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All things considered, the floor isn’t that uncomfortable.
That was the first thing Warren Grantz thought when he settled down for the night earlier that evening.
It’s a statement that requires some heavy caveats to function truthfully. ‘All things considered,’ does quite a bit of heavy lifting in that sentence. Sure, it’s nothing like his bed at home, but still, these are great sleeping conditions if he thinks about it.
Consider that his usual sleeping conditions are as follows: On the ground in a trench, out in the open, surrounded by mud and dead things, trench rats, and all other manner of unpleasant stuff. Occasionally, he’s given better treatment as a mage officer, but those times are few and far between. He’s learned to be happy to receive a blanket when it’s possible.
If you compare his current accommodations with that, there’s no contest. Sure he’s on the floor, but there’s no mud, rats, or corpses to be found. He’s got a blanket, a pillow, and even a mat for him to sleep on. But, more important than all of those, is the fact that this is a safe location where he’s unlikely to be woken up with the news they’re being shot at and his unit needs to intercept. That’s basically the height of luxury, isn’t it?
So, what happens to be the occasion for this amazing treatment he’s receiving?
He and several other members of the elite 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion have successfully completed Operation Shock and Awe, and now they’re aboard a submarine set to return them home in comfort from an incredibly dangerous long-distance mission.
…Though, admittedly, it’s a submarine with limited space and limited bunks, which is why he’s on the ground. Not that he’s griping about it, of course! He volunteered of his own free will.
To him it doesn’t matter that everyone here is a soldier, Grantz was raised better than to allow one of the girls to sleep on the floor, so of course he volunteered himself.
Yes, Koenig did laugh at him for trying to be chivalrous, but that ended with Koenig also relegated to the floor, so, in the end, that guy got what he deserved, didn’t he?
So, that’s the reason for these almost perfect conditions. Yes, he says ‘almost’ because there is one problem. One thing that just can’t be tolerated.
An invasion of his personal space while he’s sleeping.
When he wakes up in the middle of the night, he finds himself feeling warmer than he should. It’s strange. Just because he actually has a blanket, that doesn't mean it’s a good one, so he has to wonder why he’s so warm. The answer is that there is someone tucked into his side that was absolutely not there when he fell asleep.
As he mentioned, Koenig is also on the floor with him, but he settled down farther away, and also the figure curled into his side is far too small to be someone as tall as that guy. In fact, instead of being the tallest person of their group, it is the shortest.
It’s the battalion commander, Magic Major Tanya von Degurechaff.
So, as you might imagine, it’s the worst case scenario.
If he were just a slight bit more delusional, he’d probably be thinking to himself that this was a blessing. For the very first time in his life, there is a girl his age cuddling him. (No, his younger sister does not count.) So, shouldn’t he take advantage of this situation? He’s a soldier, liable to die any day, so maybe this is a gift from god? An apology for all the trouble he’s been through? Isn’t this the prime opportunity for him to discover what girls are like? It wouldn’t be wrong to hold her a bit right? At the very least, can’t he just smell her…?
Yeah, he’s not stupid. This is the commander he’s talking about, after all.
Though offered the privacy of sleeping in the captain’s quarters earlier, Major Degurechaff politely turned it down. She insisted that she wanted to stay close to her subordinates to watch over them. She said it like she was altruistically worried for their health, but everyone knew the implication she was actually laying down, even if it was completely unwarranted.
It was an open threat. ‘I’m watching you all. Be on your best behavior toward the girls, or else.’
He gets the feeling the Major wasn’t considering herself as a girl at that moment, but even so he knows the truth of the matter. If he acts untoward to her in any way, he will likely be put down immediately… not that he would ever consider doing such a thing in the first place because he knows he’d be shot, but also because, well… It’s her.
Warren doesn’t think he’s alone in saying that it’s very difficult to consider Major Degurechaff as a member of the opposite sex. The other guys are all older, so it makes sense they just can’t see her that way, but Warren on the other hand is in the same age group she is. It would be normal for him to look in her direction sometimes, right?
That’s just not the case. He and everyone else who meets her can all agree that there’s just something too disturbing about her to ever allow someone to think about her like that.
Most of the time.
In this situation, the mental block that protected him has completely disappeared at the most inopportune time. With it gone, a memory he’d almost completely forgotten about resurfaces. Just before he chose to volunteer for the war, he’d seen a photo attached to an article. That of a pretty girl his age with long blonde hair, a cheerful expression, and a frilly, ribbon-adorned dress. She was called ‘White Silver’ and she was actually a war hero.
It was a surprise for him when he actually got to meet the cute girl from the photograph that he was infatuated with… only for that image of her to be a complete falsehood. The reality is that she’s a severe, demanding piece of work. That gentle smile had never graced her face, her attitude was cold and irritable, and she wore exclusively uniforms not pretty dresses.
Like this though? Peacefully sleeping, cuddled into his chest? She almost matches the propaganda he fell for. She wears her hair down while she sleeps, the top buttons on her uniform are open exposing a rare glimpse of her skin, and her face shows none of its usual hardness.
Who knew that when she’s not looking at people with disgust, she’s actually got a pretty face. A very pretty face that he’s seeing up close and personal. Long pale eyelashes, cute round cheeks, soft pink lips…
If he didn’t confidently know that he’d definitely get in trouble for it, he might have had the inclination to trace those features with a gentle touch, just to see if they were as soft as they look.
After all, if she gets to cuddle him, he should get to touch her too… Right?
No, no, no. Stop thinking like that!
This truly is a nightmare scenario. A test of sheer willpower to evict every thought from his head and ignore her.
Yes. Ignore her. That’s the only way out. It’s not like he can move her. If she wakes up and finds his hands on her, he’ll definitely lose the appendages.
With the phrase, ‘Don’t act like a freak,’ repeating in his head, he forces his brain to switch gears and reconsider this whole scenario to be something else. Something not intimate and not related to how a pretty girl is tightly curled up to him, her forehead against his collarbone and her hands clutching the front of his shirt to keep him close…
This is… What is this…? What can he reimagine this to be?
Perhaps… It’s sort of similar to that one time when his parents were out for the evening. When his little sister wanted to spend the night with him because she was scared and they were gone.
Yes, that can work. If he thinks of it like that, it’s fine! It’s nothing weird, it’s just like that time was! The battalion is like a tight-knit family. It’s like he’s fulfilling his role as a good older sibling here too. Completely wholesome.
…
He feels the urge to put his head in his hands.
It just doesn’t work. No matter how much he tries to reimagine it into something innocent, the image falls apart. The main problem is that Commander Degurechaff isn’t anything like his sister. For example, Ursula is actually a sweet, precious girl who adores her big brother and does not shout abusive death threats at him when he doesn’t fly fast enough for her liking. The Major…? Well…
I wonder… What would it be like if the Major actually did adore me?
Maybe it’s because of the situation, but the first image that comes to mind is her wanting to be close to him while she’s awake too. He can almost see her hanging off his arm, either following him around, or, perhaps more reasonably, dragging him with her.
Actually, maybe it’s not reasonable at all for her to be cuddly and clingy, given what he knows of her personality, but… Maybe she has a secret soft side? It almost seems impossible, but the basis of the fantasy (Major Degurechaff adoring him, that is) is also impossible, so he may as well imagine whatever he wants.
A commander that adores him… Maybe she’d be inclined to give him special treatment? Or perhaps treats in general? Like… Ah, perhaps she’d be willing to share with him some of those chocolates he knows she’s squirreling away.
She would lean in just a bit too close, as close as she is now, and tell him, “Say ‘Ahh.’”
Of course, he would have to oblige. She’s a superior officer, orders are orders. And when he does, she’ll place the chocolate right on his tongue, fingers gently brushing his lips.
“Oh,” she would say afterwards, “You have a little bit on your face, let me get that for you…”
Then she would lean in even more impossibly closer, cradling his cheek. Her tongue would dart out, cleaning the smudge, and then…
Wait, what the fuck? No. That’s too far. I can’t handle this. This is inviting too many weird thoughts. I have to move her.
He hadn’t wanted to touch her at all in fear of her waking up and getting the wrong idea, but this situation is untenable. In real time, he’s experiencing his interests get corrupted by her presence. If it goes on any longer, those corruptions might stick, and then he’d be truly done for.
It’s fine. She won’t wake up. I’ll be careful, and it’ll be like it never happened.
As terrifying a prospect this is, he has to do this. Carefully, he grabs her wrists and tries to pull her hands from his clothes.
Of course, it could never be that easy, could it? Stubbornly, she refuses to let go and curls in more, gripping the fabric tighter.
That’s really just like her. If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s doing the thing that her opponent would absolutely hate.
He’s really going to have to pry her fingers open, isn’t he? Ah, this sucks.
He tries not to sigh in complaint as he goes forward with his plan, moving on to attempt detangling her grip from his shirt. When he touches her hands though, he’s surprised to find that her fingers feel like ice.
Is… that what this is?
She’s cold. She’s cuddling him like her life depends on it because she wants to steal his body heat.
Somehow, more than anything else, that’s the fantasy killer. She’d be doing this to anyone else if they were close enough, he just happened to be her unlucky victim.
Well, in fairness to her, the submarine is freezing, but on the other hand, no matter how much he sympathizes with her plight, there’s no way he’ll sleep further if she’s this close. Whether reality has struck him or not, she has to get back in her bunk.
The first problem to resolve is her vice-like grip on him. Regulations forbid mages from excessive and unnecessary magic use on the basis of conserving mana for battle, but in this situation, he can get away with a formula as lightweight as a temperature adjustment, right?
Wrapping his hands around hers, he attempts to focus not on her soft skin or her thin fingers, but calculating the energy needed to warm her hands to a reasonable temperature. As soon as the spell is complete her grip loosens and allows him to remove her.
From there it’s just a matter of picking up her and her blanket, which is no problem with how light she is, and depositing both back on the bunk.
The moment he tries to pull away though, there is a snag. As in, she snags his arm and tries to keep him from leaving.
Really? Maybe it’s not that god is giving him a gift, but rather a punishment.
Why?! What’s this for? Even if I let my imagination wander too far, I didn’t do anything! That has to count for something! Those thoughts weren’t even that bad! Really, they could’ve been far worse, like–
… Perhaps it’s best to cancel that train of thought.
Back on track. If he’s the warmest thing around that she’s instinctively seeking out, then he just has to give her a new target. Again, he has to use mana that he shouldn’t be, but it’s the only way for him to escape this battlefield. It’ll only be a small formula, he can manage it easily. After all, he would be an absolutely sorry excuse for a mage if he couldn’t even perform a simple spell to heat her blanket for her.
This time when he completes the formula he feels like he’s been graced with a beautiful reward.
She curls up into a ball in her blanket in such a cute way his heart jumps. She looks like a precious small animal, and her face…! That gentle smile he’d seen in that photograph, that expression he considered a falsehood… It’s actually real?
It’s better in person. The photograph doesn’t hold a candle to reality. This uncomfortable scenario was worth it, in the end. If it was safe to do so, without the possibility of her enacting retribution if she found out, he would take a recording with his computation orb to preserve this memory.
Distracted by her face, he stops his calculations. He only comes back to himself when he hears her grumble a bit in complaint and roll over. She must want her heater back.
There’s a choice to be made here, but… It’s really not a hard one.
In the dark of the submarine he quietly whispers, “Just for a few more minutes alright?”
♡
The next time Warren Grantz wakes up, it is to the sound of hushed giggling. As much as he would like to roll over and ignore it, he’s been trained into knowing better than to try and sleep in by now. He forces himself to move.
“Ah, he’s waking up,” someone whispers.
When he sits up, still half-asleep, the first face he sees is his flight partner, Captain Weiss, smiling at him. Beside him are Lieutenants Koenig and Neumann, also stupidly grinning. The former of the two apparently already awake enough to be casting delicately complex formulas that Grantz doesn’t want to try and interpret while barely conscious.
“Good morning, Lieutenant Grantz,” Weiss says, “Did you sleep well?” He says it like he’s making a joke, but for the life of him, Grantz has no idea what it might be.
“Um. I guess…?” he responds. Despite the midnight interruption, it was fine. He certainly slept better in the submarine than he did on the Rhine.
“Really? I’m surprised. Perhaps the Major is a better bunkmate than I thought.”
He stops. “What?” Pauses. Looks down.
Attached to his hip like a little heat-seeking leech is Commander Degurechaff. Again. He didn’t even notice her, she didn’t even so much as twitch when he moved.
“I can’t believe it,” Neumann says conspiratorially, “Grantz slept with the Major.”
“Hold on, hold on! Do not phrase it like that!”
“Aw, why not?”
“This isn’t—! She’s just cold!” The second he tries to explain the situation, the others burst into laughter. He hisses at them in response, “Shhh! You guys are so loud! What if she wakes up?!”
Even if technically it’s not my fault, I wonder if she’ll be mad at me for this. At the very least, she’s so prideful, she’ll be embarrassed. Will she give me time to explain? Or will she not care?
Immediately he tries to remove her, but it’s a bit of a struggle compared to the previous time. This time she’s wrapped her arms around his waist along with her hands clutching his shirt. The only good part of this scenario is that she doesn’t seem to be waking up, no matter what he does.
The laughing bastards don’t even try to help, though.
As he looks up to snap at them to help, it finally clicks to him what formula Koenig seems to be casting.
“Are you recording this?!”
Their only response is to laugh harder.
The annoying commotion is interrupted by the entrance of Lieutenant Serebryakov dutifully bringing in a fresh cup of coffee that is undoubtedly for the girl currently clinging to his side.
Visha managed to pull off making a cup of coffee in a submarine because of course she did. Nothing less for the Major.
She squats down next to commander Degurechaff, completely ignoring Warren.
“Major, it’s time to wake up,” she says gently, “I made you some coffee.”
She brings the drink a little bit closer to her and… the smell of it must be what awakens the commander. Her hands loosen their grip and her arms easily unwrap from his waist as she sits up.
Bleary-looking blue eyes completely disregard her surroundings, her sleepy attention focused entirely on Visha, or, perhaps more accurately, the cup in her hands.
Visha doesn’t seem to be offended in any way that the coffee is of far more importance to the commander. She passes it to her with the most amused smile on her face.
Immediately she takes a large sip of it, regardless of the temperature. Upon being contented with her first sip of the day, a small pink tongue darts out of her mouth to lick her lips clean, not wanting to waste even a drop.
No, Grantz does not impolitely stare at her mouth as it does, no matter what anyone may say.
Visha continues, “The crew said they’d be happy to have breakfast with us before we go. Why don’t you come have something to eat with your coffee?”
Commander Degurechaff nods and shuffles to her feet, allowing Visha to lead her away. As they go, Visha fusses at her, attempting to smooth her hair down and fix her buttons. The guys in the room, and even the person she was just cuddling go completely ignored.
So what? Is that it? I freaked out for nothing?
He wants to sigh in exasperation and lay back down, but he doesn’t. When the door to the room shuts and they’re truly gone, Grantz glances over at Koenig, hesitating slightly.
There is only one good thing to come out of this, so I may as well take it.
“Will you… Will you give me the data for that recording?”
The knowing look on his face is unbearably smug, “Of course, buddy.”