, when I wear it, anyway.'

Oh,' I say.

Mizuho's desk lifts fifteen centimeters off the ground, then settles

back. She just sits there, continuing to type.

Wow,' I follow his gesture, and walk up the hall.

Fuuko's eyes are wide, looking at the options available, You'd do any

of this for me, just because I ask?'

Because of who you are, and you ask, yes.'

What do you mean?' Fuuko's eyes latch on Kyousuke's face, Who I am?'

You're a good person, and you care, and you don't need a contract to

do the right thing. You'll take our training, work hard, and become a very

good citizen.'

How do you know? I could be lying, pretending.'

I'm an ESPer. I'm not as good at reading people as Serenity-sama,

but I can sense enough.'

What do you think would be best for me?' I ask him, curious if his

recommendation will match what I think I need.

BCT,' he answers promptly, You don't need the full sixteen weeks of

PDDC, or you wouldn't be here, but you need the physical training, and the

combat skills.'

You don't think I could pass my Tests as I am?'

He looks at me very carefully, Yes, you could. It might kill you,

but if you felt you had to pass today, you would.'

I blink at him, surprised. I don't think I have that much willpower.

Yes, you do.'

Did you?' read my mind, I finish silently.

No, but I've seen that look of disbelief before.'

Fuuko catches the train in the morning, in the black shirt and black

pants, the pink ribbon a little incongruous, down a few stations, changes to

the limited-express to Kansai International Airport. Once there, she wanders

aimlessly for a little while after checking the time and the map of the

airport.

I've never been to an airport before, but it matches well with what I

expect from TV and movies, like an oversized train station. Some things just

don't match up, at least not at the JAL terminal I look at first. There's too

much hassle, stopping, waiting in line to be searched and metal-detectored.

I head to the DKAL terminal, stop to get a bento for breakfast from

the fifty thousand yen the receptionist had handed me with my ticket this

morning, For expenses.' I put the change into my new neck wallet, zip the

pocket with forty-nine thousand-yen notes in it closed.

I watch things at the DKAL terminal while I eat my rice and agedofu.

The passengers just check their bags, show their tickets, the Dark

Kingdom citizens are asked if they are armed. They all answer yes, some

patting weapons, others letting sparkles of light dance between their fingers,

others only nodding.

I throw away the box, walk up to the counter, pull my ticket from my

new neck wallet, set it down, Flight 1546, to Pyongyang,' I say.

The clerk looks up and smiles at me, Have fun, it'll be an

experience,' he says.

What do you mean?'

BCT, right?' he asks.

How?'

You've a CPS ticket to Pyongyang, you're young, and you're

unescorted. Don't worry, you'll do fine.'

Thank you,' I smile back at him.

Gate seven,' he tells me, and hands me back my ticket.

I smile, nod, and head off towards the stairs up to the main

concourse.

Fuuko walks determinedly up the stairs, noting that there isn't a line

at the metal detectors, and walks up to them, Hello?'

May I see your ticket, Fuuko?' the man asks.

Fuuko blinks, but hands it over, Go ahead,' he says, hands it back,

and waves her through.

She walks through the metal detector, which makes a beeeep-beep-beep

noise. The woman on the other side waves her through.

Since there isn't a line, she stops by the woman with the wand, Why

am I getting waved through? I set off the detector and everything.'

You're here on a CPS ticket, and we're expecting you. Once you pass

your tests, you'll be a citizen, and will get the wave-through as well.'

What if I had a bomb?'

Lots of citizens carry grenades, and a few carry larger charges,' she

shrugs dark-blue clad shoulders, So we trust our passengers to take care of

it, if someone wants to blow up the plane,' she smiles reassuringly, All six

catastrophic explosions so far have been accidental detonations with charges

in excess of eight kilograms.'

Oh,' Fuuko says, and walks on, finding a seat by gate seven and

sinking distracted into a seat.

She was just so off-handed about it, as if the loss of two hundred

people and a multi-billion yen plane was just an unfortunate accident.

But, really, it is, isn't it. No one set out to kill those people,

and no one has even tried to hijack a Dark Kingdom Airlines plane. No one has

successfully blown one up on purpose, either.

There was the shoe-bomber copycat, but he got beaten into submission

by the ninety-eight year old grandmother in the seat next to him when he tried

to blow it up. She was in the news for a week.

There was the guy who started yelling about sending all you sinners

to Hell', but he got shot a dozen times, after he'd pulled the pin on his

grenade. A brave little girl got that into her Keepsafe before it blew, even

if she didn't get the lid all the way closed, and has a new hand now. That

was in the news for a month, all Sailor Saturn Grows Little Hero a New Hand'

and suchlike.

Fuuko looks up, nods softly, and checks the time. Another hour.

A small group arrives, six teens, three adults, with four people in

the pale-blue duty uniforms of Child Protective Services. They keep together,

the four in blue keeping an eye on them.

One of the girls says something, and two of the others stand. One of

the guards walks with them to the restroom.

Fuuko gets up, and buys a mocha from the vendor down the way.

Pyongyang doesn't look like I thought it would. I'm not sure how I

thought it would look, but this isn't it.

It's very clean, and a mix of old buildings and new construction, with

more going on. Everyone is smiling, most are carrying openly, lots of M3

subguns slung on people's backs. It's odd, no one feels like a threat. I

never felt completely safe in public, back home, but I never noticed that

uneasy feeling until it's gone.

I look around the bus, there's fifteen of us who were picked up at the

airport, and another twenty-five from the train station.

Age looks to be early teens to mid-twenties, eighteen males,

twenty-two females, mostly Chinese, a couple of Koreans, ten Japanese, three

American girls, a tiny Indonesian woman, and a tall, skinny Somali man. No

youma, and no obvious magical people.

Fourty-four people climb off the bus as the sun starts to set, looking

around the little valley they spent all day climbing to. The sun paints the

surrounding mountains pink, and shadows stretch around the low buildings

clustered in the center.

OK,' the slender woman who greets them says, We'll start training in

the morning, but first, we'll do some preliminary sorting, get you rooms, and

get you dinner,' she looks at her slate, First, who's here for PDDC?'

One of the American girls, the batch from Kansai International, and a

few of the others step forward. Someone else steps up and takes charge of

them, leading them off.

Next, who was told they were group w?'

Two people step forward.

That's it?' she asks, looking at one of the Korean men.

He steps forward, and another woman whisks them off.

The rest of you are here for BCT, right?'

Everyone left nods.

Good,' she turns to the left, Follow me,' and leads them into a low

building. In the first room they are given a set of PT clothes, a duffle, a

lock, and a laundry bag. Everything goes into the duffle.

In the next room they sit down before a large TV, which turns on,

displaying a pale, somehow inhuman woman.

I'm Megumi, the head of Child Protective Services. You have decided

that you are ready to give up on childhood, and take up the duties of an

adult. That's an important step, and we will help you to utmost of our

ability.

You will have to work hard, and there won't be much positive feedback

for the first few weeks, but one day, you'll wake up less tired, and realize

that all the hard work you're putting in is having a positive effect. After

that, it will all get easier. By the time you leave, you'll be able to take

anything the world will throw at you, and make it through alive.'

She smiles, looks at the little Indonesian woman, But you know that

already, Shari.'

Shari nods, Yes.'

After a short, taped speech by Queen Serenity we get led off, paired

up, given rooms.

Once we've dropped our gear off, we go out and line up.

Ten minutes work gets the trainees into formation, and they march

around for a while, managing a halfway decent attempt by the fourth time

around the buildings, at which point they get to go in and eat.

The sudden light wakes me, a little, and the loud voice yelling On

Your Feet!' gets me the rest of the way there. Well, sort of.

Get up, get dressed, make your beds, PT formation in forty minutes!'

I struggle into my PT clothes, get my bunk almost tight, stagger into

the latrine to wash my face. Sagi-san puts his hands on the sides of the

sink, leans over, and groans at his reflection.

What's wrong?' I ask him.

I'm so tired,' he says.

This is your second day,' a cheerful male voice says from behind us,

It'll only get worse.'

I turn to look, Magril-sensei?'

Margli,' he corrects me, You should put the ribbon up until you get

out of training, Kuzuha-san.'

Fuuko gently folds the pink ribbon, and carefully tucks it into her

drawer, under her socks.

My hand trembles when I set it to the paper, but my characters are still legible,

if very ugly, so I continue.

Dear Sensei,

It's been three days, I think. I was staring up at the ceiling, flat

on the floor to avoid having to re-make my bed too often, my hands, folded on

my belly were trembling, my limbs ache, and my belly's twitching from the

strain I've put it to.

So I decided to write you a letter, to get my mind off of it. 3

The weather is nice, for early fall, no rain yet, and we're high

enough in the mountains that it's not too hot. I don't recognize some of the

trees, but most are familiar -- I'll send you a leaf from one of the strange

ones.

So far, training has just been PT, physical training, running,

carrying, lifting weights, doing situps and crunches, stretching past my

comfortable limits; Drill and Ceremony, which we're told we won't have to do

anymore once we're out of here; and barracks maintenance, the proper ways to

clean things, make a bed, hang clothes in the closet and put in drawers. Some

of it seems really stupid.

We've all been issued uniforms, four sets of PT clothes, three sets of

woodland camouflage Class Three uniforms, and we'll get two desert, one

urban, and one parade, which is black, uniforms before we graduate. Some of

us, they say, are going to change sizes enough that they won't fit by the time

we get to wear them.

They, in this case, are the instructors. There's a total of

thirty-five of us, and eighteen instructors, in my group. I hit up google,

last night -- the Americans get by with three or four instructors for fifty

soldiers.

It's both gratifying and annoying -- whenever I turn around, there's

an instructor, checking on me, just a little bit, letting me know what the

right thing to do is when I'm confused, which is a lot, pushing us.

I ran a mile in five and a half minutes, yesterday. I was shocked

My hand is cramping, so I'd better stop now.

I miss you.

Your Devoted Fuuko.

You should use your left hand, if you can't use your right,'

Coil-sensei says, a little smile on her horribly scarred brown face.

I can't,' I say, and fold the letter, slide it into the envelope.

Try it,' she touches my left hand with her right, which nearly makes

me cringe. It's even more scarred than her face, and I want to know but won't

ask how it happened.

Coil wasn't always my name,' she says, settling into seiza next to

me, I'm, my family was, Tutsi,' she looks at me, to see if that rings any

bells. It doesn't, Rwandan,' that does, So, April Eighth, 1994, I was

dragged out into the street, my husband and son killed by Hutu butchers, and

they'd started playing with me, but quickly, like they had something to worry

about. They cut my face with knives, used a club on my hand, had me tied down

and were cutting my clothes when they ran at the sound of feet. They never

had a chance. Sergeant Coil was youma, about seven foot in combat form,

vaguely reptilian. He shot ten of them, and ripped the one who was trying to

club me to death in two.'

She stops, smiles gently, It was a long time ago, now. I was one of

the lucky ones, from Kigli, because the Dark Kingdom 'ported in with a

thousand people on the seventh. It took two more days for the Kiseinen

warriors and the armor to get there, and by that time most of the killing had

been stopped.'

How?'

By killing the people who orchestrated the massacre, mostly, stopping

the broadcasts fueling the killings. A lot of the dead were just poor boys

who'd been promised status, wealth, food, to kill a few people they didn't

like anyway. Their deaths just left them dead. The few hundred who planned

and implemented things, killing the old president, then using the resulting

chaos and confusion to pin the blame on the Tutsis and demand their organized

murder, those were good deaths,' she gives my shoulder a squeeze, stands, and

walks away.

I stare at my right hand for several minutes, then address the

envelope, put it in the mailbox, and sit back down by my bunk. I take my pen

in my left hand, notebook in my right, and start wasting paper.

Fuuko sets down her chopsticks with a growl, rubs her left hand with

her right.

Coil-sensei told you about her scars,' Machida-sensei doesn't really

ask.

Yes,' Fuuko looks up at him, How can she be so calm about it?'

It happened, and she's done everything in her power to make sure it

never happens again.'

But.'

Would it be better for her to cry, and wail, and go on about the

unfairness of the world? Or for her to train herself, and you, to be strong

enough to stop such things in the future?'

It's better to stop them,' Fuuko says, But,' she looks down, Can I

still be sad for her?'

A little smile lifts one corner of Machida-sensei's craggy face, Yes,

you may.'

Fuuko looks at him seriously, then nods and picks up her chopsticks

again.

Today, we're running in our assault packs. You haven't recieved full

issue yet, so you won't be carrying as much as us,' Maruyama-sensei smiles at

us. Maruyama-sensei is harder than old nails, which is good, because she's

both very tiny, and very pretty, and otherwise she wouldn't get any respect.

But it's hard to to disrespect someone who's shorter than I am, and

can, I've seen it, pick up Bond-sensei, who's nearly seven feet tall, and very

musclely, one handed.

If Maruyama-sensei is smiling about this run-- my low groan blends

into the communal one.

Fuuko is at the front of the formation, with the other short people,

pacing off Maruyama-sensei, who isn't even breathing hard. Fuuko is gulping,

mouth wide, but keeping up despite an added five kilograms on her back.

Shower, those of you who need to shave, shave, be down for breakfast

chow by seven twenty,' Bond-sensei tells the formation, after the stragglers

fall into their places.

The instructors look over the formation, which is swaying slightly,

sweaty, but at proper intervals, and the position of attention.

Bond-sensei nods, Fall out!'

Everyone takes a step back with their left foot, and the formation

dissolves.

I look at the letter on my bed. Could it be? It is! A letter from

sensei!

I grab my shower things, and head to the shower room.

Fuuko groans, starts back towards the front of the room, where she

left her shampoo.

Here,' Kim hands over his bottle.

Thanks,' Fuuko takes it, squeezes out a bit, hands it back.

No problem,' Kim finishes rinsing off, turns off the water and starts

out.

I take the letter in trembling fingers, check the postmark, it was

sent the day I mailed my letter, so she probably didn't read it first.

I open it with my knife, set that down on the floor next to me, slide

the letter out.

Dear Kuzuha,

I let myself feel a little disappointment at that greeting, then

continue.

I miss you already, even though it's only been five days since you

left. School isn't the same without you to calm things down, and no one here

is as cute as you are.

The vice-principal apparently took pictures, when you kissed me, and

tried to use them to convice the school that a) I'm a man, and b) I chose

to come to this school so I could abuse all the little girls.

Point a) wasn't taken very seriously, but point b) took a bit more

effort, and your running off to take your tests helped me show it wasn't

intentional.

I'm glad I didn't have to tell anyone my secret, since I'm more

embarrassed about it than anything else, and I don't think it would have

helped.

That was my first kiss, which you stole.

There, I said it.

Isn't that pathetic? At twenty-three I finally lost my first kiss to

a fourteen year old student.

Eternally yours,

Hibiki.

I blink back tears, sure that there is more to it than she said. I touch the

paper, and am surprised to find little dried splash marks.

Fuuko is distracted at chow, but eats quickly, chopsticks in her right

hand. Halfway through she stops, looks at her hands, and switches over,

eating nearly as fast with her left.

I flop onto the floor, lay there a few minutes on my face, enjoying

the feeling of not moving, then force myself up, unlock my closet, pull out my

pen and notebook, and slide down the wall with them.

After a few more minutes, I open it up, and put the pen to the paper,

Dear Hibiki,

The characters are even worse than last time, but that's cause I'm

writing left-handed, and dead tired, so it can't be helped.

The weather's nice, a little colder, but not much. No sign of colors

in the leaves yet, but I expect that soon.

PT's evened out -- running, martial arts, strange training execises

like you see in kung fu movies, but not many of the last. We work up,

increasing intensity for three days, drop back, increase for three days, drop

back, increase for three days, then rest for three days and begin again.

Those of us who don't have any martial arts yet are being tought

something like Jeet Kyun Do, the rest are being tought in their own styles.

It's fun, really, and I've improved remarkably, considering that it's been,

what, three weeks next week.

I'm surprised at myself, really. I'm three kilos heavier, and have

lost a centimeter at waist and bust. I'm learning physical stuff faster, and

it's getting much easier. I can throw a rock and hit something now

We just did forms for an hour, Maruyama-sensei, me, Kim, and Shari,

then did a four mile run in half an hour. I hurt all over, but it's kind of a

good hurt, somehow.

I wish I could see you. I'd like to see what I look like to you,

after all this work.

Be safe.

Devoted,

Fuuko

I look at the paltry few lines I've managed, then fold the thing up,

force myself up, seal it into an envelope, address it, and drop it in the box,

then curl myself up next to my bunk and drop off for a few minutes.

Fuuko pulls out her letter from Hibiki, re-reads it, and pulls out her

notebook again,

Dear Hibiki,

I was really tired earlier, and didn't even think about answering your

letter, really.

I'm really upset that the vice-principal would do such a thing, but

she is a bit high-strung, isn't she?

I'm glad no one actually thought you were a man, but how did she try

to show that you liked little girls? It really seems to me that you like one,

but that could be wishful thinking on my part . . .

I apologize for stealing your first kiss -- if I'd thought it could

have been, I'da asked, but it never even crossed my mind.

When I get back, let's have another, OK?

Be well,

Fuuko

She scowls cutely at the single sheet of paper, folds it, and puts it

in an envelope, addresses it, and drops it in the box.

I scowl at my boot, tempted, oh so tempted, to throw it. Instead, I

pick it up, brush on more polish, and set it aside, brush polish on the other

one.

I pull four new cotton balls out of my bag, set two of them down, dip

one in the polish. I rub my first boot with it, adding polish as needed,

until there is a smooth coat of dull black polish over my boot.

Once satisfied with that, I take a second cotton ball, load it with

polish, then dip it in the water, soaking it well. I rub the boot in small

circles, adding polish occasionally, and water frequently. The boot finally

gets shiny, as the polish wears off the cotton ball, leaving wet grey fiber on

the surface of the cotton ball.

I set that cottonball down, too, and pick up the third cotton ball,

wet it, and gently rub my boot, shining the toes and heel just a little

further. I look at my dark, blurry reflection in my boot, and wipe it off,

catching the water droplets with the fourth cotton ball. I set it aside,

still unsatisfied with it, but too annoyed to work on it any more right now.

I pick up my other boot, the first cotton ball, and start smoothing

polish over the dull black surface of it.

Fuuko breathes hard, unsteadily, fingers wrapped around the rope,

slowly heading hand over hand along it. She glances down, into the ravine,

then back up, and reaches for her next handhold. She hopes there's a safety,

there is an instructor at either end of the rope, but isn't sure since no one

has fallen yet, and she won't be the first.

She gulps, pauses, rocks from side to side to relax her shoulders,

aching under the strain of her own weight, ten kilos in her assault pack,

and ten kilos of body armor. She reaches for the next handhold, grips firmly,

and rocks herself forward, grab, release, swing, grab.

Three meters left.

Meter and a half.

Done. Fuuko drops to the ground, and Misoono-sensei smiles at her,

Good job,' she says, shaking her pink hair back, But you can go over the

rope.'

This,' Fuuko pants, Is. Faster,' she smiles, shakes her arms out,

and starts down the trail after the others, half the class behind her.

I grip the thirty pound squeezer again, and force my hand closed

against its springs, Twenty-two,' I say. Eight more for this hand, then the

right again.

Oww. I think I'll be going to the fourty-five next time.

Kuzuha's hard core, isn't she?' Yukishiro-san says, softly.

Yes. It's almost inspiring,' Misumi-san answers her.

Almost? Who are you kidding, Nagisa?'

No one, apparently,' Misumi-san smiles down at her smaller, friend,

But you've been working very hard, too, Honoka.'

Yukishiro-san just smiles, and squeezes their joined hands.

Fuuko grunts out, Ninety,' drops, not letting her belly touch the

ground, forces herself back up on shaking arms, Ninety one.'

A letter!

I snatch it up, drop to the floor with a thump, and slit it

carefully with my knife, then re-sheath it on my belt, snap the thumb break

into place.

Dear Fuuko,

I feel the smile slide over my face, and continue reading.

The weather here has gotten cold, and the leaves are just barely

starting to turn. Fall will be here soon. Does it rain, here, during the

fall, or snow? I've not been here long enough to know.

The vice-principal's, as usual, horrible. She's obsessed with proving

that I'm a man, for some reason I really wish she'd give up, it would

make my life easier

Everyone misses you, and wonders when you'll be back. I offered to

send any letters they'd like to send, but I haven't gotten any yet. I only

thought of it yesterday, though, so that's not surprising ;;

Have you made any friends, or are you working too hard? I'll be

surprised if is the later, since you are a loveable person.

Himejima and Fukae have worked things out, it seems, and have been

prone to walking around hand-in-hand. It's cute.

Fukae asked if you'd sent any pictures, and then the whole class asked

for some, but I had to tell them there weren't any yet.

I'm glad to hear that you're working hard, and hope you're enjoying

yourself. If you have any pictures, feel free to send them.

Anyway, I miss being able to talk to you -- my phone number is

82-5553-1678, and I'll accept charges if you call collect. Bra Man might

answer, but if you want you can talk to him, too.

Another first kiss isn't really needed, but I wouldn't object to one,

if you're offering. I wasn't really prepared for the last one

Devoted,

Hibiki

I gather it to my chest, and notice that she's scented it with the

perfume she always uses. I just start crying for no good reason at all, and

toss the letter onto my bunk so I won't crumple it, and curl up on the floor

to indulge in these completely self-pitying tears.

Fuuko is punching the bag of iron sand, which gives with a firm

crunch to each blow -- hard, smashing blows with the last three knuckles of

each hand, twisting her hand just a little at the end of each blow for that

last little oomph. Her breathing is steady, force transfering easily

through her slight frame.

Challenge?' Nagisa asks.

What?' Fuuko replies, keeping up her rythmic blows.

Verticals, first to a hundred wins?'

Verticals, highest number wins,' Fuuko challenges back.

Done!'

You playing too, Honoka?'

No,' Honoka shakes her head, long black hair flowing easily, I'd

drop out at about ninety-five, again.'

That's still pretty good,' Fuuko says, Better than anyone at my

school, anyway.'

Mine, too, but,' Honoka shrugs, Let's see if I can hit a hundred

this time.'

With a grace that still surprises her, Fuuko bends over backwards,

places her hands on the ground, and tosses herself into a handstand.

Someone claps.

Nagisa scowls, but drops into a headstand forward, hands to either

side of her head.

Honoka places her hands, then throws her feet up, bounces them off the

wall to correct herself, black hair pooling around, but not under, this time,

her hands.

Ready?' Fuuko asks, smiling, her uniform top sliding down to show her

brown t-shirt.

Ready!' Honoka says.

Nagisa just nods.

Begin!' Kim calls, stepping up to referee.

Fuuko drops until her nose touches the ground, then forces herself

back up again with a little grunt, One.'

Nagisa's unruly brown hair brushes the ground before her nose touches,

and she starts up, a quick, rather jerky movement, One.'

One hundred twenty-five,' I say, blink sweat out of my eyes, and look

at Nagisa.

She's paused, arms shaking, then drops, forces herself back up, One

hundred twenty,' she says, drops, up, One hundred twenty one,' she calls,

falling over.

It's good, she called it before she fell,' Kim says.

Honoka smiles, sitting where she dropped, still sheened in sweat,

normally shiny hair glistening wet with it, And I managed a hundred, so

that's good.'

I drop back to my feet, smile gratuitously, arms twitching slowly, and

turn to Kim, Want to try me? You might actually win right now,' I tease him.

He shakes his head, I fall over after ten.'

I might fall over after ten more,' I say.

And elephants fly by flapping their ears.'

Dear Hibiki,

We had some leaves to rake up today, so that was different. The air's

a little nippy, but not bad, still over twenty degrees.

We've reached the end of our conditioning phase, and will settle into

maintenence, but I'm still amazed by how much we've managed. It's not quite

ninja-anime ridiculous, but normal people can't do a hundred and twenty-five

vertical push-ups, which is what I did today in challenge. I really like it,

though, the way the others look at me.

Next week we start weapons training, with pistols. We've two weeks of

that, then rifles, machine guns, and grenades, then tactics and strategy, with

a reduced amount of PT.

I'll be back for at least a week, after that, but . . .

The instructors say that we've already learned all we need to pass our

Tests, but I don't feel like an adult, and I wonder if I will when BCT is

over. If not, I'm volunteering for a tour with a training battalion in

Afganistan. That'll be three months, and will bring us to the new school year

at Seitou.

We're taking our Tests tomorrow, then getting more of our initial

issue.

I've got a couple pictures, so I'll put them in. The first one is

from the first day I got my c3s, so it should look familiar, complete with

ribbon. I packed that up the next day, because I didn't want to shred it,

which I probably would have.

I've ripped a couple uniforms to shit, but I patched them, and they

don't look too bad. The next picture is of how I shredded one of them.

Really, it didn't hurt much, and I healed up after a week or so.

The next one is me and Misoono-sensei sparring. She's a magical girl,

rarely misses a shot, once threw a girl out the fourth floor window and caught

her before she hit the ground, can grab the only handhold on the entire face

of a building after jumping off the edge, that sort of thing, at least

according to her wife, who was the girl thrown out the window. You can see

her in the background, along with Kim Seong Jo, Yukishiro Honoka and Misumi

Nagisa. Misumi and Yukishiro are the ones holding hands, Yukishiro is the

girly looking one. Kim is the guy.

The last one is me pulling my shirt off, in my PT uniform. Don't

share it with the others, please, even if nothing really shows, since I want

to surprise them a little bit.

I've picked up five centimeters, since I got here. I was really

surprised when we measured yesterday.

It tends to rain, then snow in December a little bit, but it melts

quickly, leaving a lot of cold mud, where you are.

I don't know what the vice-principal could be thinking -- it's not

like you cross-dress or anything Not that you wouldn't be cute, dressed

up as a man, with your hair pulled back and your slender throat all exposed

and vulnerable . . .

Tell everyone I miss them, too, and you can read them this letter, if

you want.

Well, don't read them this part, but I'll try to call, once I figure

out how, and I'd love another first kiss with you.

Devoted,

Fuuko

I shut the door behind me, sit down, pick up the phone, and punch in

the international prefix, then Sensei's number.

As she warned me, it rings a couple times, the a somewhat familiar

deep male voice answers, Moshi moshi, Amawa de gozaimasu.'

Fuuko desu,' I tell him, Thought I'd call, say hi, say I missed you,

whatnot.'

Want me to go get my evil twin?' he asks, diffidently.

Only if you'd feel more comfortable -- if you're uncomfortable

talking to me.'

I'd better get her, I think her vice-principal's been listening at my

house.'

What? That's despicable.'

Well, yes, but,' he continues, with a muffled yell, Hibiki!'

What?' Sensei's voice yells.

Fuuko's on the phone!'

Just a moment!'

Less muffled, and lower volume, I just told her that we think your

vice-principal's eavesdropping.'

Oh. Can I have the phone?'

Here,' a little rattle, like the phone was set down, then picked back

up.

Sorry 'bout that,' Sensei says.

It's OK,' I laugh a little, I think it's cute, and I'd love to see

it.'

Yes, well, my evil twin is sort of strange like that.'

I thought he said you were the evil twin.'

Can't we both be the evil twin?'

I suppose.'

So, what's up?'

How'd you get a phone?'

Cellular. It's a bit of an expense, but so long as I don't have to

cover any unexpected expenses like the month before last's . . . '

I hope you won't have to, too.'

So, I'm guessing you got my letter.'

Yes, and I've mailed a reply. Tell everyone I miss them, since I do.

I really miss you, though, so you'd better be there in six weeks, when I get

done with this mess.'

So you don't like it?'

No, actually I do, it's just that I see Honoka and Nagisa, or the

Misoonos, and I just want to be with you so badly I can taste it.'

What does it taste like?'

Not entirely unpleasant, sorta coppery, rather like blood, actually,'

I shrug, even though she can't see it, but I wish I could see you, not just

your picture.'

So you have a picture of me?' I can just see the little smile on her

face.

Three. One is just you, the other two are of the both of us. I

already look so much younger in those pictures, it's a little scary. My face

is thinner, so's my neck, but I had more bust in them, too.'

Oh? How's that?'

I'm down to something like eighteen percent body fat, and that's with

three big meals a day, and a snack before bed.'

Wow. They must be working you really hard.'

They've slacked off, and now we're working each other. I'm really

surprised by how strong I've gotten, but Misoono-sensei, that's Mikura,

Asami's specialty is rifles, says that I can expect to keep improving so long

as I don't slack off.'

Wow. So how strong are you?'

I did a hundred and twenty-five vertical pushups yesterday, and

probably could have done another twenty. I can run up and over a fifteen foot

wall in full assault pack and body armor, too.'

Body armor?'

Metallic breast and back. Not current issue, but I'm growing too

fast for them to issue me a segmi yet.'

Wow, so they're going that far?'

Yep. I was surprised, too. I'll have to pay for my own weapons, but

I'll have my weapons allowance, and my training pay, and they'll be paying me

a stipend, so it'll be OK.'

What's the stipend for?'

I'm going to Afganistan, once this is over. I'll be back for a week,

maybe a week and a half, then I'll be going to a training batallion for tour,

then I'll be back for next school year.'

Af- Af- Afganistan! Why!' Hibiki stutters, worry obvious in her

voice.

Part of it is I still feel like a kid, and I think I will after I get

done with BCT, so,' I nod, sharply, But mostly because they need people

there. They've gotten all the women trained, but they've had a bunch of

people burn out on it, and they've got about a quarter of the men left.'

But,' Hibiki's voice is strained, I,' she pauses, Does the school

know?'

I'm on a one year leave of absence, so,' I shrug, I'll be back soon,

anyway, the glass ceiling will hit me pretty quick.'

Glass ceiling?'

Yep. No one under nine makes Corporal. No one under twenty makes

Sergeant. No one under twenty-three makes Staff Sergeant. It's to force

people out of the deployable forces and into school, while it will still do

some good.'

Wow. So you'll be a Corporal when you come back?'

Or a PFC, I don't know.'

I'll miss you,' her voice is small.

I miss you already.'

You'd better come back, or I'll be forced to track you down.'

If I don't come back, it'll be because I'm in hell.'

Then I have to wander Greece until I find the entrance, and get you

back,' she tells me, semi-serious.

I smile, I'll do my best to prevent that.'

See that you do!' she orders, lighter-toned.

I will, I will,' I laugh.

Love you,' she almost whispers.

Love you, too,' I say back. I look up at my watch, It's time for

dinner chow, so I'd better go,' I say reluctantly.

Call me again?' she asks, quietly.

Definately,' I reasure her, Bye.'

Good. Amawa Hibiki, Over.'

Thanks. Fuuko, Out,' and I hang up, after pausing a moment to see if

she'll say anything more.

Here's the list of what we have available for you to work with,'

Miyamura-sensei says, handing out copies, Research on your own, and you'll get

to test-fire things tomorrow.'

He looks over the class, then continues once everyone has had a chance

to glance over the list, Now, we'll go over some terms, then some basic

safety and use, and the beginnings of pistol marksmanship.'

I blink at the computer screen, eyes hurting, and decide to just go

with my gut, since all the ones I've looked up so far have been quite good

enough.

The P-14, whatever model, looks quite fine, the P-10 is cute, the

Kel-Tecs are too.

I close the browser, push up, and walk back to the bay, find my bunk,

flop down on it to shed my slippers, then climb in.

Fuuko picks up the stainless steel Para-Ordinance P-14, the mother of

pearl grips with inset gold crescent moon shining. Her hand barely wraps

around it, but she lifts it easily, clears it, and sights down the barrel in a

safe direction.

Do you think?' Maruyama-sensei looks at Miyamura-sensei.

Perhaps. But it is the shiniest, too.'

It is.'

I set the shiny m1911-style down, and look over the rest of the

offerings. We're doing this one at a time, just so that they can watch us,

I'm sure. I wonder how many of the others grabbed the Sailor Moon Special'

first?

The M9 is too fat. I'm surprised, because it's a nine-mil

double-stack, not a .45. I dry fire it, too, and watch it wobble all over.

I set it down, and look over the choices, picking up the smallest one,

a tiny Beretta, clear it, sight it, click the trigger, drop the mag, look at

the printing on the side. I shake my head, .25 ACP is no good, even with

modern Dark Kingdom loads.

Next smallest, a Kel-Tec P32. Cute, .32 auto, seven rounds, DAO. I

clear it, point it, dry-fire it. Nice.

Another Kel-Tec, in .380 auto. Six rounds, DAO. Clear, point,

dry-fire.

Walther PPK, also .380 auto. Nice, but too heavy compared to the

Kel-Tec. I put it in the pile of guns I want to fire anyway.

Single-stack Colt M1911A1, GI model. Nice, slimmer grip, but. It

goes into the fire group.

Glock 27. DAO, different sort of trigger. Decent feel. Into the

pile.

S&W 99 in .45. Seems more complex than I'd like, with the

striker-fired mechanism, but. Into the pile..

A Kimber, a Wilson Combat, and a Para-Ordinance P-10 round out the

group.

She's good at this,' Misoono Mikura-sensei says, watching Fuuko run

the pistol course.

Very good,' Miyamura Junpachi-sensei, the pistol instructor, says, an

intent look on his face, Almost magically good.'

The detectors don't show anything,' Mikura-sensei says.

They don't show anything for you, either,' he shrugs.

True.'

Fuuko spins, shoots the target as it comes up, and rolls into the next

room.

I think you're right,' Maruyama Kurumi-sensei says.

Mikura-sensei nods.

I change mags, gripping one warm gun under my arm as I slap the last

of twenty fourteen-round magazines for the P-14s into the other, and plug the

target. No more in this room, I dive to the next, bringing both guns up.

There, there, and . . . there!

She didn't even look at that one,' Junpachi-sensei says, impressed.

And she hasn't shot a non-combatant target yet.'

I holster the second P-14 against my shoulderblade, drawing the little

Kel-Tec from my waist with my right hand.

I barely bring it onto the target before it speaks, .380 auto a

sharper bang than the flatter .45 ACP.

She's gonna run out of ammo, isn't she?' Honoka asks, from the back

of the room.

Yeah, by about sixty rounds,' Junpachi-sensei answers.

So this course is supposed to be run with twenty-round mags?' Nagisa

asks.

No, it's supposed to be run in teams of three to five, being the Full

Team Combat Course.'

But she decided to take it herself?'

Yep.'

That's Fuuko for you,' Honoka smiles, I don't suppose we can drop

her ammo somewhere?'

That's cheating,' Junpachi-sensei says, but his eyes sparkle.

So?'

You might have enough time to get these to here before she gets

there,' he points to a hall several rooms ahead of Fuuko, and slides three

twenty-round high-cap P-14 mags across the table to Mikura-sensei.

She snatches them up and runs off, out the door then onto the roof of

the course.

I change mags, the little seven-round mags lasting only a room at a

time. A quick feel of my pocket shows that I'm almost out of them, too.

Fuuko snatches up the three mags which just happen to be laying in

the hallway, and stuffs one into her LBV, holsters the Kel-Tec, and draws the

P-14s, seating a mag, working the slide, tucking the gun under her chin, then

drawing the one from her left shoulder.

Good job,' Mikura-sensei greets me.

But in real life you're not going to find ammo just lying around when

you run low,' Junpachi-sensei tells me.

I know. Thank you,' I bow.

Dear Fuuko,

Very cold, here, I've had to bundle up, and wear tights. Fukae-kun

took a picture, so we're sending a copy.

You look really cute in your pictures, a little butch, maybe, but

strong.

We've done nothing of interest, here, just a little bit of basketball.

Fukae-kun and Himejima-kun are cute, still, and your friend Saeko-kun

seems smitten, but I'm not sure if she notices it yet. Tanaka Mariko-kun is

from the Crimson group, but they've been hanging out together everyday, pretty

much since you left. They're somehow even cuter than Fukae-kun and

Himejima-kun.

If you've already volunteered, that's fine, but if not, I'd really

like it . . . I'd really appreciate . . . I wish you wouldn't go to

Afganistan. I'll worry about you constantly, if you do.

The vice-principal seems to have calmed down, since I told her to stop

interfering in everyone else's love life, and try to get on with her own. She

looked at me like I'm dumber than dirt, which, actually, is fairly common for

her, then asked "What love life?" and I told her, "Your crush on the principal

will cause you nothing but pain if you don't tell her, or let it go," and she

turned the most lovely shade of red, and stormed off.

The next morning the principal was staring at her funny, so I guess

she really does have a crush on her. They've been seen walking closer

together than they used to, but no one has seen them holding hands, although

they have a child they were seen with a couple times last week, a little girl

who looks a lot like the vice-principal. Perhaps she has a reason for

disliking men?

Thank you for saying I'd look cute as a guy -- perhaps you would too,

although you'd need to practice that little-guy swaggar, and then we could

could go to a gay-male bar as a couple, and dance. You'd have to protect me,

of course, if anything happened

Everyone was glad to hear from you, and I put the letters I got in

the envelope with this one. They thought you looked lovely in your pictures,

and fished out the tape to mark how tall you are now on the wall. They want

to know if that five centimeters is in your boots or out of them, and if out,

how tall the heels on your boots are.

Five weeks, when this letter gets to you?

Love,

Hibiki

I reread that confused paragraph about Afganistan, close my eyes, and

look towards my pituitary gland. Fuzzy meta-random shapes fill my vision, and

I try to ignore them, sort out my feelings on the matter.

Ice cream.

Fuuko winces, initials by each item, then signs the issue record, sets

the cardboard box onto the rosewood box, and picks them both up.

Thank you,' she tells the young youma man behind the counter.

You're welcome,' he says, strips out the carbon paper, pulls his copy

from the others, and hands her the other two copies.

I check the instructions on the KTOG web site one more time, nod, and

finish reassembling my Kel-Tec, after a little careful preliminary deburring,

polishing, greasing, and a light coat of Militech. We have another week of

pistol work, as a group, so I'll have time to run them all in.

The .45s are a little heavy on my back, but compared to the breast and

back, it's not much at all. I don't think I'll wear them, normally, once I

get back to school, though, the collar of my uniform's little cape is too

tight. The Kel-Tec's holster should fit easily on my short LBV, and keep it

out of sight.

Fuuko reaches behind her head, cracks the thumb-breaks, and draws both

P-14s. She brings them to bear, thumbs the safeties down, and opens up at the

target, ten meters down the range.

Six rounds in, the left gun jams, half-way into battery.

Fuuko sighs, safes the right-hand gun, sets it down on the bench,

pointing down-range, and draws the slide of the left slowly, letting the

ejected round fall on the bench, and drops the slide again. The next round

feeds, and so do the next five, then it jams again, then the last round

feeds. Fuuko drops the magazine, and unloads the other gun.

She calls the target back, and looks at her group. There is a pair

of holes right next to each other, center of mass. The other ten holes

cluster closely around them, some a little high, some a little low, none more

than six centimeters from the center.

It keeps jamming on me,' I tell Mikura-sensei, who was watching me,

What do I do?' She carries an M1911, so she may know.

How is it jamming?'

It's not feeding all the way,' I show her the rounds that jammed, UMC

jacketed hollowpoints, The tip is all scratched, but nothing else is shiny,

so where's it catching up? It shouldn't be in the chamber,' I show her my

extracted barrel, Since there's nothing showing there, and the round drops in

easily enough when I push it by hand,' I slide one in, and back out.

Check your feed ramp,' she says.

Fuuko loads the felt wheel with rouge, the flex-shaft spinning at

half-speed, and then carefully polishes at the feed ramp of what she already

thinks of as her left-hand P-14 SMS, the quarter-horsepower motor whining.

The right isn't giving her any trouble, but she thinks she'll give its

feed ramp a little shining, too, just so it doesn't feel left out.

I draw the SMSs, point, thumb both safeties down, and open up at the

fifty-meter target.

Seven seconds later, I drop both fourteen-round mags, grip the right

hand gun between my left arm and my side, barrel and slide warm, but not yet

hot enough to be uncomfortable, strip a pair of twenty-round mags from my LBV,

lock both into place, grab the right-hand gun again, cross my wrists, drawing

the slide on the left gun back a bit with my right wrist while I press the

slide release on the right gun down with the back of my left hand and a twitch

of my right. I seperate my hands quickly enough, this time, that I don't

pinch anything, and bring both back onto the target.

It takes twenty seconds to empty both mags and relaod.

I do it one more time, then set both guns, barrels hot, slides locked

back, on the bench and call back the target.

There's a large hole where its center of mass used to be, and a few

single holes up and down the torso and head, generally on the centerline of

the target.

With a little smile, Misoono Asami-sensei greets the group, So,

having finally managed,' she looks at Fuuko, Well, for most of you, it's

finally,' she smiles, and the group laughs, To obtain decent speed and

accuracy with a pistol, it is time for something completely different.'

It really isn't completely different at all. Most of it is just the

same, it's just that the range is longer, so I have to be still longer. I

pull the charging handle of my M14D, chambering the first round in the

magazine, then pull the rifle's butt firmly to my shoulder. Well, and rifles

kick a lot harder.

Definately something preternatural there,' Maruyama-sensei says.

Is it physical, or mental?'

Target, I think,' Asami-sensei says, She knows where to shoot, every

time.'

But she misses, sometimes.'

Yes, but that's physical, she pulls it, or flinches, or doesn't

breath right. Her aim's always dead on, though.'

Hmm.'

Dear Hibiki,

We had snow, last night. It's mostly gone, now, though, and we have

mud instead.

Training is fun, although I think I bruised my shoulder with the M14D,

which is a strengthened M14 chambered in .30-'97, instead of 7.62 NATO.

.30-'97 is the same size as .30-'06, but uses a stronger case and modern

powder, providing an even flatter trajectory. It kicks really hard, which is

why I think I'm bruised, despite the M14D's rubber buttpad. I haven't looked,

but it rather hurts.

We started rifles with cute little .22LR plinkers, then shifted to

5.56 NATO, and now are getting into real cartridges (.22 long rifle is a

fairly potent cartridge, considering that it has no kick. Don't shoot people

with it, unless you don't mind them dying. 5.56 NATO will kill people pretty

easily, if they're not armored, but it will take a while if you don't just

pepper them, unlike .45 ACP hollowpoints, which are liable to kill someone

within minutes of them being shot. .380 auto is pretty good for that, too,

and much more concealable. It works best to double-tap someone with .380

auto, unless you've shot them someplace very vulnerable, like in the eye, and

even then it's a good idea -- they bleed out faster that way.)

I don't know that I want to try the M2s, they say the carbine kicks

pretty bad. They said the M14D had a little kick', so that's not a good

sign. The M2 AR and BR suppossdly have a better hydropneumatic damper, and a

better muzzle brake, so they don't kick as hard. The M2 HB is a

tripod-mounted heavy machine gun, instead of an LMG, so I'm looking forward to

shooting it. It's recoil-operated, too, so it's heavy, even by comparison to

the other M2 rifles.

We'll be using M1996C GPMGs in the squad automatic role next week, so

that will be interesting, too.

The M40 series weapons are being phased out, so we won't get to use

them -- the Dark Kingdom is standardizing on the 18x180 autocannon round to

replace the delicate and overly-sensitive 40mm grenades the M40s used. Plus,

the 18x180 is more space-efficient, with a hundred rounds to the same box that

held forty 40mm grenades. It kicks harder, but enough of us can deal with

that.

What I'm looking forward to, I'm not entirely sure why, are the M1997

B.A.R.s, which have swapable barrels, only weigh about five pounds more than

the M14Ds, and are more suited, perhaps, to the S.A.W. role, and definately

have a nicer feel, to my own way of thinking, anyway.

We did subguns, too, and I like the M3s -- they're dead simple, I

think that's why. The FN P90 is nice, too, but I don't like it as well,

probably because of the tiny round -- I think I've become a bit of a

size-bigot, I hope you don't mind

I haven't volunteered for Afganistan, yet, but I really think I will,

because I really think I need to do it. My Pashtu is getting better, and my

English is passible, now, but I don't have enough time for any other language

classes, even though Korean is supposed to be really easy, and sounds almost

like I should know it. Chinese is too ornate right now, and I'm not going to

try Arabic until I've got Pashtu down, despite the fact that Soufan, he's

Somali, he took the name of the Chinese Dark Kingdom warrior who saved his

life, when he was a little boy, or littler, anyway, has offered to teach me.

I know Mariko-chan, not very well, but enough to recognize her. She

and Saeko would look absolultely adorable together, I'm sure.

The principal and vice-principal, together? That'd be soo cute.

Send picutes, if anyone has some. The vice-principal may have a daughter? I

hope she's not as horrible as her mother, for her sake.

It's now six centimeters, without my boots, nine with, a hundred and

fifty-four barefoot, a hundred fifty-seven booted.

That'd be fun, dancing with you, that is, man and woman, man and man,

or woman and woman, although I'm most partial to the last option.

Three weeks, when I'm sending this letter. Tell everyone thanks for

their letters, I really appreciated them.

Sorry for just dumping on you, with all the weapon's stuff, but I find

it fascinating right now. So much effort and engineering put to quickly and

efficiently killing people.

Love,

Fuuko

What kind of an answer to the question of Do I feel adult, or do I still need

more experience?' is Ice Cream'?

Fuuko rubs her shoulder, unloading the bible-sized thirty-round

magazine from the M2 carbine and setting both aside.

She keeps her kabuto and eye protection on, watching as Honoka

switches the selector to full auto, and squeezes off a three-round burst with

a quick squeeze of her finger. A solid seeming jet of flame accompanies the

shattering BLABLABLAM, and the line of bullets climbs to the right, nearly

cutting the target in half.

Honoka smiles, and Fuuko rubs her shoulder again.

The M2 assault rifle and battle rifle are both bullpup designs, with

the action behind the trigger, keeping the overall length down, despite the

long barrels, seventy-five centimeters for the assault rifle, and a hundred

and ten for the battle rifle.

The assault rifle is kinda funny-looking, somehow stubby, like an

AKS-74U. The battle rifle is more normal looking, if you discount the fact

that the magazine looks like a missle-launcher mag from a Gundam series.

Fuuko sets the M2 BR into the bore-sight device, and adjusts the

sights, mechanical zero for her left eye at three hundred meters.

Asami-sensei nods, That's good,' she approves Fuuko's work, Let me

see your right shoulder?' she asks, gesturing.

I think it's just bruised,' Fuuko says.

Let me see it anyway?'

Fuuko shrugs, sets the heavy rifle down, then sheds her top and

t-shirt, a large purple bruise showing over the straps of her sports bra.

Asami hisses, reaches out, looks at Fuuko, who nods, and probes

gently.

Fuuko hisses when Asami rubs her fingers along her collarbone, just a

few centimeters from her shoulder.

Let me get someone who's better at diagnostics,' Asami says, and

starts off at Fuuko's nod.

Not quite broken. Apparently I managed something few people do, a

cracked collarbone. I'm not to use any firearms right-handed until it's

healed.

Dear Fuuko,

Just a tiny bit of snow, here, too. It was nice. It's mostly melted,

but I got to drag the students out for a snow ball fight, and I helped the

principal put snow down the vice-principal's shirt. That was very funny, she

yelled, and squeeked, and pulled her shirt almost off before she realized the

entirety of my class was watching, then she just shook it.

She started to yell at me, and I was laughing so hard I couldn't

defend myself beyond pointing at the principal, who was sneeking up behind her

to try again. At that point the vice-principal grabbed up a double-handful of

snow and rubbed it in the princpal's face, and they ended up rolling around on

the ground, ending up with her flat on her back, with the principal straddling

her holding her hands down into the snow. I felt a need to wash out my eyes

with soap after that, but I managed to stop myself.

Picutes attached.

I looked online for pictures of the weapons you mentioned, but won't

even pretend to know what you were talking about.

We got to see her daughter, last week. She's a cute little girl, and

not nearly as horrible as her mother. Her mother's been actually mellow,

since she and the principal started whatever they're up to.

I hope you're having fun. I miss you badly. Make the decision you

need to make, about Afganistan, and I'll live with it.

More letters, from just about everyone.

Two weeks and five days, as I send this.

Love,

Hibiki

It sounds, to me, like I need more experience', but I wish it didn't.

Dear Hibiki,

No more snow, just mud.

I broke, well, cracked, my collar bone. Right-hand side. It hurts a

little bit.

I only got to fire the B.A.R. on the bipod, but it's teh cool.

Thank you for the picutes of the vice-principal getting rolled in the

snow -- I might need them for blackmail

Honoka -- that's Yukishiro-san, the girly one in the background of the

picture I sent you, just adores the M2 battle rifle. The thing is longer than

she is tall, and looks like it weighs as much. She's denser than she looks,

but it is still a significant fraction of her body weight.

She can hit anything out to five hundred meters with all three rounds

of a three-round burst, well, anything larger than a 1-pound coffee can.

Two weeks.

I miss you horribly.

Love,

Fuuko

I was afraid that's what it meant.

Fuuko glares at the pile of papers in front of her, then picks up the

top printout, and starts to read.

I nod, looking down at the map, then at the other members of my team,

So,' I look to Asami-sensei, who's our faculty advisor for this run, We need

to take the house, only hostiles are inside, and they know we're here?'

That's right.'

What artillery assets do we have?'

There's a battery of 155mm howitzers seven kilometers away.'

I look over my team, nod, Call for fire,' everyone says along with me.

So, how do you do that?'

Radio,' I tell Sagi, who's been stuck with that job for this run.

He brings it over. I reach for the handset with my right hand, which

is slung so I won't use it too much, then my left.

Pee Ess Vee Seven, this is Dee Ess One Two, Fire Mission.'

Dee Ess One Two, go ahead.'

OK, now, what if you've got assets in the house?'

What kind of assets?'

Equipment, or personnel, perhaps. Either way, you can't just blow

the place up, and you need to prevent the hostiles from destroying your assets

before you can rescue or capture them.'

I glance over my team, and Honoka smiles at me. Nagisa nods, her

hand, as normal, captured by her friend.

We study the place, determine if there's any rush, watch for a good

opportunity, locate all the hostiles. If we can do that, we wait for them to

be distracted, and kill them as quietly as we can.'

And if you need to just rush in, because they're going to kill the

hostages?'

Call for backup,' I shrug, We're not up to it. If there's no

backup, locate as many as we can, kill them from a distance, then bust in and

start room clearing. If we're in segmi, we shouldn't lose anyone, except

possibly the hostages.'

Good enough,' Asami-sensei says, There's a breakable Mcguffen

inside. You should recognize it when you see it.'

Where?'

You'll have to find that out.'

Ryoukai!' I slap my left fist to my heart, and bow.

Asami-sensei smiles, Goof,' she says.

Fuuko sets the bipod of her B.A.R. on a convienient log, with a decent

view of the east side of the house', if the battered, burned shell they're

assaulting can still be called such. It is two stories tall, cinderblock and

steel, mostly roofless, and could charitably called sacred, it has so many

holes.

I'm in position,' Honoka says, over the tactical radio, from her

position on the north side.

Good. Do you have your targets?' Fuuko lines up on the first of

hers, behind a single layer of cinderblock.

Yes.'

Everyone else in position?'

One,' Lee says, in her husky little Chinese-accented voice.

Two,' The Other Lee says, almost squeeking.

Three,' Rogers says.

Four,' Soufan says

Charlie,' Nagisa says.

Just a moment, Dog,' Zhang grunts, dropping into his place.

Easy,' Vasquez replies, cheerful as always.

Zed,' Sagi says, from his position by her shoulder.

Roger. Wait for the command,' Fuuko takes up the slack on her

trigger, Papa, commence firing.'

The two shots sound at the same time.

I get up to follow the others into the house, when One! Don't move,

everyone else out! Booby-trap,' Two calls over the tac, his voice urgent.

I blink, surprised, and look for it. Nothing.

She didn't notice the booby-trap, did she?'

No. The Other Lee noticed it, but not before Lee stepped on it.

Soufan got the Mcguffen out, and everyone else evac'd properly. The Other Lee

found the simulated charge, and disarmed it properly, so we can still count it

as a full success.'

Why didn't they call EOD?'

Because we'd told them they had no backup available.'

Right. The Other Lee works demolitions, doesn't he?'

Not exactly. Apparently he is a Tibetan separatist.'

Oh, dear.'

Yes, but he looked at what nationalism has provided to the Balkans

and South-East Asia, and what has happened to Rwanda, and Afganistan so far,

and has decided to throw in with us.'

That's good, I guess.'

He's very capable, so it is.'

Dear Hibiki,

A little wet, most of the leaves have fallen, quite a bit of mud.

I've gotten complacent, I think -- I can see the targets, even behind

walls, so I thought, no I got to the point where I really believed I had full

situational awareness.

That nearly got my team mock-killed, today. We, Yukishiro and I, hit

all the targets in the building we were assaulting, so when the others went

in, there should have been nothing to worry about, right?

Wrong. Lee hit a booby-trap, and The Other Lee noticed, and got it

disarmed after ordering everyone else out, but it was a close thing.

A week and a half of tactical training, and I pull this. Better to do

it in training that in real life, but I still feel stupid.

We're just going to get an overview of strategy, rather than any

practical experience.

Five days, three of training, one of ceremony, then one of transit,

and I'll be back for a little bit.

Turns out I'll get three weeks, so I can heal up a bit before I go to

Afganistan.

Love,

Fuuko

Dear Fuuko,

We've got snow on the ground, and have had it for nearly a week. I'm

sick of it. I hate slogging through it to work, I hate being splashed with

dirty slush by passing cars, I hate having to wear a coat.

I'm sorry to hear about your collarbone. How long are you going to be

healing? A broken one takes at least eight weeks to just knit, and longer to

regain full strength.

I've got some more picutes of the principal and vice-principal.

They're actually cute, now. I think the vice-principal still wants to get rid

of me, but she's backed off a lot.

Part of it may be that I admitted that the bloomers weren't the best

idea I'd ever had, but were the first thing that came to mind when I saw your

problem with the old uniform skirt. All the students are now in shorts, when

it's warm enough, which seems to have helped to sooth their anger about it,

and is more equal, anyway.

It was your picture that made me think of it, so I'm just an idiot, I

guess.

There's also picutes of the class, and Saeko submitted, with a blush,

one of her and Mariko. I that that was just sweet, but I managed not to say

so.

Do you have any more picutes? Everyone would like some, and if you've

a picture of Yukishiro-san with the M2 BR, Fujio was wanting to see one.

Akira was teasing her about it, but she asked me to ask.

A week and a half, now.

Love,

Hibiki.

I smile, fold the letter, and put it back in the envelope, scented

with her perfume. I'm getting almost handy at this one-handed thing.

Fuuko pulls at her collar, getting the wrinkles out of it, tucks the

bellows on one of her breast-pockets back behind the pocket itself. She looks

up at herself in the mirror again, the black uniform sharp, with red lettering

on the name-tapes. No rank on the collars, no unit patch on the shoulders, no

skills badges, just the hint of a black LBV inside the collar, over the red-brown

t-shirt. The pink ribbon clashes noticeably

With a sigh, she slings the M3 on her back, gathers up her black

tricorn hat, and heads down to formation.

We step forward as our names are called, walking up the five stairs to

the stage, shake hands with Jung-sensei, who's in charge of this training

facility, then Osaka Naru-sama, the Viceroy for Korea, then Rho Tae-ho, the

President of the state of North Korea, and then Sailor Saturn, who hands us

our certificates, and kisses each of us on the cheek.

She stops me, holds a hand to my shoulder for a minute, then lets me

go again, Enjoy your leave,' she says, smiling.

I shift my shoulder, which doesn't hurt anymore, and smile, I will.'

I walk down the other stairs to join the others.

Take a little time, blow some money, enjoy Pyongyang,' Machida-sensei

says, stopping the bus in front of the intra-city train station, Otherwise

the city council will again petition for the trainees to be given passes

during training, which would make it even longer. Your tickets are all for

twenty-two or later, so you've a bit of time.'

Kuzuha nods, but doesn't really feel enthusiastic.

I lock my bag and the duffle into a locker at the train station, check

my Keepsafe with Traveler's Aid, and set out. There are supposed to be some

jewelers in the northern part of the shopping district that's grown up around

the station.

I browse idlely, still rather amazed at how much three month's pay at

a sergeant's scale is. Not enough for an M2 battle rifle, but more than

enough for a B.A.R. and spending money, on top of what I've already bought. I

pause at a clothing shop, rifle the wares.

Can I help you?' the saleswoman asks, stepping up, a lovely, genuine

smile on her face, the M3A2 slung and clipped at her back painted in a gloss

black metalflake.

I'm looking for an M1997 B.A.R., and a +5 ring of protection.'

She looks a little disappointed, Is the ring for yourself, or someone

else?'

Someone else,' I smile.

Do you know her ring size?'

My smile gets a little broader at her use of a feminine pronount, No,

I don't.'

Then you should probably try Madegan's, they're up the street on the

left. For the B.A.R., I've heard good things about Mariko's, and I know Fifty

Meter is very helpful.'

Thanks,' I look back at the rack of jackets, Do you mind if I look

around for a little bit?'

Not at all, not at all,' she smiles.

I end up dropping three tuits on clothes.

The little woman behind the counter looks up at Fuuko's entrance.

Irashai!' she calls, a smile further creasing her dark brown face.

Hello,' Fuuko answers, looking around, I'm looking for an M1997

B.A.R.'

The shopkeep looks Fuuko over, I've got a used one in good condition,

some of the parkerization has worn off from being carried, but otherwise it's

in great shape,' she heads towards the back of the shop, And I've new ones,

too, if you'd prefer.'

Let me see the used one?'

There's a young-looking youma man behind the counter at Fifty Meter,

Irashai,'

I'm looking for an M1997 B.A.R. Do you have any at the moment?'

That one's sold, the new owner's supposed to come back for it

sometime this afternoon. I can order you one, have it here tomorrow?'

No,' I demure, I'm flying out tonight,' I look in the case, Could I

see the PPK?'

Fuuko looks at the bag in her hand, contining a box of .380 auto JHPs

and a Keepsafe 2, which, in turn, contains four layers of soft foam rubber, a

Berretta M1934, and six magazines, Well,' she says, I guess I didn't really

need those three and a half tuits.'

I stuff the little Keepsafe into one of the magazine slots, check that

the seven mags I got with it are loaded, then close the Keepsafe 9, and sling

it across my back. It's only another fifteen kilos, so it shouldn't be that

horrible, right? Right.

Thank you very much,' I tell the shopkeep, who makes the normal

polite noises back.

Kuzuha is still in her parade blacks as she steps off the plane at

Narita International Airport, in Tokyo. The Keepsafe 9 is supplemented by a

larger wheeled case she pulls from the conveyor, and Customs gives her a very

perfunctory once-over after a check with Megumi confirms her status as a Dark

Kingdom Citizen.

She stops at the Dark Kingdom Traveler's Aid booth and checks the

Keepsafe 9, dithers a moment, then decides to keep the SMSs with her.

Kuzuha walks to the subway terminal, and pays for a ticket, stands

next to the yellow line.

I watch people in the mirror on the other side of the track, which

replaced one of the ads normally there. It's strange, how differently people

act around me, now. When I left, they stood close, pretty much ignoring me,

other than a quick glance of she's cute.'

Now it's the quick she's cute,' then some people step closer, into my

protective aura, and others step back, away from any danger my mere presence

brings.

Some of them present a tiny bit of danger, but none of them more than

a faint background worry. I smile, happy to be back in Japan, and wait for my

train.

One of the girls clustered around Fuuko squeaks, and Fuuko turns to look

at the groper, You should stop doing that,' she tells him.

He blushes, What? I--'

Fuuko cuts him off, If people don't follow the small rules of good

behavior, how are they going to follow the big rules?'

I,' He stops, and bows his head, I was wrong,' he says, and tries to

look small, scooting away when the doors open, and a few people pile out, and

more pile in.

The girl looks at Fuuko in surprise, Wow,' she says, That was

surprising.'

It shouldn't be,' Fuuko tells her.

I climb up the stairs to ground-level at Tokyo Station, and think

about walking over to look at the Imperial Palace, since it's right here, then

decide it's dark enough to let that wait for another time, and walk up the

three steps into the Marunouchi South Gate, smiling at the old man sitting on

the steps.

He smiles back.

I look at the schedules, find the right train, and wince at the price

for a Shinkansen ticket, but feed the machine ten thousand yen bills anyway.

I feed the gate my tickets, walk through with my case, up to the

tracks over the pale spotted floor.

About a half-hour later, my train arrives. I find my car, and my

seat, and settle down. When the woman with the food cart comes by, about a

half-hour after we start, I buy a bento, coffee, and ice cream. I eat the

ice cream first, before it can melt, drink the coffee and eat the bento more

slowly.

I wad and tuck the empty packaging into the smallest ball I can, and

set it aside to deal with later.

I watch the darkened landscape pass, and try to keep from falling

asleep.

Fuuko steps out of the station, finally, glancing around for a taxi,

since she doesn't feel like walking anymore, after three train changes since

Tokyo. With a sigh, she notices that there aren't any, which is

understandable, considering it's nearly three.

Kuzuha?'

Kuzuha?' Sensei's voice calls.

I look to the left again, towards the bench at the bus stop.

Sensei looks tired, and a little cold, despite being bundled up, but

happy to see me.

I grab up my case, throw it onto my back, and run over, dropping it

unceremoniously at her feet before throwing myself into her arms.

She staggars, takes a step back, hugs me hard.

Fuuko is pulling her case, walking hand in hand with Hibiki.

I should,' Hibiki starts, again, then yawns.

You're more tired than I am,' Fuuko tells her, swinging their hands

out of the way, and bumping her with her hip.

I guess,' Hibiki says, But I'm the--' she cuts herself off.

Yes, you're the old and feeble one, so I should have the bag.'

Horrible woman,' Hibiki answers.

Aren't I, though?' Fuuko smiles up at her.

Hibiki shakes her head, smiling.

Are you sure?' Hibiki asks again, watching as I unlock my case.

I'm sure,' I tell her, I'm not going to make them find me a room for

three weeks, particularly when I don't expect to use it much.'

What?' Hibiki asks, blinking. She looks a little odd, in Bra Man's

clothes.

I came here intending to spend as much time with you as I can, so,' I

shrug, Why would I want to be anywhere else?'

She turns back to the mirror, I live as a man, outside of school.'

I said I'd keep you, even as a man,' I shrug, watching her strip her

face, And I want to see if I lied.'

I don't think you would,' Hibiki sprays something on his hair, and it

darkens to Bra Man's black.

I'd like to think not,' I drop the mag on my left SMS, and she

watches as I unload it, fit the gun into its cutout in my Keepsafe, then its

sister. I slot the magazines into their holes, and strip the others out of my

LBV, slotting them away as well, Can I keep this here? Is it secure?'

Only me and Baa-chan come down here,' Hibiki tells me, his voice

changing mid-sentence as he takes his choker off.

Good enough,' I close the box, and it flashes a green light at me,

then goes back to pretending to be a normal painted metal box.

Can someone open that, if they steal it?' Hibiki asks me.

Not so far as we know, not without destroying the contents.'

How so?'

It's made out of L.A., and it's got a simple enough structure that the

cap'll keep it alive for over a hundred years, and the cap recharges quickly

in any normal environment, so,' I shrug, and if you put enough energy into it

to force it open the whole thing will go up.'

Can the lock be jimmied?'

No one's found a way yet, and it's been published for the last few

years.'

Then why are you worried?'

Because I've got several hundred thousand yen worth of equipment in

that box,' I start to strip out, pulling my top off, and fishing out a set of

PTs.

Hibiki blushes, and turns away.

And it's better not to have to go looking for it,' He's as red as a

beet, Ain't nothing you haven't seen before,' I tell him, pulling off the

black t-shirt and sports bra.

Yes, it is,' he says, eyes firmly shut.

Goof,' I tell him, pull my PT shirt on, then plop down to pull off my

socks.

Maybe,' he says.

Stop,' I tell him, This isn't the first time we've been in the same

bed,' as he pulls out a second futon, and starts to set it up. He turns at my

touch, and he looks so scared. I blink at him, It'll be alright,' I tell

him, like he told me, when we first met.

You're sure?' he asks.

I'm sure,' I tell him firmly, and press myself to his back in a hug,

resting my head on his shoulder, suddenly tired again.

OK,' he nods, and wraps his hands about mine.

Hibiki is flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, Fuuko draped

halfway over him. He pulls his hand back, setting it to his side, and Fuuko

makes a protesting noise, and drags it back, tucking it under her chin.

He sighs, and looks down at the short-haired woman in his arms. It

should be that simple, but it isn't, he sighs. He determinedly closes his

eyes again, and tries to go to sleep.

He wiggles in his sleep, a lot. I capture his hand again, and pretend

to be asleep. Last time, I was able to sleep, but then, last time, I'd barely

met her.

Fuuko?' he asks softly.

Yes?'

You haven't been asleep, either, have you?'

No, not really,' I say, keeping my eyes closed.

Guess we'll both be really tired tomorrow, then.'

Probably.'

We could try running around or doing some exercises, so we're more

tired and can sleep.'

We could.'

So, shall we?'

Sure, might as well,' I shift, then sit back on my heels,

Challenge?'

Challenge?' Hibiki asks, confused.

Push-ups, alternating, first to a hundred?'

Um,' he looks a little less confused, but not much.

Good. Prepare to lose, wuss!'

Hey!' he says, then What's a wuss?'

Slack-ass, goof-off, incompetent-by-lack-of-effort person.'

Oh. What did I just agree to?'

Watch,' I set myself, feet apart, off the futon, and start with my

right hand, down and up, One,' then my left hand, down and up, Two.'

I've lost,' he tells me.

I set back onto my heels, look at him, Then we'll go until we can't

push anymore, and call it good.'

I don't think I can do one?'

And you call yourself a PE teacher!' I give him my best challenging

look.

Let me try, then,' he sets himself, feet together, and manages to

keep it together until he gets to the floor, but falls over on the way up.

Feet further apart,' I say.

Like this?' he shifts them about thirty centimeters further apart.

Try it,' I tell him, even though they're not far enough apart for

good stability.

He does, with his left hand, and gets all the way back up, but falls

again on the right, Little further?' he asks from the floor.

Try it,' I tell him, smiling.

He stares up at me for a moment, then smiles, shifts his feet, and

tries again.

He falls on his face after ten, and can't get back up.

Ten's pretty good, for a first try,' I tell him, and drop back into

position.

I'm sweating lightly after forty. I look up at him, pause, nearly

laugh at the surprised, happy look on his face.

I'm dripping after sixty, and he's got this lovely awed look.

I drop on my face after the hundredth one, and roll onto my side,

What's with that look?' I ask him, panting a little.

Wow,' he shakes his head, You're just so awesome, and you were my

student.'

Good. Give me ten more,' I tell him.

He visibly sags, then rolls onto his belly, and starts.

Hibiki is curled up on the floor, his head pillowed on his futon, with

Fuuko curled against his back, both of them deeply asleep, soft grey light

slinking into the room.

Ruru walks in, and stops before them, a little smile on her face.

After a moment she draws her revolver.

Fuuko's blinking at her, Kel-Tec in her hand, Ruru-baa-chan?' she

asks, shifting the pistol to a safe direction, as Ruru has done.

Good reflexes, girl,' Ruru's revolver disappears back into her

clothes.

Right,' Fuuko sits back, yawns into the back of her left hand, then

clips the Kel-Tec back into her shorts, just behind her right hip, and pulls

the excess material of her tucked-in t-shirt out over it.

He still asleep?'

Yeah, I think I wore him out,' Fuuko smiles.

What did you do? Since I don't think you,' Ruru shakes her head, I

don't think he'd let you do that.'

He wouldn't, even if I tried. Twenty alternating, and then two

vertical. I had to hold his feet for those.'

Alternating? Vertical?'

Push-ups. Alternating single-handed, and vertical.'

Heh. I knew they said the Dark Kingdom was hard-core, but that's a

bit much for this old woman.'

It was better than laying around and pretending to sleep,' Fuuko

stands, and starts to stretch.

Are you going to take him for a run?'

Maybe, but taking her would be safer for her disguise,' Fuuko prods

Hibiki gently with her foot.

Hibiki wakes up, with a lot of blinking, and a groan. I smile, she's

so cute, even when she's a he, if that makes any sense, I'll have to hit

myself with a frying pan, one of the cast iron ones.

Get your face on,' I say, Lets go for a run,' and I smile down at

him.

Wha-,' he starts, then nods, I guess so,' he says, and staggers on

all fours into the closet, vanishing out of sight quickly.

You're taller,' Ruru-baa-chan says, It looks good on you.'

Thanks,' I smile back, Just sit on the cushion, and it will take me

down there?'

Pretty much.'

OK,' I close the closet door behind me.

The couch drops quickly, then dumps me into a smooth-surfaced tunnel,

and down I go, head over heals. I land with a thump next to Hibiki, who's

almost got her face on, That was fun,' I tell her, and sit up, rubbing the

back of my head, which I struck a few times on the way down.

You figure out how to avoid tumbling down the tunnel after a couple

times,' she says, the choker back around her neck.

That's good,' I say, check the Kel-Tec, then walk over and pull a

clean pair of socks and my next pair of boots out.

You run in those?'

Yeah,' I shrug, It was difficult at first, but I figured it out

after a little while, and it stopped hurting.'

They had you running in boots?' she sounds so upset. It's lovely.

No, but they all ran in them, and they always outran us,' I shrug,

step up close, and wrap my arms around her shoulders, leaning over to look at

her in the mirror, So most of us tried it, and some of us kept at it until we

could do it.'

So they didn't force you, or tell you you should?' she asks.

No, several of them told us we shouldn't, that lots of people did

themselves permanent damage running in boots.'

But you did it anyway.'

Yep! They told us not do verticals, too, but that didn't stop us

either,' I give her another squeeze, and let go.

OK,' she says, I wish,' she shakes her head, That just scares me a

little, is all.'

They're not much heavier than my running shoes, but I could wear

those, if you really want me too.'

If you want to wear the boots, wear the boots, then.'

Then I shall,' I tell her, and sit down to put on my socks.

Fuuko adjusts her LBV under her urban-camoflauge top, stretching a

little, I can't believe you won't even get in the bathroom with me.'

It's too soon,' Hibiki says, putting her face back on.

You act like I haven't spent the last three months with communal

co-ed showers.'

You may have, but I haven't,' Hibiki says, So, what was it like,

with all those girls, and guys?'

Open bay, all of us in one room, no privacy except what you can lock

up in your wall-locker or steal while everyone else was asleep. No walls on

the showers, going to chow in a big group, lots of hard work, and less

bullshit than the American soldiers go through.'

How do you know?'

I looked it up, googled it. American soldiers get a whole lot more

hurry up and wait, random shit, and just stupidity from their version of BCT.

Most of their version is hurry up and wait, and random shit, with a lot less

time put to real learning. Of course, they don't have as high of an

instructor to trainee ratio, so they can't put as much individual attention

in.'

Oh. So they aren't as trained as you?'

Not most of them, I don't think.'

That's not good.'

Not for them, no. You don't have to go through BCT to be deployable,

you can just show up and get OJT'd--'

OJT'd?'

On the Job Trained. If you do that, you're probably at about the

level of an American soldier fresh out of school, since Dark Kingdom kids get

most of what American soldiers get in BCT as part of their normal curriculum.'

Done,' Hibiki plops down next to Fuuko, and pulls her shoes on,

Shall we go?'

Fuuko's back!' goes the murmor through the students walking up the

road.

Everyone turns to look at me as I walk beside Hibiki, my left hand

twined in her right. I wave, smiling, and my friends wave back.

The vice-principal steps up when Fuuko walks in the gate with Hibiki,

Fuuko-chan,' she starts, Are you back with us?'

Just for a little bit of leave. I'm going to Afganistan in another

couple weeks, but I'll be back at the beginning of the next school year.'

It would be appreciated if you wear the proper uniform while you are

here,' she says.

Even though I'm just visiting?'

Even though.'

I will tomorrow,' Fuuko says, smiling, I hear you and the Principal

have been getting along very well.'

Yes,' the vice-principal blushes, tries to hide behind her

chin-length blonde hair.

Good. I wish you all happiness,' Fuuko goes up on tip-toes and

kisses the taller woman on the cheek.

Kuzuha!' she gasps, stepping back, shock in her green eyes, her hand

pressed to her cheek.

Fuuko,' Hibiki says, chiding, but the amusement in her darker green

eyes is obvious to Fuuko.

Don't worry, vice-principal, it's just a Dark Kingdom ritual. It's

for luck,' Fuuko says, smiling widely.

OK,' she nods, Call me Reiko, then,' and walks off.

Fuuko blinks, surprised.

Even I don't get to call her Reiko,' Hibiki says.

You are an employee,' Fuuko says, But I'm a random adult, perhaps?'

Hibiki smiles down at me, Perhaps.'

Homeroom is quite disrupted, but that is to be expected, since I

showed up in my c3s, rather than the normal uniform, but everyone is either

nice or polite about it.

PE finally rolls around, and I smile at the others before changing

into my PTs. I shake my head, distracted, strip off my top.

What are those?' someone asks.

EEP,' someone else gasps, and I hear a thump.

I turn around, and look. Forteen year old girls staring at me in

various degrees of shock, and various degrees of undress.

EEP!' a couple shriek, and cover themselves.

I sit down, and begin to laugh.

What was that all about?' Hibiki asks.

I pulled my top off,' Fuuko pulls the back of her collar out,

Everyone saw those, and a couple of them freaked, and then I turned around,

and a couple more of them freaked.'

What, they thought that since you like girls, you were going to

molest them or something?'

No, I think they're just shy, and hadn't realized how much they were

showing. I don't really know.'

Vaulting horse, again?' I ask, looking over the equipment laid out.

Yes,' Hibiki smiles, You shouldn't have any problems with it now,

even in combats and boots.'

Class Threes, or BDUs, if you're being all army-like,' I tell her, Can

I show off a bit?'

Sure,' her smile gets bigger, Surprise me.'

OK,' I step forward, line up, and run, leaping easily just before the

vault, pulling a left-handed roundoff on the center of the horse, drawing as I

drop to the ground behind it, tuck myself into its cover', looking back the

way I came, thumb under the safety, SMS pointed in a safe direction.

Hibiki claps.

Someone drops, and puts his head between his knees, breathing heavily.

Maybe you shouldn't be showing off,' the principal says, walking up

while I reholster the gun.

So,' Hibiki says, slightly uncomfortable, Where are we going?'

Out,' Fuuko shakes her shoulders, trying to get her blouse to settle

over the LBV, Could you twitch that? It's hanging up on something.'

What?' Hibiki asks.

My blouse. I've worn it with these before, so it should hang right,'

Fuuko frowns at the mirror, You don't need to watch the floor like that.'

But,' Hibiki looks up, looks down, blushes.

Get over here,' Fuuko grabs her hand, and pulls her closer, Look at

my back, and unhang my blouse,' she orders.

Could you get your skirt on first?' Hibiki asks plaintively.

It took me two weeks to get used to showering with the rest of my

platoon,' Fuuko says, But you're a guy.'

I'm not dressed as one,' Hibiki demures.

Then you should be used to undressed girls.'

But I'm not,' Hibiki whines, placing her hand on Fuuko's shoulder

before opening her eyes.

Goof,' Fuuko says.

Yes,' Hibiki smiles, twitches the black fabric, That better?'

Much,' Fuuko turns, slips up onto her toes, and kisses her on the

lips.

The black skirt, tights and blouse are very fetching, if I say so

myself, and Hibiki's quite entranced, too. I smile at her in the mirror, and

lead her out, putting on my boots at the doorway.

She laughs, just a little, That's so cute,' she manages after a

little bit.

I look up at her after I tie the laces, and tuck the ends into the

second boot's collar, What?'

The combat boots and skirt,' she shakes her head, It's not that

unusual now, I know, but it tickled something,' she reaches down, and helps me

to my feet.

I watch her as she gets her shoes on, little pale purple slip-ons that

add another five or six centimeters to her height, something about the shape

of her as she bends over to adjust one of them just utterly fascinating. I

file the feeling away for a little later, and reach out a hand.

She takes it, and lets me lead her out.

Fuuko drags her taller companion around in the gathering dusk, to yet

another store.

Hibiki is giggling, slightly giddy, So, what are we going to do this

weekend?'

I hadn't decided, but I have now,' Hibiki says, a smile lighting her

face at a display.

Oh?'

We're going to go play in the snow,' she turns to face Hibiki,

Unless you've a better idea?'

Sounds fun,' Hibiki agrees, Where are we going to find this snow?'

Hokkaido,' Fuuko grabs Hibiki's hands, We'll catch the night train

tomorrow night, and snowshoe about for a couple days, then come home so you

can teach class on Monday.'

Oh?' Hibiki says, And are we going to sleep in the snow, too?'

Nope!' Fuuko says. She turns towards the store that inspired this

plan, and draws Hibiki inside.

I run ahead, fifteen kilos of gear light on my back, the snowshoes

making a happy crunch crunch in the snow.

Hibiki's gasping along behind, burdened only by his Camelbak, barely

able to keep up.

I pause, turn, So, who's underdressed?' I ask, as he stops, and drops

his hands to his knees, blowing for a moment, before reaching to open his top.

Not me,' he gasps, I haven't had the chance to play in the snow for a

long time,' he pauses, still breathing hard, So I'd forgotten how easy it is

to overheat.'

Listen to the expert, then, next time!' I smile at him, cup his face

in my hands, and kiss him on the lips.

He smiles, then his eyes roll back in his head and he falls face-first

into the snow.

Amawa Hibiki wakes up with a soft, warm weight on his chest. He

blinks up at the strange roof, then realizes it's the inside of the tent Fuuko

bought.

He wiggles out of the sleeping bag, and picks up his Camelbak from

where it fell off his chest, setting it back on the bag.

He peeks out the tent doorflap. Fuuko has the stove going, a full pot

of snow melting slowly in it, and is sitting to one side, hands glowing

slightly, glaring at the little pile of kindling in front of her.

A bright flash comes from the pile, and a puff of smoke, which

vanishes quickly.

Fuuko groans, and flops back into the snow, How the heck does one do

that! It should be so easy, yet. Bah!' she rolls over, grabs two handfuls of

snow up in her gloved hands, and rubs it on her face.

What's up?'

Trying to get a fire going. I can light a cigarette, so a fire

should be easy,' she shrugs, But it's not going too well.'

Hmm,' Hibiki says, then ducks back into the tent, and pulls the rest

of his clothes back on, stamping into his boots before stepping out, Let me

see?'

Sure,' Fuuko smiles up at him, I've gathered a bunch of small, dry

sticks, piled them up so the fire can propagate, and I've been trying to light

them.'

How small are your smallest sticks?' Hibiki asks, settling

cross-legged beside Fuuko.

Smaller than the ones Machiyama-sensei would use.'

Ah, all about this size?'

Yep.'

Knife?'

Here,' Fuuko hands over her belt-knife, a clip-point fixed blade

about thirty centimeters overall.

Hibiki takes it gravely, then pulls a stick off the pile, and starts

to shave it, You can light a stick like this with a lighter, but not a match.

However, if you cut fine flakes like this, you can light them with a match,

and that will let you get the fire going.'

Oh!' Fuuko smiles, Did your father teach you that?'

My grandmother, actually, when I had to go live with her in the

country for a little while. It was really hard at first, but then I got used

to it, and it was fun.'

Could we go visit her, then?'

She passed away, my second year in college. Made me promise I'd

follow my dreams, and never give up.'

Oh,' Fuuko hugs him tightly as he finishes shaving a fourth stick,

then remakes the pile.

Try again,' Hibiki encourages.

Fuuko scowls at the pile, and a bright flash of light flares out,

followed by a tiny jet of flame, then a whisp of smoke.

Hibiki leans in, and blows softly. The smoke vanishes, and a red glow

suffuses the pile. He pauses, takes a breath, smoke rising, then blows on it

again.

He pulls back, and flames reach up to lick at the thicker sticks

further up in the pile.

Thanks,' Fuuko says, and hugs him.

Where's the other bag?' Hibiki asks, after dinner.

There's only the one, didn't want to carry a bag we wouldn't be

using,' she smiles down at him, short enough to stand upright in the tent.

But,' Hibiki says.

What, afraid for your virtue? I won't force you,' Fuuko giggles a

little.

But,' Hibiki blushes, You're fourteen.'

I've passed my Tests. You're just an adult by default, so I'd be

taking advantage of you, if anything happens.'

But.'

Nothing will happen, unless we both want it to, OK?'

Hibiki nods, a worried look still on his face.

Good!' Fuuko nods, and bends over at the waist to dig something out

of her pack.

Hibiki whimpers at the sight, and Fuuko turns to smile a him, Did you

see something nice?'

Yes,' Hibiki says, and blushes.

I hoped so,' Fuuko says, then comes up to whisper in his ear, I, to

put it most bluntly, nearly creamed my jeans, well, tights, yesterday, when you

did that in front of me.'

What?' Hibiki gasps, jerking back.

You make a very pretty woman, Hibiki,' Fuuko drops to her knees in

front of the already kneeling Hibiki, But that isn't the only thing I like

about you,' she pulls out a white ring box, and opens it, exposing the

solitaire diamond ring inside, This is a ring of protection, plus five, in

Dark Kingdom parliance. Would you wear it for me?'

Does this mean what I think it means?'

If you think it means I want to keep you forever, want you to be my

bride, raise our kids with me, then yes, it does.'

Fuuko!' Hibiki nods, decisively, I'll wear it for you.'

Fuuko slips the ring on his finger, and kisses him, deeply.

After several minutes, they pull apart, and Fuuko finishes packing up

the now-cold stove, then bustles around the small tent for a few moments,

making sure everything is properly stowed before she starts stripping down,

jacket, pants, two shirts, and thin polypro bottom and top. She tensions the

clothesline, slung between two loops in the walls, and hangs her clothes over

it, goosebumps forming on her bare arms and legs, nipples perking up in the

cold, then strips her bra off and throws it over the line before diving into

the bag, Brrr,' she complains.

Are you done yet?'

Fuuko looks up to see Hibiki's got his eyes tightly shut, and laughs,

Yes. Your turn.'

Hibiki strips quickly, eyes closed, blushing under the feel of Fuuko's

eyes. When he's down to briefs and t-shirt, he slides into the bag next to

Fuuko, who giggles.

Hey,' she rolls on top of him, kisses him gently on the lips.

Fuuko,' he says, his hands coming up to rest on her waist, stroking

softly.

That's better,' Fuuko says, shifting slightly, slipping her thigh

between his, pressing it gently against the warmth she finds there.

Hibiki groans, Fuuko, don't.'

She stops, Why not?'

I didn't bring any,' he blushes bright red in the light of the

setting sun, Protection.'

Ah. Then we can't do that, but we can still do this,' and she rubs

him gently with her thigh.

He whimpers, Fuuko.'

And this way we don't have to worry about me getting pregnant,' she

smiles down at him, But we may have to worry about you getting pregnant.'

Fuuko,' he groans, softly, his hips rocking underneath her.

Careful,' she says, sliding her thigh rhythmicly against him, If

we've enough magic for it, all it takes is for you to really want it.'

Oh,' he gasps, shuddering, Oh, Oh, oh,' calms, holds her close, one

hand cupping her butt gently, Oh no.'

What?'

Something happened.'

I could tell,' Fuuko smiles.

No, something more than that.'

Well, if it did, it's too early to tell. You wanted it to?'

I did, but,' he suddenly pauses, and starts to laugh.

What? What is it?' Fuuko asks him urgently.

Well, if it did, then it'll help dispell those rumors that I'm a guy

that keep surfacing at school.'

Fuuko blinks, then colapses against his chest, laughing, I suppose

so.'

Good Morning!' Good Morning!' Good Morning!' Hibiki greets everyone

she passes on the way up the hill to the school.

I smile, and wave to my friends, and greet the teachers.

Someone got lucky, didn't she?'

Fuuko smiles at her friend, What ever are you talking about?'

That smile on your face, and it's friend on Amawa-sensei's.'

Oh. We went snowshoeing. It was a lot of fun.'

Then why is she wearing a two-karat diamond on her left ring finger?'

Because I asked her to?'

Congratulations,' says Juuko, and the rest of her friends grab her

into a hug.