STRIKE WITCHES - MISSION: MIDNIGHT

By CXVAnime

Jet black waves break violently against the jagged cliffs which surround the colossal gothic castle which the 501st Joint Fighter Wing calls its home. It’s a typical night above the Britannian coast; dark and overcast. It's not raining but the air is still moist enough to soak anyone caught outside. 

        Unfortunately for Sanya, a young night witch from the Orussian Empire, patrolling these chilling skies is her nightly job. The entire fighter wing relies on her skills and dedication every night in order to sleep sound and without worry of enemy incursion. Tonight was another event-less journey, no Neuroi, nothing exciting, just the icy winds and pale moonlight. 

        The petite witch descends through a layer of thick clouds as the engines of her striker unit buzz softly. Sanya can’t help but feel an air of apprehension about landing back on solid ground tonight. Her mind races and wanders and she’s incredibly nervous as she tries not to look directly at the approaching fortress. Something has been on the young girl’s mind all evening, stealing her attention to the point that she cares not for the heavy weight of her fligerhammer nor her drenched clothes. She has problems far greater to worry about. 

        Softly she lands on the huge runway which juts out into the Channel and, more slowly than usual, taxis her unit into the darkened hangar. With a mechanical thud Sanya latches her strikers into the only empty docking station at the rear of the cavernous facility. As she stows her weapon away several night workers jog over to her carrying towels and tools, ready to service and check her unit before the next outing tomorrow. 

        Sanya gently slips her long and slender legs from the black fuselage, stretching her now-free toes daintily as she does so.  Her familiar disappears and one of the hangar crew quietly hands her a soft towel which she uses to barely dry her silver hair and pat down the rest of her soaked uniform. When finished; Sanya hands the dampened towel back to the crewman with a quick, warm and wordless smile before slowly making her way silently from the hangar.

        The castle is huge yet only a small part of it is actually used routinely by the witches of the 501st. Sanya trudges slowly through the vast halls of the female-only building, a mansion-like extension from the main castle keep and hangar area. Her small frame is silhouetted in darkness as she passes between the giant windows which flood sections of the floor with bright moonlight. In the early days her maintenance crew had offered to assist her back to her room; however Commander Minna forbade any men from entering this section so now Sanya has to stumble on alone. 

        There has to be hundreds of rooms in the base, miles of winding corridors and stairwells. Most of it looks the same and getting lost was something every member of the wing had experienced at some point. Tonight however, Sanya knows exactly where she is heading, taking a left up a set of stairs, rather than right towards her own bedroom. As she walks her knees shake and shiver and her feet press coldly against the hardwood floor until she eventually comes to a stop in front of one of the many doors which line the long, dark hall.

        This is the room of the Karlsland fighter ace Erica Hartmann, one of the few people other than her best friend Eila that Sanya can confide in. The nervous girl stands watching the heavy door for a few moments, contemplating whether or not she should go inside and disturb Erica with her problems. As she tries to calm herself down the silence of the night becomes overwhelming. Until, like a quiet voice whispering out; she hears the distant clicking of an ornate grandfather clock further up the hallway. Indeed time is running out if she is to fix what is worrying her so greatly. Making her decision she reaches for the cold brass handle and opens it with a quiet click.

        The room before her is a void of blackness and a strange, musky smell hits her nostrils like an explosion. It’s the smell of sweat, oil, dirty clothes and old food. Taking a cautious step inside, Sanya tries to slowly make her way through the darkness in order to let her eyes adjust; she doesn’t want to awaken Erica by turning on the lights and blinding the poor girl after all. 

        By the time the door has closed behind her, and before Sanya has made it even a few feet into the dorm, she suddenly trips over something hidden in the darkness. With a thunderous crash she slams to the floor, knocking over a pile of junk and assorted knick knacks. As she lies nursing the arm she landed on she hears a dim, groggy voice come from below a pile of clothing in front of her.

        “Ugh. Strum.” Erica says, waving her arm out of the mound and sending a tiny blast of air at the light switch by the door. The lights flick on revealing a total mess of a room. Clothes are strewn everywhere, boxes and crates containing who knows what litter the four corners of the living space and every here and there lay empty bottles, sweet wrappers and old plates.

        Erica groans as she rises like a zombie from her buried resting spot, huge wads of shirts and pants falling from atop her as if she were crawling from an earthen grave. The young Karlslander looks about in confused bewilderment, searching for whatever just woke her up. She soon spots Sanya lying with wet, teary eyes on her garbage coated floor. 

        “Sanya? Oh no, are you ok!?” Erica asks in a concerned manner, unusually serious sounding for the notoriously care free ace. She clambers out of her bizarre sleeping spot and crawls past the small, trash filled table which Sanya had knocked over, throwing bottles and books across the disaster area of a bedroom. “Are you hurt? Do you need me to go get the nurse?”

        “No, I think I’m ok, thank you Hartmann. I wasn’t expecting to fall over is all.” Sanya says with an exacerbated gasp, rubbing her sore arm as she sits up straight. 

        “Did you get the wrong room again?” Erica asks with a friendly smile as she reaches over and rubs Sanyas shoulder gently to sooth the pained night witch. “Looking for Eila’s no doubt?” This accusation brings a great shyness over the Orussian who looks away knowingly from her comrade. On any normal night Erica would be correct, however tonight is no normal night. 

        “Hartmann, I need to talk to you.” Sanya says quietly. 

        “What’s wrong?” Erica replies, picking up on Sanya’s unusual aura of sadness and worry. “Something’s bothering you?”

        “Today is Eila’s birthday…” Sanya whispers as she twirls her finger through a lock of her shining hair distractingly. 

        “Yeah, it is. Is that a problem? I'm confused.” Erica admits.

        “It’s just… I’ve been so busy with night patrols recently that I haven’t been able to go out and get her anything. I… I’m worried she’ll think I forgot about her.” Sanya explains gently. “This will be the first time I’ve never gotten her a present.”

        “Hmmm. That is a puzzle.” Erica hums as she stands up, stretching her back and stroking her chin in deep, tactical thought. As Erica continues to ponder however, Sanya suddenly realises that her Karlslander comrade is in fact; not wearing anything at all below the waist. Sanya can't help but hide her face in shame and shocked embarrassment, her normally snow white cheeks turning a blazing flush red. 

        “Hartmann… P-Please put on some… Uhhh.” She squeaks out a barely audible plea. The Karlslander merely looks confused.

        “Huh? Never mind that, we're both girls here so it’s no big deal. Now what are we going to do about Eila?”  

        “Just put on some pants, Hartmann!” Sanya demands loudly, cutting off Erica’s sentence before she can finish. With a huff Erica begins rummaging through a nearby pile of laundry for a clean pair of underwear, blissfully carefree as Sanya averts her eyes from Erica’s smooth, bald womanhood. Eventually the sharp elastic snap of a waistband alerts the Orussian that Erica is at least somewhat modestly dressed now and Sanya sighs in relief as she slumps back against one of the many mountains of detritus behind her.

        “How on Earth do you sleep in this mess?” Sanya asks with concern. 

        “I guess I just don’t notice how much of a mess it really gets.” Erica chuckles as she scans her eyes around the dumpsite that she calls home scratching her ear nervously. “Anyway; back to Eila. Are you really that worried that she’ll be upset you didn’t get her anything? I’m sure she’d understand you’ve been busy. We all know the RAF’s been low on night fighters for a while, you’re the only one they could rely on.” Erica continues, getting the conversation back on track as she sits down on her almost invisible, trash covered bed, the box springs squeaking as she does so. 

        “I don’t want her to be disappointed” Sanya says meekly. “What do you think I should do Hartmann?”

        “Well if you really want my advice I’d say go to her room, crawl into her bed, hold her tightly and tell her how much you love her, that’ll do it!” Erica says proudly, a huge toothy grin plastered across her face. Sanya however is much less pleased with this answer.

        “Stop messing around, I’m being serious!” She cries.

        “So am I.'' Replies Erica; now much sterner than moments before. “You aren’t going to get all embarrassed now because I used the love word are you? C’mon Sanya we all see it. You need to tell her, before it’s too late.”

        Silence falls over the room once more as Sanya sits in quiet contemplation. She truly does want to tell Eila all her deepest feelings, and likewise she’s sure Eila feels the same about her. But they are soldiers, they have a duty to perform, and if they were to confess to one another and something tragic were to happen; Sanya isn’t sure she would be able to handle that. She’s already lost so much.

        “You have this time, here and now, to tell Eila the truth. Minna might see things differently; but she’s wrong. Whatever you’re afraid of is not worth worrying about. You aren’t afraid Eila will be disappointed because you didn’t get her a present, that’s just silly. If you want my opinion, you giving her a gift is basically you confessing to her, and by not doing that you think you’re not showing your love. You’re disappointed in yourself, Sanya, but you don’t need to be.” Erica explains with a calm, friendly and bizarrely wise tone for someone so notoriously childish as her. Sanya can only sit in a stunned silence at this verbal onslaught. She never would have thought Erica of all people could be so moving.

     “Young love, and between two witches as well. Ahh it’s a beautiful thing isn’t it?” Erica chirps with a smile, clasping her hands together tightly. There’s the childishness Sanya expected. Thankfully this gesture acts quickly to lighten the sombre mood which had been growing within the bedroom-trash pile. Both girls look at one another playfully and give quiet chuckles as they realise they’ve become far too serious, especially for this early in the morning.

     “Thank you Hartmann. I don’t know exactly when, but I will tell her. I promise.” Sanya smiles as she slowly gets up off the floor preparing to get on her way. As she does so however her arm brushes against the mound of junk to her rear and she knocks down a small tower of pots and tins. Desperate not to cause such a racket and awaken the whole base; both she and Erica leap into action and attempt to catch as much of the avalanche as possible. They mostly succeed; stopping most of the collapse from hitting the ground where only a handful of small cans and old sardine tins clang across the floor. The girls breathe a sigh of relief as they gently place their arms full of trash down on Erica's bed.

     “That was a close one.” Sanya remarks with a cheeky grin.

     “Maybe I do need to do some tidying up after all.” Erica quips as she holds a round empty tin of Gallian biscuits Perrine had “misplaced” several months ago. Suddenly, looking down at the long exhausted container a light bulb goes off in the small Karlslanders head. “You know Sanya, I've just had an idea. A wise old chef in Düsseldorf once told me while I was stationed there that ‘the fastest way to a woman’s heart is through her belly’. I know we just cleared up the whole present thing; but if you still want to do something special for Eila’s big day, well… we might just have enough time.” Erica says with a look of pride and determination, as if she’s just formulated some amazing battle plan and is so sure of victory. Sanya however is far more confused.

        “The coast is clear” Erica whispers slyly back to Sanya as she pokes her head through the door into the base's large dining hall. Across the darkened room she can just about make out the communal kitchen which is their destination. Steel and brass pots and pans sit neatly on shelves and hang from the blue tiled walls, catching the odd slither of moonlight as it passes through the windows. There is a slight echo as the pair quietly makes their way across the hall, the floorboards gently creaking, outside the sound of the wind and distant splashing waves a constant melody.

    “Are you sure about this Hartmann? I don’t want us to get in trouble.” Sanya asks softly as they both reach the counter-top island.

     “It’ll be fine. We had a huge shipment of supplies arrive yesterday after all. We have three hours before the others start to wake up so let's get started.” Erica replies.

     “It does sound fun.” Sanya admits with a smile. “But we won’t be able to make anything too large in that time. We have to think small.” She continues.

     “This is your gift to Eila, so what do you think we can bake?” Erica wonders as she pulls down a shining baking tray from the wall. It takes a moment for Sanya to wrack her brain for an answer, however she soon springs to life as she realises the perfect little treat they can make together.

     “Lusikkaleiat!” Sanya yelps with excitement. “Uhhh… Spoon biscuits I guess you could call them. They’re small cookies eaten in Soumous; I tried them last time I was in Petersburg.” Sanya says; realising Erica likely doesn’t know what they are.

     “Sounds perfect, and tasty!” Erica beams, reaching to preheat the oven. “Do you know how to make them?”

     “I do, Eila showed me before, they’re really simple. Let’s see… Butter, we need butter and flour to start with.” Sanya replies with a growing giddish joy as she slips a white apron over her head and ties it on. 

        Before long the once quiet kitchen awakens with the sound of clattering pots and fragile china. Erica retrieves a small porcelain container from one of the many cabinets containing several sticks of unsalted ration butter. The 501st being one of the most important fighting forces against the Neuroi often received better quality or harder to come by material than normal military units. This butter is no different and the rich, smooth bars slide gently into the pan with which Erica begins to slowly melt them down.

     An intoxicatingly sweet smell primates the kitchen as the butter bubbles and sizzles. Meanwhile Sanya carefully measures out cups of flour, sugar and baking soda, white clouds of dust puffing into the air as she does so, before falling back down onto the worktops, bringing back old memories of a winter’s snowfall in her distant homeland. It’s just as cathartic as it is exciting. This isn’t something the young girl would normally do, and if they get caught they would both surely be confined to quarters. Still; she’s sure Eila will enjoy her birthday surprise.

     After several minutes, Erica’s butter has turned a gorgeous golden brown and it gives off an ever-so slight nutty aroma. There is no time to waste however as the butter could burn quickly. With caution, Erica pours the liquid into a large glass bowel to which Sanya adds a cup of sugar and a pinch of vanilla extract. Now for the fun part – Mixing the batter is a messy and somewhat exhausting job, especially for the already and notoriously always-tired Sanya. Seeing the paste form, smelling the sweet scent given off makes the girls want to eat their creation already. There is still much to do before that can happen however.

    “What are we going to put on top of the biscuits Hartmann?” Sanya asks with a smile as she stirs, getting the odd splodge of mix onto her apron.

     “We have a few jams in the pantry.” Erica answers. “Raspberry, blackberry, there’s some orange marmalade. What’s Eilas favourite one?”

     “Eila really likes strawberries.” Sanya says, somewhat surprising Erica who never would have guessed that. Then again, Eila doesn’t tend to talk about herself much with anyone other than Sanya.

        “Well we don’t have any strawberry jam here but I think we could make some.” Erica says, looking devilishly devious. “I’m almost certain Perrine has a small patch of strawberries in her little garden plot behind the motor pool. She won't notice a few missing berries!” she continues gleefully. 

     “Are you sure she won't get mad?” Sanya worries.

     “Well she never has before.” The young Karlslander admits, turning her head away in mock denial, drawing mild concern from her silver-haired friend.

        “Hartmann…” Sanya sighs a knowing moan before the pair venture out into the night.

     The sky has brightened a lot since Sanya landed back at base, dark clouds silhouette like oil slicks against a dull blue backdrop. The air is still heavy with a damp mist and a steady wind rustles the nearby trees and crashes waves against the rocky shore. It’s only a short distance to Perrine’s perfect allotment nestled behind a large brick hangar. The two witches move quickly so as to not be seen by any maintenance men or; heaven forbid, Captain Sakamoto who is probably already out training somewhere on base. Soon enough they both reach their destination, a tiny plot of well kept land with a small handmade sign stuck into the ground reading “trespassers will be zapped!” Maybe their Gallian comrade has indeed noticed Erica’s occasional pickings. Regardless, the girls ready themselves quietly for their fruity heist.

     With slow, careful movements Erica steps into the patch, manoeuvring her feet gently over beautifully maintained roses, marigolds and chrysanthemums, cautious to not crush any and give their game away. After a few moments, Erica comes upon their prize; a small patch of juicy looking strawberries. They glow a brilliant red, slightly wet from the morning's mist with beads of water shining upon them like expensive pearls. Quickly, Erica plucks several berries, perhaps taking more than she should and placing them in a wicker basket Sanya had brought along before hopping her way back out of the garden.

     “That wasn’t so bad.” Sanya whispers, drawing an exaggerated, playful shush from Erica as she cheekily pops a berry into her mouth. 

     Returning to the kitchen it’s time to form the sweet cookies themselves. As Erica gets to work making the jam; Sanya begins using a silver teaspoon to scoop up small mounds of mixture before using her palm to squash the biscuits into neat, rounded mounds. In total Sanya makes at least thirty cookies which she places carefully down on a warm heated baking tray. The metal of the tray clangs loudly as she places it into the large oven despite her best efforts to stay quiet. By now Erica is soon to finish up her own task, leaving only the decoration to be done.

     It takes around ten minutes in the oven for the spoon cookies to bake, sending out a wonderfully sweet smell. By now tiredness has begun to overtake the small Orussian girl. The fatigue of her long night patrol is at long last catching up to her as the excitement calms down. Sanya can't help but give out a deep, exhausted yawn as she tries to clean down her work station, stumbling backwards slightly only to be caught by Erica.

     “Hey now, don’t go falling asleep yet. We’re almost done.” Erica jokes.

     “Sorry Hartmann… My eyes are just… Can’t stay…open…” Sanya says softly as she passes out in Erica’s arms.

        “Sanya? Hey Sanya!? You can’t leave me to clean all this up!” Erica moans. “How does Eila deal with this? At least I’ll get some nice cookies out if it.” She admits as she picks up her sleeping friend to put her to bed.

     Beams of daylight break through the cracks in the heavy curtains which cover the windows of Eilas bedroom. Gently the Soumous witch stirs awake as she feels a comfortable warmth radiating across her back and a strange, unusual smell filling her room. As she opens her eyes slowly she notices a plate covered with a glass dome resting on her nightstand which wasn’t there when she went to sleep. Next to it sits a bottle of Jaffa soda and a small vase flush with freshly picked red roses.

     Eila tries to sit up, however she finds her body weighed down by the slender arm of Sanya, fast asleep lying across her side. She can’t help but find this a sight even more beautiful than the display of flowers. The way Sanya breathes softly, the way her silver hair falls over her face, it’s something Eila cherishes every morning. Sure Sanya has her own room; sure they pretend that she mistakenly falls asleep in the wrong one, but truly Eila loves the way her little partner from Orussia clings to her. If only she could find the courage to tell her how she really feels.

     Turning her attention back to the mysterious assortment by her bed, Eila notices the sweet smell of baked goods and spies the handcrafted spoon cookies piled neatly under the dome. She doesn’t know that there are less cookies than what Sanya actually made, but what she doesn’t find out won't hurt Erica.

        “Lusikkaleivat cookies?” Eila ponders out loud. As she takes a closer look she again notices something new. A small note sits below the bottle of soda which Eila takes slowly, a note which simply reads “Happy Birthday!”

     A soft but ever so loving smile grows across Eila’s face, almost bringing tears to her big blue eyes. Sanya shifts gently next to her, rustling the bed sheets to stave off the morning cold as Eila rubs a soothing hand through her best friend’s silky smooth hair. Leaning down slowly, with great caution and precision, her cheeks turning red and her hands beginning to tremble; Eila places a light, but ever so passionate kiss on Sanyas forehead.

     “Thank you Sanya. I really do… I love you so much.” Eila whispers softly. Despite being unconscious Eilas words certainly land; as a huge, warm, extremely loving smile grows across Sanya’s pale white face.

     Despite the haste with which they were made Eila would later find that the present Sanya and Erica had made for her were very tasty indeed. Despite her best efforts, Erica’s nature as a slob meant that she left the kitchen in quite a state after she returned Sanya to her lover’s room, and she was forced to clean up the mess by a very angry Gertrud. Perrine did; in fact, notice the missing berries (and flowers) and likewise gave Hartmann a stern dressing down as the fabled strawberry thief was revealed at last. For Erica however this was water under the bridge, she was more than happy to see Sanya and Eila closer than ever before. She was moved by the pair’s strong loving bond, and satisfied with a handful of cookies baked very well indeed.

THE END