Chapter 25: Toward the Future

The STU had been defeated, its ambitions stopped from coming to fruition. But this did not mean that the status quo would remain unchanged, as many who took part in the battle were affected on a personal level, including the Nishizumi family.

The Nishizumi family held a family meeting in the living room of their home on the evening after the final defeat of the STU, with Shiho saying that even though the crisis had passed, she had learned that when it came to matters that were this important, she should not postpone dealing with them or make excuses. She knew that she had much to do to make amends to her family, but decided to begin with the first and most basic step- an apology to the family she had rarely treated as such.

"Thank you all for coming," Shiho said, no longer speaking with the commanding voice she used as head of the family, but one of a woman prepared to humble herself before her husband and daughters. "I realize that you, Shinji, have work, and that you, Miho and Maho, will likely have to return to school soon. Even so, I appreciate you putting the family first, something that I, for all my talk of duty, never did."

"What do you mean, Shiho?" Shinji said. "You've always been devoted to the family."

"Only with regards to upholding its tankery traditions," Shiho said, "I have considered it an organization with the presiding female head, her… 'consort' for lack of a better word, her heiress and her alternate heiress, rather than a mother, her husband and her two daughters. I did not treat you or the others with unconditional love, but with approval or disapproval based on how well you fulfilled your tasks. I cared more about your contributions to the family than your personal success or happiness."

"What exactly made you reconsider, Mother?" Miho said.

"It started when you defeated Maho in the last tournament finals," Shiho said. "Before, given that Maho was a satisfactory heiress, I did not think much of your potential, merely hoping you would serve dutifully as a best-case scenario, and fearing what disgrace you might bring to the family as a worst-case scenario. I blamed you for the loss against Pravda. When you started up the tankery team again, I feared you might blemish the family reputation again if you were defeated, or if you succeeded with an unconventional style. When you faced Maho in the finals, I merely saw you as yet another enemy she had to defeat. At no point did I consider that you raised a team of inexperienced recruits to win in the face of overwhelming odds, but even after you won, I did not fully realize its significance."

Shiho paused before continuing, and neither her husband nor her daughters said anything.

"There were two other people out there like me- the father of the Shirosame Academy commander, as well as Ohtori Yamato, head of the Ohtori school," Shiho said. "Both thrust their expectations on their children and reacted harshly when they failed to live up to their standards, yet I did not see the similarity between them and myself, even as their conduct disgusted me- more for what I saw as arrogance than for their mistreatment of those whom they should have considered family."

"But the counterparts we encountered were often significantly different from us," Miho said.

"And yet, they were the same where it counted, and it took me a more painful lesson to realize this, which happened just before the final battle" Shiho said. "The Patriarch possessed my husband. My eldest daughter, the one I had always trusted and expected to obey me, spoke out against me for the first time. And the fate of tankery itself lay in the hands of you, my youngest daughter, whom I had been so reluctant to trust, blind to your true strength. If we won, it would likely not be the way I would have chosen to do tankery. And if we lost, I would have lost everything I valued most until then."

Shiho allowed a moment to let that sink in.

"Being forced to consider a world in which our family no longer had our reputation in tankery forced me to consider- in that case, what would I have left?" Shiho said. "A husband I married out of duty, two children who were judged by how they did tankery. Once that was taken from me, I would be left as a lonely woman with a broken family."

"But that didn't happen, Mother," Miho said. "The STU has been defeated, Father is free of the Patriarch's control, and their vision for Tankery will never come to fruition."

"Yes, Miho, but it was thanks to your and Maho's actions, rather than mine," Shiho said. "All I could do was wait within the book, tormented by being reminded of all the wrongs I had committed."

"No different than I was," Shinji said. "The Patriarch used my body, hoping to use me to unseat the family I had devoted myself to out of duty rather than love. Like you, dear, I would have been left with nothing had he succeeded, and it forced me to realize how much I had thrown away, and how much I had repeated to myself the same excuse- I 'had' to do the things I did, without considering the true implications of my actions, or if there was any other way."

"How long was the Patriarch controlling you, Father?" Miho said, sounding almost hopeful that her father's actions had been ruled by the Patriarch's will.

"Starting from at some point after you won the tournament, Miho," Shinji said, "While he only openly took control after the Corrupter's failure, he lay dormant in my mind, subtly controlling me for brief periods, before then and after the previous tournament. Ergo, in regards to the question I believe you were getting at, virtually all of my decisions concerning you as your father- my mistakes- were my own."

"While the Patriarch was inside my mind, somehow communicating with me, he forced me to see my actions in a new light. I doubt he had any goals besides taunting me, or that he ever intended to return control to me, but he drove home the fact that everything I did was out of duty, rather than love. The reasons I gave for my actions came off as hollow excuses to him, and as a result, to myself."

Maho pondered what she had heard. She still resented her parents for what they expected out of her, what she hoped Miho would not have to endure, but hearing them speak so honestly about their new perspective on what they had taken for granted forced her to think, and also to take a new perspective on what she had done.

"When I think about it…" Maho said. "Although my reasons were different, in the end, I, too, only went down the path I was 'expected' to follow, continuing the cycle not unlike you did. Miho was the one who made her own decisions and blazed her own trail."

"That was after spending so long thinking I had no choice but to do tankery the Nishizumi way," Miho said, "and then running away from tankery rather than trying anything else when it appeared that I could only continue by going against my own desires. If there is a lesson here for us, it's that even if you've done something a long time due to not knowing any other way, whether for years or generations, it's never too late to change your ways."

Maho nodded, recalling her battle with the Ohtori school. Faced with an unknown enemy, and unsure of her ways, she had chosen to do things similar to Miho's way.

"Yes," Shiho said. "It may have taken longer than it should have, but from here on out, there will be a new beginning for the Nishizumi family."

Kikuyo knelt outside the living room, having heard much of the conversation. There were times when she lamented not being able to do more for the family due to being a maid who was expected to do as she was told- nothing more and nothing less. There were many counterarguments she mentally came up to in response to that line of thought, and the one she found most convincing was that it would be up to the Nishizumis themselves to rethink how they related as a family.

Having heard enough, and needing to speak to her mistress as part of her duties, Kikuyo knocked on the door.

"Enter," Shiho said.

"Pardon me, mistress, but shall I begin the preparations for dinner?" Kikuyo said, in a pleasant mood.

"Yes, please do," Shiho said warmly. "It has been a while since we've eaten as a family."

A single meeting and a family dinner was not enough to undo nearly twenty years' worth of mistakes in parenting, nor would it immediately provide Shiho with the insights of how to run the Nishizumi school with the lessons she had learned and while looking out for her family. But all the Nishizumis came away with a newfound resolve to improve relations in the family, and with a new mindset as to how they should treat each other.

The Nishizumis' familial relations were not the only thing that changed over the long term; they also had to deal with gradual changes to tankery, as the tankery community had witnessed four battles in which males had played against- as well as alongside- females. Some cynically concluded that the males of the STU being defeated served as proof that males contributed little to the sport. But to others, their participation had opened a door that could never be fully closed again, and would likely lead to boys entering tankery. Even those who objected to boys entering tankery as a matter of principle had to concede that they could not sweep the debate under the rug with that argument alone, and some came to question tankery's status as an entirely female sport.

There was much debate in the tankery community over the issue of including boys in tankery. Some argued that there was no compelling reason to exclude boys from tankery. Others argued that the status quo was good as it was, that tankery was established as- and should remain- a girl's sport, and that too few boys were interested. Yet another debate arose in response to the latter arguments, debating whether a separate sport for women was a good thing in a nation and a world in which so many fields were dominated by men, or whether it was no better than those areas who excluded women or put them at a disadvantage. A small but vocal minority argued that including boys might embolden those like the STU, in a "camel's nose" situation, but most agreed that the STU's failure showed how unrealistic their hopes had been.

Another faction arose, proposing the creation of a separate tankery competition for boys. Supporters called the proposal a good way of making tankery accessible to both genders without removing the benefits for girls, as well as including boys without compromising on the traditions for female tankery. Opponents, excluding those who saw that as too much or not enough male inclusion, said it was disingenuous, having the potential to relegate boys to a second-rate competition, if not one that would ultimately prove a non-starter.

After much debate, during which Shiho surprised many of the other heads of relatively traditional tankery schools by coming out in support of males in tankery, a tentative decision was reached in time for the next national high school tournament. The tankery federation ruled that, at least for the year, boys would be permitted to serve alongside the girls, out of fairness to Oarai and the other schools that had recently become coed. The entire world was watching the tournament, itself a story for another day, and while some noted that the presence of a single male in Oarai's team did not make much of a case for including males, fewer were inclined to regard having males in tankery as completely out of the question. While many saw the newly coed Oarai's second tournament victory as a step forward for including males in tankery, it would take years for the other nations that did tankery to follow suit, particularly those with longer running traditions and influential factions in favor of the status quo, and the debates played out in many different forums and with regards to many different facets of the issue.

Change had begun to occur, but it would take a long time to implement. But while Miho, Garai and the others had made their mark on the debate, their participation, on a high school level, would soon come to an end.

A few months after her second tournament victory, Miho sat in the planning room, thinking back on the time she had spent in tankery, while waiting for the girl she was meeting with to arrive.

She had to wonder what would become of the club once she graduated. The entirety of Anglerfish Team, Turtle Team, Mallard Team and Hippo Team were leaving, and all the other teams besides Rabbit Team would lose at least one member to graduation. Indeed, Miho had to wonder- why had Oarai's tankery club shut down 21 years ago, despite its success? How was it possible to keep a team going year after year, when it was a task greater than one that could be handled by a single student or generation of students?

The Student Council decided to continue the incentives, partly out of fairness to those who had joined in hopes of gaining them, and partly to attract new recruits. Miho hoped that there would be more newcomers with tankery experience who would come to Oarai now that it had won two tournaments. Miho also hoped that Garai's participation in the tankery team would help gradually dispel the taboos related to boys participating in tankery.

Miho realized that she was essentially hoping for the future, and while her time as commander was nearly at an end, there was one last thing she could do- choose an individual she could entrust with the future of tankery at Oarai.

Moments later, the girl Miho had asked to see arrived in the room.

"You wanted to discuss something with me, Commander?" Azusa said.

"That's correct, Sawa-san," Miho said. "I've been thinking about next year, and I have a question for you- would you like to be commander, not just of Rabbit Team, but the entire Oarai tankery team?"

Azusa's mouth gaped open in shock.

"M-me, Commander?" she said. "I feel like my team and I are always causing you trouble. In our first battle we panicked and ran out of our tank. We kept getting taken out in others. Meanwhile, you're shooting the flag tanks, coming up with the game-winning strategies, and doing everything we can't."

"You have come a long way from where you started," Miho said. "You've gotten better at driving your tank, you've grown braver and more determined, and you have a good relationship with your team. That speaks to a great deal of effort, commitment and potential, good qualities in those I would entrust with our team's future."

"I know what you're saying, Commander," Azusa said. "But it's still such a heavy responsibility. We defeated the STU, saved the school and won two tournaments, but I'm not sure I can lead the team to victory next year."

"Maybe you can't, but maybe that's not such a bad thing," Miho said. "As a former Black Forest student, I can tell that the school's nine-year winning streak led to those outside it thinking that they couldn't win, and those inside it thinking they had to win, which wasn't always pleasant for either group. Breaking that streak made things more open for people, and now that people aren't so sure who's going to win the tournament, it's become more exciting."

Azusa considered what Miho had said. She had spoken with Yukari after Anchovy brought up the incident in which Miho had cost Black Forest its tenth consecutive victory by saving one of her team's tanks, which cast her saving Rabbit Team in a new light. Now that Miho had cost Black Forest the championship this year and the last- by defeating them in battle- she had opened the field to competition.

But while Oarai had won two consecutive tournaments in its first two years back in the tankery competition, did it have to win a third? Miho, who had found the Nishizumi school's expectations too difficult to meet, did not want to raise the bar too high for her successor. And Miho, who always believed some things were more important than victory, did not wish to see Oarai become a school that valued victory above all else.

"So please don't feel as though you have to extend our winning streak or live up to my legacy, Sawa-san," Miho said. "Just do what you've always done, give our opponents some good games, and above all else, have fun, win or lose."

"I'll do my best, Nishizumi-senpai!" Azusa said.

Miho's time as commander for Oarai's tank team had come to an end, and she felt she had done what she could to ensure the club would continue in her absence. As she stepped away from her desk, she wondered if this feeling of letting go was the same that the outgoing student council or their predecessors had felt.

"Is something wrong, President?" Haruka asked Yukino as she sat in her chair in the student council room.

"At the start of my high school career, I found it hard to imagine that I'd ever end up sitting in this chair," Yukino said. "Now, at the end of it, I find myself having difficulty imagining leaving."

"Ah yes, just when we'd gotten used to running the place," Haruka said. "And just when we'd gotten about as good as our senpais at manning the Hetzer, we're going to pass it off to a new crew that will come next year."

"Some times are easy to lead, and others are difficult," Shizune said. "We haven't had the easiest circumstances, with a school that had changed a great deal, but we did the best we could, and I think we can be proud of that."

Yukino heard a knock on the door, one that she had been expecting for some time.

"Ah, I think that's them," Yukino said. "Come in, please!"

Two girls and a boy entered, all of them first-years and the victorious candidates for the new Oarai student council.

"Welcome, and congratulations on your victory," Yukino said.

"Thank you very much, Hakamichi-senpai," Nosaka Keiko, the president-elect, said, as she and her fellow members did to the ones they would replace. The three had triumphed in the election with a 58% majority over the opposition. A much-discussed part of the race was that both sides had boys as candidates for posts, which would mean that whichever side won, at least one boy would set a record as the first at his post in Oarai's history. Both sides also put forth their plans to modify and improve upon the campus to better acclimatize the male students to it, and more students were in favor of Keiko's more widespread and comprehensive proposed changes.

"Do you have any advice, senpais?" Mikuni Kouchi, vice president and the male member of the administration said.

"You've got a lot of work ahead of you," Haruka said. "But you also should keep in mind that it doesn't end with you, not even if you come back next year as well. The Kadotani administration enabled the school to keep running. We worked to help it adjust to the changes. Now it's up to you to do what you can to continue our work, and make this a good school for boys and girls."

"Will do, Vice President!" Fujino Shiina, the new public relations rep, said.

"Haruka isn't vice president anymore," Shizune said. "That job now belongs to Mikuni-kun, and my job is now yours." She then turned to the others on the now former student council. "I think that covers about everything; our replacements have things figured out. Isn't that right, Yukino?"

"Yes; let's get going, Haruka, Shizune," Yukino said, stepping away from the desk as a now former member of the student council, soon to be former student of Oarai. "There's one last duty for me to do."

"All right, that's about it!" Noriko said.

Noriko, along with the rest of her team had finished packing up after a game of volleyball for fun, squeezing in one last game before the graduation ceremony.

"It's been quite an interesting three years, hasn't it?" Noriko said.

"Captain, are you sure you're alright with this?" Akebi said with a look of concern on her face. "You had hoped to get the volleyball team going again, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did," Noriko said. "It started when I was a first-year; when the three of you were in your last year of middle school. The entire team- what was left of it- was composed of third-years, so I was the only one left once they graduated. Wanting to do something but not having people to do it with sucks."

"It certainly does," Shinobu said. "I believe Nishizumi-senpai said something similar once."

"But then you three came along, and I realized I had people who shared that passion," Noriko continued. "It's too bad that at that point, the Student Council stepped in, told us they were shutting down the club, and to add insult to injury, told us that they were starting up a new tankery program. Back then, I didn't understand why they had money for tankery but not our club, but I concluded that if I participated in tankery and did well, I could negotiate for the revival of our club. Sounds like a silly reason for me to get involved."

"For us to get involved," Taeko said. "Whatever you did, Captain, we were willing to follow you." Shinobu and Akebi nodded in agreement

Noriko smiled. "But even if that side venture never got us what we wanted, we sure had some good times. It was still the four of us, representing our school in a competition, even if it was in tankery rather than volleyball," she said. "We- or at least I- learned how to love even the Type 89, and to keep going and push ourselves farther even though we were a bunch of amateurs with nothing but pure enthusiasm and guts going for us. But there's no three enthusiastic and gutsy amateurs I'd rather have done this with, and I thank all of you for the good memories- it's been a real pleasure."

"The pleasure is ours, captain!" the three of them said together.

Noriko always knew that she couldn't necessarily make a career out of volleyball; she had chosen to work towards a career in physical therapy for that reason. She had also heard that tankery was a path to help those who took it in whatever career they chose- from military officers, to housewives, to career women. Whatever path lay ahead of her, she hoped to find new people with whom she could walk it, as well as staying in touch with the ones she had met.

As Yuuki watched the Disciplinary Committee members and other students setting up the auditorium for graduation, she thought back to two years ago, when she and Kenji had pledged to keep in touch, a pledge that lasted less than a year. She knew that the halfway point of her high school career was behind her, but she had to wonder. Where would she be two years from now? Where would she be at this point next year?

"Hi, Yuuki," Saori said.

"Hello, senpai," Yuuki said. "Congratulations on your graduation."

"Thanks," Saori said.

"Any luck on finding a boyfriend?" Yuuki said.

Saori sighed and shook her head. She had long since realized that fabricating stories about her love life was useless. "Nope," she said.

"I see… sorry to hear that," Yuuki said sympathetically.

"I could blame the rules, guys that don't like tankery, or this being a girls-only school until this year, or even the rules against relationships," Saori said. "But rather than complain about things not being in my favor, I'd rather push forward and eventually meet someone special in spite of them, just like how we overcame unfavorable odds in the past."

"Azusa-chan said the same thing in reference to becoming commander," Yuuki said. "Difficult battles await us in tankery and in love, and we might not always be able to win. But I don't feel as though things are hopeless, or I'm entirely at the mercy of others' actions."

"That's good to hear," Saori said. "I'll be wishing you the best of luck, then."

For those who remained where they were and for those who advanced onward, much had changed and much remained uncertain.

Finally, the graduation ceremony came, with the graduating third years packed into the auditorium, along those who came to see them off. The ceremony began with remarks by the principal, as well as by Yukino, the outgoing student council president, congratulating the Oarai graduated and giving them advice that would serve them well on whichever path they chose to follow in life.

"Next is the valedictorian, Reizei Mako-san," Yukino said, after finishing her address. Mako walked down the aisle and climbed the steps to the podium.

Saori could not help but smile. She always knew Mako had the talent and the intelligence to climb to the top. And while she could hardly imagine Mako giving a speech, she had grown used to the concept, after Mako had spent some time practicing the relatively brief speech in front of her. Mako had said that while she was reluctant, as Saori had said, it was a message she believed was important to her, one that she wanted others to come to realize more easily than she had.

Mako cleared her throat and began.

"There was a time when I hoped someone else would overtake me in the rankings so that I wouldn't have to get up here and do a speech like this," Mako said. "But if I hadn't taken tankery despite my initial reluctance, I might not be a third-year right now, due in part to my being tardy almost every day, when punctuality is something expected as a matter of course."

Mako paused and looked over the audience, listening to laughter. But after a few seconds of respectful silence, which Mako believed was indicative of them understanding what she was trying to say, she continued.

"School isn't an easy process for everyone," Mako said. "Some of you might have difficulty performing at the level required by the school or expected by others, for one reason or another. Others might have difficulty keeping up with the workload. Others might find it difficult to sit through several hours of class per day. Still others, like myself, have trouble waking up in the morning and getting to school on time. But school, however much we dislike it, is beneficial to us; we have learned much from it, even if we don't realize its significance at first beyond taking adults' word for it. The same goes for many other things you will experience in your life, which may seem unpleasant at first, but will often prove beneficial in spite of that."

Mako was unsure whether her speech was long enough, but she believed she had said almost everything she wished to, and moved toward the conclusion.

"So I have one piece of advice out there for all you graduates," Mako said, nearing the end of her speech. "Sometimes, that which is hardest for you is also that which is best for you. You may not always succeed, but you're almost certain to learn something about yourself and maybe, just maybe, have fun in the process. Thank you."

Mako stepped down from the podium to the applause of those in attendance. Yukino then resumed the podium.

"Next up is a student who is due special recognition from the school. She has accomplished much in her tenure in the tankery club at this school, winning the championship twice, saving the school from closure, and saving tankery itself. But she has also served as an inspiration to others, by challenging conventions, seeing the true potential in people, and never losing sight of what matters most. Ladies and gentlemen, I present Oarai's tankery commander, Nishizumi Miho-san."

Miho walked up to the podium to cheers and applause from the crowd.

"Hello, everyone," Miho said. Public speaking was still difficult for her, but she understood how she could achieve the most success- by speaking simply and sincerely, calling on her past experiences.

"A great deal has changed in the past year. Many of you have returned to a school that is different in many ways from the previous year, mostly in having boys. Many of you here are relatively new, not just the freshmen who arrived this year or those who transferred midway through it. Perhaps you had been attending another high school until circumstances forced you to leave, or you chose to come here. I know, because I was there once. I came to this school while running away, in an attempt to leave tankery behind- in my mind, any school would do as long as it did not have tankery."

In retrospect, Miho thought that if she had approached a guidance counselor or high school admissions official, requesting to find a school without tankery, her request would have seemed very strange indeed. Some sought out a school with a strong tankery program, while others focused on the extracurricular activity of their choice, if academics were not their sole concern. Why, then, would people seek out Oarai? Miho had often wondered that, especially after Momo had told her that Oarai was being threatened with being shut down because it did not stand out from or excel above other schools. But even a school that did not seem particularly attractive to prospective students or viable for education officials still had value for those attending school and working at it. To others, it might not seem special, but to them, it was their school, and theirs to cherish and protect.

"Over time, however, I rejoined tankery, learned to love it again, made friends, and began to call this school home. And that is why I was willing to fight to keep it open in the tournament last year, when I learned that its very existence was on the line. I wanted to keep this community together, to keep those who had formed friendships with each other together at the same school, to enable those who loved the school to return the following year or graduate knowing that others would be able to come here. I felt this way because I felt I was one of those people, and no different from the rest of you in that I was a part of the Oarai community."

Miho paused as she briefly reflected on the fact that many of the boys were not so fortunate, as Anzu had said. Perhaps they had never had an opportunity to save their school, or they had one and failed to do what they needed to do. But while some of them had no choice in whether to stay in their now defunct schools, she had once thought she had no choice but to leave tankery, and the time came to address them.

"And so I say to you- I know that this school may not be the first high school you attended, or your first choice. In spite of that, I will hope you come to see it as more than a temporary detour or a substitute for the one you would have attended, but as the place you went to school, your alma mater. Whether your time here will continue next year or has come to an end, I hope you will cherish it, the memories you've acquired, and the connections you've made while you're here. I'm grateful to all the people I met while I was here and will look back fondly on the time that I spent at Oarai Academy. Thank you all for everything, and please remember- always find a way to keep moving forward."

As Miho concluded her speech and stepped down, the crowd applauded. She then lined up, along with all the other graduates, and received her diploma, proof of her completion of her two years at Oarai.

"Congratulations, Miho-sama," Kikuyo said, then produced her digital camera. "I have a picture of you up on the podium, and of you accepting your diploma."

"Those look quite nice, Kikuyo-san," Miho said.

"Mistress, master, Maho-sama, are you ready?"

"Yes," Shiho said, after the Nishizumi family had moved into position. Kikuyo then took a picture of them together.

Miho looked at the photo of her family together, all smiling.

"It looks great!" she said enthusiastically.

Kikuyo glanced over to the side, where Shinzaburou was taking a picture of Hana and her mother. The Akiyamas, the Reizeis and the Takebes had already finished.

"I'd like another one with Hana-san and the others," Miho said.

The five members of Anglerfish team, together with Yukari, gathered around, as Kikuyo took another picture.

Miho looked over the photos, which she knew she would add to those she had on her desk, along with her first photo of the original Anglerfish Team, along with the photo she wished she had taken of herself, Hitomi, Chihiro and Emi.

A great deal had changed in the past year. And while the less than pleasant memories remained- a necessary process, Miho concluded, in order to remember the mistakes were made and how far one had come- Miho hoped to create many new memories with the family in the years to come, and chronicle them in means such as the family photo album.

"It's been quite a journey," Miho said. "But I'm really glad I came to Oarai."

That night, Garai returned home to his apartment, and began the nightly routine he had kept up for the last few months. As a substitution for the familiar routine of writing reports to the STU, as well as the various assignments he had been given, he had taken to keeping a diary. But this was for no one's sake but his own, to chronicle his day-to-day experiences and the changes in his life.

There was much to adjust to, in the coming days, months and years. He and his friends would be going on to college, to separate universities suited to their chosen fields of study. Tankery itself was in the process of changing, and many, besides him would be watching over it for years to come. Garai was aware that in the couse of those years, many of his friends would one day give up tankery, whether because they no longer had the time to do it, their influence had waned, or they had accomplished what they wished out of it. But he knew that his friends still cared a great deal for the sport they had once participated in, and had fought to protect. They, like he, had enjoyed it greatly, and wanted others to be able to enjoy it in the same way in the years to come, even if it was not entirely the same as the way they had done it while in high school.

At that moment, a new idea arose in his mind, one that he quickly committed to writing in his diary. Change could be good or bad. But it happened, and it happened at its own pace. Garai's life had changed a great deal from when he arrived at Oarai as a spy, and left as a member of the school community. He had turned from the path of the mission that had been his life's work, but had made friends, found a passion in tankery, and thwarted the plans of his former employers. Given how much his life had changed in the past year, Garai had to wonder how much it would change in the years to come, but vowed that he would be the author of whatever changes came to pass.

Garai then tucked himself into bed, closing his eyes and eagerly awaiting what tomorrow would bring.

Author's Note

Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting and following this fic.

The "camel's nose" refers to a camel who asks to put his nose in his master's tent, then keeps putting more and more of himself in until his master is forced from the tent. It's a somewhat insidious argument against including a group of people that plays on people's paranoia, but one that those who don't want boys in tankery would likely resort to.

I decided to skip over the following tournament, since it would likely be more or less a repeat of the first one, and to focus on the longer-term developments. Graduation seemed like a good time to end the story. A theme I wanted to display here is that the work of the student council in keeping Oarai running is by no means finished as of the end of the year, but they, like their predecessors, have to entrust it to their successors.

Azusa seemed the most logical choice as a successor as team commander, given that she was the only commander of a tank who would still be there come the next year, and Rabbit Team had improved the most. Miho would likely value her attitude as important to keeping the group together, and likely hope that experienced tankers would come the following year to help with strategy.

Granted, Oarai's team will face a great deal of turnover, but this was in large part an intentional decision to raise the question of what the future would hold for Oarai. Like Miho did here, I had to wonder- why did Oarai's tankery program shut down in spite of its relative success 20 years ago? And will Oarai necessarily be able to keep up its record of success?

The story's complete, but if you're interested in an accessible Girls und Panzer/Saki crossover, please check out my ongoing fic, "Necessary to Win."

Ending Theme: A parade of the alliance tanks.