Lemuen set a target in the crosshairs of her sniper, an automatically moving figure in a Lateran shooting range.
She calmly breathed, taking note of the environment around her. There were large-scale fans at full blast which simulated a sort of unkempt weather, wherein winds would be rough and alter the trajectory of bullets.
It also worked to sparsely interrupt the shooter should they be affected by the rustling wind, but for her, it wasn't much of a hindrance.
As her breathing stilled to a serene phase, she narrowed her eyes and finally pulled the trigger.
The sound of the air cracking was heard.
A bullet soared through the coarse environment without much tribulation, orientation only altered faintly by the bristles of artificial gales.
It reached its mark, piercing through the target with a faint spark of fuchsia motes flying off from the ammunition strike. Said mark was the head of the target, a gaping hole having been made far larger than the actual bullet size.
"How was the shot?"
A voice came to her from a distance behind, making the jolting pink-haired Sankta rear toward who had been spectating her.
Cursory acknowledgement immediately found home upon her expression as she spotted a familiar white-haired man in a seat not too far away from her position, where she, herself, was in the shooting range's front—the part separated from the A-zone.
Lemuen replied, "V? What are you doing here? Actually, don't answer that." She raised a palm just as he was about to speak. "You were searching for me, weren't you?" She alternated into a playfully snapped finger gun accompanied by a wink.
"You're not entirely wrong," he admitted. "Fiammetta and Mostima inquired with me in regards to your whereabouts. I told them I wasn't sure."
"Really? It doesn't look like you weren't sure."
"I truly wasn't," V said "It was by mere conjecture I found you here. This shooting range is where you typically bring us to loiter."
"Aw, you remembered?" Lemuen beamed. "Also, loiter? Whatever do you mean by that?" She acted innocent at the end, already knowing what he was implying with their 'practice' visits.
"Forget about it." He waved her off, standing up. "I'll go tell Mostima and—"
"Hold on."
V halted in his steps when her voice cut him off. "...Yes?"
"Can't a girl have some alone time?" Lemuen asked. "I need to focus on practicing some of my shots, so don't go telling them where I am yet."
He looked to have grasped the situation. "Of course, I understand. I'll take my leave—"
She cut him off again. "But~, If you want to watch me practice, I wouldn't mind." Her index finger looped around a strand of her rosy hair, fiddling it with circular motions, side-glancing the targets in the shooting range's A-zone.
V raised an eyebrow. "Did you not say you desire solitude?"
"Well, I guess... maybe you're a bit of an exception?"
There was a brief lull between the two, and only by a brief minute interval between the two was it broken, rather unceremoniously.
"...If that's the case—and if I may ask—why were you practicing?" he asked, walking toward her and clasping his book shut. "Is there some event you will partake in?"
Lemuen smiled more brightly, stars seemingly sparking from her face. "You're right on the bullseye. I'm sure you already know what event?"
"Pardon me for my ignorance," V said, taking a seat beside her at the shooting range. "But I do not."
"You don't?" she repeated, mildly surprised. "There were multiple flyers distributed across campus, didn't you spot any of them?"
He shook his head, reaffirming his claim.
"The freshman shooting competition," Lemuen elaborated, resting her elbow right next to where her sniper rifle was propped. "I wanted to participate after receiving my Patron Firearm this year. That's why I'm practicing." She tapped the armament, producing a 'clink' sound.
V spared the weapon a glance, nodding. "To test your mettle against other seemingly equal rivals. I see," he bore an introspective mien, "who's your competitor?"
"Some students from the other schools, the details haven't really been released yet. I won't be the only one participating from our side either."
"Then you shouldn't let me distract you." He pointed with his thumb, flipping his hardcover book open to a page lined with poems written in some strange epithet of the Victorian language. "'If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear as it is, infinite'."
Lemuen chuckled. "Now what does that mean, Drama Man?"
"It means you should focus," V deftly said, directing his eye toward her while his cranium hung over his tome, face marginally concealed by his lengthy bangs.
"Mmhm, whatever you say." Lemuen kept her gaze lingering on him as she repositioned herself with her sniper rifle, thoughts fluttering about in her psyche.
A short time ago—when the barrel of her sniper was still cold—she had been taking her practice shots with a small stride, complacent with taking things slowly.
Now, she felt some new spirit reinvigorated when watching the white-haired within the vicinity, distracted by the verses of his book.
Locking herself in place, and checking if all the components of her firearm were in place, she inhaled sharply and audibly.
Three shots reverberated in the room, recoil pushing the stock of the sniper rifle against her collarbone. It hadn't done much to push her back whilst she was redirecting the gun between the targets; with brisk sounds of her other hand flicking between stabilizing the firearm and working the lever.
They all reached their mark, hitting the bullseye of the target's head.
V turned away from his book—Lemuen attempting her best to hide a smirk—to assess the targets that had been marked by her deadeye shots.
"Impressive," he voiced, causing the pink-haired Sankta to place her left hand against her cheek with a bashful look.
"Aw, you think so? I'm flattered."
"Impressive for an intermediate display," he completed, glancing back down at his book.
"...Huh?" Lemuen's faux-diffident face froze.
She focused her full attention on him, watching as he shifted back into reading his poem collection for the millionth time now.
A spark of indignation flashed across her features as she smiled 'sweetly' in his direction. "Is that so? Mh... I would love to see if you could try any better." Her eyes were closed shut, holding the sniper rifle raised in her hands.
V's casual countenance remained indifferent. "I can't utilize a Sankta firearm, however..." He pointed to one of the newly set-up targets by the shooting range's integrated systems. "...I could certainly guide you in making your rounds a degree more extravagant."
"...Excuse me?" Lemuen tilted her head with a curious expression, albeit one mired with a still faint surface of vindication.
"It's a competition, isn't it?" V moved behind the Sankta, almost shocking him as he positioned her arms on the firearm."As I said, I have no expertise in a Patron Firearm's Arts usages..." It sounded like he was lying, almost. "But I can aid you with my precision."
She eventually regained her composure as she tidied herself in the position she was in. In all honesty, the Sankta wasn't 'quite' complaining about the turn-of-events...
"Follow where I'm leading you, and fire when I tell you to," V's voice continued to guide her as he slowly directed her arms with moving the sniper rifle toward a moving target, slowly.
"Aren't you just so bold?" Lemuen mused playfully.
"Focus," he said. "On my mark..."
The Sankta could hear his voice start drawing out, her own anticipation stretched with it.
"And fire," he declared.
She hastily pulled the trigger, the round moving and decapitating the thin metal target's head. Just as it was falling to the ground, V pulled the lever back and the next round was chambered upward, moving her arms so she would... follow the already plummeting head?
"What are you—" Before she could finish, he spoke once more.
"Fire."
His voice was raised an octave higher as she instinctively pulled the trigger, the bullet soaring from the barreled maw with acrid smoke and a muzzle flash.
It made contact with the falling sheet, grazing against it and, quite literally, changing trajectories in the form of what looked to be a ricochet. It defied all odds and acted within the realm of impossibility, Lemuen's jaw slightly unhinged in awe.
He pulled the lever for her again, redirecting it, and then commanding: "Again."
The third shot followed the redirected bullet flying through the air, the gun's recoil pushing her against the chest of V. The shot continued to move and grazed the still moving bullet in the air, furthermore changing its trajectory whilst keeping its momentum in full swing, defying all notions of gravity.
Lemuen gasped. "How—?!"
"It seems my intuition was correct," V said with satisfaction, watching the bullet hit a second moving target, the alignment working just well enough for it to overpierce and nab a second target for its collection of victims.
Lemuen blinked more owlishly than before, mouth almost agape as she alternated staring at the white-haired man, and the targets he had just guided her in absolutely decimating. His guiding hand was the mastermind in manipulating a bullet's trajectory. She'd never seen anybody play with a bullet like he had, not even from Mr. Pozzo!
V then asked, "I have to ask, is style a category in the competition?"
"Forget that!" Lemuen called out, grabbing him by the shoulders. "How did you do it?" She brought his face closer, making V slightly surprised if his pupils were anything to go by. "You've never touched a firearm in your life, or taken any classes related to shooting, so..."
"It came naturally to me," V responded, glancing away and pulling his head back.
"Natural? You call that natural?" Lemuen asked with a miffed expression. "Come on, just spill it, you're secretly a Sankta, aren't you?" she half-joked.
"I'm sure there are enough signs that point to me not being such," V pointed out.
"I know, I know, it's just... how are you so talented?" Lemuen sighed, pulling away from him.
"I wasn't the one shooting the firearm on perfect cue. The high approbation goes to you, Lemuen."
"What do you mean?" she fumed, pressing her index finger against his chest."Do you think I could do some insane ricochet like that without help?"
V thinned his lips, glancing away. "Perhaps?"
Lemuen was about to say something, but then stopped herself. His response sparked a small, ingenious idea. "You really think so?"
"...If I could achieve that display, then I don't believe it would be beyond your capabilities to replicate."
"Heh. Alright." Lemuen nodded. "I won't pester you on how you were able to pull off that insane trickshot... but you better teach me how to do it as a recompense, okay~?" She poked him a few more times.
V heaved a sigh. "I would have taught you if you had simply asked me anyway. No strings needed."
"Ooh~ that means I can pester you freely, then?" She giggled.
"...Perhaps I should have stayed my tongue."
...
...
...
In the end, Lemuen never did figure out how V knew the directional angles of a firearm so well to pull off that absurd feat he had done. Though, it was not like it mattered much, because she had enough fun learning how to do the most ludicrous trickshots imaginable from the white-haired man.
The memories were a fond one.
***
A/N: Writing slice-of-life parts along with V's secret activities are honestly my favorite parts of this fic.
I head-canon that Vergil and Dante are just immediately skilled with every weapon they pick up, so that's why V was able to do some ridiculous aiming with a sniper rifle.
Currently working on updating Heavens Away, Heaven on a Landslide, Cometh the Hour, God's Other Half, God in the Machine, and Thus Beckons the Drowned Gods.
Check them out if you'd like.
Next chapter for this story is already out btw.