Head of Intelligence, Calia
She'd been putting on a show of indifference, but the truth was that Calia was pouring a thousand years' worth of effort into keeping her face perfectly composed.
Whoa...
The spectacle unfolding before her eyes was more than enough to test the patience she'd forged through countless hardships. Naturally, it wasn't a spectacle in any scenic sense of the word — which, as far as she was concerned, only made it better. She was confident that anyone in Firma, dragged over and planted in her seat, would say the exact same thing.
"Nngh..."
Just look at that face, flushed bright red. The very embodiment of stoic, expressionless composure — blushing and fidgeting, of all things. And all because she was too embarrassed to climb onto someone else's lap!
Of course, the Commander standing right in front of her, shuffling her feet for no apparent reason, hadn't said as much. But Calia's instincts as Head of Intelligence had drawn their own conclusions, and they were probably close enough to the truth. And the "someone else" in question was none other than Calia herself.
Is this heaven?
At first, the Commander had sighed as if to say, the things I get asked to do, and approached with a show of bravado. But the moment she actually had to climb on, the embarrassment had clearly gotten to her. Those fox-like eyes of hers, and the amber irises set beneath them, were trembling as if an earthquake had struck.
...If she could make a face like that, she should've shown it sooner. Why did she only ever wear that boring expression right up until she vanished?
Sure, that cool, aloof look had been nice too — but to think she'd been hiding a face that hot underneath it. It was so unfair Calia could barely stand it.
"...Hngh...!"
And then, after agonizing over it again and again, the Commander finally settled into her arms. For someone who'd made up her mind, she moved at a snail's pace — like a turtle crawling across the floor. Calia didn't rush her. She simply exercised the greatest patience of her life, waiting for the reward that was about to arrive.
And the result more than compensated for that hellish wait. It overflowed.
Wow. Oh, wow...
She nearly blacked out. Where their thighs met, there was a softness that put any cushion to shame — a plumpness that didn't belong on legs so slender they looked like they'd snap if you squeezed them. Even hidden beneath those accursed, wretched pants... if she could use that clearly luscious flesh as a pillow, she'd probably sleep better than she ever had in her life.
And then there was the weight. Calia was below, the Commander above, so the load settled naturally onto her legs. The pressure felt good, no question — but at the same time, it was so light she could barely believe a whole person was sitting on her. She could stay like this for hours without any strain at all. The monthly supply crate was definitely heavier than this.
And yet, for someone so light... what was this enormous mass of flesh? Compared to those arms and legs and that waist — thin to the point of frailty — this one part was excessively, outrageously assertive. Calia had always prided herself on being fairly well-endowed, but what was pressing firmly against the underside of her chest wasn't losing to her in the slightest. And this was with underwear and a uniform holding them down. If that seal were ever broken... just how big would they be?
Could I hold one in a single hand? No chance.
"Hahh... hahh..."
On top of that, the height difference meant the Commander's face was buried in her chest. She hadn't planned it, but thanks to that, she could feel every one of the Commander's breaths. Warm air was slipping irregularly into her cleavage. It was strangely ticklish.
This really was heaven. Honestly... I wouldn't mind staying like this for the rest of my life...
"Calia, that's enou—"
"Shh. Quiet."
"Mmph..."
Even as the Commander babbled nonsense, Calia pulled her in tighter. How long had they even been hugging, for her to start complaining already? It'd only been an hour. The Commander's patience had really gone downhill. This was someone who used to work ten, twenty hours straight if nobody stopped her — and now she was surrendering after a single hour? Unthinkable.
And yet, as if trying to keep her own word, the Commander's hands on Calia's back were gripping with excessive force. It didn't hurt, exactly — but she could feel the Commander straining to hold on of her own will. Someone who'd stayed dead calm in the middle of a battlefield swarming with guns and blades, getting this tense over something like this? The gap was a little too much, wasn't it?
Which only made it better.
...Should I ease up a little?
Truthfully, she'd planned to stay like this until they clocked out for the day. But leaving the Commander uncomfortable this whole time felt a bit much, so she used her ability — just a little. Physical contact with the Commander was wonderful, but she didn't want to make her suffer for it.
...
And yet. Why was it so quiet?
"...Commander?"
She rolled her eyes downward to look at her. The grip had gone slack, and her breathing had evened out. Except she wasn't just relaxing into the hug... it was more like she'd lost consciousness entirely. A flicker of doubt made her call out, but there was no answer. Worried something might be wrong, she tapped the Commander's shoulder, even gave her a gentle shake...
"Nnhh..."
But the Commander just mumbled some strange sleep-talk and burrowed in even deeper. Apparently the ability had worked better than expected, and she'd fallen straight to sleep. Calia had activated it at almost the minimum — and even that had put her this deep under. Just how exhausted had she been?
Just in case, she checked the Commander's pulse and felt for a fever, but thankfully there didn't seem to be any health issues.
...She is cute, though.
She let out a sigh of relief and gently stroked the Commander. Scaring the life out of people like that. She'd been worried for nothing.
Then again, the Commander had been pushing herself pretty hard lately. All she did in her room was lie down for a bit, wash up, and sleep — that's how much she'd been working. She'd clock in thirty minutes to an hour early, then stay through regular hours and fill the entire night shift before leaving. And on top of that, she'd been dragging herself in on weekends too. Of course she was exhausted. There was no way the Commander's stamina could handle that and still be fine. She was grinding her body down however she could, and along the way she was either ignoring her body's screaming or didn't even notice it.
"...You could stand to change this part, at least."
No memories, and yet she acts exactly the same. Does she actually remember? They say people die if they change... but you're going to die if you don't. Memories or no memories, I'm stuffing you into the Medical Department soon — by force if I have to. After everything I went through surviving those hellish days, I refuse to watch you collapse. If not for you, then for me.
I know there's a lot of work, but if you overdo it and go down, nothing gets done anyway. Even if you devote all your off-hours to rest, what's the point if the time allocation itself is completely lopsided? Even I, watching through the camera, wondered why she was going that far. Imagine how it actually felt.
...Wait. Through the camera?
...Huh?
In that instant, reality hit her square in the face. Look at the situation she was in right now. The person she'd been satisfying her lust over through a screen every night was right in front of her. No — beyond "in front of her." They were pressed so close that only a few scraps of fabric separated them.
If she so much as moved the hands currently holding the Commander, it would be more than enough to roam over her body. And if she could carefully, undetected, peel those clothes off one by one... she could behold in the flesh the beauty she'd only ever seen on a screen. What's more, the Commander was currently in a state of complete, utter defenselessness.
Calia swallowed.
While reason and instinct brawled inside her head, the last remaining sliver of her cold, calculating mind started running the numbers on its own. She swore to the heavens it hadn't been on purpose, but intention aside, she'd put the Commander to sleep. The Commander's accumulated fatigue layered with Calia's ability meant she'd be in a deep sleep for a while. So if she moved as discreetly as possible, a perfect crime was entirely feasible. Under these conditions, she was confident she wouldn't get caught — and unless someone barged in, the odds of being discovered were vanishingly low.
Right. It was possible... but...
She shut the thought down. She wanted to. God, she wanted to. But there were too many variables to actually go through with it. First: if the Commander got stimulated and woke up midway, the backlash would be enormous. On top of that, there was no shortage of girls who'd barge into the office just to see the Commander, plus a swarm of foxes who'd come sniffing around to keep the newly minted Adjutant in check.
And more than anything...
Forcing it isn't my style.
A shocking thing to come out of a voyeur's mouth, but her personal creed was that if she was going to do it, she'd at least get a minimum of consent. A bizarre mindset, really — as long as she got "permission" by any means necessary, it was fine. And even that changed depending on her mood that day. A truly criminal way of thinking.
To the Commander's immense fortune, today was not the day her creed shifted.
That said...
...Just a little touching should be fine, right?
This is the Commander's fault for falling asleep on her own, after all.