She Loves to Laugh
"Clevebro, you sure smile and laugh a lot, huh?"
Her brows furrowed—at the seemingly odd statement and the nickname she ever so loathed.
But soon enough, Cleveland's vibrant laugh reached the Commander's ears, and for a time, he almost went along with it. He was able to rein it in before it came bursting out.
"Why? Because I can, of course!"
"That's Clevebro for you, huh? She's cool like that."
This time, Cleveland did not furrow her brows—though she did appear to briefly twitch—at that. She was still all smiles, albeit with a touch of rosiness.
"Honestly, teasing your subordinate like that...Guess I could tell you...but promise you won't laugh? It will sound really cheesy."
The Commander's assurance was prompt, but Cleveland stared outside the window instead of answering right away. The weather was cloudy.
"I like the feeling that whenever I smile or laugh..., I could do everything—like making those clouds disappear. Figuratively, of course. And then..."
"Hm?" Go on."
"I'd love to see others be like that too... y'know, like that song? 'When you're smiling, the whole world smiles with you?' So that's why, for the sake of my sisters, my friends...and…awww, geez..."
At this point, she stopped again as the reddening of her cheeks seemed to have grown too intense for her. After a light slap to both sides, Cleveland seemed to have calmed down, however.
"And?"
"….and...you."
She was still red, but Cleveland clearly had regained herself. She was beaming.
"So, for your sake, I'll keep smiling."
Despite the earlier assurance, Cleveland braced for the Commander to tease her for that. It was—as she had admitted—cheesy, after all.
But there was only silence—when she finally turned to the Commander, she found him smiling back.
"Well, I appreciate the sentiment, Cleveland."
"Oh, that's sweet, Commander! Keep that up the whole day, would you?"
Her ever-spirited laughter soon filled the room again—this time, the Commander gladly laughed along.
She Loves to Sing
As he did his rounds, the Commander decided, out of the blue, to pay an unannounced visit to the makeshift studio they had set up to test the Muse system. He figured they could use some moral support; Akagi certainly appreciated it—sometimes too much.
But when he got there and quietly opened the door, he saw nobody save for Cleveland in the corner, and what she did gave him pause.
She wasn't practicing with her instrument-like rigging or fine-tuning it. Instead, she was singing.
No, not just singing, the Commander realized as he ended up watching from afar—she was clearly having the time of her life, and he didn't have the heart to put a stop to it.
The Commander stepped in only after she was done and got herself ready to practice. He coughed to gain her attention, and she let out a shriek as she nearly fell off her drum kit.
"Co—Commander! Don't sneak up on people like that!" she fumed, but it only took a simple apology to go back to her good side.
"So, what brings you here?" she inquired, making herself comfortable again on the drum stool, and hitting a few beats.
"I wanted to check on everyone…where are they, though?"
"Ah, they are going on a break. Poor timing, huh? Akagi was kinda moping because she wanted to see you," Cleveland laughed.
"I…I see. Well, are you not going to take a break, though?"
"Nah—I still have some fight in me. See?" she played a rather complicated, energetic beat as if to back up that claim.
"Okay, don't push yourself, though. Can't have my reliable secretary pass out from exhaustion, eh?" the Commander remarked, and her grin seemed to grow even bigger.
"Yeah, sure. Of course. Say, aren't you busy? I appreciate you worrying over us, but you have work to do, don't you?"
"Ah, not really…rather, I was thinking, did I disturb your practice? I could leave if I did?"
"Oh, no, not at all. You can stay here, but won't it be boring just watching?"
"As long as it's not paperwork, I'll take anything," the Commander shrugged and walked to a couch.
"Okay then. Maybe if you're here, I'll get more fired up like Akagi, heheh," Cleveland laughed and steadied herself as she got ready to practice.
She completed a round of drumming without much trouble, and though the Commander wasn't so musically-inclined, he'd still find it awe-inspiring. He could tell she was improving day by day.
Even though he knew she treated it as only a job.
"Well, I think I got better. Practice does make perfect, huh," Cleveland whistled, wiping the sweat off her forehead.
"Yes, it does. Good job, Cleveland."
"Eheheh. Just wait until I master this thing. It'll leave you floored."
"Heh, I can't wait."
Cleveland, who seemed to be a little fired up over the remark, returned to practice. That's when the Commander remembered what he saw earlier.
"Why don't you sing?"
There was a sound of drumsticks falling on the floor as he said that.
"…Wh—what's with the question?"
The Commander could see it—the suspicion—and at first, he had thought of dismissing his own question. But then he remembered how she was singing, so he took the plunge.
"I wonder why don't you try singing instead of drumming? Because I was watching you singing when I arrived; you looked like you were enjoying it."
"Gosh, you heard? That's… that's...gosh, that's so embarrassing…! It's almost like that clichéd 'someone you look up to walk in on you,' isn't it?" Cleveland shot up, hands on both cheeks—which were now bright red.
The Commander wisely said nothing out of guilt as she calmed herself by inhaling and exhaling.
"…Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, Cleveland. It's just that…"
"Yeah?"
"I mean, do you enjoy your role right now? Didn't you say it was basically a duty?"
Cleveland shook her head and sat down.
"It is, but I think you misunderstand. I don't hate it, of course. In fact, I'm starting to enjoy it."
"Okay, but…have you ever thought of trying the lead singer role?"
Cleveland turned red again, but she was still smiling.
"Are you crazy? I'm not that good at singing. I mean—keep this a secret, by the way—I've had my fair share of missed tunes, you know. I'm not a lead singer material."
"Hey, with practice, we can fix that. Don't you want to be good at it?"
Cleveland picked her drumsticks from the floor and gave them a whirl before answering.
"You know, Commander—I do love singing, but sometimes you don't have to be good at what you love, you know? We already have an awesome lead singer in Gascogne, so there's no need to change that or for me to be better than her. After all, this is not a competition."
The Commander looked at Cleveland, and he could tell she was earnest. And when she's earnest, he would always admire that—why would he argue?
"I understand. Oh well, I won't force you. Sorry, I've got to go," the Commander rose from his seat, realizing he needed to leave now.
"That's too bad. See you, Commander," she waved him goodbye, watching him walk towards the door.
"Oh, by the way," the Commander stopped by the door and looked over his shoulder, "keep doing what you enjoy, Cleveland. I'll be rooting for you."
"Thank you, Commander."
Now left alone in the studio, Cleveland stared at the drumsticks and set them aside.
Soon, she broke into another song.
She Does Everything
"You know what? I'm happy you're here," the Commander remarked as Cleveland's deft fingers continued to knead his muscles, the ministrations working the tensions and aches away.
"Oh you, Commander. Saying something like that just because I gave you a massage? You're not trying to woo me, are you?" Cleveland laughed as if it was nothing, though she did turn a little red.
"Well…What if I'm actually trying to woo you?"
Another laugh escaped Cleveland. The Commander noticed that this time it was louder but at the same time off-sounding. And for whatever reason, unlike her tender movements before, she had decided to apply more pressure on his shoulders than needed, enough to force a yowl out of him.
"Oops, sorry. I must've done that without thinking," Cleveland apologized. "But seriously, it's not nice to make a joke like that, Commander."
"Okay, my bad," the Commander replied. Peeking over his shoulder, he could see Cleveland getting flustered. "But I just want you to know that I really appreciate everything you've done."
He felt her fingers nearly slipping as he said that.
"Really now? I didn't do much, did I?"
"Don't be so modest. I've never seen anyone who…could and would do many things like you. Your combat ability is unquestionable, but that's not all. You excel at every little thing you do. Playing in a band, sports, planting trees, and, well, keeping up with me that one time we were riding together. Also, you are a very responsible secretary and have helped me with my job a lot."
Cleveland's movement gradually slowed until it came to a complete halt. Her hand suddenly became sweaty.
"Cleveland?"
"…Well, uh…I never knew you thought of me like that, Commander. Ah, um, I'm just surprised, that's all," she blurted out and saw the Commander's ears were just as red.
"…Yeah, you can say I admire that quality of yours. That's why I'm glad to have you here."
"I…I see. Thank you," she murmured.
"Well, Anyway, I'm feeling better now. And as thanks, you can go now. I can finish up my job by myself," the Commander said.
"Are you sure? I mean—"
"No, really. Go meet your sisters or tend to your bonsai. I'll be fine."
"If you say so, then…thank you, Commander; see you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you."
The Commander sighed as he watched her back disappear through the door. If he had to be honest, he would like nothing more than to savor her tender caress longer. But he knew had she stayed longer, he might say something she might not be ready to hear. She might even realize his heart was starting to race, and then she would inquire about it, and he wouldn't be able to explain without lying.
Idly, he reached for his drawer to take a small velvet box out, cradling it afterward.
"Seriously, she really could do everything—including making me feel like this."
