= =
"Fine, fine. ...Goddamn Neuroi."

Enishi grumbled darkly underneath her breath as she watched Ronnaug make short work of the Neuroi scout, the girl muttering curses that someone her age had no business saying - or even hearing - as she attempted to pull herself up to her feet. Fine time for it to appear, just as Ronnaug had fallen for one of her best lines ever! After all the time she'd spent in bed thinking about a decent one that even the horribly-skeptical Britannian would believe! And she was just about to pull it down, too...!

Gritting her teeth in frustration, she used the oversized M21 - Enishi WAS short enough for the rifle to dwarf her easily - to prop herself up into a standing position, feeling the combined weight of all her gear take its toll on her slight, frail frame. With a small grunt of effort, the Fusojin sniper manages - just manages - to pull herself back onto a vertical base, her knees shaking slightly as she lifted the sling of her rifle back onto her shoulder, before flashing her partner a thumbs up signal. The calm, smiling expression slid easily back on her face, curling her lips.

...No, everything was not okay, but she was trying to make it look like it was. Even if she still felt ripped off from her rightful prize. For her Ron-tan, of course.

It was no surprise to everyone - including herself - that Enishi was something of a liability, at least in missions where you had to cover a lot of ground on foot. Physically-demanding missions. [i]Suppa[/i] training was harsh, yes, and while it did teach Enishi quite a few handy tricks that could be applied to espionage - as well as developed her unnatural talent for marksmanship - it only served to exacerbate the girl's frail, sickly nature since birth. It wasn't that she was born with some sort of crippling disease, it was just that she was very susceptible to catching bugs, or whatever ailment was going around at the time. Ronnaug even had to fly her to a hospital, in mid-mission, due to the girl suddenly catching malaria from one single insect bite. A mosquito bite that happened minutes before.

The doctors chalked it up to a poor immune system that had already been battered in her training as a suppa - where trainees were regularly exposed to deadly toxins and vapors to develop immunity and resistance - as well as the rigorous sparring matches where broken bones, torn muscles and even stab wounds were the norm. Enishi was quick, she could shoot a thousand rounds and hit a thousand targets, she could easily hide in plain sight and get close enough in a dogfight to slit someone's throat with a knife - but she was physically and constitutionally weak, sickly, and a general liability when puse came to shove. It was a fact that other Strike Witches did not hesitate on letting her know as well as ridicule her for it. A fact that made her the complete opposite of her partner, and one that other Strike Witches had no problem reminding her about.

Her smile grew wide as a memory rose unbidden in her mind: Ronnaug, punching out a particularly-snarky recruit that was easily as tall as her, just because she decided to show everyone how weak the Captain was by almost breaking her wrist in a grappling hold.

But she did try to...fix herself, of course. The right diet - no more late-night ice cream binges, with her asking Ronnaug playfully if they could share a cone just like how they do in AVs - as well as the right exercise regimen that the Britannian herself had tasked herself to wake Enishi up every morning for, had given her progress in terms of being able to do physically-demanding things. One of them being the ability to carry - and shoot with - all but the heaviest of rifles, including her M21 that weighed enough for it to be able to shatter concrete if swung like a club. Any heavier than that and you'd have to use a stand, and this helped propel her from washout candidate to her division's best sniper. She could even wield it one-handed if she so chose, whether on foot or in the sky. She was still a weakling, there was no contention about that. But at least she was working on it.

And it was all thanks to Ron-tan.

...She didn't exactly know if it was infatuation or genuine attraction, honestly. She also couldn't pinpoint just where she began thinking about the stoic silver-haired girl as someone besides a friend - besides a competent wingman and spotter. She also didn't know just what drove her to focus her attentions on the girl - attentions that drove everyone else crazy, or fearful for their dignities - and how, one night, while waiting for extraction, she had leaned in close to a dozing Ronnaug and whispered to her ear that she loved her. But there it was, and everyday was a risk of getting court-martialed because she wore her black lacy panties for the Britannian.

Reaching down with a gloved hand, Enishi undid the safety of her M21 with a heavy metallic click, just as she began to jog after Ronnaug - the Britannian setting the pace for the hump as point, both of them settling into the bouncing, jouncing stride that one could theoretically do for hours without tiring. Now that they've possibly alerted the Neuroi nest - although if they had, the sky would've been COVERED with Neuroi by then - getting to the designated sniping area in double time was crucial. At this pace, the grasslands soon gave way to cement as they reached the abandoned city of Pripyat itself - the top booths of the all-too-famous Pripyat Ferris Wheel peeking from above the high-rise apartment buildings made for the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant employees.


By this time, however, Enishi was out of breath, and she sank to her knees, clutching at her chest through her fatigues.

"L-Let me catch my breath first, Ron-tan," she gasped out, sweat trickling down her cheek. Those panties would've come in handy right now, she didn't say. "Sniping point's...in that building, so I think we can take it easy for now. We're...haaah...ahead of schedule, anyway."