The Hurricane Princess And The Peach, Ep. 02 - Revelation (暴露) I

Advanced Notice

While I initially intended for all of the side stories to remain on a relatively light note compared to the main series, unfortunately this chapter does include military activity similar to the main series; while the gore element is minimal, it is present in this chapter.

❀

So, my two weeks spent assisting the caretaking staff of the Third Division’s HQ site had elapsed and my service schedule had returned to normal. I shouldn’t have been surprised really; less than a week after having cleared my punishment, I was abruptly woken ahead of sunrise.

‘Rise and shine, Nitō rikui. You’re heading back out on active duty again today. Mission briefing taking place at 05:00, so you’ve no time to dawdle.’ The cold and harsh voice that I was supposed to fear but honestly quite admired, maybe more so than was appropriate for the time and place; that of Captain Takeyari.

‘Good morning to you too,’ I waywardly replied. Despite the advice, surely, she wouldn’t mind me stealing an extra second or three gazing at her from a low angle, I thought. Much to my displeasure, by the time I’d sprung up, the tall figure and her neatly tied bun of raven-coloured hair more or less disappeared beyond the door. Checking my watch however, I found that I had little more than ten minutes to be prepared for the mission briefing, so I really did have no time to dwell on the missed opportunity.

Entering the small briefing room with seconds to spare, my brows furrowed almost reflexively; I found myself in the company of only three other women.

‘How nice of you to finally join us, Shimisu.’

‘She has to look her best for you, Captain, and she made it on time; cut her a bit slack,’ one of my fellow seated officers jested, triggering an exasperated sigh from Takeyari.

‘Please, Miyatake; don’t encourage her, unless you’d both like to spend a month bonding over helping with caretaking duty,’ Takeyari sternly advised, fixing each of us with a similarly authoritative glare. With the modicum of jovial energy completely dispelled and the front wall of the room becoming a backdrop for a holographic projection, the ever-serious captain continued, ‘Certainly one of the quieter missions you’ll encounter; today we’ll be conducting a good old reconnaissance task from the 3rd Division’s HQ. Reportedly a cell of Chinese spies has set up shop in the old capital, so we’ve been tasked with setting up shop in the nearby mountains and taking a look at their setup. While we don’t anticipate any direct engagement, I want both Shimisu and Mura to bring their rifles, providing both long-range anti-materiel and anti-personnel capability, should our reported target have a sniper as part of their formation. Understood?’

‘Understood, Captain,’ we synchronously replied.

Pointing again to the holographic map, a little SUV blip appeared at our HQ camp. ‘Good; go and gear up. We’ll be heading out at 05:30. We’ll be taking Yuki to the base of the mountains and hiking up to our vantage points from there.’ As she spoke, the blip proceeded north east, paused and two dots emerged from it and drifted further north. Childish perhaps, but those little animations always made me internally giggle a bit. While one of the dots stopped at one point, the other continued on, further north east. ‘Two teams; Sakura – myself and Shimisu and Team Momo; Miyatake and Mura. Dismissed.’

Following the short interval where we collected our combat clothing, a few rations, standard field equipment and inventoried out ammunition for our weapons, three of us reconvened in the front yard, where officers of varying ranks bustled from place to place. Despite the sunrise still being a while away, the thumping of boots, clatter of hand tools and chatter from HQ staff discussions very much gave the impression that the day was well underway.

My taking in the sounds didn’t last all that long though; rather than taking a closer look at the 1-8x24 scope atop Miyatake’s ACR/ 433-looking assault rifle (which, to my surprise had kana fire selector markings), the short and spiky-haired tomboyish presence of Mura drew my eyes. Specifically, the HK417A2 which she held, with its 508mm barrel, B&T QD suppressor, G28 adjustable stock, and Harris bipod. ‘Ooo; look at you, Miss Scharfschütze. What? Were the Type 64 and M24 not good enough for you?’ I playfully queried.

‘That’s rich coming from you, Shimisu; everybody in the company knows you’re a wannabe Yankee with that big-ass Light Fifty of yours.’

‘Oh ho? Is that right? There aren’t that many options to choose from in the anti-materiel role, so what alternative would you suggest I have?’

‘A DSR-50.’ This woman and her fancy German weapon systems… As much as I hate to admit it; it’s not a bad suggestion TBH. I would have been willing to concede to her but the smug smile she donned after smoothly saying so shooed that idea away pretty swiftly.

‘Why don’t you just go and join the Bundeswehr or GSG 9?’ I snarked in reply. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Captain Takeyari approaching, so I decided to make like a good girl and strike a more conciliatory note. ‘Meh, I probably had the Yankee title coming to be honest. I will admit that I’m a fan of that 5-25x56 M5Xi scope of yours though.’

‘Mhmm; your scope originates from the same nation if I remember correctly, so I don’t know why you’ve been getting your panties in such a twist, Shimisu.’

‘The sun hasn’t even risen and you’re already making impressive progress on earning yourself another disciplinary measure, First Lieutenant Shimisu.’ Sounding ever unamused, Takeyari had announced her arrival. ‘Yuki’s ready to go, so let’s load up and head out.’

I still had no clue who “Yuki” was, so I followed my teammates in mild confusion as we proceeded to the vehicle yard.

Mercifully for me, Takeyari paused and curtly presented to me our dark green transport for the day. ‘An introduction just for our newbie. This here is Yuki, written with the kanji for friend/ companion (友) and rare (希). The GSDF don’t really use the BXD20 High Mobility Vehicle for missions these days and supposedly only three thousand of them were produced. This one’s lived here at the 3rd Division’s HQ since 1998 and is still yet to have a breakdown, so the camp has sort of made her a mascot. She’ll be carrying us around today.’

Might as well then, I thought, before bowing and greeting the SUV with a friendly ‘Pleased to meet you, Miss Yuki. I look forward to working with you.’

While Mura and Miyatake replied with “Aw”s and light giggles. Captain Takeyari emitted what I can only describe as an exasperated sigh. Unsurprisingly, she rolled her stormy grey eyes when I straightened up and attempted to make eye contact. ‘If only you had as much consideration for the image of our company; we aren’t manga or anime protagonists, Shimisu,’ she clinically advised.

❀

Mercifully, Shimisu remained fairly quiet during the hour or so journey up to area of our mission for the day.

Even then, in leadership roles, I never particularly minded limited amounts of idle chatter or friendly discourse among the officers under my command, but Shimisu always made me nervous that at some point my superior officers would call me into a meeting for something along the lines of my company bringing the SDF into disrepute.

In other words; the meeting that would most likely see the career that I’d wanted since I was a little girl go up in smoke. I’d quickly learned in the academy that maintaining good officer morale is important, but Shimisu really flirted with the boundaries of acceptable behaviour far too much; if left unchecked, there was potential for serious problems to emerge down the line, I thought.

After arriving at our designated disembarking point, we unloaded our equipment from Yuki’s luggage area and immediately surveyed the landscape and trekking path which laid ahead. Thankfully for us, that day’s mission would take place under fairly average weather conditions; stable white cloud cover, little more than a gentle breeze, low chance of rain and a most agreeable 16°C air temperature. Once the other three had secured their equipment, given their weapons a final once-over and their helmets were strapped on, ‘Simple diamond formation, ladies; you know the drill,’ I informed.

Much to my surprise, the three officers simply nodded and silently assumed the formation. Given their behaviour before we set out in the morning, I expected at least one silly comment to spring forth from somewhere among the group; most likely from Shimisu.

Surprise, surprise, not even five minutes into our ascent through the mountainside forest and Mura decided that we should no longer solely listen to the sounds of the chirping birds, buzzing insects, rustling leaves and low-pitched bootsteps. ‘Having to face away from dearest Takeyari and resort to a German weapon if/ when trouble flares up. How are you holding up, Shimisu?’ she teasingly asked. While most of the new stock went to the 1st Division, based in the capital, we did indeed have a supply of the SFP9 M handguns in our inventory at the 3rd Division’s HQ; they were still being evaluated for replacing the Swiss service sidearm that we’d been using for ages and as the 36th Infantry Company often got used as guinea pigs for unproven weapon systems and equipment, the armorers tended to prioritise sending us out with them.

‘If you don’t make the cut when trying out for the Bundeswehr or GSG 9, I’m sure you’ll make a fine developer or consultant, Mura.’

‘Heh; is being disconnected from the captain that bad, Shimisu?’

‘Just focused on the task at hand is all.’

‘Right!’ Mura cheerfully accepted.

In theory, the course of that little conversation should have been brought me some comfort; the most unpredictable officer in the squad behaving sensibly. Instead, the fact that she held such a reserved and mature tone during the exchange caused mild concern. She’ll no doubt be a handful later on, when we split into two teams; I guarantee it…

Thankfully, the first of our two observation points less than a minute after our squad returned to silence. ‘Team Momo will be setting up here, we’ll inform you when we reach our observation point.’

We then had a 250m descent followed by another 150m ascent, to set up on a mountainside roughly one click away. An eerie silence punctuated the journey; not even so much as a peep from Shimisu. One the upside, she showed absolutely no signs of discomfort or displeasure either, so I elected to leave her be and enjoy the most unusual spell of good behaviour from her.

‘Team Momo, be advised; Team Sakura have now reached their observation point.’

‘Understood. All clear here, Captain.’ At this point, I started to wonder just where the mishap would come from; there’s never a day without at least something minor coming from nowhere and throwing a spanner into the works, as it were…

I set down my backpack and prototype modular 5.56 assault rifle and instantly retrieved my telescope and binoculars, before taking up a suitable position on the floor. In that space of time, Shimisu had set down her equipment, retrieved a monocular and extracted her M82A1M from its hefty polymer case.

Without so much as a word, she set down prone, with the long rifle resting on its bipod and rear monopod. After a minute or so of shuffling, she settled down with her eye behind the telescopic sight.

The sun having recently risen, provided us with near-perfect visible; no tinting from the sun and very little risk of any lens glare. The vantage point that myself and Shimisu had set up at afforded us an expansive view of the north east corner of the old capital. Not as spectacular as the mountains and Kamo river, but at least the Katsura river lied on the far south horizon of our view. Admiring the scene last only a moment though, as we had the task of spending the entire day studying a single-storey residential building.

‘I presume you can see those metal barriers lying on the roof?’

‘I can. On their own and laid flat however, they aren’t of interest. If a marksperson or sniper emerges, then yes; they would be. Team Momo, have you sighted any personnel within the target building?’

‘One male and one female, Captain,’ Mura replied.

‘I can see a lone male on the north side, so, there are at least three individuals in there then. Once at least a few of them have left, we’ll send out the quadcopter.’

‘Understood,’ both Miyatake and Mura confirmed.

A lengthy period of quiet ensued and the target building remained unassuming. ‘If they are who we suspect they are, they’re certainly doing a good job of remaining discreet. I want to send the drone to get a closer look, but there’s no way it’ll go undetected with so many of them present inside and those CCTV cameras they’ve installed unless we’re doing irregular fly-bys.’

A brief check of my watch confirmed that the day was still young; little beyond 07:30 – still plenty of time remained for us to determine who the inhabitants of the suspected house were.

Shimisu’s suspicious level of sensibility still unsettled me, so I temporarily cut my microphone and suggested that she do the same by way of hand signal.

‘Ehhh? You wanted to flirt without Team Momo catching wind?’ she mischievously suggested as she returned her right eye to behind the observer lens of her rifle’s scope. And thus, normalcy returned, I internally remarked.

‘You must really enjoy cleaning toilets, First Lieutenant.’

She emitted a slightly pained groan in response to my comment. ‘While things appear to be quiet down there, I want to know what happened to you last autumn. I noticed one mission report which had an awful lot of black lines through it. Curiously, I noticed that you were promoted to Santō rikui less than a couple of weeks after said mission. Would you care to enlighten me on what happened?’

‘Ehh? The famous Hurricane Princess taking an interest in one of her subordinates whilst lying beside her out in nature. Now there’s an interesting premise...’ Fighting back another weary sigh, I confined my response to the safety of my mind. Confirmed by her playful tone, true to form; Nitō rikui Shimisu has returned to being her ever-inappropriate self…

‘Or perhaps I’m concerned that that report is a sign of unfortunate things to come.’

‘It was a uniquely terrible situation. If you’re wondering why I’m so serious today; it’s because we’re a small team. Anything can happen and I’d rather not be returning to HQ and reporting another similar mishap or worse. I’m sorry if my lack of forward behaviour made you nervous, I’ll make up for it on the way home, if you’d like, heh.’

Normally I’d scold her for making the closing remark but she delivered it with a surprisingly serious and sharp edge to her voice while remaining focused on her M7Xi’s observer lens. ‘Good to know that your head is more or less in the right place, Shimisu. So; what exactly happened?’

She released a sigh. ‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you…’

❀

Friday, 22nd September 2017. Little more than a year after having graduated from the academy and starting service as a Jun rikui with the 1st Division, 1st Infantry Regiment, HQ Company.

My first or year or so had been fairly uneventful; regular training, participation in leadership and development programmes along with mandatory research and development in my specialisation; combat nutrition. I’d woken up expecting to head straight to the R&D centre to continue my then-current research project concerning the most cost-effective dieting options for permanent camps. Our nation may be known worldwide for being thoroughly adept at yielding good levels of nutrition from relatively simple and cost-effective dishes, but we’re always looking for improve and the SDF has always been as well.

Anywho, I’m kinda getting off-topic. Almost as soon as I’d left from the living quarters that morning, a strong and harsh voice called out to me, almost causing me to jolt, definitely causing me to freeze awkwardly. ‘Shimisu! Your presence is required in briefing room eight, so I’d like you to follow me there now.’

‘Understood, Ittō rikui,’ I awkwardly spluttered. Mercifully, having memorised the various insignia made itself useful. While my insignia had not a single sakura flower on it, every rank above me did, so while at the academy, I figured learning them was probably a no-brainer really.

The unease that I’d be engulfed in only intensified when I entered the briefing room. Eight guys (nine, if we include the Captain who led me to the room and then stood at the front) and two ladies filled the rows of fold-up seats and from first glance, every single rank indicator had at least one petal sat atop the single horizontal line that featured on all junior and field officers’ insignia. Joy; I’m definitely gonna be the butt of every joke in this squad.

‘First thing’s first; we have Jun rikui Shimisu filling in for Budou as our anti-materiel fire support today, given that he’s fallen ill and is incapable of operating today. She graduated from the last academy class with the highest long-range proficiency scores that they’d seen since, well... The previous year, where there was another unusually proficient woman. Try to go easy on her. Or not; I don’t really care to be honest, so long as we get the job done.’

The board at the front of the room illuminated with a map projection and various blips dotted around it. ‘Today’s mission comes courtesy of a request from the UKs Ministry of Defence and involves intercepting a suspected arms trafficking operation conducted by a squad of alleged rogue Royal Marines. Ideally, they want the targets either captured or neutralised quietly and discreetly. If you’re wondering why they didn’t send the SFG to handle this, well guess what? I’m wondering the same thing.’

The map started to animate; two M82 blips, four M24 blips and six Type-89 blips dotted around a port area. ‘The four Designated Markspersons will be approaching from and stationed on Tsurumi Tsubasa Bridge; two from the west and two from the east. The two anti-materiel units will be stationed either on a rooftop across the waterway or in Chidori park; either way, your observation points are roughly one click away from the target. A four-person ground team will approach once the DMR team have given the go-ahead. Understood?’

‘Understood!’ we all firmly replied. If I were honest; I had many questions, but opportunities like the one which had been sprung on me didn’t come along every day, so I simply rolled with it.

After being dismissed, the captain escorted me to the armoury and handled the inventory process for me. ‘Budou was kind enough to allow you to use his rifle while he’s out of action. He assures me that the scope was last zeroed for roughly nine hundred metres, so you shouldn’t have to make much elevation changes.’ The captain extracted from a locker a tall, black polymer case. He set it down on one of the gunsmith’s benches. ‘Open it up and inspect it.’

Prior to that day, I’d only ever served with the humble Type-89 Assault Rifle and P220/ P9 sidearm, so the light grey rifle that greeted me with its mighty 1.4m length certainly came as a surprise, even though anti-materiel had been previously outlined. Rather than the default Mark 4 scope, the rifle had a 3-27x56 PM II High Power scope mounted to the top rail. I’m not even gonna ask where it came from, though it is suspicious, I immediately thought. Meh, whatever; better visibility of those long-range targets I guess… Naturally, I checked that weapon was clear and tested the trigger for any strange behaviour before disassembling the rifle and neatly returning it to its storage case.

I’ll admit that getting to test out the rifle in person did make me a bit excited, combined with the nature of the operation that I’d been selected to participate in.

We spent most of the day running drills and simulations in preparation, ready for a night-time strike. The theory was that surprising the team with a night assault would provide us the biggest window of opportunity, where the targets were either resting, in transit or perhaps doing something else which would subject them to a delay in adapting to a low visibility engagement.

After nightfall, our twelve-person squad descended on the port. Our teams had surrounded the cramped container and crane-filled site with the bridge running overhead, and the DMR units had positively identified five targets.

Some of the British squad were extremely well concealed, but thanks to the high magnification on the scope, they lingered in both my and the other M82’s sights according to the radio communications. Road blockades had been set up on all exits and the MSDF sat on standby to intercept any RHIB that could have managed to escape the port.

My spotter (Miyabu) and I had set up in Chidori Park, concealed within a bush, looking on at the port from almost perfectly due north.

The captain was two counts away from us taking our synchronished shots and the ground shook; quite violently as well. The ocular end of my rifle’s scope jumped away from me by a few centimetres or so, despite my left hand firmly wrapping around and gripping the lower platform element of the M82’s rear stock.

In the same instant, I heard a low, domineering rumbling; almost like thunder.

I had no time to question it however; the loud cracks and knocks of supersonic ammunition being flung about the port forced me to set my eye firmly back in place behind my rifle’s scope.

Without hesitation, I steadied my rifle once more and edged the trigger rearward, my finger spending maybe only a couple of seconds at the pressure wall before pushing further and sending the first of a pair of M8 API bullets hurtling toward the container with a rifle barrel barely jutting out from it.

I watched the protrusion jolt sharply and subsequently fall down following the second impact. ‘Tango Five neutralised.’

I expected to hear confirmations on the radio from the rest of the team, but received nothing more than an eerie silence.

‘At your two o’clock there’s another sniper, Shimisu; range 1024 metres, wind .4 m/s, bearing 200,’ Miyabu calmly advised from beside me.

I carefully shuffled slightly and rotated the rifle about on its bipod until I had a clear sight. As beads of sweat rolled down my back and my breathing threatened to inconveniently increase in pace, the port had largely fallen quiet. By that point, I suspected any further movement would probably focus any remaining enemy sniper attention onto my position, so I dared not to reach forward and adjust the elevation or windage turrets on the scope.

Accounting for the roughly two hundred metre difference in target distance, I very slowly and carefully lined up the second of my targets, aimed slightly higher than the previous target. Again, I stared at a small cylindrical protrusion from a slightly ajar container front.

Amid the unnerving silence, another pair of 50 BMG bullets rushed forth into the port. Similar to the first target, I witnessed erratic movement and the enemy suppressor come to a standstill at a haphazard angle.

‘Fuck,’ Miyabu whimpered, along with a pained hissing.

I heard a shot in between the pair that I sent and subdued groans combined with what I glimpsed from a sidelong glance confirmed my suspicions. The right shoulder strap of her vest had been torn and a crimson pool expanded from a spot underneath it. ‘How bad is it?’ I carefully quizzed.

‘Not great. About three centimetres down. At least it’s only a shoulder impact and I can still move it.’

‘As much as I hate to say it; you’re gonna have to try to keep the wound pressurised and bear it until I can get a read on that last hostile sniper. You move; they most probably finish you off. I move; I get terminated and you probably get the same treatment soon after. Right now, the only way we get out of this alive is by waiting for the enemy to make a move and then countering. At least then, I might be able to carry you outta here over my shoulders without having to worry about getting picked off by one of Britain’s finest.’

‘Understood,’ she conceded, with despair heavily evident in her tone. ‘Pretty funny to be taking direction from a Jun rikui, but hell; if we make it out of here alive, I’ll happily recommend they give you a promotion.’

The scene around the port fell silent, save for the reduced car, van and truck engine, exhaust noises and boat horn sounds that came from the bridge and the waterways surrounding the then-current battlefield. Judging by the wild ground oscillation that I’d felt, the almighty rumble and the reduced traffic noise that followed, I could only imagine at the time that another earthquake had struck and the former Royal Marines clearly had their wits about them, reacting instantly and picking off almost the entirety of our team in the brief window of opportunity that we believed we’d created.

I tried repeatedly to contact the DMR team and the ground team multiple times only to receive silence in my headset in response to my attempts.

Knowing that the operation was taking place in a location very much in the public eye and the severe international implications in play, as I lied there in the bush concealment in the park, I mulled over the fact that any visible support was most likely not coming my way.

I dared not to move; judging from tear angle on Miyabu’s vest, she’d been shot from an almost straight angle. Given that I’d already terminated one sniper at roughly bearing 150 and one at bearing 240 it would make sense that another would be lying somewhere around bearing 180.

So’s not to bore you, I’ll fast forward a bit; unable to determine both the location and the status of the last enemy sniper, I remained fixed in place for two more days and nights.

Keeping myself awake and perfectly still while the NVGs did their best to blind me during the daylight hours was a relative walk in the park; consoling the superior ranking officer beside me and convincing her to do the same was the real challenge, given that the injury she’d sustained grew ever-more life-threatening the longer it remained untreated.

Mercifully, an SDF UH-1J passed overhead and then conducted what I presumed was an improvised reconnaissance mission. The bird reduced its altitude like a curious robin until the snaps of a suppressed rifle forced it to hastily retreat.

At least, that was until the thunder of a pair of merciless M8 50 BMG rounds announced the end of the engagement aspect of the mission. As I’d theorised, concealed in another almost fully closed container which was partly obscured by the branches and leaves of a tall tree, making it much harder for me to see them than vice-versa, the last of the former Royal Marines had stationed themselves and made impressive provisions for a lengthy sniper duel.

Not wanting to waste any time, I surveyed the container using the 27x magnification without delay and found a similarly waywardly pointed rifle fore-end.

I hurriedly scrambled to apply some bandages to Miyabu’s shoulder before slinging her over my shoulder and hauling her out to an open area of the park where, amid the early morning darkness, I shot up a flare.

Mercifully, when it landed in the open expanse of the park, I found that the UH-1J actually belonged to the 1st Aviation Squadron. After explaining the basic operation information, they immediately hauled Miyabu to the nearest medical centre.

Unfortunately, the remainder of the team had no such positive fortunate. I toured the bridge and found no evidence of the team having ever been there; recovered by a Special Assault Team or Anti—Firearms team following a civilian report I’d guessed.

When I inspected the port, along with the backup team which eventually arrived I was almost glad that my stomach was empty; the fact greatly reduced the risk of throwing up in repulsion to the sights.

The other ten squad members had been terminated; single or double bullet wounds to the face.

The six former Royal Marines suffered a similar fate, though the three which were found in almost-closed containers had larger injuries, in different areas as well.

We recovered an ungodly weapon haul; twenty SC-86 Thunderbolt bolt-action rifles, (six of which were in use), forty 419mm barrel 416A5 assault rifles, twenty SL9SD rifles, twenty SFP9 M handguns, twenty USP 45 tactical handguns, twenty RGP 40 grenade launchers, ten RPG-7 launchers and an unnerving amount of suppressors, MRD sights, riflescopes, rail attachments and ammunition for all of it. All in all, that particular stockpile probably ran not far from a million pounds sterling worth of equipment.

We’d already had two earthquakes earlier that year; the most recent only a couple of weeks prior, albeit on the northern island. When writing my report, I’d looked into the earthquake and found that it originated in the nearby bay; two kilometres away and roughly twelve kilometres deep, measuring 5.8Mw on the moment magnitude scale. I didn’t fully understand what allowed me to maintain optimum sharpness and physical strength for fifty-two hours, so I kept the details concerning that very light, pointing only to fuelling myself well enough to cope with reduced metabolism over an extended period, which was the truth, I swear.

After submitting my report, I visited Miyabu in the Division’s medical centre. Aside from having her right braced and heavily wrapped, she seemed fine. Despite what happened in that port, she flashed a brief smile in my direction when I appeared. ‘The force of nature herself; good to see you haven’t been harrowed by what happened. Not that it’ll change anything but I hope they promote you off the back of what happened there; I’d happily follow you into an operation, especially considering that you’re now probably keenly aware that absolutely anything can happen out there. There’s no doubt something special about you, Shimisu; they’d be silly not to at least consider it.’

‘Miyabu, please; you’ll make me blush the colour of my given name if you keep that up. I’m glad that I wasn’t the only one to emerge from that port; you’re probably the difference between me falling apart and blaming myself and my still being able to move forward. That said, I hope you recover quickly.’

Her voice softened considerably, which caught me surprise a bit. ‘That makes two of us, Shimisu; I look forward to getting back out there with you.’ Not wanting to read too much in any potentially troublesome direction, I simply returned her warm smile before parting.

Two weeks later and I found myself receiving a medal for bravery, a respective pin and somewhat surprisingly; a new insignia set; a single sakura flower above the horizontal bar – I’d been promoted to Santō rikui rank.

❀

Saying that the tale gave me a lot to think about would have definitely been quite the understatement. Nothing seemed off in her psychiatric evaluations, but considering the story that she had just told me, I couldn’t help but be a least a little bit concerned. ‘You certainly are a magnet for bizarre circumstances, Shimisu,’ I bluntly offered in the silence that followed her storytelling.

My lips subsequently parted, ready to ask a question.

‘If you’re wondering exactly how I managed to negotiate that fifty–two-hour period, well, I can assure you that the report was the honest truth. Whether or not I intentionally worded a passage or two to conveniently hide a deeper meaning however, that’s anybody’s guess, heh,’ she mischievously remarked.

‘What exactly are you cryptically suggesting, Nitō rikui?’

‘Maybe you and I are more alike than you’re willing to admit, Ittō rikui. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours, hehe.’

Well, congratulations on earning yourself another stint with the maintenance team, Shimisu.

‘Your ability to understand the air and its motion is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I did try looking around to see if there’s anybody else who could come close to such an ability and concluded that there isn’t. What? Did you think I was gracing you with pillow talk?’

As much as I hate to admit it, though there was no visible evidence of it, she had successfully baited me. Under the guise of maintaining focus on the target house however, I remained silent.

‘I can almost hear the cogs whirring, so we can leave that topic alone and switch to something lighter; if you were being reassigned to an anti-materiel role and had a free choice over what to request as your primary service weapon, what would it be?’

With little by way of delay, I calmly replied, ‘A DSR-50.’

‘Bruh.’

Not that I let it show, obviously, but I’ll not lie; hearing her playful frustration in that moment was quite delightful. ‘What’s wrong with the DSR-50?’

‘Nothing at all, it’s just Mura and her love of German weapons. I’m almost certain that if I took a photo of those 416A5s, USP45 Ts and SL9SDs in the port and gave it to her, it’d make her at least a bit wet.’

‘And almost certainly prompt a wet dream or two as well.’

‘Huh???’ The indignant glare that Shimisu fired my way was priceless. I did indeed subtly put the mic back on partway through her previous statement, where Mura could hear exactly what the increasingly-frustrated Nitō rikui thought. ‘Ugh; finally – the targets are leaving the premises. Now we can really get this show on the road.’

❀

Consistent with the reports that we had been provided beforehand, we found evidence of communications in Mandarin, RF-dampening measures and (when Miyatake was eventually able to dispatch a drone and deliver a prototype micro surveillance bug) a respectable arsenal of GSh-18 handguns and PP-2000 machine pistols.

Roughly a week later, we raided the same residential address and much to my pleasure, we apprehended the inhabitants without the need to fire a single shot. For all the time that we spend practising with firearms, I prefer the operations where their use is kept to a minimum if it can be helped.

While the story that Shimisu told me during the first reconnaissance day did buy her some sympathy, I still concluded that four weeks’ worth of assisting the maintenance team of the 3rd Division’s HQ would be a sufficient measure to help reign in her improper behaviour and severely limit the amount of time that she had available to accost me while not busy with service duties.

I would never admit it at the time, but that story she told did strike a particular sensitive area of me. While she refused to divulge a secret that had been gnawing at my conscience and curiosity for a while, her words made me suspicious, excited and slightly reassured at the same time. Her potential in my mind started to blur and morph into our potential in my mind; an attraction and dangerous train of thought that despite the risk involved was evidently an increasingly-tantalising prospect and probably not just for the purpose of advancing my career...