Anthropomorphic Woes

Strike Witches-fanfic. An insanity fic. Eila wakes up to a surprise, and chaos ensues.
(Eila/Sanya)

Read Anthropomorphic Woes

Disclaimer: All things Strike Witches belong to Gonzo and a bunch of others, though I’m sure I’m not hurting anything by borrowing them for a bit.




Anthropomorphic Woes
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





“So let me get this straight,” Sakamoto sounded both stern and disbelieving. “you did not bring those things to bed with you, yet you woke up with them sleeping on you?”

It was entirely possible that Sakamoto was just a trifle cranky because Eila in her surprise had yelled the entire building awake upon making the discovery. As it was everyone was gathered in the living room in various states of undress, eyeing the pale girl sitting in one of the couches with a surprisingly happy little smile on her face as she cuddled two tiny bundles close.

“Forget that, what I want to know is why she had little Sanya in bed with her, wearing THAT!” The increasingly agitated Barkhorn pointed at the pale young Orussian, more precisely at the very tiny and delicate underwear that was now at least somewhat covered by one of Eila’s large shirts. “Explain yourself Juutilainen!”

“What? You make it sound like I’ve done something!” Eila protested vehemently, her face already pink at the implication. “That’s just what Sanya wears!”

“Mmhmm...” Hartmann agreed, causing Eila to nod fervently before she noticed the rather lecherous grin the blonde ace was sporting. “And such a fine sight it is, too.” She leaned over a bit to be better able to peer down Sanya’s front.

“DON’T LOOK AT SANYA LIKE THAT! GAAAAAAAHHH!” The easily incensed and jealous would-be lover was quickly chasing her laughing team-mate across the room, determined to make sure no impure eyes fell upon her precious one.

Hartmann however made a dash back toward Sanya’s couch and landed with her head in the young girl’s lap, looking up at her surprised face with an insolent and somewhat flirty smirk. “Hi there.”

Eila’s responding roar was almost primal in nature, and she dived after still giggling woman with murderous intent. Barkhorn scooped them both up as they tried to pass her, one rioting girl held in each hand with Hartmann just out of Eila’s reach. “LET GO, LET ME KILL HER!”

“Stop this right now!” Sakamoto barked, succeeding in making the two blondes quieten down. “This is not the point, what we need to discuss is...”

While the others in the room obeyed Sakamoto’s command Minna did not appear to even listen and instead leaned over to Sanya. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, could you tell me where you shop for those lovely...”

“Minna!” Sakamoto complained “Please pay attention! We should try to find out about these, these...”

“Babies.” Sanya stated in a quiet but absolutely certain voice, snuggling the two tiny bundles closer.

Silence followed the statement for a moment, then:

“Juutilainen!” The group’s acting big sister was not pleased.

“For heaven’s sake Barkhorn, what do you want me to say? They were sleeping on us when I woke up this morning, I don’t know how they got there!”

“Well they didn’t get there by themselves.” Sakamoto added, glancing at the bundles in question. “The mother must be somewhere nearby.”

A slender pale hand waved while the other held a careful grip on its fragile cargo. “Here.”

Another lapse of silence.

“Erm... Sanya,” Minna began carefully. “what do you mean exactly when you say..:”

“I am the mama.” Sanya bestowed a kiss on each fuzzy head, smiling softly. “Yes. I am your mama.”

Everyone gaped at her, Eila went very pale, and Barkhorn’s face grew dark.

“JUUTILAINEN!”

Eila scrambled back from the forbidding and faintly glowing woman. “H-hey, I don’t know why she’s saying that, but really... just what are you saying that I have done? Think... about it...”

Eila’s protests faded to the sight of Sanya getting up from the couch to walk over to where Eila and Barkhorn were standing, her self-proclaimed babies in her arms.

“Kiss your papa hello.” Sanya told the bundles and held them both up to Eila’s face. Obediently twin mewling sounds were heard, and two tiny faces gave Eila’s cheeks a wobbly and wet nuzzling.

“P-p-p-p-p...” After the initial moment of frozen shock Eila took on an appearance remarkably similar in colour and radiance to that of an active Neuroi core. “p-papa?”

Seeing Sanya cuddle her babies and look up at her with absolute adoration instantly stopped Eila’s heart. Fortunately the even more agitated Barkhorn shook it back into order when she grabbed Eila by the front of her top and started yanking at her roughly.

“PAPA? Juutilainen! Take responsibility for what you have done!”

“B-but, but...” Eila’s arms flailed about even more than she did from Barkhorn’s manhandling. “exactly how are you suggesting I would have been able to father anything?”

“And even if I could, my babies would not be KITTENS!”

“Little Saila looks like Eila.” Sanya told Lynette and Yoshika whom had come closer to admire the cute little balls of fluff. “She has her eyes.”

“Oh you’re right!” Lynette cooed at the yawning and blinking black kitten. “She has blue eyes.”

“And look, she has a white spot at the end of her tail, just like Eila-san.” Yoshika added, carefully petting a tiny head. “What is the other one called, Sanya-chan?”

“My... eyes?” Eila’s protests were beginning to drain both in strength and volume. “How can a cat have my eyes?”

“Her name is Ilyana.” Completely ignoring Eila Sanya shifted the white kitten with black-tipped ears gently. “Her eyes are green like mine.”

“Juutilainen, what kind of soldier are you! Take responsibility I tell you!”

“...”

“They are adorable.” Minna admired the kittens while discreetly keeping the slightly over-eager Lucchini from getting close enough to simply grab the ‘babies’ and make a run for it.

“Alright, ALRIGHT! If you can find a priest that will marry a fourteen-year-old girl to a fifteen-year-old girl then I will GLADLY take responsibility, okay?” Eila managed to brush Barkhorn’s hands off her clothes. “In fact it’d be my honour to raise a whole litter of kittens together with Sanya.”

She huffed as she turned away, only to find herself face to face with a blushing yet beautifully smiling Sanya. The openly loving look directed at her from the slightly blushing younger girl instantly turned Eila into steaming pink-tinted goo, and all else just fell away. “Saaanyaaa....”

Barkhorn grunted in approval and nodded. “Good soldier. Leave the arrangements to us.”

Sanya carefully placed her precious babies in Yoshika’s arms, giving the suddenly solemn girl a look that warned her that Sanya was trusting her with the little ones so she had better take good care of them. Yoshika gulped and nodded wordlessly before Sanya turned back to the still spaced-out Eila.

“Eila?” Sanya both looked and sounded shy despite the fact that she had just slipped herself into Eila’s unresisting arms and wrapped her own around the taller girl’s neck. “Would you really marry me?”

Still mostly lost in her magical fluffy Sanya-world Eila forgot to deny it or otherwise be contrary. “Yeah... I would...”

With that Sanya smiled happily, got up on her toes slightly, tilted her head, and proceeded to kiss Eila like there was no tomorrow.

Most of the other girls present politely turned the other way, letting Eila and Sanya have their moment at least somewhat to themselves.

“At least the kittens will have a loving family.” Lynette giggled, causing Yoshika to giggle along with her. Barkhorn nodded her approval once more but did not comment.

Hartmann lit up in a fiendish look, rubbing her hands. “Alright! Who wants to have babies?” She zeroed in on the startled Lynette, making a playful charge at her with outstretched arms. “Lynne, have my baby!”

With a gasp and a very angry look Perrine dashed forward to put her arms around Lynette and yank her out of Hartmann’s way. “You idiot! Can you never behave?” She scolded Hartmann angrily, not realizing that she continued to hold on to the blushing but pleased-looking Lynette. “Honestly, for a Karlsland soldier I think you must be defective!”

Grinning unrepentantly Hartmann shrugged and turned to another victim. “Shirley! Have bitty bunny babies with me!”

The red-headed Liberion just laughed when the blonde glomped her ample cleavage, and only more so when Lucchini joined in, jealously swatting Hartmann away from her favourite toys. “Nah, I think the two of you can have my babies instead.”

Outraged once more over the behaviour of her younger comrade Barkhorn was about to step in and give Hartmann an earful about the way a soldier of Karlsland should conduct herself, but she was effectively stopped when a pair of arms slipped around her and a warm, curvaceous body pressed up against her back. Mind suddenly short-circuited Barkhorn froze in place.

“’Trude,” A warm and sultry voice breathed into her ear. “would you like to have puppies with me?”

A small distance away Sakamoto ducked behind a startled Yoshika, peering fearfully at Minna from her hiding place.

Hearing no protests from the immobilized woman Minna took that for an approval, and while smiling and humming happily pulled the stumbling brunette out of the room by the hand.

Taking that cue the others began drifting out of the room as well, apart from the couple that was still quite enthusiastically kissing one another.

“I am Yoshika, sort of an aunt to you I guess.” Yoshika spoke quietly to the kittens as she started to make her way out of the room. “You will be staying with me for a little while.”

She glanced back at her embracing friends and giggled. “Maybe for more than just a little while.”

Sakamoto shook her head and sighed.

“...I really just wanted to know how they got here...”

FRAILTY pt2

What if a woman very much down on her luck, broke and with her health in tatters were to come upon a very special kind of lamp?
An old story that I finally managed to finish. Part two of FRAILTY.

Read FRAILTY pt2

Disclaimer: This is an original story, so no disclaimers needed. It is a lesbian story, as all things I write, really, and has somewhat of a fairytale slant, or my kind anyway.

Thanks to kind reviewers, especially one that goes by “Spikesagitta”, I was able to pick up this story and finish it even though it had been years since I wrote the first part.
Thank you. *smiles*

The first part can be found here: http://ryufic.blogspot.com/2007/07/frailty.html




FRAILTY pt 2
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





When Riley opened her eyes again it was a slow and struggling process, sleep fighting her for control of her body every step of the way. Blearily and groggily Riley blinked at the ceiling, her body heavy with sleep still and her mind taking unaccountably long to process the usual inventory list of her body which she was long since accustomed to go through upon waking, or at least was accustomed to upon those mornings when waking up was a less violent ordeal.

Though it took her a while, it was with rising alarm that Riley came to the conclusion that something was wrong, and very very wrong at that.

At first she could not put her finger on it. She lay still and tried to go over her body’s responses one by one, a method which had served in the past to help locate the malfunctioning part. This time however the end result was puzzling, for apart from a heavy lethargy there was nothing hurting, pulsing, cramping or cutting going on. It took a good long moment more while Riley lay there frowning, deep in thought, before the obvious truth presented itself.

The strangeness she felt was the fact that for the first time in longer than Riley could easily imagine there was no pain. No pain whatsoever, anywhere. Riley flew upright on the drawn-out couch, heart thundering in her chest.

No pain?

No sooner had the memory of how she had collapsed in Isaber’s arms surfaced than a smiling face surrounded by dark red curls came into view. Riley stared at the smiling... well, what exactly was she? At this point Riley was willing to consider her a saving angel.

“How do you feel?” Isaber asked with a warm voice, reaching out to brush a few strands of hair out of Riley’s eyes.

Riley took a long moment to reply. How did she feel? She stared at her hands, not only did they not feel like her own should, they looked oddly different as well. “I’m not sure... strange, I think.” She conceded at last. “There’s no pain.”

“Good, because there should not be.” Isaber smiled more and took one of the so critically inspected hands into her own. “You will probably feel a bit strange for a while though, before you get used to not being in pain again.”

“It really... worked?” Wonder warred with disbelief on Riley’s face while earnest dark eyes looked to her companion for answers.

“Did you doubt me?” Isaber teased gently, still smiling. She patted the hand in hers comfortingly and made a small gesture towards the bathroom. “If you are still not sure, have a look for yourself. I think you will be surprised.”

Riley nodded and gingerly rose to her feet, making a slightly wobbly line to the bathroom mirror as she had not expected the strength in her limbs, causing her to be just slightly off balance. She was not sure what she expected to find, just that it was not what looked back at her from the slightly cracked mirror above the sink.

It actually took her several minutes to grasp that the face she was looking at was her own, just no longer skinny, pale and sunken in on itself. Her face like the rest of her was... strong was the word that came to Riley’s mind. An inspection confirmed it, her entire body was now a solid, somewhat muscular and slightly tanned thing, the appearance which she could imagine she would have had if illnesses had not ravaged her life. Was this really her?

Next to a wide and strong shoulder Isaber appeared to meet Riley’s gaze in the mirror. “Your wish was to be healthy, so this is your body at its peak health-wise. Illness and disease can no longer touch you in any form, though I want to warn you that you can still be hurt and still die no matter how strong and fit you are, so kindly keep that in mind and do nothing which would endanger you.”

“No illness?” Riley sought reassurance while looking from her hands to Isaber and back. “None whatsoever?”

Isaber simply smiled and shook her head, and then giggled softly as Riley sat down on the floor with a thump, dazedly looking at her hands again. After a moment there was a softly whispered wow from the dark-haired woman whom then turned towards Isaber with the widest of smiles and tears pouring down her cheeks.

With a fond look Isaber sank to her knees next to Riley and put her arms around her in another hug. There was an awkward kind of desperation in the way Riley clung back and sobbed quietly into a flimsily clad shoulder.

Isaber stroked the dark hair and hummed comfortingly until the torrent of emotion seemed to have calmed itself down. “If you think you are up to it, what do you say about cleaning up and going for a small walk outside? You slept for a few hours, so it should be about midday now.”

Dressed anew in clothes that to Riley’s embarrassment no longer fit the way they had, they ventured out in the sunlight. Out of habit Riley found herself having tucked her asthma medication into an inside pocket and she squinted her eyes when stepping out the front door of the building, instinctively protecting eyes that had been painfully light-sensitive for years.

There was not even the faintest sense of discomfort, from her eyes or any other part of her body. Even the last vestiges of lethargy fled as Riley walked out into the light and, completely filled with the wonder of it all, slowly walked through her neighbourhood as a woman reborn. It was as if the entire universe had been remade around her, and with barely containable joy and amazement Riley wanted to absorb it all.

Had the sky always been that blue? Had the light and the breeze always felt this sweet against the skin of everyone else, everyone that had not been like her?

So wrapped up in this experience was she that it took a good long while before Riley began to fully notice the reactions of people around her. Most passed her by without much notice, but there were those that did, like a pair of young women waiting at the bus stop that openly appraised Riley and called out a few flirtatious invites as she passed them by.

Isaber laughed at the fierce blush on Riley’s face as she hurried out of sight and earshot of the admiring young ladies, and paid no attention to the small frown and pout directed her way. “See how beautiful you are?” She teased instead, laughing some more at the even darker blush that followed. Riley opted not to respond to that and instead just trudged on ignoring her heating face and the amused chuckles beside her.

It was apparent to Riley that people for some reason did not react to the sight of Isaber, even though the breathtakingly beautiful woman wore such strange and revealing clothing. On a few occasions Isaber even had to step around people that simply seemed intent on walking right through her. The redhead smiled and appeared not to mind until Riley finally had to ask outright.

“Why can’t anyone else see you?”

The smile faded and was replaced by a sombre look. “I am not... real, Riley. Not to anyone but you, at least not yet.” There was a strange look in sparkling silvery eyes that Riley could not read. “I exist only for you.”

Riley was not entirely sure why that statement made her blush anew, but it did. It also made her feel unaccountably happy, but then again who would not be happy to suddenly have been given their very own saving angel that could take all pain away?

“Maybe I should tell you” the playful tone returned and Isaber leaned closer. “that since no one else can see or hear me you should not speak out loud to me when we are not alone. People might think you hear voices if you do. Besides, I can hear your thoughts anyway.”

Further conversation, out loud or otherwise, was interrupted by the kindly old lady that lived near Riley. The elderly woman was understandably shocked when she realised that Riley was the same person as the pale, reed-thin and sickly woman she would exchange pleasantries in passing with every so often. Riley stammered her way through a flimsy lie about a new treatment working wonders, knowing that she could not exactly say that her salvation had come in the form of an incredibly attractive young woman appearing from a lamp, if she said anything about that she could likely expect to get picked up for some nice place with cushioned white walls and complimentary shirts.

The encounter had Riley disturbed, and so she cut her walk a bit shorter than she first had intended it. Returning to her apartment building she crossed paths with the crotchety old man who lived upstairs, and if the old lady had been shocked it was nothing compared to his reaction to a strong and healthy Riley. The lie was repeated, a bit more convincingly this time and supported by Isaber’s ad libs, and although the old man was hard pressed to believe such a big change could occur in the week or so that had passed since they spoke last, in the end he appeared to agree not to question the how and the why too much. Instead he congratulated Riley and gruffly patted her back in an awkward attempt to convey his happiness over her improved health.

Riley all but fled into her darkened apartment after excusing herself, not liking at all that she had to lie to someone who had shown her kindness, and also uncomfortably aware how bad she was at it. She walked over to the couch and sat down, unconsciously still moving in that careful way that to an experienced observer revealed a person who had learned the hard way that careless movements meant pain.

The springs in the worn out couch complained when Isaber flopped down next to her, immediately turning towards Riley and moving a warm hand across Riley’s cheek.

“Are you really here?” Riley whispered, sounding desperate. If this turned out to be some strange and elaborate dream or hallucination she doubted she could find the strength to keep going.

“Yes. I really am.” The reassurance was gentle, and the look that accompanied it understanding and comforting. Isaber pulled one of Riley’s hands to her face. “See? You can touch me. You can feel me. But...” The hand was pulled down until it was held against Isaber’s chest. “can you tell the difference?”

Riley could barely breathe for an entirely different reason than she was used to, in fact she could do precious little at all other than blush to new and intense heights at the sensation of Isaber’s soft skin underneath her hand. She fought off the instinct to scramble off the couch because silver eyes were looking at her so expectantly, and eventually she managed to calm herself down enough to at least try to grasp what she was being shown.

“...no heartbeat?”

“No heartbeat.” Isaber’s smile was wistful, perhaps even a bit sad. “I exist and I am here, but not the way a human being is. No one else will see me, hear me or be able to feel me, only you. I was created solely for you.”

Although it was true that Riley had only known Isaber for roughly a day, in that brief time she had still been closer to her than Riley had been to anyone in a very long time. This meant that she could not stand to see the kind creature that had been her saviour so sad, so despite her shyness and awkwardness Riley pulled Isaber into a hug, attempting to offer comfort the way Isaber had done for her before.

Isaber was not crying, but she willingly accepted the embrace and leaned her head on Riley’s shoulder anyway. She closed her eyes at Riley’s awkward stroking of her hair, a small smile and a blush stealing its way onto her features.

“You are so warm.” She said softly, almost sighing as she relaxed in Riley’s arms.

“So are y...” Riley’s words were interrupted by an inhuman howl coming from her midsection. She and Isaber sat up straight at the sound and stared, first at one another, then at the sweater-clad stomach which had chosen such loud way to make itself heard.

“I... I’m... hungry?” Riley was stunned and quite a bit worried. She felt absolutely starved, and while she was used to hunger this seemed just far too excessive for her, the way she felt now she could have eaten a whole horse if someone had handed her one on a dinner plate.

Of course then there was the fact that hunger for Riley could be a dangerous thing, with many painful repercussions. It took her a moment before she realised that the illnesses she feared would make themselves known at the moment were also gone, and that at least for now, hunger was just that... hunger.

“Your metabolism is that of a very healthy and fit person.” Isaber patted Riley’s stomach briefly before standing up, beaming at the sitting woman. “You will need to eat a lot more from now on, although it is true that whether you eat a lot or barely anything at all, your body will remain in peak condition.”

It provided Riley with quite a dilemma. She of course had absolutely nothing edible at home, and with her brief, and sadly wasted, splurging with the sandwich the previous day she was already back a bit more in her meagre funds than what she really could afford. She would of course go buy a few packets of instant noodles at the cheap grocery store she frequented, but that food would have to last her until next month, and something about this stronger sense of hunger made her think it would not be enough anymore, a small part of a pack of instant noodles in a pot full of water each day. Her other fallback for temporary hunger pangs, tap water, was not going to cut it either now that her stomach had awakened to how empty it truly was.

Now that she was this healthy Riley would try to get a job, although she knew from experience that with her credentials it was very hard to find even the smallest underpaid job that did not involve certain illegal activities she had decided long ago she would have nothing to do with. She’d do her best of course, and sooner or later Riley was sure she would find at least some work, but that still left her to try to figure out what to do for her increased food costs and other bills until then.

Isaber knelt at her side, her expression compassionate and strangely eager.

“Make the wish. You have two wishes left; you need but say the word and it will all go away. Will you not wish it so?”

“I can do that?”

“Of course. Whatever you may wish that does not involve another, I can grant you.” A pair of slender hands warmed Riley’s knee through the worn fabric of her pants. “I may not be able to do such things as end famine or disease for all humanity, but I can certainly grant you any personal wish as long as you word it right.”

Could she do it? She did not question that Isaber could grant the wish, she had more than proved herself as far as Riley was concerned, rather should she use Isaber’s gift for something like that? It wasn’t as if Riley was against receiving money she had not earned out of moral compunctions, no, she had long ago learned that she could not afford to be that spoiled, but where would it come from? Would her gain be someone else’s loss?

“No, what you receive would not be taken from anyone else.” Isaber seemed amused at Riley’s concerns, yet waited patiently for the dark-haired woman to come to a decision on her own. “It would take on the appearance of having come from somewhere, but it would be wealth that did not exist until your wish was made.”

Well that laid some concerns to rest, but still. Riley could not help but feel that it would be both greedy and selfish of her, yet at the same time the way Isaber had explained the wishes it seemed the wishes were supposed to be selfish in nature. And it would undeniably be wonderful to get all those hospital bills taken care of at long last.

Riley scratched her cheek while thinking, not really paying attention to the woman that was now leaning against her legs while looking at her with obvious fondness.

The hospital bills and the remaining medical bills. Yeah, that would be great. Also the rent she had yet to pay and the bills for electricity and heating would be pretty awesome too, if that was possible. But if she just asked to pay her bills, would the power of the wish deal with all of the things she owed money for, or just the bunch of current bills she had piled neatly on the table in the kitchen?

Money for food would be incredibly welcome as well, though how to word that? And would it be terribly greedy of her to wish for a bit extra, enough so that she might actually go buy herself a bed somewhere? Now that she wasn’t forced to sleep more or less sitting up it would be nice to have a cot or something she could just stretch out on at night.

Besides, though the thought made her blush slightly, it would be nice if she could get a bed that was just wide enough to make better room for Isaber, if Isaber was going to stay with her.

Isaber’s smile widened and she giggled happily as she rubbed her cheek against Riley’s knee.

The wording... how should she put it? How had she worded the wish that freed her from all her illnesses? Riley had been to out of it at that point to remember.

“Umm, I wish...” She muttered, unaware that she was voicing part of her thoughts out loud. “to have enough money to... pay all of the bills...” That sounded about right, didn’t it? Did she need to specify which bills she meant? Oh, and maybe the word bill in itself wasn’t the best choice. “all of my debts and, err, to...” To be able to put food on the table? Nah, too silly and who knew what would happen at that kind of statement. Oh wait. “To be able to afford all of my house, home, food and living expenses” Mentally Riley congratulated herself, that was a good one. Now just to add the bit about affording a bed for them. Though she couldn’t just tell Isaber she wanted to buy a bed for them to sleep in, that would sound weird wouldn’t it? “and to be able to buy... things.” Riley growled, no, that wasn’t it, and it sounded absolutely ridiculous. To buy a necessary thing? A piece of needed furniture? Darn this was hard. Oh and she needed to say for how long, right? All the debts she had now and for the next month or two?

“Up until-“ A bright light interrupted Riley’s muttering and brought her attention back to her surroundings, specifically back to the smiling and now brightly glowing woman kneeling in front of her.

“It is done!” Riley was confused as to which should shock her more, the bright light, the exclamation, or the fact that the other woman practically threw herself into her lap.

“Done?” She blinked owlishly at Isaber who appeared to be quite comfortable on Riley’s lap. “What do you mean, done?”

“Your wish is granted, of course.” She glanced towards the door. “It will not take long before you can tell for yourself.”

“W-what? But I haven’t made my wish yet!”

“Ah but you did. Your wish was to have enough money to pay all bills, all your own debts and costs for houses and other living expenses, and to be able to buy things. I cannot say for certain, but I would suspect that the wish to be able to pay all bills alone will make you a very rich woman.”

Riley’s eyes went as wide as saucers just as a knock could be heard at the front door.

“And there it is.” Isaber said cheerfully and got up from her spot on Riley’s lap. Riley on the other hand stared at her dumbfounded until Isaber, with a small sigh, took her by the hand and pulled her over to the door. “Will you not see who it is?”

Shakily Riley found herself opening the door to find a small group of men in suits standing in the dirty and dingy hallway, led by a skinny and balding man with a very official air to him. She did not know it when she hesitantly and rather timidly greeted them, but their arrival would mark the end of Riley’s old life.

-----

When the whirlwind that began the moment Riley made her second wish finally abated nearly six months had passed, and Riley Thomas found herself in a luxurious mansion in a completely different town than the one she started out in, the sole and long sought-after heir of a previously unknown grandfather whose fortune was so great that no one seemed able to tell Riley just how much money she had inherited. Isaber had to assure Riley that the old man had never actually existed several times before the tall woman could lay her concerns about inadvertently stealing someone else’s heritage to rest.

To begin with, once all her debts had been paid and it started to become obvious to Riley just how obscenely rich she had suddenly become, Riley tried to give her fortune away in a number of ways. After a few eventful days of that kind of behaviour, and the loud protests of the army of lawyers and advisors that were steering Riley through the process of gaining her fortune, Isaber had to sit Riley down and explain to her that the more money Riley gave away, the more the power of the wish would generate, so she would never actually notice any difference no matter how much she gave. The problem was that if Riley gave that much to other people eventually the rule about personal gain would be broken, and if that happened Isaber was not sure just how the powers involved would punish them, only that Isaber herself would ultimately be destroyed.

After that Riley opted to simply accept her new wealth as quietly and graciously as she was at all able to. Although at times it felt as if her life had become an unwanted circus at least she had Isaber by her side, always smiling and providing Riley with a very sweet-sounding voice of reason. Riley’s one last personal act of generosity, before turning such things over to her advisors to handle, was to buy the apartment block she once had lived in, have the building thoroughly renovated, and then finally made it so that the old man that used to be her neighbour could live there for free.

Riley herself never returned to her old home.

While she found she had many people working for her in some way or other, by the time that the strange process finished which took Riley from a woman in threadbare and washed-out clothing living in what amounted to a dank basement, to the woman whom now were given designer clothes to wear and a small palace to live in, Riley found she still had her privacy at least in her own home. She desperately needed privacy, not only for the sake of her own reticence around people, but also for Isaber.

As it was Riley had already gotten quite a reputation for being eccentric, as she tended to forget that people could neither see nor hear Isaber and thus did not stop herself from reacting or even occasionally speaking out loud to her while others were present. Finally though they were left in peace.

From that very first night together Riley and Isaber had shared a bed, continuing this even when Riley’s new home had rooms and beds aplenty. During their second night together Riley ended up spooning Isaber in her sleep, and from the third night onwards Riley would go to sleep with Isaber cuddled up with her head on Riley’s shoulder. Riley never said anything about it, but with her ability to hear Riley’s thoughts Isaber still knew how much their closeness meant to the other woman. What Riley did not know was that Isaber was not able to sleep, and instead spent the nights awake but content to be in Riley’s arms.

They spent all their time together. Isaber did not eat, but that did not stop her from keeping Riley company for dinner, or prevent her from taking a strange interest in the to her complete mystery of cooking. It was mostly a theoretical pursuit on her part, though Riley volunteered herself for the odd occasion when it was not. In many ways it was a bittersweet interest, since Isaber could not herself try to taste anything she might make, or know the flavours and experiences mentioned in the cookbooks she read.

For most part they naturally found things they could share without problem, simple things like watching movies together while curled up on the couch, or long walks in the surprisingly large and very beautiful garden. There were times though that Riley would find herself abruptly reminded that Isaber was not really a normal woman.

One such occasion was when Riley had given serious thought to getting a pet. She had been watching movies about animal rescues and reading magazines for pet owners for days, until she finally approached Isaber with a few glossy pictures of kittens and a shiny, almost childlike, look in her eyes.

“What do you think?” She asked Isaber eagerly, spreading the pictures of various little fluffballs on the table in front of the redhead. “It hadn’t really occurred to me before, but I don’t have to avoid being around animals anymore.”

“They are adorable.” There was something about the way Isaber looked at the pictures that felt a bit off to Riley despite the amused reply she had gotten.

“You... don’t like cats, maybe? Perhaps you would prefer dogs?” Riley was slightly concerned but fully willing to compromise. True she had always wanted to have a cat, but if Isaber preferred dogs she wouldn’t mind having some cute puppy instead.

Isaber shook her head and reached up to cup Riley’s face. “No, I find both cats and dogs quite adorable, and I think I would have liked to join you in playing with either. If you want one you should get one, and I know it would have a good home here with you.”

“But I fear that any animal you would bring here will become afraid of me, as they can neither see nor sense me and surely finding furniture and other things appearing to move by themselves will be unnerving even to an animal.”

Isaber let go of Riley and looked away. “I... am sorry.”

Riley saw the sadness in silver eyes and did the only thing she could think of. She embraced Isaber and held her close, regretting that she had brought the subject up at all. While she might have wanted a pet that was no more than a fanciful thought, and definitely something she could do without. Isaber however meant so infinitely much to her, everything really, and she never wanted to do anything to make the other woman sad.

“Thank you.” Isaber whispered against a cotton clad shoulder, trying not to feel guilty as she lingered in this display of affection for as long as she could.

They did not bring the subject up again that day, although several nights later as they had gone to bed and Isaber curled up in her by now customary place in Riley’s arms, Isaber once more expressed her regret that her presence prevented Riley from doing something she wanted.

“Don’t be silly.” Riley hugged Isaber closer and rested her face against the red hair. “It was just a thought and it doesn’t matter. Not like you do.” Having Isaber with her was Riley’s fondest wish, she had realised that by now.

“Really? I am?” Isaber smiled into Riley’s shoulder, lightly playing with the long dark hair that spilled out around them. “Would you not have used your final wish for something else rather than me?”

“Nothing in this world means as much to me as you do, not even my health.” Riley was shy and awkward when expressing herself in words, even though she knew Isaber would have known that truth from her thoughts for some time now. “Nothing else would matter, if you weren’t by my side.”

There was a happy sound from the slight weight on her shoulder, reassuring Riley that her sentiment was at least well received. “What about you, Isaber? What would you ask for if you had one wish?”

Silver eyes came into view to blink at Riley briefly before disappearing again. “Me? Make a wish? What a thought.” There was a soft giggle. “As long as I could stay here with you I would not need to make any other wish, although there is one thing...”

“I would wish that I was human.”

“Could we do that? Use the last wish to make you human?”

“No...” Isaber shook her head slightly, sighing. “It does not work that way. Your wishes must be about yourself, only indirectly involving anyone else.”

“It seems to me that a wish like that would be about myself also, because I would selfishly want you to stay with me.” And then she could ask Isaber to marry her. Theoretically anyway, if Isaber felt anything along the same lines as what Riley felt for her. Unseen by her human pillow Isaber blushed and smiled brightly. “Well, if that doesn’t work we will have to find another way to make you human.”

“Becoming human is to be my reward once the third wish has been made.” She cut Riley off before she could say what Isaber knew she would at this information. “It is just that I do not know if I will become human as I am and where I am, here with you, or if I will be reborn as a baby somewhere else. I am... somewhat afraid to find out.” Then quietly, while clutching slightly at Riley. “What if becoming human means I shall never see you again?”

Riley’s grip tightened. “Let’s not think about that for now. We’ll find a way to make you human and still stay together, you’ll see.” She tried to clear the thickness out of her voice and steer the conversation in on more pleasant things, thinking that they should sit down and discuss this more properly the following day. They would probably need to have clear minds to come up with a solution for this. “What would you do if you were human, then?”

Understanding that Riley tried to keep them both from becoming too upset Isaber acquiesced and began telling her about the things she had fantasized she would do if she was fully human.

Fortunately Isaber had many, many thoughts on what she would want to do. Most of them were fairly simple, like walking together with Riley through the streets of the shopping district just to know that people saw them together, to cook dinner for the two of them and then get to experience eating it for the first time, or to go and pick out a pair of kittens from the pound together. Others were more complicated.

“...and in winter we would go away somewhere, to where there is much snow and we could make a snowman together. We could learn how to skii or skate, and play around in the snow during the day, and the evenings we would spend on something soft in front of the fireplace.”

Isaber drew slow and light circles over Riley’s collarbone, knowing that the sound of her voice and the images she created with her little stories were lulling the other woman into a peaceful sleep. She wasn’t sure Riley could make out her words anymore, but that was fine. Isaber continued anyway, letting her voice provide its own kind of lullaby.

“You would teach me how to make snow angels, and maybe we would have a snowball fight until we got so cold and wet that we would have to go back inside, and then we would spend the rest of the day cuddled together on the couch.”

“And eventually, one day...” Isaber’s voice grew quieter, coloured with a different kind of emotion. “We would do those things I know you sometimes dream of. We would share ourselves in that way that humans do when they love one another deeply.”

The hand stilled and the story faltered, Isaber listening to Riley’s heartbeat for a moment. “And we would kiss.”

“Mmnn...” Riley agreed, sleeping yet some small fraction of her remaining awake enough to have understood Isaber’s words and tried to reply to them. “Wishhacould... kishyou... saber.”

Isaber stiffened immediately. “R-riley?” She gasped, and then, when the dark room suddenly began filling with light, “RILEY!”

Riley shot upright instantly. “What? No!” Isaber was crying although her tears were barely visible for the strong glow that grew brighter and brighter. “I haven’t made a third wish! I haven’t!”

To Riley’s surprise their lips met, soft and warm and all too briefly. Then as they drew apart as suddenly as they had come together, she could see Isaber cry and shape her name although no sound was heard.

Crying herself now, Riley tried to grab onto Isaber, but before they could touch the glowing subtly changed, and to Riley’s horror Isaber’s face became translucent for a very brief moment before finally she disappeared in a soundless explosion of glowing sparkles.

Then the room turned dark again, with no sign of anything having happened there remaining. There was no trace that there had ever been someone else in the bed beside her at all.

Clutching her head Riley screamed like she had never done in life before.

“ISABER!”

But there would be no answer. Riley was alone.

-----

Two weeks passed, and Riley was in such a miserable state that those that came to see her, her employees, feared for either her life or her sanity, perhaps both.

She would not eat, would not speak nor move from the spot on the floor where she had been found. She would not take care of herself in any way, the only thing she did besides staring brokenly into nothingness was to drift off into fitful and haunted dreams from time to time.

It had gone so far that the advisors reluctantly began talking about having her forcibly admitted somewhere for psychiatric help, before one day everything changed.

“Miss! Miss, you can’t just go in there!” A man’s agitated voice was followed by the sound of running.

“I have to! Riley is waiting for me!”

The sound of a familiar warm and melodic voice snapped Riley out of her stupor enough to focus on the here and now. Dark eyes turned to where the sound of running came closer. Then suddenly there she was.

“I-isaber?” Riley’s voice was raspy and her tone fearful. She couldn’t take it if this was another dream.

“Oh... Riley.” The woman who stopped a mere few steps out of Riley’s reach had tears pouring down her cheeks, yet she was smiling. It was such a familiar smile.

She looked different, Riley dimly noted, a little more substantial maybe, or a trifle more tanned. She did not wear the flimsy outfit anymore, instead she wore denim pants and a white sweater that hugged the generous curves nicely underneath a short jacket. It had rained outside so the mass of unruly red curls were even more unruly than usual, sticking out in odd directions in some places while slicked down in others. Isaber had never looked more beautiful to Riley.

Riley struggled to get to her feet. Strange, she felt as if she was coming out of one of her more crippling asthma attacks from back when life had still been so bad; suddenly there was an easing of hard steel bands that had crushed her chest and she could begin to breathe again. “Isaber?”

She was pushed down on the floor again as she found herself having a sobbing redhead wrapped around her neck and crushed tight against her. Even chilled by the rain Isaber felt warm to Riley, she had felt so endlessly cold the weeks that the other woman had been gone.

There was a shuffling sound and then heavy footsteps moved away, the man that had chased after Isaber clearly coming to the conclusion that she was a welcome guest after all. Finally there was the sound of a door closing, and Riley and Isaber were alone.

“I am sorry it took me so long to come home.” Isaber whispered with a thick voice, her breath brushing against Riley’s ear. It was a new experience, since Isaber had never seemed to really breathe before. “I woke up in a hospital a few days after we parted, they told me there that I had been found in an alley and had been unconscious since I was brought in. It took a week before they would agree to release me as they believed I have amnesia, and after that it took me a while to find a way to be brought here.”

“You are really here.” Riley whispered, running her fingers adoringly over familiar features and through red curls. “I thought I had lost you forever.”

Then she closed her eyes as the tears spilled over, and clung to Isaber while she wept in silence.

They still clung to one another after the torrent of emotions had passed and the tears caused by the uncertainty of their parting had ceased. Isaber giggled slightly and drew her head back just far enough to meet Riley’s eyes, freeing one hand to tenderly wipe at wet cheeks. “Riley,” She breathed, excitement in her voice. “I am home!”

“And I love you.”

With that she pressed her lips to Riley’s. Once Riley overcame the initial surprise of feeling soft lips moving against her own she responded enthusiastically, the two of them eager and willing to make up for lost time.

After a long while Isaber broke away to breathe while Riley moved her attention to Isaber’s neck. “Oh! It is truly glorious to be human.” Isaber moaned, causing Riley to chuckle slightly against her throat.

They drew back further to be able to look at one another.

“I love you.” Riley’s eyes were open and earnest, making Isaber feel both grateful and reassured that even though she could no longer hear her thoughts, it would not be hard to tell what Riley was thinking of. Isaber knew her so well that all she had to do was look into those eyes and she would know.

“I love you too, Riley.”

They smiled at one another.

“Welcome home, love.”

Night Alone

Strike Witches-fanfic. Eila thought she needed a night alone with her thoughts. Sanya just needed sleep.
(Eila/Sanya)

Read Night Alone

Disclaimer: All things Strike Witches belong to Gonzo and a bunch of others, though I’m sure I’m not hurting anything by borrowing them for a bit.



Night Alone
---------------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





A sudden shaking of the bed wakes me up from a peaceful sleep, half convinced that the enemy himself is jumping on my mattress before charging in to personally slit my throat, though it takes but a heartbeat before I realise what is really going on.

Sanya.

She missed her door again and thought my room was hers, and thus woke me up when she flopped bonelessly into my bed, probably already asleep when her head hit my rumpled sheets. Honestly, she is so incorrigible and helpless, I can’t help but worry for her constantly when she is out of my sight.

She is adorable of course, where she lies all curled up in the centre of my bed so innocently, it doesn’t matter what frustrations I have, I could never have the heart to send her away. And to imagine that tonight I had actually hoped I would get to sleep by myself.

It isn’t that I don’t want her here with me, far from it, if I had my way there would be no moment during days or nights that we were not together. I also certainly don’t mind sharing my bed with her, even though I suppose I should, seeing as how she always presses me either into the wall or plain out of bed and it is starting to get too cold in here to sleep without blankets.

I interrupt my musing by tucking her in, surrendering my blanket to this sleeping beauty without much more grumbling and do what I can to make myself comfortable with my back against the chilled stone wall. Perhaps I should consider moving the bed away from the window if this continues, or at least start putting an extra blanket on it.

Ahh, but she really is so very beautiful. I so enjoy watching her sleep like this, so sweet and innocent and perfect. My fingers itch to run through her hair or to caress her pale cheek, but as always I keep myself in check.

She doesn’t feel that way about you, I remind myself sternly and try to ignore the pang of almost overwhelming pain that accompanies that thought, like I do the tears that prick at my eyes.

I am not some soppy little girl that can cry and mourn over her unrequited love, no, I am a soldier and this is how life is sometimes. No one can promise you love and happiness ever after, and besides, if it is a matter of real love then that doesn’t matter. Even though she won’t feel the same I’ll still love her forever; I don’t need to make a nuisance of myself because of it. I’ll just stay here, looking after her, making sure she is as safe and as happy as I can manage, and if the day comes, I’ll do the hardest thing I have ever done in this life.

I’ll find the strength to let her go.

That was the idea, anyway. I guess I just never imagined that the day I would have to let her go would come so soon, or that the person she chose would be so unsuitable, so unworthy, of her.

No, that is unfair of me, Miyafuji is a good kid, kind and friendly if a bit naïve. It isn’t her fault that Sanya is interested in her, or that she does not have any interest for Sanya in return beyond friendship.

This is why I wanted some time to myself, I’ve got just way too many things buzzing around in my head that needs sorting, and, well, I’m not some kind of superhuman. I felt the need to just clutch my pillow and try not to cry over her.

Ahh, but look at her. She is blushing so prettily in her sleep.

Who are you dreaming of Sanya? Whose image is it that can manage the feat to bring colour to those porcelain cheeks of yours? What dreams are you having that can garner such a response from you even in sleep?

But I know already, don’t I? After all, there is only that one person that makes her blush. That is why I figured it out, how she feels about Miyafuji. She had never taken notice of anything or anyone around us before, all that existed was our private little world of just Sanya and me. Then Miyafuji came along and got her attention. And I have seen Sanya blush around her, the merest dusting of colour that anyone not so focused on everything about Sanya would surely have missed.

I sigh. It might be unrequited and all, but I surely love her.

My fingers itch again, just for the slightest caress. Automatically I struggle to ban the thought, but then it comes to me, the image of the kid and her grabby hands.

Would it really hurt any, if I just brushed my fingers across that cheek? This moment is all that I have, after all.

I feel quite sinful even though it is such a small thing, just letting the fingers of one hand slowly brush against Sanya’s cheek. It isn’t as if I haven’t done far more while she has been awake, wiped at her face or helped her wash, or whatever else she may have needed me to.

Sanya giggles and smiles in her sleep and I freeze, hand still slightly touching her face. Did I just wake her up?

“Eila.” Sanya breathes and giggles softly again, and while I lie here shocked to the core and absolutely immobile she grabs my hand with both of hers, holding it surprisingly firmly against one cheek. A long moment passes while neither of us move or speak.

“S-Sanya? Are you awake?” I manage quietly after a while, my heart, newly migrated to my throat that it is, beating so loudly that I can barely hear myself. “A-are you?”

In response Sanya makes this tiny smacking sound that suggests that she is indeed sleeping, and a sluggish move towards me. Amazed I watch as the smile starts to waver when the hand not currently holding mine reaches out slightly to find nothing. This prompts a tiny noise of displeasure, and with my heart still pounding I chance closer, within her reach to see what she will do.

The slender hand lodges in my top and the smile turns a sleepy brightness that tugs at my very soul, and the blush that had faded slightly returns. Then a sudden flopping motion later Sanya is in my arms, her face burrowing into my neck and her hand clutching at me drowsily.

“Eila.” She says and giggles again as she makes herself comfortable. My heart just about stops as I feel the soft brush of lips against my collarbone, accompanied by the slightest squeeze from the arms now wrapped around me.

“My Eila.” Sanya sighs contently and then there are no more words, just a soft and barely audible snore coming from the area of my shoulder.

Her Eila huh? Oh most definitely. Although her Eila thinks that maybe she has been a big fat idiot.

So I am the one Sanya dreams of? Even when she smiles and blushes in her sleep, that is because of me? Since when did I get that lucky?

I can’t help it anymore, I start to sniffle. Guess I am but a soppy girl in love after all, though I’m not entirely sure what to feel. I am happy because Sanya called me hers even if it was just in her sleep, but at the same time I am terrified that I will let myself hope for something that could just be an illusion.

So what do I do? I hold her close, wrap my arms and the blanket both around her so she will be warm, and place a kiss on top of pale downy hair. Though I’m not being noisy by any stretch I still hope I won’t disturb her sleep while I struggle to get the tears under control.

Of course this is the moment Sanya wakes up.

She simply rolls completely on top of me, not leaning on me as much as she is lying on me lifting her head to peer at me owlishly with sleepy, squinting eyes. She blinks at me and all I can think of is how little we are both wearing, and oh my god there is bare Sanya-skin all over me and... cold showers, I’m thinking of swimming laps, outside, with my strikers on. Back home, in Suomus. In winter. Yeah.

Green eyes open fully and sleep gives way for concern. Oh right, Sanya has never seen me cry, I think as slender hands cup my face, tilting me down slightly towards her.

“...why?” The question, when it comes, is typically Sanya. Why waste more words than needed, when she knows I will understand what she means. It is one of her many little quirks that I love so much.

“Eila?”

I’ve been silent for too long, now she is frowning and look worried. Though I want to reassure her and I struggle to find the words to do so, nothing comes out. I have not the faintest idea what to say.

What can I say? You are my everything, won’t you please love me back?

It happens so quickly, and in the end I don’t know which one of us is the more shocked by it, her or me. One moment I am looking into her eyes trying to find my voice, the next I throw words out the window because I choose to kiss her instead.

I am kissing Sanya. Me. Eila.

Ohmigod.

I snap back, a wide-eyed, sputtering and frankly terrified wreck, and if she wasn’t unintentionally pinning me down I would probably be on my flailing way out the door within seconds.

Sanya stares at me.

Caught by those eyes I’m not sure what I am doing anymore, I try to say something but all I end up with is fish impressions. Sanya tilts her head and draws slender fingers across her lips, and if I weren’t weak in my knees before I certainly would be now. Then the attention of those fingers shift from her lips to mine, and I can’t help but whimper at the sensation.

She moves so slowly when she leans in, making it almost painfully obvious that she is going to kiss me, and in taking her own sweet time about it she almost makes my head explode with the pressure that for some reason is building in my ears. It might have something to do with the fact that I stopped breathing some time ago, but that hardly seems important now.

The kiss is slow and gentle, and her lips so soft and not entirely closed. After the initial and instinctual quick prayer to whatever god that cares to listen, I respond in kind, and it is more amazing than I could ever have dreamt.

It is over far too soon, though I am not sure whether the protesting whimper comes from her or me as Sanya draws back. Her exhale sounds slightly ragged and it makes me shiver, but that is nothing compared to the look in her eyes when she opens them. Is that the red alert going off or am I just hearing things?

Sanya tends to be so quiet and shy, and looks so much like a delicate little angel, that it just never occurred to me that when awakened to romance she might be the passionate one. I am learning differently now, as she grasps my head with both hands and, with darkened eyes and parted lips, claims me for hers with such passion it turns me into a puddle of vaguely Eila-shaped goo right there.

This time there is no backing away, and what we lack in experience when it comes to this kissing thing we make up for in enthusiasm. We learn together, the shape and flavour and texture of this new thing we share, and the kissing is as unending as our shared delight and passion for it.

After a time that could be either forever or a single moment, if not both at the same time, Sanya does draw back after all and I, after coming out of my Sanya-induced haze, quickly understand why just by looking at her.

She is torn, she doesn’t want to stop yet, but she is honestly worn out. It has been a very long and tiring day for Sanya and she is in desperate need of sleep. I chuckle and caress her cheek as she pouts at me, and then carefully urge her to lie down. She protests a little without words and frowns at me, a slightly unsure look in her eyes coming across as clearly as if she had put her thoughts into words.

“I would like to kiss more too,” I tell her, “but what kind of a girlfriend would I be if I let you get no rest before your duty shift tomorrow?” Internally I am crossing every available appendage that I am not being too presumptuous calling myself her girlfriend, but armed as I now am with the knowledge of the velvet inside of her mouth and the electric touch of her tongue, I am rather hopeful that I should rate as something.

She blushes slightly and smiles at the sound of that, not the small and adorably shy smile I’m used to see, but a much wider, larger one that sparkles in the most incredible way. She nods happily and lies down, making herself comfortable on top of me as I lie there and mouth WOW to the ceiling. If I wake up in the morning and all this will have been a very elaborate and wonderful dream I will be one cranky witch, that is for certain.

Soft lips press against the side of my throat and I hear a sleepy mumble as Sanya tightens her grip on me. I ask her to repeat herself and she does, only a fraction more distinctly this time.

“...kiss more tomorrow?”

I chuckle and hug her tighter. “Yeah, we’ll kiss more tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Sanya.” I can feel her smile against my skin.

“Sweet dreams... my Eila.”

There is another soft brush of lips, and then within moments I hear the soft sound of Sanya’s snoring. I grin like the moron I fear I far to often am around her, but if it means getting to be this happy then I’ll be the moron anytime. A funny little thought hits me before I let myself drift into sleep lulled by her presence, and that is that from now on I hope I will have no nights alone in this bed.

After all, who needs extra blankets when you can wear a warm, sleeping Sanya instead?

A Love That Is Mine 9

Strike Witches-fanfic. Sanya on the subject of love, home, belonging and future, which are all spelled Eila.
Ninth part in a series of short stories.
(Eila/Sanya)

Read A Love That Is Mine 9

Disclaimer: All things Strike Witches belong to Gonzo and a bunch of others, though I’m sure I’m not hurting anything by borrowing them for a bit.

This is the ninth part in the “A Love That Is Mine”-series.

I briefly mention something in this story which suggests that the girls got to keep their striker units with them after the team got disbanded. That doesn't really seem likely to me, but since some of the girls are still wearing theirs in the end snippet of the show I left that bit in. Please ignore it if it doesn't make sense to you.




A Love That Is Mine 9

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





The first time we met I looked into her eyes and had the strangest feeling that I had come home.

At the time I had travelled very far and for quite some time, my home was enemy territory and the location of my family was unknown, although I thankfully had just been informed that they were alive. The part of the military that had evacuated my group from the smoking ruins of my part of the country had quickly packed me up and sent me onward to the front where I was going to fight whether I wanted to or not. No choice had ever been given me, and I was scared of what I would find at my destination.

They had shown me files of the rest of the squadron, with names and pictures of those currently at the base, but I was too anxious to focus on them. I clutched my toy, the only piece of the past I managed to save, to my chest and tried not to feel quite so numb as I was passed from one type of vehicle to another until finally we had arrived.

I had seen her picture but it did her no justice. The moment I looked up from the tarmac I looked right into eyes such a dark and stormy blue-grey that they immediately made me think of rain back home, before the destruction. I could even hear the sound of gentle raindrops on the earth when she stepped up to take my hand in hers.

It would take some time before I realized that the sound I heard was actually the sound of her heart.

She charmed me from the start, and I don’t think she meant to. She was, and is, just so brave and strong and kind and wonderful that to know her is to love her. I did not think of love back then, it did not occur to me and I did not know at the time that I was old enough to experience such things. I did however know from that very first moment that we belonged together, like two pieces of a puzzle made to fit together seamlessly.

There was something about her that drew me to her, all the time and regardless of where she was or what she was doing. It amused me to think that we were like these tiny magnets I had used to play with when I was little, how they would immediately snap to one another when I released them. We were drawn together in much the same way, and although back then I had no conscious thoughts of romance I did still have a longing to be that seamless, perfect whole together with her.

She helped me fit in with our comrades and took care of me, and life was good despite the battles we had to fight and despite that I did not know where mama and papa where. I grew more confident, stronger and surer in my abilities, and once our leaders decided that I was strong enough and skilled enough they began sending me out at night, alone. That I did not like.

I love the night, but after meeting her I no longer like to be alone. I want to be with her.

Thoughts of her kept me company when she herself could not, and my spirit always felt lighter as I returned to base with the early dawn for I knew she would be there. I would go to her door to press myself against it and use my abilities to hear and sense her through it. I would stay like that until the steady sounds of her slumber relaxed me enough that I too could sleep, and then I would fumble my way over to my own room and my own solitary bed.

I could not give words to my joy when eventually that door opened to me and I could lie down next to her. She is so warm, even in the middle of the coldest night, and I always long with every fibre of my being to press up against her in whatever way I may, to melt into her.

There were reasons and excuses to begin with, for why I would sleep in her bed rather than my own. Many times she told me in a voice she struggled so hard to make exasperated yet never really succeeded, that I should not mistake her room for my own when I went to bed. Just as I always knew that she did not mind my presence there at all I am sure she always knew that I did not find my way to her bed by mistake. Sometimes it took the very last of my strength to get to her, but it was always my intention to reach her side.

Eventually, finally, she let me know that the excuses were no longer necessary. I was let inside her room to stay, and we allowed ourselves to stop pretending.

From that night onward she has held me close as we sleep, every single time. With my ear so close to her heart I did not need to use my abilities, I could clearly hear the wonderful sound of her heartbeat and together with her breathing it lulls me to peaceful sleep better than any lullaby ever could.

Since I was a little girl my favourite song was always the one papa wrote about the rain, but no longer. The sound I treasure most of all is her beautiful voice, and the most incredible song I know is the sound of her heart. I hope to hear both for the rest of my life, and one day I intend to use the piano help me make her hear at least a fraction of what I do when with her.

A few days after I moved into her room we shared our first kiss. I had wanted her to kiss me for some time, but did not know how one goes about initiating such a thing. I have always had difficulty putting words to my longing, but she understands me anyway.

The first brush of those soft, silken lips changed me. I, who up until then had been largely oblivious to anything that was not her, I found myself taking note of my surroundings suddenly, jealously making sure no one would come too close or be too familiar with her. I also found myself blushing oddly from her touch or her closeness at times.

Then our group was disbanded and our friends were sent away to places we were not to follow.

It had never occurred to me that if for some reason our team would be retired or my specific services no longer needed, I would be taken away. It never crossed my mind that she would be recalled to her home without me, and I would be taken somewhere far away in what remains of my homeland, my opinion of the location as unasked for as before.

Our leader intervened, made the arrangements so that I could continue to stay with the one that was everything to me. She pulled us aside during the confusion near the end of our stay at the base and explained it to us, officially handing me over into the care of my love. She seemed surprised when I hugged her in thanks, and after that a pair of strong warm arms wrapped around me, clearly determined not to let me go. I found I was perfectly happy to leave the base.

Her home, when we reached it, was and is to me like she herself; simply home. Everything is very similar to where I grew up, and I discovered to my surprise that I had missed the colder, clearer night skies of the north. I found myself looking forward to odd little things, like the scent of pine or the sound of snow crunching under my feet.

Most of all I love her home because it is hers, and because it is I wished to discover everything about it. She took me to all her favourite places, showed me where she had played as a little girl and where she liked to go as she grew older. We would often take walks in the moonlight or go on nightly flights underneath the stars just because we felt like it. It was wonderful.

We eventually took that final step in our relationship in a secluded glen at one of her favourite secret places, where the ground was covered in thick, soft moss and we were far away from any prying eyes. It was perfect and beautiful and she was so happy she cried afterwards, while I held her close and swore to myself that nothing will ever take me away from her.

The word love had not yet passed either of our lips at that time, though I did not quite grasp the impact of such words then, content as I was that we showed our love for one another in actions instead. It took but a little while longer before I would be made aware of the importance of words.

Since we first met we had been mutually struggling to learn the other’s native language. Although she claims that I speak her language fairly well she sounds funny when speaking mine, still my native tongue has never sounded quite as charming as when spoken in her slightly lilting way.

Somehow I had gotten unaccustomed to hearing my own language spoken since I crossed the borders for the first time, and so when I moved through the rooms and hallways of our home to hear a familiar voice haltingly speak in that tongue the words themselves did not register with me. Curious as to why my love was speaking this way when I was not with her I followed the sound to our bedroom door without her noticing me.

At first I could not comprehend what she was doing.

As far as I could tell she was addressing my papa, even though she of course was alone in the room and my father still at some unknown location a nation away, and she paced as she was doing it. After a few circuits back and forth across the bedroom floor, arms moving wildly to emphasize something from time to time and head shaking occasionally, I finally realized it.

She was practicing a speech she intended for when she would meet my papa, a speech in which she with slightly broken words and funny pronunciations would declare to him her love for me, that her intentions where I was concerned were honourable, and that she would take good care of me and cherish me always.

By the time she had gotten to the part where she explained that she would marry me if only she could find a place in the world where such a thing was allowed, I stumbled into the room with tears in my eyes.

Not noticing me at first she continued her conversation with my absent papa, assuring him that she would be a good wife for me, then she stopped and had a little argument with herself whether she should say wife or husband, and that is when she noticed me.

She blushed a bright red as I threw my arms around her and told her that I love her too. For good measure I said it in all three languages before the dam burst and I clung to her, burying my head into her shoulder.

It was my time to cry, overcome with joy, and hers to hold and offer loving comfort. Since then we have both made sure that words follow actions and no part of this wonderful, beautiful love we share goes unexpressed.

One day I am sure she will get her chance to make her case to my papa, if that is what she wants. It makes little difference, although I am sure he would appreciate it, for the opinions and decisions of others does not matter. She has my answer already, in a way she has had my answer since that first time our eyes met.

We belong together.

And I am completely and utterly hers.

A Love That Is Mine 8

Strike Witches-fanfic. Yoshika almost lost her chance for love because she was young and stupid.
Eight part in a series of short stories.
(Yoshika/Mio)

Read A Love That Is Mine 8

Disclaimer: All things Strike Witches belong to Gonzo and a bunch of others, though I’m sure I’m not hurting anything by borrowing them for a bit.

This is the eight part in the “A Love That Is Mine”-series.
A small note: In writing this part I discovered that I simply cannot write Yoshika. If you can, try to imagine this being a slightly older and more mature version of her?




A Love That Is Mine 8
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





Teenage stupidity nearly cost me my one chance at love.

It was a confusing time overall for me, when everything I thought I knew had to be re-evaluated and the world around me suddenly became a much larger, darker and scarier place. Add to this that I was a healer and confirmed pacifist doing my best to become a valuable soldier in a war against an enemy I found I could not hate. All in all it was not a good time for my hormones to awaken and make me discover the wonders of the female form.

My timing was poor indeed.

From the first moment we met you fascinated me, and before too long I came to desperately want to please you in whatever way I could. It was a childish crush for most part, the first of a number of similar ones I went through back at our base, but there was always a kernel of something more, something deeper, hidden underneath that where you were concerned.

I think I finally laid my childish crushes aside the day I watched you get shot out of the sky because of me. I don’t like to think back on the pain, horror and fear of losing you, but I know that ever since then there has been room for no one else in my heart.

Of course I did not all of a sudden become smarter, and so it took me a while still to truly understand what to make of my feelings for you. By then we were on the boat back to Fuso, and while we were given immense amounts of respect from the ship’s crew we were still left alone a lot. I had not realised how I had missed that kind of togetherness with you since our last long boat trip together, how I had missed it being just the two of us until that point.

Did you know that you become a softer, gentler person when we are alone? Not that you are all that harsh otherwise, but it is as if you lay down some of that warrior’s mask when it is just the two of us and relax. As if you don’t have to be the war hero and officer quite so much, and can just be the person, the woman underneath it more and more.

This was the person I fell in love with. Yes, I love every aspect of you, including the stoic warrior that is hard on her students and all the more hard on herself, but the woman whose eyes sparkled with almost childlike glee when we were alone and that would blush slightly at odd times, she was the one that charmed me first.

You came home with me, having no particular place in Fuso to return to and no one that waited for your return. I was overjoyed that you would stay with me, that it had been arranged that you would live with my family and even work at my school. You told me from the start that our dismissal from the joint forces was temporary, that you expected that we would be called back into service soon enough and that it just made more sense that we stay together until then. I didn’t care what your reasons were, as long as I got to be a part of your life still.

Coming back home was much harder on me than I would have expected. It was wonderful to be able to hug my mother and grandmother again, to see my friends and my house after having been away for what felt like so long, and both they and I thought I would just pick my life back up from where I had left it. It wasn’t that easy.

I hadn’t noticed it myself, but my time with the squadron had changed me. I wasn’t quite the same little girl anymore; I had fought, I had flown, I had been to war. Try though they did, my family and friends couldn’t fully understand those things about me. Only you did.

Everyone else told me that I had grown up. You were the only one that looked at me and still saw a child.

We trained together, you and I, as hard as we used to at the base. People shook their heads at us, not at all understanding why we did not just relax and rest up now that we could, but I relished this chance. Since target practice and flight manoeuvres were things we could not simulate with what we had at hand, the physical training instead focused on stamina and swordsmanship, with some measure of hand-to-hand thrown in for my benefit. You also began giving me lessons in battle strategy, sharing with me some of your vast experience so that I would no longer have to fly by my guts and dumb luck alone.

I loved every moment of it.

We spent several months at home before we were recalled to duty, and my mother and grandmother both came to adore you. It made me happy to see how well you fit into my family, and even more how you would show a little more of that gentleness I loved so much each day, yes by now I was well aware that I was irreversibly head over heels in love with you. Once I worked up the courage to I had a talk with my mother, whom after some consideration gave me her approval of you.

It wasn’t quite that easy, catching your attention.

Although you often acted rather possessively of me when there were those that appeared to express an interest in me, and that there were many times you would blush and suddenly become quite clumsy, like when you walked in on me changing or I joined you in the bath, you never seemed to get it when I tried to show interest in you. I felt that although, as I then believed, the chances of you returning my feelings were nonexistent I still wanted you to at least acknowledge me and my feelings for you. Instead it seemed to me that at every turn, every attempt, you treated me like a child.

Our recall orders came and I got desperate. It was just a random training day during our several weeks long wait for the ship that would take us to our new base, and we were fairly deep in the woods for one of our mock battles when a sudden and heavy rain took us by surprise.

It was a romantic cliché really, being forced to take shelter from the rain in a small cave together with the person you are so completely in love with. Between that and my irrational fear, the fear that if I did not get to confess my feelings to you before we left Fuso I never would, it was no wonder that everything came spilling out right then and there.

It was nothing like I had pictured it to be. It was clumsy and inelegant, and when I was finished you just stood there, pale and staring at me without saying anything. I embarrassed myself by bursting into tears.

Although it was embarrassing I should be grateful to those tears, because without them I wonder if you would have come to your senses. As it were you gathered me up and crushed me into your shoulder, awkwardly trying to offer comfort. Even when I had calmed down you made no move to let go, and I of course was only too eager to stay where I was.

Uncharacteristically you ended up with an outpouring of your own, and finally it was all laid out. It was humbling to know how very long you have had feelings for me, but also quite annoying that you had decided on your own to dismiss anything we could have together because of the age difference between us. Because of my youth if we were to get right to the point.

I was old enough to pick up a rifle and kill creatures taken right out of my childhood nightmares but I was not old enough for my love to be taken seriously? Well, I have ever been an impulsive person, and this time was no different; I followed an impulse.

For a moment it seemed as if you would push me away, but at the last moment you changed your grip and cupped my face instead, responding to my kiss. Our first kiss was accompanied by the sound or rain and carried a faint taste of tears, but it was still perfect.

We lingered in our embrace long after our kiss had ended, in fact we settled in like that until the rain stopped, sharing soft conversations about feelings and the future as well as comfortable silences.

We began dating then while still in Fuso, small but sweet moments of togetherness that made it feel a lot less like a dream that I might wake up from to me. The ship we were waiting for came, and while the journey to our new base was filled with unexpected little moments of fiercely blushing awkwardness on top of the need to act professional when not alone, I still enjoyed it. It was reaching our destination that I was worried about.

I don’t know just what I had expected. Our base was new but our team largely the same, save for a few new recruits, so we were surrounded by close friends mostly. The dynamics between all of us had shifted somewhat though, as you and I were not the only ones that had found the time to begin dating during our time away from the front, but it was alright. Somehow these new relationship concerns were worked into our daily routines until it caused no disturbance whatsoever to our performance.

I have never commented on it since I don’t know how you would take it, and I was always more than willing to wait for as long as you needed, but I know our relationship progressed at a pace by far slower than anyone else’s at the base. I suppose in some ways I felt I had to prove to you that I was in this for the long term, I the one that had been so flighty and fickle before, but I doubt you ever saw it that way.

Then for my sixteenth birthday you gave me a sword. Not just any sword, but the mate to your own blade, specially made for me and for the kind of combat I engage in. Some of our friends thought it was not a particularly romantic gift to give your girlfriend, but I knew at once what it really represented.

With this gift you told me that I was no longer a child but an adult, and your equal.

I felt much like I imagine a bride does at her wedding day after that, euphoric and giddily happy yet at the same time anxiously wanting the party and the day to be over. I was guiltily eager for the kind well-wishers to leave me alone with my love, whom I was finally allowed to love fully and without restrictions.

Today your own birthday is just around the corner, and the gift I have to give you, to give both of us, rests securely tucked away in a friend’s drawer. It is a box containing two identical plain gold rings, inscribed with a vow that I felt should be ours. I know that there is no country yet that will acknowledge a marriage between us, although there are ways to go around that if we want to eventually, so these are not really wedding bands but promise rings.

If you accept this, if you accept me, and you find you want ceremony we will have one. I am certain our friends will help out, and what matters is not what others have to say about us but the promises we make to one another for our future.

After all, in the end it is not rings, signed papers and blessings that matters, but heart. It is not tradition or meeting the expectations of strangers, but love, our love.

With this heart, I thee wed.

A Love That Is Mine 7

Strike Witches-fanfic. Eila fell head over heels in love with a certain someone at first sight.
Seventh part in a series of short stories.
(Eila/Sanya)

Read A Love That Is Mine 7

Disclaimer: All things Strike Witches belong to Gonzo and a bunch of others, though I’m sure I’m not hurting anything by borrowing them for a bit.

This is the seventh part in the “A Love That Is Mine”-series.



A Love That Is Mine 7
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





I will not call you my first love.

I will call you this because to say that you are first implies that there will someday be another, and there never could be. Yes, I know we are young, you more so than I, and that logic would say that our chances to last are incredibly slim even if our circumstances were more normal.

Well logic has nothing to do with it and we are anything but.

I wasn’t always like this though. Before I met you and before I joined the squadron, I always thought myself a complete person in myself. I was the pride of the Suomus air force, the one that was strongest and had the highest success ratio, and if I was alone it did not seem too strange to me, those around me just could not keep up or adjust to my pace.

Ever since I met you I have been made increasingly aware that what I thought of as whole before is nothing of the sort. Although I can live and function just fine on my own, I am but a me-shaped half that needs to be united with a you to be whole, complete. It isn’t that long ago, yet I can’t remember anymore what my reason for living was, before you.

Everything was made new, made different, the day you came.

I’ve done quite a lot in my life you know, seen and experienced many really amazing and beautiful things. I have seen the world covered in gleaming white frost as thick as the width of my hand during the first rays of morning light up north, and I have heard the cracking ice sing in early spring. I have flown through the aurora borealis, the air crackling around me and ribbons of coloured light twisting across the skies like serpents. I have even flown through one of the greater thunderstorms of recent years, up through and above clouds so violently and rapidly erupting in blue arcs of power that not even my shields would have been enough if my special ability had failed to guide me through.

Yet I had never seen anything so beautiful as when you turned towards me and our eyes met. Breathless I fell into those brilliantly green eyes and I am falling still, I will never return from this world of only you.

If asked I couldn’t say how or why, but I know that I must have completely ignored the welcoming speeches of our superior officers to just materialise in front of you the way I did, holding your hand and dazedly introducing myself as if we were the only ones there. At least your reaction was similar, you surrendered your slender hand into mine and left it there, shyly whispering your name in that sweet soft voice of yours while appearing to stare as deeply into my eyes as I did into yours.

From what I was told later it took several not at all discrete attempts to get us break out of this mutual spell we were under and step apart, allowing for the introductions to continue. You remained fairly close by my side during it, and when certain of our more boisterous team-mates attempted one of their usual playful advances towards you I chased them off with a bit more fervour and anger than strictly necessary.

I was declared your protector right then, mere hours after our first meeting, and it was made my responsibility to take care of you and make sure you made yourself at home at our base. It was an assignment I took on most gladly, I doubt I would have left your side then even if you had been supposed to go with someone else, and from the way I found you clutching the edge of my uniform jacket when you thought I was going to leave I would say the sentiment was mutual.

Oh how much ribbing I took from our friends back then, for my obvious infatuation and my generally goofy behaviour around you. The favourite trick played on me at the time was to get me riled up enough to start ranting about you, and then someone would look over my shoulder and pretend to greet you. I fell for that every single time.

Thankfully the sight of the two of us together soon became common enough a thing that other amusement was found, and newer recruits to our squadron were focused on instead. We were allowed to simply grow together in peace for a while.

Then a special event came, one that had our superiors rather agitated but that it turned out we could not avoid; a formal event where a number of military men high up in the hierarchy of the joint forces were to visit the base along with their aides. The technical aspect would have been troublesome enough for the squadron, and while that part did not involve you or I as we were on night duty our friends were kind enough to make sure we knew what an annoyance it had been afterwards.

The real problem the way our team-mates saw it was the formal dinner and dancing that was being forced upon us despite the strenuous protests of our leaders. I suspect that for those that were opposed to our squadron it was an excellent opportunity to attempt to humiliate us, to say that as we are female and young we should be grateful and eager to provide entertainment for the men that were the true soldiers of this war. For those more benign to our existence the request was undoubtedly perceived as harmless, as a bit of fun on our part as well as theirs, and so there was no getting out of it.

One of the reasons we are such a successful squadron, aside from the number of unusual and incredibly strong abilities present, is that we have a commanding officer that while deceptively sweet and agreeable on the surface is a very shrewd and cunning woman. She ordered us to arrive at the dinner in full dress uniform with all the paraphernalia.

Finding themselves seated next to straight-backed and stern-looking soldiers in the kind of uniform to make them feel underdressed, with scarcely a trace of daintiness in sight if anyone could see beyond the shine of all those medals on display, the soldiers we were seated with were just too uncomfortable to make much attempt at conversation. You were the only one among us to wear a dress, simply because you did not have any official dress uniform and what you wore was what had come to be regarded as your version of a uniform. You were just too cute to be safe among all those ogling men, thankfully though our superior officers had convincingly argued to put the two youngest of our squadron wedged in between themselves, thus keeping you at a safe distance from any unwanted attention during dinner.

As for myself I was seated with a young man who took one long look at me and then steadfastly did not look up from his plate. He greeted me as I sat down, pulling out my own chair thank you, and then never spoke to me again. I could not blame him for being intimidated by me, I wore my dress uniform cut and pressed to perfect crispness, and though I have less medals and other bells and whistles than our resident aces, I still have an impressive collection upon my chest, all polished to a blinding shine. His own decorations were quite modest and drab by comparison, and wisely he opted not to make a nuisance out of himself.

With the dinner being such a strained and subdued affair it was no wonder that when the music started and the dancing was supposed to begin, there was uncomfortable shuffling but no real movement. Well, I was all dressed up to kill and polished to shine, I was not about to let this opportunity pass me by.

Back straight and chin high I marched up to you, clicked the heels of my polished boots and bowed, doing my level best to be absolutely dazzling as I asked you for a dance. You blushed so prettily when you said yes, and I could not have cared less who watched as I took your hand and we moved across the floor in a waltz.

I’m told our friends took our cue, getting up to dance with one another and that way thwarting any unwanted attention from our guests, but at the time I noticed none of that. We danced without stopping until the music at last died down, and a couple of fellow soldiers of Suomus came up to us to slap my back and exchange a few words in greeting before leaving the base.

That night we shared a bed for the first time.

How shy and awkward we were, and how I struggled not to stare at your beautiful pale skin as you undressed. It seems so silly now, how the mere act of going to sleep together was a big deal for us then, although I am grateful that after an evening of holding you in my arms I was not prepared to let you go for such a trivial reason as sleep. Who knows when I would have worked up the courage to invite you to sleep in my arms otherwise.

We both came up with all kinds of excuses or reasons to sleep together as often as we could from that moment on. It became a more and more frequent thing, to wake up to find you having crawled into bed with me, and finally we gave up pretending the night after we saw one of our leaders hospitalised. It had been a trying and unsettling day, and there was just no energy left for pretences. I invited you to stay the night permanently, and you happily accepted before fitting yourself so perfectly into my arms, all warm and soft and sweet like my precious personal version of heaven.

You brought with you your black pillow and your favourite cuddly toy, yet neither ever made it into bed with us as you needed neither another pillow nor something to cuddle with when you slept in my arms, your head on my shoulder and our arms wrapped around one another.

In the tumultuous few days that followed before our squadron was forcibly disbanded, we shared our first kiss.

The only thing really surprising about it I suppose was the fact that it had taken us so long to get to that point, but then again our... courtship, if I might consider it that, has been a slow and steadily building thing. Why would I ever not want to take my time with you?

Our first kiss happened in bed, we had retired for the night yet neither of us were ready to sleep just yet. I was leaning over you, supported on one arm with the other wrapped around you, while you held onto me with one hand gently caressing my face. Our kiss was long, slow and tender, and very much a mutual thing. Passion would come later, and kisses so intense they sent my world reeling and toes curling, but for that night it was all tenderness, complete and perfect.

A few days later the base that had been home to us lay in ruins and our team was sent scattering to the winds.

You had no home to return to, your country still occupied and ravaged by the enemy and the location of your parents still unknown to us. Who knows where those in charge would have carted you off to if they had been given the chance to?

We did not give them that chance. We belong together you and I, and so of course I brought you with me when I was sent back home. It is a good home, you’ll see, and I’m sure you will come to like it here. We will share it and it will be just ours.

Our home.

While I can’t promise you that the hard times are over or that we will get to grow old together, there is one thing I can swear to you, a truth I know above all else in this world:

I am yours, and I will love you forever.