♫ 【艦これTraditional／Folk】 母港 「studio CHANT」
Virgil and Sayoko's Quarters
Since turning in at 2200 hours almost religiously as she had promised, Sayoko's sleep upon the bottom bunk since that time had been anything but peaceful. The green-haired pilot tossed and turned many times, knocking her pillow right off the bed onto the floor along with most of the bunk's covers. Then the mumbling began, softly at first and unintelligible, but beginning to build in volume as whatever nightmare she was having continued to torment her. Eventually they became shrill screams that reverberated through the room, impossible to ignore. "Nnnng... I can't... Mifune-san... No... NOOOO!" Sayoko cried out into the night, her still shut emerald eyes rolling beneath their lids. She then grabbed at her left shoulder with a ragged, clawing motion as if trying to remove an invisible creature from there. Seemingly failing that, her hands went up and grabbed at her head with fistfuls of hair in them, as her body assumed a curled up, fetal position. "Stop it... get out of my head... GET OUT OF MY HEAD...!" the Jiyuuian implored to the darkness, obviously reliving a traumatic past experience right beneath Virgil's sleeping space as the clock nearby impassively marked time ticking past 0100.
Presently, a tuft of blonde hair dangled from above. Then a pair of deeply concerned-looking eyes. Virgil allowed himself to fall off the top bunk and land on the floor next to Sayoko's berth in a sort of arranged heap. He was sitting up next to her now, eyes fixed on her rising and falling breaths. "Miss Mochizuki?" He spoke softly, reaching a hand almost out to touch her-- but stopping short lest he disturb her further. "Is there anything I can... Well, what's the matter?"
Sayoko's breathing was indeed labored under her navy pajamas and she shivered a few times in between them. The strong woman from the air seemed so vulnerable right now, though at the mention of her name something seemed to change. The wailing abated and her eyes opened slowly, hazy and unfocused and pained. While she physically looked at Virgil where he sat, she also seemed to be looking through him at something else beyond. "Get to the last shuttle... before they devour you too..." Lt. Mochizuki ominously warned.
Virgil made a sideways face and turned his eyes upwards. Then, to the side. When he'd examined every inch of their quarters, he looked back down at Sayoko and whispered softly, "It looks like we made it into the shuttle on time, Sayoko-san."
The Jiyuuian looked relieved for a moment when he said this, then clutched her shoulder again with her hand. "At least someone made it out alive... but... the Parasite. It's in too deep. I can't... it's going to make me do something... terrible." Sayoko's other hand began to wander to the table next to the bed as she said this, beginning to finger the grip of an all-black, silenced Na-W/P-08 HAS that Virgil recognized as an IPG issued sidearm that was laying there, next to a bottle of strong sedatives.
"Better let me handle it." Virgil suggested, putting his hands across the receiver of the government-issue spook gun. His thumb slid into the grip between it and Sayoko's, a surprisingly firm intrusion for the softspoken nature of the person behind it. He took the weapon in hand, dropped the magazine a bit awkwardly and ejected the chambered cartridge. It bounced with metallic clamor a few times before skittering away. The younger pilot didn't watch it roll off, instead kept his eyes firmly on Sayoko's. He handed back the useless weapon with a soft smile, assuring her, "Looks like it's all out of ammo, now. You must be pretty tough. But maybe you shouldn't yell any more... We might have neighbors in the next room."
The still apparently dreaming Sayoko fought his intrusion briefly, frowning. "What.. what are you doing?" Then the magazine hit the floor and somehow it shocked her back to the real world fully from the dreamscape, her clouded gaze now sharp with anger and some panic as the former agent realized that someone just disarmed her gun and had placed it in her hand. But since he had his eyes on hers so strongly, she hesitated in instinctively pointing it back at him. "Wait... Virgil?"
Calm eyes blinked back at her. The smile faded, but Virgil's face remained inoffensive. "It's because of your Soul Savior, isn't it? You've died before?" He asked with curiosity bubbling beneath the current of firm helpfulness. "Or is it something else?"
Now fully aware of the situation, Sayoko turned away from him with a degree of shame. "It happened again, didn't it. Gomen." She lowered the gun, though her grip on it remained tight, and white knuckled. "A clean death would have been better than the shadow of a life I'm left with because of those... monsters." Her other free hand that was near her shoulder and neck started to slowly drop down as well, revealing what appeared to be a deep and strangely unhealed scar on her ivory-colored skin where the pajama top was skewed aside from her tossing and turning before.
Virgil frowned. He took his legs out from beneath himself and turned around to place his back against Sayoko's bed. Crossing his legs, he sighed and suggested, "If this is a regular event for you, perhaps it would be best if y' didn't sleep with a loaded gun. I mean, this sounds real un-Nepleslian of me, but you were about to blow a hole in your shoulder, there."
Sayoko looked at the weapon for a long, hard moment and placed it back on the nightstand carefully, still sitting up in her messy bunk and staring a hole in Virgil's back. "It wouldn't be the first time," she offered in a somber tone, leaving the rest of that particular story unspoken. "Something happened to me when I was attacked by a Mishhu Parasite at Tange."
"Something what?" Virgil knew that vulnerable moments like these were when stories had to be told. He couldn't say how or why he knew this, but his intuition told him that Sayoko would sleep better if she told the tired old tale again. Or maybe she wouldn't. He kept his eyes focused on the far wall and drew his knees up close to him, pressing his back harder against the bed behind him.
"A part of me doesn't always feel like 'me' anymore," she responded somewhat cryptically, yet it sounded like the closest thing to her own feelings. "The psychologists say the neurotoxins had something to do with it. I was starting to lose my mind when they cut that terrible worm off of me on the last Nep shuttle out of Hizagari spaceport before it was overrun." Sayoko pushed some unkempt looking hair out of her face. "At night, I start to remember things about that day. Bits and pieces I had forgotten. Maybe it was trauma, or something else."
"They say that the drugs our former foes used effect everyone differently, too... Aside from the intended effects, that is. Sometimes, they even change the way your brain works. Even for Nekovalkyrja, so the rumor goes." Virgil couldn't really name the 'they' in this case, but he was sure it was a medical journal or a pharmaco pamphlet for soldiers dealing with post-war tribulations. He turned around again, and slid his legs under the berth until they were up against Sayoko's footlocker. He was probably a little too close, but there was no accounting for distance in the dark. Sensing that he was much closer to her face, Virgil quieted his tone and asked as gently as possible, "Is there anything I can do for you, Miss Mochizuki? I hate to see a wingmate like this, especially someone as young as I am."
The Jiyuuian bit her lip a moment, now thinking better of discussing more of her secrets openly like this with a person she barely knew. Then suddenly the strapping young pilot was inches away from her face, with its smooth and angular Yamataian features barely able to be seen in the low light. She seemed to be a cross between surprised and nearly amused. "Lt. Canton... you need to avail yourself of the notion that you want to save me. I've already involved you too much in things that are not your burdens to bear."
"Oh, pish-posh-applesauce." He really could be effeminate at times. Sayoko could swear she felt the wind of a limp wrist flopping in the air dismissively. "If you're going to subject people to midnight screaming, you've got to let them try to help you. It's not fair that I have to listen to you suffer and then just stare at the ceiling. It's like eating in front of someone who's hungry, you just don't do it. So let's do some brainstorming on what'll help you sleep better, okay?"
It was hard for Sayoko to keep her serious, dismissive tone when Virgil was responding in such a way. He also made a very valid point, and a look of mild frustration crossed her face. "There is something that helps," she stated back to him flatly, as the green-haired young lady reached for the pill bottle that remained on the table near the bunk with a practiced motion.
"Didn't you take one of those before bed, already, though?" Virgil asked quietly, putting just a single finger on the lid of the bottle. "If you didn't, I guess it's fine. But it seems like you did and if you did then they clearly don't help. Probably make things worse. I mean, if dreaming is your problem, don't sedatives help you sleep deep enough to dream?"
Sayoko's fingers brushed against Virgil's briefly, as a battle of wills ensued over the opening of the prescription bottle's lid. "My body processes toxins faster than yours, so I need them more frequently. And I need to sleep to be combat effective in the morning." This obviously was an excuse, though, a justification for her actions. Her emerald eyes then met his questioningly, as she tugged the sedatives closer to her. "If not this method, then... what would you suggest I do?"
Virgil shrugged. He was a pilot, not a doctor. He was no expert on Jiyuuian physiology either. Crossing his arms and tossing a wave of hair from his eyes, the young pilot said quietly, "When I was a kid, my sister used to sing to me when I had bad dreams. Maybe some music? Somethin' for your mind to focus on while you're not paying attention. Maybe somethin' to hold onto, like a stuffed animal."
"Music... perhaps," replied Sayoko as she picked up the discarded pillow from the floor where it lied next to the bed and wrapped an arm around it somewhat sullenly. "I'm not sure what sleeping with a stuffed animal would do for my 'feared IPG agent' image, however tarnished it may be."
"I'm not sure what screaming out in the middle of the night would do for that same image. Besides, everybody knows Yamataian girls sleep with stuffed animals-- even if they don't really." Virgil shot back, cutting sharp eyes to meet Sayoko's. "In fact, I bet everyone here thinks you slit throats and wipe the blood off of your knife with a Yami-yami Nekorangers official T-shirt. Don't wanna be cute?" Virgil shrugged, "Don't be cute. But everybody's gonna imagine you're cute anyway. It's called ethnocentricity, or stereotyping. I'm sure you learned all about it at the 'spy academy'."
"Well now you know why I'm called 'Banshee', like the mythical ghost that wails for the dead," Sayoko quipped back. "It has followed me for ages, a haunting name for how I have drifted from place to place. Bad things tend to happen when I stay somewhere too long. Forget the stereotyping and the ethnic distrust, it's much deeper than that..." She shook her head once and then drew the pillow closer like it was going to burst into feathers. "I'm not cute, Virgil... I'm cursed. Maybe you just don't see it yet..."
"Nobody's cursed." The look that came over her wingmate's face next was one nearing disgust and pity, almost abandoning the caring nature formerly offered. "There's no such thing. And don't say you're not cute, either. Nobody made you the Arbiter of Cute, the President of Adorable, the Taisa no Kawaii. You're plenty cute. Hell, I know some guys back home that would write letters to me about a girl like you-- 'Oh man,' They'd tell me, 'Virgil, bro, I'm dating a secret agent girl with green hair. She totally speaks Yammie-go and I bet she likes all the same cartoons as me. She's super-quiet and she's a space-fighter pilot to boot. So lucky, bro.' That's what they'd say."
The space-fighter pilot was about to open her mouth again, to fire back with some other self-depreciating comment to the stubbornly optimistic and complimenting Virgil, but she just couldn't seem to do it. Nothing came out, instead there was silence, and a small blush flitted across her cheeks in what he might take as a sign of progress. Sayoko herself hadn't heard a compliment like that in years and wasn't sure how to respond.
"Not cute, she says," Virgil went on, reminding her of just how close they were with his observation, "And then blushes like a schoolgirl. Right, you're a
real tough lady, alright."
Sayoko's eyebrows furrowed and she seemed to be subtly fuming at his observations. "So, are you saying that you are the Taisa no Kawaii, then?"
"President of Adorable, at least." Was the reply.
The green-haired woman studied his features a moment as he declared his office. "Why is someone like you here, in Aquila Flight, then? You're not like the other Aces... you still have your innocence about you." She almost was about to reach out for him testingly, as an ivory skinned hand twitched but she held back. "I find this intriguing and maddening at the same time, Canton-san."
"I just got lucky, I guess." Virgil replied. He shrugged and leaned over onto the bed, planting his chin on a crooked elbow. It was a little off to say the boy still had his innocence about him. He'd killed pirates in his fighter, and he'd seen his sister die pretty violently in an airbike race. A better way to describe it was that he was more accepting than most, or maybe even oblivious. Perhaps he was outright insane. For whatever reason, Virgil was raised to be nice to everyone, to stay calm in the face of adversity, and to never hurt a friend-- and so no matter how sick that made him look, he planned on sticking to that. His was a heart full of love. In a world of peace, he probably would've been a great man. As it was, he was an oddly competent pilot to the point of verging on genius-- and Nepleslia needed the best pilots it could get. "I just scored really high on all my exams, did my best flying trials, and showed up to work on time every day. I don't think I'm really Aquila Flight material, either, but I sure do wish I was as cool as everyone here and I'll work as hard as it takes to get there."
Sayoko listened to his words carefully, her attention now different than before. Instead of trying to methodically pick out his uncomfortable truths and directness to refute, she was genuinely listening to Virgil. "We all have a reason to be here," she began with a softer tone now, finally getting up the courage to extend that strong, but dainty hand the short distance it took to touch the young pilot's warm cheek with her fingertips gingerly. "I think yours is to give others like me... hope... the better world we all fight and die for. I apologize for what I said before -- its just that I almost forgot what that was like to feel appreciated by someone."
"I guess you've been hanging around a lot of crummy people, then." Virgil replied, then showed her how you're meant to really touch a person. Four long, thin fingers trailed onto her shoulder from above. At first it was a delicate touch, sensitive to the potential for startling, but in time it became a firm, reassuring grasp. Just like the grasp around the hand that'd emerged to brush his cheek. Sweet, perhaps even maudlin. Virgil's eyes seemed to gleam in the darkness and he whispered to her, "Why don't we find you something to hold onto, Mochizuki-san?"
The sensation of his touch inching onto her shoulder near where the old scar was caused Sayoko to suck in a breath for a moment, but she suppressed the startle to a degree and did not recoil from it like she normally would. For all the pain it might have generated, Virgil's touch was also soothing, reassuring. She closed her emerald eyes for a moment and mumbled, "Are you saying you want to be my... dakimakura?" This was in reference to the often lampooned 'hug pillows' for lonely Nekovalkyrja that he was probably imagining when he talked about every Yamataian girl having a stuffed animal.
"Whatever that is, sure." Virgil shrugged, but he didn't take his hands off of her. His imagining of Yamatai was closer to that of samurai and lords-- he'd probably spent less time watching shows about awesome warrior princesses and more time watching soap operas about the working of a samurai house-- and so he imagined some sort of retainer, some loyal and helpful servant who would attend to a lady. "Just tell me what to do, and stick your finger in my ear before you scream."
Sayoko could see he was confused by the reference that was lost in translation, so instead of taking the time to explain it properly, the Jiyuuian started to slowly and carefully use his grip on her to pull Virgil from his position on the edge of the bottom berth onto the bunk itself. This put him physically right next to his wingmate, only the material of both of their standard-issue navy pajamas separating his body from her feminine curves underneath. "Just... stay right here for tonight," Sayoko spoke into his ear, her request more calm than lustful, as a pair of svelte arms soon wrapped around the handsome Nepleslian pilot like he was now her replacement pillow. "I promise I won't cry out or reach for the pills if you do."
"Okay." Virgil seemed used to this, or at least somewhat prepared for it. As soon as she pulled him in, he slithered about to settle into her figure and press his body against hers almost as if she'd asked him to. He wrapped his arms around hers and closed them tightly around himself, locking himself into the roller-coaster of cuddles. "I hope I'm comfortable enough for you."
"Very," came the reply from Sayoko, as her body's earlier tension from the dream was beginning to melt away into a calm stillness. Virgil's presence so close with his arms around hers was a comforting warmth so much different than seeking a fleeting peace from the bottom of a sedative bottle. "Like Ermine fur, is it...?" she murmured in passing reference to his callsign, a bit of drowsiness in her accented voice.
"I've never actually seen an Ermine." Replied the eponymous man. "I heard they live on Vandenberg and Geshrintal, in the northern regions." Virgil didn't really know what else to say about it, for all he knew of the creature being named after one wasn't ever his idea. He brushed affectionately at Sayoko's hair, however, assuring her that his lack of knowledge was nowhere near important. Without asking permission, only with the knowledge that it was a grand sensation, the young pilot lifted the bottom of his shirt and reached around himself to do the same for Sayoko's-- so that both pilots could enjoy an indulgent band of chaste, yet warm skin-on-skin contact.
Lt. Mochizuki's viridian hair was soft through his fingertips, flowing like a mussed green river from her head that was starting to bob to the side now as the pilot's sleeplessness was catching up to her. The foreigner didn't show any signs of protest as Virgil started to slip her shirt upward, exposing a smooth, ivory colored belly beneath it that soon slipped against his own abdomen with a pleasing tingle for both of them. "Ah.. Canton-san," began Sayoko at the rush of sensation, squeezing her bunkmate noticeably tighter. Though soon after her breathing started to slow and deepen as the continued contact eased the pilot into slumber. She spoke again with a grogginess now apparent, "Thank you..."
"It's okay," He assured her as softly as he could, "I like it, too. I-if that's okay with you, of course..." Why not toss a joke in for good measure, after all they were already so close. "I could try to hate it, if that'd help you sleep."
Light murmurs and mumbles is all Virgil got in reply to his joke, as it started becoming apparent that Sayoko had now fallen completely asleep in his embrace. He had definitely accomplished his mission of getting her to relax, as the Jiyuuian's slender legs shifted slightly to intertwine with his on the bunk they were now sharing for the remainder of the night. With a sigh, Virgil shut his mouth and just bathed in the shared warmth between the two of them. He'd been wide awake by this point, and the tension of the situation sent his mind into thought. Still, his eyes darted down to Sayoko's face and he managed a soft smile in the darkness. Finally, perhaps indulgently, he craned his head over and gently gave her a kiss on the forehead-- for Virgil, this would've been what he'd wanted were the roles reversed and it seemed to feel right. Then, he closed his eyes and whispered to the deafness of Sayoko's slumber.
"Good night, Miss Mochizuki."
