Personal Weapons

◊   ◊   ◊

Branch

Ink Burns

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

This is a work of fanfiction, produced according to the principles of transformative fair use as put forward in US copyright law, and abiding by the custom and practice of fan-produced work in Japan, where the source texts were created. No author is in any way affiliated with any of the creators of the source texts, nor with the companies who distribute their products, nor any other rights holder, and these stories were not authorized by either the creators or the producers. Ink Burns is a fan site and the material here is freely provided for the enjoyment of fellow fan-community members; there is no commercial infringement.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 US license at the Ink Burns fanfiction archive (http://alltrees.org/archive/).

Published on 2007-03-26 14:22:30.

Attributions can be made by author's name and a link to the archive.

This ebook edition was published on May 14, 2012 by the Ink Burns fanfiction archive.

Personal Weapons

Hiruma and Mamori play with guns. Romance, I-2

She knew that she was spending too much time, far too much time, with Hiruma when she found her right hand tensing during extra long committee meetings, index finger curling further back the longer Yomura-kun babbled on. She worried a bit about that, but not too much. The telling point, she felt, was that, however enticing the idea of things that went bang and whoosh and crackle were, she didn't really want to shoot Hiruma himself. If she were being corrupted by his wild, thoughtless attitude she would, wouldn't she? No one annoyed her as much as he did, after all.

What she wanted to do to Hiruma was swat him repeatedly in the face with a wet mop. And only sometimes.

She did find her eyes and then her fingers wandering over the guns he left on the bench beside him, though, tracing over the rough grips, brushing the slides. She had to admit, in the privacy of her own mind, the way people hopped to do what Hiruma said when he had one of these in hand was extremely tempting at times.

"You wanting to burn something else up, fucking manager? You've got the wrong one for that."

Mamori snatched her fingers back, flushing. "Don't be ridiculous!" Warming to the offensive, which was the only way to deal with Hiruma, she added, "And that was your fault for leaving something that dangerous just lying around."

He raised a brow at her and snorted. "Who was it who picked the damn thing up and pulled the trigger without knowing what it was?"

"You should have said," she insisted stubbornly.

He gave her a long look. "Well, that's a .30, and that's an AK-47, and this is an uzi, just for fun, that one's a SAM, and for fuck's sake you don't just poke at them, hold it like you mean it."

Her spine stiffened at that last bit. "Fine, then!" She wrapped her fingers around the smallest one, holding it away from either of them.

Hiruma rolled his eyes. "Not like that!" He pushed up to his feet and came around behind her, hands closing over hers to bring the gun up in front of them. "Even the kick on this little thing will take it out of your hands if you hold it like that. Like this, so the punch goes back into your shoulders."

At first she stiffened a bit, finding him more or less hugging her. Kind of more than less, actually. She blushed at the press of his thigh against hers as he nudged her foot forward.

"Little further apart; there. Now unlock your elbows."

Slowly, she relaxed. His hands moving her arms, shoulders, ribs, were light and impersonal. And she could feel that this was a more solid way to stand.

"Like this?" She lifted the gun in both hands, chest high.

"About. Now, see that blocking sled over there?" A long finger pointed over her shoulder.

"The one Kurita-kun broke today?" she shot back a bit dryly. Honestly, it was a good thing Hiruma did have ways to get more funding out of the principal.

"Yeah, that one." She could hear his grin. "Look hard at it, and pull the trigger slowly."

The crack of the shot made her jump, and even she could see the bullet went wild. She frowned and lined up again before Hiruma could say anything. She wasn't used to not being able to do the things she tried. The next one jarred her back, rocking her on her heels, but a hole darkened the sled's padding. She nodded with satisfaction and lifted her chin, looking over her shoulder at Hiruma. Just let him try to call her ignorant or incompetent again. When their eyes met she had to blink, though.

His sharp grin, gleaming down at her, wasn't impersonal at all.

End