SYMPHONY IIII

Diminutive hands wrapped around the drab, unremarkable stock of the Steyr AUG A1 assault rifle, belonging to an acutely small youth with long black tresses and oddities for eyes. The firearm held stark contrast in comparison to this perceivably delicate girl, who always seemed to dress in vibrant clothing when she worked on the field. Her skin was pallid and held the perspicuous look of an individual who had spent too much time indoors rather than out, possibly confined within a dreary bedroom in an infirmary, living a ritualistic life for far too long. Nevertheless, the tint of her hair color complimented the anemic patient appearance, and made her out to look like an adorable porcelain doll.

A porcelain doll with a gun, but never mind that.

Angelica squeezed on the trigger and jerked very slightly, appearing for a split second like an explosive, colorful blur on the range. Her supervisor purveyed her at a distance, arms folded securely and in an almost cynical manner against his chest. Marco had a significantly less extravagant taste in clothing than his charge, but for all the correct reasons.

Another pull of the trigger. Marco's gaze turned austere at Angelica and he strode across the expanse of ground between him and the frontline. She whirled around, black hair flapping in the breeze, watching him with hollow purple eyes and pointing her rifle towards the ground. "Yes, sir?"

"Look at that," he said brazenly, indicating the target beyond. "You've barely managed to even land a shoulder wound. It's pathetic."

Angelica sighed, and avoided meeting the astringent glare she knew was fixed upon her. Marco was so immutably obdurate over her training ever since she disembarked from the infirmary for the second time, she happened to wonder what exactly it was that she'd done wrong by him.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'll try harder, Marco. I promise! I just can't really control the prosthetics all that well, since I-I forgot..."

Marco winced as if someone had slapped him. "I told you to practice an instrument. Why haven't you yet?"

"Henrietta stopped by my dormitory and offered to help me play the violin, and—"

"Excuse me, is there a problem?"

Angelica stopped and gazed at Giuseppe and his runty cyborg, Henrietta. The brunette grinned jovially at Angelica, who returned the expression likewise with considerable less gaiety than she even realized.

"There's no problem here except my cyborg's marksmanship, Giuseppe," Marco replied sourly, eyeing the target, which by no means looked anything spectacular for the expectations Angelica was meant to keep up with.

"That's no good reason to chew her out, though," Giuseppe said. "She's only just returned to the field again, can't you give her a break?"

Marco opened his mouth and shut it immediately afterwards, gazing at the pink and lavender-clad girl beside him, though she only stared at her feet. Henrietta was checking her pistol's magazine, innocently unaware of the situation. His eyes traveled over to her.

"...Angelica said you were going to teach her how to play the violin."

The magazine slipped soundly between Henrietta's fingers. She dived aptly to save it from the treacherous ground, straightened back up, and blushed profusely as she slid the magazine in. Marco's expression remained unchanging.

"You," he intoned, "you said to Angelica that you were going to teach her how to play the violin. When?"

"Oh, uhmm... That," Henrietta said sheepishly, smiling. "Well, Giuseppe and I were going to go to the city after practice today and buy a violin for Ange. I guess...I'll start teaching her then? I mean," she added, glancing at Angelica hurriedly, "if she's okay with it."

"Ah!" Angelica looked up and smiled. "Yes, that would be all right."

"Good," Marco muttered detachedly, checking his watch. "Come, Angelica. Practice is over." He headed for the training field exit. The ebony-haired girl he had left behind stuttered for a moment and stood, rooted to the spot.

"Hurry up!"

She gave a voluntary shriek, bid goodbye to Giuseppe and Henrietta, and ran to him.