Sigh, I keep telling myself to do this but I end up not doing so. Recently I've had quite a few A Level mock exams (which I did well in), and I recently restarted another hobby of mine in the meantime. Maybe once I get through this stage of the story I will be more determined and eager to keep going, but we'll see.
Just in case you've forgotten or are a new reader, remember this is a modern alternative universe, with an OC (Claire) as one of the key main characters. Later on, it will become more clear who are the other two key main characters, you may already be able to guess them...
Oh, and I've noticed I have over 1,000 views in total for this story, so thanks guys! Nice bit of motivation there. Shame half of the views are from the first chapter, but the story is a bit different I suppose, but never mind, thanks any way!
Constructive criticisms and suggestions always welcome. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Don't own Strike Witches or anything related.
Herausforderer | Courtyard Arc – Chapter 6: Years End.
All around her was that terrifying vision of hell on Earth, the destruction of it and the many artificial creations being torn apart by near blinding beams and pure red light, and the deaths of innocents and defenders... it chewed at her already fragile and worn down sanity persistently, painfully, never stopping until that strong string finally snapped, reliving her of the agony, and allowing her to commit such atrocities herself, to find herself obliterating the things around and everything that caused her this... torturous, unstoppable trauma which was what was now the norm; never-ending extermination of what she knew the world should be like. Or at least, the beauty of it, and the dreams it could spark, encouraging and pushing the human mind to try and accomplish something, to try and make a mark in a good way. To benefit all the things around her or at least maintain it for the future.
At this point, there would be no future. No cities to maintain, no children to teach, no castles to explore, no cattle to breed. At was as if a virus had come to consume all of what humanity had built and lived for... and all that the Earth evolved to become. And no matter how much the brave and forced tried and fought to protect and aid, they ended up the same... as equals in a twisted way, a non-revocable way, the curse of fragile, organic life.
Her blood-shot eyes, a green colour no longer as bright as in the past, struggled to focus on anything other than the environment around her and the many dangers that kept on coming and coming, destroying anything without a second thought to what damage they would be causing to the ground beneath them or the souls that were fleeing and, of course... right beside them, fending them off, delaying them for as long as they possibly could with their inferior weapons and broken morale. They landed upon a small, defenceless boy hiding in a crater and clutching onto her mother, who was obviously gone by now. But the boy could not allow himself to accept that, and no matter how many times his father called out to him, begging him to run to him so that they could try desperately to escape the monsters that were approaching, the child would not budge.
Claire... a child of much imagination, mostly due to her young age, could only think of the face of the older male, a look of utter despair, fear and hopelessness. With time running out for him and his son, how could he continue knowing that his wife had been murdered by these creatures that appeared out of no where? How could he save himself, or at least his child, if the grief the child felt overwhelmed him to a point that he could not move at all? Claires' mind once again focused on the man as he began to sprint to the crater to retrieve his son and escape the impending doom of the Neuroi. As he approached the crater, two small, bug-like Neuroi caught sight of the man, and began to crawl quickly across the potholed field to end their suffering. The man, unaware of the danger approaching, dove into the crater, still warm from the beam that created it, and grabbed his son roughly, the boy protesting and flaying wildly, screamed at him, pleading with him to let go and save his mother. Claire could see the tears pouring down their faces, no thanks to her amplified vision when using her magic, a curse at this point, as in an instant, the two beings were blown to pieces by a stray beam from a Neuroi cube, instead of being given the mercy of vaporisation by the metallic creatures on land.
As the two bodies were blown to pieces and emerged from the dark smoke that enveloped the widened crater, Claires' eyes widen, when the eyes of the boy... stuck in state, peered deeply into hers as the head flew into the air.
Claire bolted upwards from the bed, screaming a short scream, before letting herself fall back down onto the pillow and mattress below her. This was the reoccurring schedule of Claires life; have the nightmare, wake up with a cold sweat, continue, and occasionally say "It could be worse" if the dream was a little less graphic than usual, which was rare. On that note, Claire decided that being in such a state wasn't the most comfortable feeling in the world, though it could be much worse, and decided to get up now and have a quick shower and teeth brush before heading down the breakfast and training... something she had planned after yesterdays madness.
Upon attempting to get up, the after effects of sleep as well as heavy strain on the muscle the day prior hit her like a bucket of ice cold water. Her face scrunched up in reaction to the dull pain all around her body and the effort it took to stand up and begin the journey to the bathroom, a journey which took seemingly longer thanks to said issues, but she was confident that a shower would solve her problems and massage her body to allow her to carry out her plans from now until she revised them in January before she had to go back to school.
"Because education is the most important aspect of a young persons life!" Claire grinned at her thought after a short pause, happy that she made herself for cheering herself up a bit after such a ghoulish dream that she thought she would have been used to at this point. Opening the door was an easy task for her sour arms thanks to her not fully closing it the day prior. She had always intended to get a now door or at least fix the edges that allowed her to move it back and forth. As well as door handle and it's mechanics, it had been a nuisance since she was placed here, all ways falling apart and being tough to open, always jamming and dragging stubbornly when she opened and closed it. Sometime she thought it had a mind of its own, its weak structure always shone during storms where it somehow shuddered when a gale hit the house. And being the only door to do so, it was a bit odd.
Walking slowly, almost waddling across the corridor, she grasped onto the thick, coated rail which felt smooth thanks to it being given a generous lick of white paint by the households previous owner. As she reached the partly open bathroom door, demonstrating a type of laziness many would admire in the profession of being lazy, she straightforward pushed the door open by walking into it, putting no effort into using a limb to do the job like a normal person would. Though... to be fair, Claire wasn't a normal person, not in the slightest.
Breathing a slightly annoyed sigh, she turned at a moderate pace to her right to open the compartment door which contained the boiler and an assortment of towels and bathroom supplies, ready to be used whenever something had run out or stopped working. The sounded of the door being dragged across the carpet irritated her rested ears, a look of disdain appearing on her face her arms complained openly about the unwanted usage they were forced to go through. Flicking the switch on her left to activate the hot water for the shower, she found herself trapped outside of the bathroom, with the rooms door pointing forward, and the compartment door blocking the space that should have been if it wasn't fully open.
"Oh for fu..." The girl sweat-dropped, if she could sweat any more thanks to the dream nearly dehydrating her body.
After sorting out the dilemma of the blocked entrance to the bathroom incident, which escalated the protests in her arms, she arrived by the shower entrance, opened the door, which was thankfully very easy to open, and proceeded to play the game: "Can you avoid getting your arm wet?" A very easy game if your arm wasn't begging you to stop all actions, fall on the floor and accept that they were on strike for the day or two. But she would not let it hold her back! She would not accept defeat and allow her arm to be sprayed with water before she got undressed!
Sticking out her tongue, and frowning to insure maximum focus, attention and concentration, she positioned her hand above the button that would turn on the shower. She had to make sure that she pressed down hard enough so it would in fact turn on, with out losing valuable time and drenching her arm and hand with the yet warmed up liquid in the boiler. Her heart beat quickened, she began to fidget, and her fingers tingled with adrenaline. The time was now! She pressed the button, and as she did so she pulled her right arm back from inside the show. The water began gushing out of the shower head, and it barely skimmed the end of her fingers as she won the game the twenty-seventh consecutive time!
"Ja-aaaaaaah ow ow ow!" She cheered at her mini-success before groaning at the jolt of pain in her arm at the swift action, stepping back a tad to close the shower door for the time being to allow the water to heat up, and to make sure no water escaped the confines of the shower and leaked into the floor and down to the kitchen below.
"Had to buy a new toaster after that débâcle..." Remembered Claire after such an event occurred at the start of the year. All in all it took a lot of tedious effort to clean up and a bit of money to replace the broken electrical items in the area, though Claire would agree that the hassle cost more than replacing the damaged items.
Putting fried circuits and wet floors aside, she begin to strip off her dirty and ruined school clothes, her jumper and shirt for a start would need to be thrown away, so to save her some time she tossed them onto the wooden, fabric padded chair next to the door beside the radiator to be disposed of later. Emptying her trouser pockets to make sure nothing was inside or left inside them, she took them off too, leaving only her special, swimwear looking body suit on.
The suit was one of three custom built, third generation, light weight but strong body armour, interlaced with flame and magic retardant, specially designed by the world leading military scientist and magic professors alike, with the odd two witches here and there adding in the process. Claire was one of the lucky few to get a hold of the body suit, being as it was close to the emergence of the Neuroi and its high manufacturing cost, receiving a set of three, subsidised by both her old witch wing and her mentor due to her young age and supposed potentially that mainly her mentor saw in her. The set include a version for her smaller, undeveloped body, her teenage body (the suit she was wearing at the moment), and a version for when her body had fully developed, or at least, when it was no longer very loose and the mid-range suit wasn't tight as hell of course.
With a metallic, dark grey base colour, it was patterned with a simple combination of white and red stripes that varied in thickness, growing heavier as it travelled up her body. The white strips took the outside positions, while the red strips took the inside position. These two patterns covered both sides of her front and back, leaving the simple base to occupy most of her suit. Covering all of her torso, apart from small but noticeable gill like slits on the sides of her stomach to provide a form of ventilation, it also covered half of the tops of her arms and a third of the top of her legs, with a gills once again present on the outside areas of the suit. Its flexible design allowed the user to move about freely, and helped when the user wanted to take it off. Even if it was tad bit more awkward than a swimsuit.
Grabbing the material where it ended just above her collarbone, she carefully but not without good force, dragged the suit off her by first allowing her arms exit from it. With the small arm section hanging loosely, her now freed arms simply dragged down the material, until it lost grip and fell onto the carpet below on top of her trousers. With her body now exposed completely to the air, and with the house not in the warmest state, she made it quick to place the suit and trousers in the wash basket to put in the washing mission downstairs after her shower, which she was very quickly getting into after completing the task.
Claire sighed in content as the hot, relaxing water streamed down her and began to soak into her skin and wash away her sweat. The thoughts of the past few days were forgotten, but the intent to train was still there, strong and unwilling to be forgotten like the disturbing thought of being attacked once again, out of no where... with no idea of what the true intent or intents were in doing so.
The small Neuroi scout and its contingent of pesky escorts were finally destroyed, the scout nothing now but white glitters, its core destroyed, slowly dissolving as it drifted downwards from the sky, before being blown widely in all directions by its predator flying through the remains.
"Gotcha!" A beaming Erica Hartmann shouted into the air, joyful that she destroyed the cause of her early wake up call. Through the sound of the tiny, glistening wrecks twinkling towards the sea, she heard once more the compliments and awes at her skill and techniques. The youngest in the wing always the most complementing while a pat on the back was the usual response from the most experienced members of the wing, including her best and dear friend, Gertrude Barkhorn.
"Good job Frau, but don't let that be an excuse to get more sleep!" Gertrude, always the one advocating professionalism, was keen to make sure that Erica was bothered with the final training drill before Christmas tomorrow, something she had already skip on several times in her career, always blaming the alarm in the process.
"I know all your excuses and you won't avoid it this time Hartmann!"
"But Trude~ I deserve is this time..."
"Yeah Trude she does deserve a little less time off the drill-" Before Minna could finish, Gertrude interjected quickly before Erica got her way again. "But Minna-" And before the both could finish, Erica trumped them both; "Yay! Thanks Minna!"
Gertrude face-palmed while the higher in rank German smiled nervously, Erica already flying off into the distance towards the base. "I think I made her mad..." The commander thought thinking of her fellow German whose right hand seemed to be stuck to her face, grimacing underneath about-
"Discipline Commander, discipline! She's got to learn it! Imagine what she could do with it!" Though it was a core ideal in the German army to be disciplined before anything else, Trude was always very vocal about, and never let up on either.
The red haired woman tried to reassure the cog in the trio; "Yes Barkhorn, but she seems fine as it-"
"Have you seen the mess on her half of the room?! Do not be complacent Minna! It could get her killed!" And being a dear friend of Erica, she always cared about her safety, second only to her little sister... and even then the gap was fine between the two."
"What? The mess?"
"Minna!" Trying to lighten up the situation didn't work either, so the only thing have to do was to take control of it.
"I know how you feel about this, and I understand. But that is just Ericas' nature, you have to let her be."
"But..."
"She isn't called the Black Devil for nothing, Trude. Just change that concern into faith, please?" That seemed to strike a chord within Gertrude, taken back by the ending of the reply, she replied quickly but seemingly unsure of herself; "Of course I have faith in her..." She mumbled, disheartened and unhappy at the implication that she didn't trust Erica enough with her own life and talent.
"I know you have good intentions, and I'm not asking you to stop, just... tone it down a bit? You don't have to shout at her every day about it..." With the subject over and done with, Trude mumbled a simple OK and began to fly off to the base herself with the majority of the wing, only Mio and Perrine staying back with to observe the argument. Perrine, to the surprise of Minna, spoke up first, starling the frayed commander slightly.
"How long has she been like that, Commander Wilcke?" Asked a curious Perrine, not seeing such an outburst before for a while. A brief breeze blew calmly threw the air, as if the memories of the past were returning to her for the moment to be relived, if for that brief moment, just for it to be buried again, and hoped to not re-emerge again.
"Uh... ah, well-"
"It was during the start of the invasion" Mio stepped in to start Minna off, who was caught unaware and nervous about the topic.
"Y-yeah. Thanks Mio. It was during that time that her little sister, Chris, was nearly killed... to keep the it short, she's been in a coma every since..." Minna ended feeling and sounding downbeat, but was happy internally that she was able to force out the answer.
"Oh... do they know if she will wake up?"
"No, unfortunately... It really affects her at times, but you know her, she handle it well most of the time." As well as making her admirable in Minnas' eyes, though she didn't add that, wishing to close the conversation at this point. Mio spoke up, sensing this; "Ok, lets go home. You wanted to show me a new technique of yours Perrine?"
"Y-y-yes Major! I-I can show you it whenever you want Major Sakamoto!" Perrine responded jubilantly, following her beloved teachers lead, her mini-persona dancing in her mind.
Minna followed suit, she needed to have some breakfast before filling in the tedious paper work at her desk.
But at least it helped take her mind off things, and it was much better for her to handle the paperworks for the wing while the rest trained, led by Mio mostly, with the most experienced doing there own thing or training another personally. It was kinda one of those things within the wing that made the squad unique. The leaders of the wing would always take an apprentice under their wing if you could call it that, maybe it was better to refer to those who undertook such roles as mentors and students, seemed more fitting with the history of the wing and all, with many Japanese pilots forming it following the last world war and allowance by the Americans to let the witches of the country be part of foreign armies and the peacekeeping forces. They could never be overlooked, the best of the best usually came from there, with a significant portion of all witches coming from the that nation alone.
With the wing now settled down after the dawn incursion, and a full stomach, Minna could finally settle down on the paper work of the days earlier events and report on the progress of the younger and less experienced members of 501st, with the rest being sorted out later. Concerning her the most at the moment though was the lack of a mentor for Sergeant Lynette Bishop, even with the arrival of Yoshika cheering up immensely. With Shirley busy with Lucchini and Sakamoto handling two already, only she had the authority to do any training, but with her hand tied down with paperwork and meetings, as well as making sure that everything else in general was running smoothly, any time spent on the often clumsy girl wouldn't be affective at all.
Thinking of someone who could be of aid, she was distracted by the hustle outside with the Major and her students. Despite Miyafuji being passive and praising, Perrine would always seem to find out of no where a flaw.
"She's not secure about her position with Mio... I told her something like that might happen..." Mio sighed and rubbed her temples, annoyed that the headstrong Japanese witch did what she did best and followed and stuck to her opinion. Sometimes the wise women would wish that the white jacketed women would listen to her on these issues... but she just recognised it as a charm of hers, though never giving up early to hope she could get a result for once.
"What is it with them, jeez..."
'Discrete' and 'Witch' were never usually considered good pairings... but when they could work, they worked well enough to continue with a plan or course of action or whatever other scheme you could think of that would involve the odd combination. Because if Claire was going to train her body to tolerate her magic again, she would have to use at some point during the training at home.
The plan of action was to, at first, use it in intervals, notching up the duration of its usage over time as her body accepted it more and more, tolerating it and being strong enough to use in equal measure. Now she couldn't really use the magic outside, because it would pretty noticeable having cat ears on your head and tail sprouting up your backside now wouldn't it?
So because of that, she would use it mainly for running and warm ups to get the outside air into her lungs, using the back lawn more during the early and mid stages of her mocked up exercise course. The rest of the plan was to use the front room, closing the curtains of course, when activating her familiar and using the magic that came with it. Already a keen sportswoman, she had some weights lying about, so for now she would use them until she got something larger and more mechanical, since the work she would need to do would be much more intense, focusing on getting her endurance levels up and adding a bit more muscle overall before focusing on the smaller refinements such as agility... which would most likely arrive naturally with the training prior.
"Or something along those lines..." At the end of the day, the best way to see if these results were possible in such a short time frame, was to actually try and push for it. But, Claire figured, as long as her body could endure her magic for longer with less side effects, the magic should provide those bonuses any way, but if she could add to it, then fantastic.
With the plan, well... planned, her suit now drying off and the snow falling, she grabbed a custard cream from the biscuit tin, paced towards the door onto the balcony by the side of the house, opening it and immediately closed it again with an expletive for good measure.
It was cold... very cold.
"Oh sure it could be worse but still..." She thought, but soon sighed, looking at the positives for once, she opened the door once again, embraced the freezing temperatures and shouted:
"Sigh... this'll harden me up though, damn it."
"Are you going to wake up Hartmann?!"
"no~" Came the tired drone of a reply.
"FINE!"
Trude rushed out of Ericas' room, more impatient than usual, slamming the door behind her, creating a loud echo that rang through the hallways and the blonds tired and sensitive head and ears. This was the daily, recurring feud between the two that played out almost every midday without fail. Well, it wasn't a feud but more of an annoyance for the two, since Trude would always demand discipline from the laid-back, care free Erica, and Erica would always demand another half an hour.
Or hour...
Which would turn into two..
All in all it was an awkward, dividing problem that neither wanted to back down on, and was getting worse everyday as both of the Germans grew tired over the issues... which was kinda ironic in a sense. But being in a war and having that pressure of being the spearheads and role models of the Allied army was getting to them more with their strained friendship. In the past, just a few months back in fact, the issue would be shrugged off by the evening and the two would be as close as ever, and it would show during the fighting against the Neuroi. Always working together and communicating by simple looking at each other, hardly a word spoken, they would be the striking force of the wing, taking on the bulk of the enemy fire and attention while the others could concentrate on the key aspects such as finding weak spots and the core of the main Neuroi vessel.
You could call them the shock and awe of the group, one with super strength and the other able to manipulate the air around her, throwing churning the gusts towards the target. The two aces were indispensable to the wing, and it was crucial that they were fully concentrated on the task at hand and working in harmony... which was the issue now, since the two seemed to grow distant. It was strange, they simply weren't as content as they were, and it showed. It was obvious the communication in all areas was reduced.
What was the root cause? She thought hard over the past few days and weeks, even now in fact. A frown and pout appearing on her face underneath the covers that kept her nice and warm and comfy. Erica had an idea other than Gertrudes' strong passion for the core values of their home force...
"Miyafuji..." Every since the young Japanese girl had arrived, she had been playing up, being more closed off and cold. When she thought about it more, she started to connect the dots between the appearance of her little sister Chris and the new recruit... the resemblance was certainly there as long as you compared the pictures to get a good idea of what the two looked like to begin with.
Plus that women seemed to be obsessed with little sister characters... it was a bit disturbing, even more so that she had been on the receiving end of the bizarrely motivated affections time and again.
"I still don't know who gave her that booze..." But when she wasn't the target, it was quite funny and very nice seeing Trude be open with herself and the others around her, her mind cleared for that short time. The sound of the Major booming at the younger member of the wing pulled her out of her thinking.
"Too loooooooud... aaAHH!" The thunderous bang of a anti-tank rifle nearly threw her off the bed, and considering she was already hanging off it, it was quite the achievement... She moaned, repositioning herself and pulling the pillow over her head in a desperate attempt to block out the noises of jet strikers and high powered weapons, as well as the odd curse word in French.
"Probably directed at Yoshika..." Another scream of bloody anger could be heard in the distant.
"Yup."
The drills and training went off without many issues, and everyone seemed to be in a good enough shape to avoid having to train early after (or just before) Christmas. Reports of skirmishes kept Minna on her toes during the day, but they had been low scale, and found that they assistance was not needed, a very rare occurrence considering how difficult the Neuroi were in containing and defeating without over whelming, spread out numbers, or witches in the air.
The days towards Christmas passed slowly now, and barring the antics from Lucchini, and an explosion in the hanger bay thanks to Shirleys' tinkering, there wasn't must happening. Because of this, a certain someone was sleeping in for even longer, and was surprisingly uninterrupted for the past few days, excluding the explosion and Lynne stumbling into her room when Yoshikas' magnetic hands were pulled by the unstoppable force of the Brits chest.
Realizing this astonishing fact of being left to snooze forever, she shot upwards, suddenly concerned about her dear fellow German.
"I think I should go check up on Trude..." Despite being the most carefree and laziest of the squad, she always tried to put Trude first... though that was never usually the case thanks to her constant spells of sleep. But, it was more of an indicator that Trude was fine and in a good mood... so if she wasn't trying to get her up at a reasonable time for once, or at least not to long after that threshold, then she had to check up on her and find out what was wrong, if at all.
Maybe she actually gave up? Unlikely, considering she had always during this team of year tried to force her up...
Performing a task that Gertrude would be shocked to see, she got our of bed, leaving her room and walking down the corridor to her fellow Germans habitat, which was only on the opposite end of it, so it didn't take long for her to reach the door and swing in it Trudes larger room, full of gym equipment, used to maintain her body and amplify her strength when using her familiar and its quite literally strong magic.
"TRUDE!" She bellowed, which was more of a composed scream thanks to her high voice which didn't help with fending off the sister loving instinct from the person currently lifting weights while observing the view outside her window.
"WHAT?!" A proper bellow was demonstrated to Erica, something worth taking notes.
But the irritation on her mind and presented through her face was quickly replaced with a tomato red face and wide eyes as she noticed that the younger blonde behind her was only wearing a pyjama top which was slightly too long for her arm wise...
"Errrr Trude? Why are you bleeding?
"GET OUT OF MY ROOM! AND PUT SOME DAMN PANTS ON YOU DUMMKOPF!"
To say Erica was scared off was an understatement, the door closing as quickly as the nosebleed appeared on the siscons face.
Time passed... bullets spent, frozen grass worn down, and a few floorboards broken and close calls... but now, for all the witches from the channel to the city, a moment of rest could be taken and the chance to relax open for all.
But that's where the similarities ended.
There's always a massive contrast between those who are with others at times of celebration or cultural significance, and those who are not, whether it is down to not being able to, to personal reasons of lacking friends, family... So when Claire woke up that Christmas morning, it didn't feel like a particularly different day. It was just a day she could use as an excuse to put a halt to the constant training and watch a movie or two, and maybe treat herself to a bar of a chocolate. She wouldn't admit the aching depression that left her tired and non-caring, but it was there... no matter how much she wanted to ignore it or just accept it. It ate at her like a dog would eat at a bone to reach the marrow.
But it didn't stop her attempting to cook a small chicken, since turkeys became such a rarity and the waste it would be to get a turkey for one and maybe the dog next door, slicing and dicing a few vegetables and putting some roasties in the microwave. The end results wasn't exactly a mess but non-the-less enjoyable and a nice treat for a rather lonely day. The TV shows, somehow maintaining the same emotion and quality as before the war, from what Claire could tell from watching old episodes of topical comedy shows and some old soaps for added research on the web, were enough to satisfy her day of rest before her training continued the day after.
It was still too early to play it safe, the constant nagging at the back of her mind that something was going on behind the scenes haunted her, it even started to creep into the repetitive dreams of hers. Strange new figures would appear out of no where, surprising, taunting and angering until her vision went red, black and then filled with the contents of her room as she would abruptly, with a strangled gasp, awaken. The best way to fight the emotion, in her mind, was to train harder and more efficiently, while remaining quiet and below low key. All in all, the combination of targets and goals increased her output enough to achieve quick results and adjust her body, the protesting in the muscles and joints slowly dying down and being overwhelmed by the constant torture... slowly getting used to the fact that their voices would not be heard.
Meanwhile, as the day drew to a close on a chaotic but fun day back at base, the commotion began to die down, with yawns become epidemic, and the odd card game played while some decided to clean up to save the hassle of carrying out the task the next day, while for some, it was an opportunity to get into the good books of a certain Japanese major...
"Miyafuji! You missed some wrappings! Pick them up!" Commanded Perrine, keen to show off her leadership side while subjugating the recruit that diverted Sakamotos' attention away from her.
"Ok ok! C'mon Perrine give me a break-" She whined, before the blue jacketed girl cut her off.
"You've been slacking too much tonight and the past week! As a fellow student of Major Sakamoto, I must ensure you keep to standards-" Wincing at the loud interruption, she diverted her attention from listening to the scolding from the blonde haired French woman, and got on with making her happy, or at least content, by sweeping up, and doing a little more by cleaning the kitchen work bench of some crumbs that had spilled over from the biscuit plate.
"-and, oh... see! It's for ou- I mean, your good!" Perrine corrected, not wanting to reveal any ulterior motives. "Not that I have any, no... not at all... just want to please the Major.. yes... get in her good books..." Mentally, she grinned deviously, maybe Miyafuji could prove to be useful after all she thought, at least in helping her remain a top student.
Minna looked on with a sympathetic but amused face, distracted from the conversation between herself, Mio, Shirley and Eila, who tagged along for the sake of it, with Sanya in the no-womans-land of being awake and falling asleep, sitting (or leaning on Eila to be more precise) next to her. While Mio and Minna had their own, comfy single seats, the sofa was fully occupied with the three others, directed in front of the fire, while the single seats covered the flanks... a rug in the middle to finish the formation off.
Eila, with a slight blush thanks to the proximity of Sanya, spoke up: "I thought a witch wing had a limit of only eleven members? Why would you need a twelfth anyway?" The real reason to Minnas' concentration being off was to avoid speaking and even listening to the topic, already knowing what it implied from Mios' constant fascination and attention to it.
"There's no real limit, just more of an advisory... and besides, if the twelfth member is valuable enough, what's the issue?" Mio retorted.
"Well... that would depend on who the twelfth member would be, right Sakamoto?" Interjected Shirley, interested in the discussion, she paid attention attentively, seemingly unaware of her commanders opposite reaction.
"Of course..." Mio trailed, unsure on what to say next. Shirley continued though, still keen on the subject.
"Well, do ya have anyone in mind? You wouldn't talk about this without someone on ya short-list, eh?" Before Mio could respond, Minna, who had picked up the question barely, shot the Japanese woman a death stare that could rival the strictest of headteachers, daring her to name the person in question. Mio sweat-dropped, almost stumbling on her words as she gave a quick and closing reply in the hopes that this part of the conversation would end soon afterwards.
"Oh... it's no-one, really! Just... wanted to know your opinions, haha!" The fumbled reply was noticed by Shirley, but noticing the distress, and glancing over at her red haired commander, who still eyed Mio with ferocity, she put two and two together, and nodded, indicating that she accepted the answer...
For now at least.
As the evening turned to night, and as more beds were occupied by tiered out bodies, the only two left in the designated living room of the base were the two top dogs of the wing...
"What was your idea alluding to her like that?" Minna questioned with a growl, a frown evident on her face, annoyed at the constant infatuation over a certain green-eyed girl from times past. Mio stood there upon the rug, turned to face and look down at her commander, a stern and composed look on her face.
"I just wanted to ask about a twelfth member, that is all." She replied calmly, avoiding gracefully the key point of the question, her companions reply was swift and uncharacteristic:
"Bullshit, you were going to mention her weren't you?!" Now shouting, Mio could only look on, shocked at the response, nervousness suddenly creeping over her... it was not like Minna to get this angry at something like this. "Damn it Major!" -and it wasn't too often that during non-military hour that she was referred to as 'Major' instead of one of her names... at this point, the 18 year old knew she had pissed off her commander, and was facing a rough ride- "Shirley may have forgotten but she knew before! I don't want her probing me about this either, never-mind you!"
She sighed, a sign of hope for Mio that she may in fact get off lightly. "Just please... stop this... If this needs to come up again, I will be the one to bring it up, that's an order." And with the 'order card' played, Sakamoto could only, close her eyes briefly, open them again, and nod "Hai Commander", before turning back round to head off to her bedroom.
Outside, behind the second entrance, peeking through, Shirley could only look on now, pieces slowly beginning to fall into place to allow her to remember some of the details temporary lost by her brain. Silently, she closed the door, and headed to her own bedroom, pondering on her thoughts... and why Sakamoto was alluding to that girl from the past.
Needless to say, a hint of tension blow through the coastal air until New Years Eve, where once again, after a few sessions of toned down exercises to keep everyone on their twos, and a brief night incursion swiftly dealt with single handedly by Sanya, activities calmed down, enough for the wing and the small extra staff at the base to relax, celebrate and hope for a good 2013. With the two top guns decided to speak to each once again, the whole base seemed to feel less pressured.
Of course, mild training sessions were not on the agenda for a certain witch, and with the new school term approaching, she was determined to make sure she was ready for any future attacks or incursions from unwanted visitors.
Whether that would happen... only time would tell.
In a darkened room, underground in a place far from the commotion of a city or town, two men were sat in a plain, dark room with only a table to separate them. The darkness was so consuming, it seemed to cover the faces of both men, as if abiding to their secret demands to remain anonymous and at least, unknown. The authoritarian man, dressed in a simple military suit with a just under a half dozen military badges, spoke up to question the brown clothed man, captive in a sense... ready to listen to the end of the bargain offered.
"There is one condition to your safe release..." A gruff voice spoke, the dark hairs on his face moving with his mouth In a simple manner.
"Which is?" Spoke a man in an almost stereotypical Russian accent, a voice which carried a sense of maturity, but laced with intrigue and hope. He eyed the official before him, knowing that the prerequisite would not be an easy one to attain.
"Capture this girl..." He passed a picture of a red-haired child with two bright green eyes. "She's older now, with an eye-patch over her right eye, and goes to a secondary school, which we have the location of. We want you to capture her, and bring her to us." He finished, though expecting a reply, he continued to lean across the table.
"Why do you want me to capture this... girl?"
"Because she is a witch, vital to our plans, and must be dealt with now... understood?" Wanting to wrap the briefing up, he leaned back into his chair, the other man still keen on asking one more question.
"How difficult will this be?"
"She is not fit enough to be able to use her magic for long, and considering your ties to the project, you should be more than a match to take her down." He sighed, and added "I want this done as early as possible, time is of the essence." As he stood, the dark brown haired agent spoke up once more.
"I will need time to re-adjust to the-"
The official interrupted with clear impatience. "Then get used to it! The new school term starts on Thursday the 3rd. I want this sorted by the following Monday... are we clear?"
"...yes sir." The prisoner acknowledged, knowing that the chance given could so easily be taken away if he continued to pester the interrogator. Through the black glass overlooking the two bodies inside the room, a skinny man in a dark suit and another dark haired man, with facial hair to accompany and over a dozen medals and badges, looked on and digested the briefing, the skinny henchman taking notes for later use. Before handing them over to his employer, he asked a simple question.
"D-do you think this'll work, sir?" He timidly spoke, unsure of the reaction he might receive.
"...it must... otherwise, our goals becoming a little more, difficult to achieve." Grasping onto the two small sheets of paper handed by his helpful assistant, he walked towards the door to leave the room, said assistant following in toe.
The annoying thing is being able to write a lot when I'm in the mood and have gotten started, but then just stopping and losing concentration. I do that a lot with this project, and I should probably not do that...
Any way, hope you enjoyed. I will try and update more often since I really want to keep going on this, just need to stop getting distracted and being lazy I suppose. Thanks for reading.
