A Love That Is Mine 3

Strike Witches-fanfic. Barkhorn never had time for love before, but with the squadron disbanded she suddenly finds that she has nothing but time to spare.
Third part in a series of short stories.
(Barkhorn/Minna with brief mention of Yoshika)

Read A Love That Is Mine 3

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 third part in the “A Love That Is Mine”-series. Also, since I know nothing about the characters beyond what they reveal in the series I am making up a lot as I go along. If this doesn't fit with novels or whatnot, then that is why.



A Love That Is Mine 3
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





I never had time for love.

Even before the fall of my home country I was a soldier at war, and love had no place in my life. Apart from my duties there was also my adorable little sister to raise and an undisciplined yet promising junior to take under my wing. What time did I have for any fleeting thoughts of romance?

Then that dreadful day came when I failed, failed my country and my beloved sister. In one great and terrible swoop it seemed as if I had lost both, my home in burning ruins and my sister comatose from the injuries she sustained. I lived for nothing but duty and vengeance after that, unable to bear my shame and guilt.

I don’t think I could even tell how much time passed by, until I found myself face to face with a wide-eyed and naïve young recruit that reminded me so much of my precious little sister. I tried to turn her away but she got under my skin anyway.

Everyone suggests that what I feel for her is romantic in nature, that I have some sort of crush on the girl. I am pretty sure that is not it, how could I have those kinds of feelings for someone so reminiscent of my little sister, but I know that I am quite helpless when confronted with her sadness or disappointment. The slightest hint of either stirs the protective older sister in me and I will move mountains to protect her smile.

It is not a crush, I tell you it is not!

Either way she is back in her homeland now, hopefully reclaiming what the war had not already stolen of the remains of her childhood. This is good and I am happy for her.

I still cannot believe that they disbanded our squadron. It makes no sense that they would disband the most successful group in the entire joint forces, the only ones to actually reclaim land from the enemy. Beyond the land that is now freed the smoking ruins of my home awaits, and I wanted us to be sent to press on, to reclaim my native lands as well. Instead I am cooling my heels here, another row of medals on my uniform and a pat on the back as I was pushed out the door.

Usually I leave such things to my superior officer, she is far smarter with these things and by far better equipped to deal with them, but even I can tell that this is all a game of politics. The higher-ups are shuffling us about in their attempts to cover up the Warlock fiasco and the corruption within their ranks that allowed it to happen in the first place. See, this is why she is far better suited to these things than I, she will parry words with them until she gets what she wants, while I am more inclined to put my fist in their faces whilst yelling at them for being honourless bastards.

She told me that I should take this as a long overdue and well-deserved vacation and spend time with my sister, because it won’t be too long before we get reinstated and based somewhere on the frontlines again. I believe her of course, she is never wrong, and so I am doing just that. I suppose I should be surprised that she and our nosy, big mouthed junior have opted to stay with me as well, but I’m not. In times like these one should be with family and family we are, for all that we’re not of the same blood.

I know that without her in particular I would be lost.

I need her to boss me around, certainly, and to reign me in and keep me from making a fool out of myself at times, but that is not all. There is something else as well, though I can’t quite put my finger on it. Perhaps I am just thinking too much.

It is so soothing to listen to her sing, and maybe a bit nostalgic as well since she did not want to sing for so very long. I find I could sit there for hours watching her and listening to her, if she had the voice and the strength to keep going, and I’d feel completely at peace. I would say that such is the power of music, only I have never felt that way when listening to other singers. It is quite strange really.

Normally I would feel comfortable and, well, at home I suppose, by her side, but ever since our squadron was disbanded I have detected a certain steadily increasing change in her behaviour which puts me a bit on edge. It is not that I dislike it, I just find that I do not know how to react sometimes, and I don’t like feeling so confused about her.

It started pretty small. She took to standing just a bit closer than she used to, which was not saying much because she was always a rather touchy-feely person with us, her oldest friends, when we were not acting in an official capacity. I noticed but brushed it aside as nothing.

Then she started... touching me. These casual touches seem different somehow, I can’t really say why. Perhaps it is because they linger a bit longer or a bit more significantly than before, or perhaps it is that she sometimes touches me in ways that are rather embarrassing. I’m not sure if she is teasing me or if she honestly does not notice that when she does things like brush a finger across my lips I light up like red-tinted bonfire.

She leans far too close when we interact as well. Lately she has taken to straightening my ponytails for me when they are crooked, which of course is very kind and considerate of her, it is just that she does it from the front, standing close and reaching her arms around my neck to pull at my hair. She means nothing by it and probably doesn’t think it is strange at all for two old friends to stand like that, but... I fear for my sanity as being that close I cannot seem to stop staring at her. Also a woman of her, ah, generous endowments really do not have the room to stand that close, at least not without... without...

I will not think about that again. No, no, I will not.

She always catches me when I look at her and accidentally think of such things. I curse my blushing for betraying me so easily. And when she does, she always, always responds by teasing me in some way, by touching me in a confusing manner while leaning far too close or even finding it the perfect opportunity to straighten my hair once again.

No, it is not that I dislike it; it is just bewildering and has me thinking things I have no business thinking about a friend. Not that I think such things are wrong for being between women, I’ve seen it often enough with my comrades in arms, but I’m sure she would be appalled to know I harboured those kind of thoughts about her. After all, though I am dense about these things, I am fairly sure her interests lie elsewhere.

I am nobody’s choice for such things.

I am just me, big and strong and only good for combat, someone who will fly and fight for as long as I have enough power in me to hold a shield. When that is gone, my wings clipped and I am grounded, the only thing I have to fall back on is more fighting, no matter how much I know that ground combat is useless against our enemy. It is all I know.

Still, can there be nothing else for me then? Will there never be anything else waiting for me when all the fighting is done?

I long for something. Maybe that is why my thoughts seem stuck on this loop lately, reflecting on that I never had time for love in my life before. Right now it seems I have nothing but time to spare, still when it comes to love I... I...

I wonder...

I wonder if she would laugh if I brought her flowers.