Disclaimer: Yes, I do not own Full Metal Panic. And yes, in my dreams, I'd like to pretend I do.

Summary: (Series of Drabbles from the FMP universe) Because, even amidst the bullets of war, their eyes speak of things that were never meant to be – of hopes and dreams and love and deaths. This is their story.

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Ammunition
Third Bullet : Reminisce
By makka na yuki

Character(s): Kurz Weber, tiny bits of Melissa Mao

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"Cry. Cry. And cry. Then continue on to kill. Because no one wants to fight in this war"

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Sometimes he likes to think.. to believe that he wasn't born a sniper.

…that he wasn't meant to fight in the battlefield.

…that his eyesight isn't as sharp as his comrades would say.

…that his instincts for aiming accurately isn't natural.

…that he wasn't destined to spill the blood of many.

Such thoughts are pathetic, stupid and sounds "down-right like a waste of time" as his beautiful comrade, Uruz-2, would say.

But it consumes his mind every single waking moment of his life. Even more so when he fights.

He was never in the front lines, but he feels death looming above every single time he looks through his gun and aims that bright red dot on another's forehead.

This was, he supposes, fate's way of telling him that what he is doing is not right.

But he continues on.

He sees through his enhanced vision, pulls the trigger, hands no longer shaking in doubt. Hesitation kills, this he knows as he witnesses everyone die around him. He has things he needs to protect, and he is not quite ready to let go.

At night, he dreams.

Of death, of blood, of silent screams. Of faces of enemies, whom are not quite strangers anymore. He feels as if he could know them, being the last person to look in their eyes. He sees their hopes and dreams, before darkness takes over. No one wants to fight in this war, he remembers.

Yes, being a sniper, he believes, isn't easy. You only exist in the shadows, yet you see everything as a black-and-white film. Muted. Magnified. Movements in slow-mo. Close-ups of faces.

You close off everything, including your beating heart, and you sense only through your sight. That way… maybe it wouldn't hurt that much.

The only thing that brings comfort is the knowledge that they did not feel pain.

But it never is enough.

And every single morning, when he opens his eyes as well as his heart, he thanks and curses whoever it is up there that deemed it necessary that he lives with his sins for another day.

Living wasn't easy – it never was – but it's harder to forget.

So he thinks, maybe, everything is alright.

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Teach me to remember.

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Author's Notes: Err… this is something that I kind of made in a rush… the transition isn't as perfect as I would've liked… so if you think it doesn't make sense… hurray!! I think so too! But then, let's pretend no one notices that ;)

Yes, I'm not exactly being too original and just copying the same I-killed-so-I'm-guilty concept from the previous chapter… but… I don't care P But I do hope that I didn't make Kurz here look to too much out of character. He just looks so happy all the time that it makes you think… maybe he's crying in the inside just like everybody else. How painful is it to look into a strangers face close-up, to only put a bullet through his forehead?