Full Metal Panic! Short Stories Volume 9 [Parts 1 to 2] by Shouji Gatou

Author:Shouji Gatou
Language: eng
Format: epub

Unaware of Sousuke’s own rookie behavior, Kaname and the others began their survival game training on a weekend morning. They had chosen a campground in the city, the same hill where the life drawing incident had gone down some time back.

The first assignment was running, push-ups, sit-ups, and squats, followed by more running. It was a serious training regimen, and it left Ihara and the others quickly panting for breath.

“Hahh... hahh... Chidori-san. Why do we have to... run this much?” Ihara asked Kaname, who was running behind him, as they staggered their way up the hill.

“Hahh... hahh... the first thing you need is guts... the will to fight. So, I’m building up... enthusiasm...” She was also sweating and panting for breath. Nevertheless, fighting spirit blazed in her eyes. Even if they were out of shape, the others were all men, who naturally had superior stamina. The fact that she was still in fourth place right now showed how seriously she was taking this competition.

“But... rather than this sort of basic training... hahh... hahh... we wanted you to tell us... Sagara-kun’s weak points...”

“You really think... he’s got such... convenient weaknesses?! Get real! Hrrrgh!”

Gritting her teeth, Kaname pushed herself the last of the way. She passed Ihara and the others to reach the finish line first. Then she collapsed, her arms and legs splayed.

“Hahh... hahh...” Droplets of sweat hit the ground beneath her. Her tank top and leggings were soaked.

The others arriving at the finish line gazed at her and began whispering among themselves,

“I’m glad she agreed to help us... But what’s she so mad about?” said Ebikawa, the knife-user. His knife was made from rubber, of course. He was just a guy who liked to get really into his role.

“Yeah... I don’t think we’re gonna survive this. She doesn’t seem to know how to use a gun, either,” said the scar-faced Inoue. He’d actually gotten the cross-shaped scar on his forehead when he’d fallen off his bike in his fourth year of elementary, and again in the first year of middle school, respectively hitting an electric pole and a concrete fence.

“Stop it, you guys. We gave her command. We can’t complain about it now,” said the bearded, beret-wearing Ihara. Incidentally, he just had a prematurely grizzled face.

Sasaki Hiromi was laying on the ground, sprawled out limply. His teammates were in the same boat. They were all heaving for breath, letting out complaints of various intensities. It was like the old veteran sergeant, (Ihara, in this case), was trying to reassure his men about the newly appointed lieutenant, Kaname.

After a brief rest, Kaname stood up. “Okay,” she said. “Next on the regimen: thirty courses of daily calisthenics No. 2!”

The entire group let out a scream.

“Chidori-san, this is too psychologically taxing!”

“This isn’t going to make us better at survival games!”

“And why No. 2?!”

Kaname’s fan roared through the air. It struck the ground with a bang as she shouted, “I’m trying to increase your concentration!”

“Does it really work like that?”

“Shut up!” she howled.” Now, get up! Get up!”

The group slowly rose to their feet.

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