Waltz on the Moon

Strike Witches-fanfic. Eila missed her chance on Sanya's birthday, but she is not giving up. Sequel to "White Angel".
(Eila/Sanya)

Read Waltz on the Moon

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 sequel of sorts to “White Angel”, though I don’t know if you have to read that first to get this. Also, I’ve still not seen past the first 7 episodes of the show.



Waltz on the Moon
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by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson





It was only natural that someone that loves Sanya should celebrate her birthday.

I said those words to Miyafuji as we all heard the notes of Sanya’s father’s piano reach her on her special day from so far away, but I’m sure Miyafuji didn’t get what I was really saying. Just like she didn’t get what I meant when I spoke of how watching Sanya sing, naked by the water and painted by the setting sun, made my heart beat faster and ache.

That’s ok though. Miyafuji is a good person, but all the same I’d rather she didn’t look at my Sanya in that light.

It would have helped if Miyafuji had been aware enough to catch some of my hints that I wanted her to give me some alone time with Sanya that day or night, although with how things happened I guess that was a bit much to ask. Either way, this is why I now, one month later, have made a special request of my superior officers.

...let me engrave into my mind to never ever ask Major Sakamoto for favours which have to do with romance, ever again. That way lies madness and public humiliation, not to mention that despite her tactical brilliance she is incredibly thick-headed when it comes to romance, so she just will not get what you are trying to explain and deny your request anyway.

Commander Minna is by far easier on one’s pride and blood pressure, also she can be very classy and understanding of things like these when she wants to be. Why I even thought to ask Major Sakamoto first I have no idea.

In the end I got my permission, with a few amendments in case of an attack by the Neuroi of course, and also to my surprise an accomplice. I may just have roughly an hour for what I have planned, but with this I am sure to get it as close to perfect as I can make it.

Thankfully we are in one of the ‘safe’ periods right now, when no Neuroi attack is expected for quite a while. My tarot cards have also told me that tonight will be safe and auspicious for matters of the heart. Trusting my luck not to be that bad I carefully pat the longish but narrow canister tied next to my holster and grin at Sanya.

“Eila?” Sanya is worried, her brows furrow slightly and I notice the twitch in the hand where she usually carries her rocket launcher. “Why are we going out on patrol unarmed?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back for them in a bit.” I grin at her and take her hand. “It’s alright, we’ve got what we need for right now. Trust me?”

Her reply is quiet but her answering grip on my hand steady, and to my absolute delight the lights around her head – my angel’s halo – changes colour from green to blue to finally a soft purple. She trusts me.

With a tug and an even wider grin I set us off down the runway, launching into the night sky. As we climb rapidly through the cold air towards the other side of the clouds our fingers entwine, I fight the urge to do somersaults of happiness as it is Sanya that made the move to link our fingers this way.

All too soon we break through the clouds to the other side, to this strange peaceful and silent other world of night that belongs to Sanya and that she will let me visit with her. The moonlight paints the clouds now below us to the palest silver and white, much like Sanya’s hair and skin. She was truly born to fly here.

The sight of her enchants me, and besotted I stare at her for a long moment, forgetting what I had planned until I notice her confused look and that her lights are turning more blue. I sketch a feather-light kiss on her hand before letting her go, untying the cylinder from my belt.

“Sanya” I begin as I twist the top part of the canister. “Your birthday was a month ago, and though I wanted to do something special I couldn’t at the time.” I get the top open by feel alone, as I can’t look away from the wide and shining green eyes before me. “So this is late, but I hope you’ll like it anyway.”

“Happy birthday Sanya”

I pull the single long-stemmed red rose from the container and hand it to her as elegantly as I can manage. I made sure to remove all the thorns beforehand so that there was no risk of hurting her delicate hands, which I am glad I did now as Sanya, whether aware of it or not, is touching the rose caressingly. There is a slight blush on her cheeks and the light has changed again, deepened to a charming shade of pale pink. She inhales the flower’s scent, then turn large and slightly tearful eyes on me.

“Thank you Eila.” Then she is hugging me tight, face tucked into my neck. I hug her back in silence for a long moment.

“Sanya, do me a favour?”

“Yes.” Her answer is immediate, and when she draws back slightly to meet my eyes hers are absolutely serious. I am so in love with her I could cry.

“See if you can get in a radio broadcast from around here?” She looks slightly confused again but do as I have asked, while I smile at her and hope my accomplice has done what she promised. Almost instantly the sound comes, surprisingly clear and free of static, of a woman’s sultry voice in a slow romantic song.

I carefully take the rose from her hands and put it back into the cylinder before attaching it to the side of Sanya’s belt. Her eyes never leave mine. Then I take her hand, bow slightly and with my best smile ask “May I have this dance?”

I may, and we fit together perfectly, twirling away in a waltz on top of clouds so white they remind me of the snow back home. I lead and she moves with me, spinning, sailing, gliding in a dance no-one has danced before us, alone in our magical world. As one song ends another begins, but we do not stop in between them. Sanya’s cheeks are flushed and her smile is wide and happy, the music we dance to occasionally accompanied by her tinkling laughter.

When finally we slow down our dance has taken us high in the air, so that the fullness of the moon appears to be embracing us. As if we had agreed upon it out loud we pull one another closer, her arms around my neck and mine around her tiny waist. Her soft humming tickles my ear as we dance oh so slowly cheek to cheek.

Eventually the song comes to an end, and silence replaces it. I know that this means that our time is running out, but that is a distant concern at best as I am still standing with Sanya in my arms, bathed in moonlight in our black and white world.

I look at her and feel so overcome by my emotions that I know they will be plainly visible on my face and in my eyes. I can tell by the look in hers that she sees it, so it is time to speak up.

“I love you, Sanya.”

My angel gasps and her eyes grow even wider. She blushes so adorably and amazingly enough the lights around her swiftly turn a deep red in hue, a colour I am sure they have never been before. A slender hand cups my face and she whispers something to me in Orussian that I do not know, yet understand anyway.

Then we are kissing, sweetly, deeply and passionately. A vague notion of not overwhelming Sanya with too much too soon flickers through my mind very briefly, but Sanya has no such concerns, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck and her hands guiding my head in our continued exchange. I couldn’t stop now even if I wanted to.

Sanya loves me.

And here in the moonlit embrace of an angel, I am the closest to heaven.


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From her vantage point at the base Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke shakes her head in amusement at the kissing young couple outlined against the full moon. She had stopped broadcasting music for this little lovers rendezvous some time ago, yet the two girls did not look like they were about to come up for air anytime soon.

She really should signal them to come retrieve their weapons and go on patrol by now, but a few minutes extra wouldn’t hurt any. Maybe she was just a romantic at heart after all, but if the Neuroi could have the decency not to interrupt the young couple finding some happiness in their bleak world, well, then Minna would at the very least give them a few minutes.

As she carefully removes the record from the gramophone she wonders if she will have the time to bring out the camera to commemorate the event on Eila and Sanya’s behalf. If nothing else a picture like that should provide for some... interesting... reactions.

Smiling Minna casts another glance at the silhouetted young couple.

Hmm.

Maybe just a few minutes more...