Masae 12: Blazing A New Trail
"This may seem like a strange question, Instructor Nishizumi," Masae said, "but have you ever felt the need to justify the Nishizumi school's ideology or track record to others?"
Shiho shrugged. She realized that while she knew being head of the Nishizumi school was a heavy burden, as was upholding its status as the best tankery school, she had never thought of it in the terms Masae had just used.
"Perhaps Grandmother did at one point," Shiho said, "but the Nishizumi School has grown and become prestigious enough so that we can more easily ask only for those who are willing and able to advance our cause. Because of the efforts of those who have helped us reach that point, and for the sake of continuing as we are now, I do what I do."
Masae paused, with a resigned expression on her face. Perhaps this, more than anything else, explained the blunt and unapologetic tone of Shiho's descriptions of her past actions. Masae knew that if she had displayed that attitude at any point, she would have found herself without crucial support. Perhaps Shiho was arrogant because she could count on the support of others... or perhaps she had to exude confidence in order to keep their support.
"I thought so," Masae said. "When I had to go around to gather the necessary support and recruit the people I needed, I had to essentially explain my school's mission to all of them, to let them know that they would benefit by helping me, and that they would not be throwing good money after bad. I'm used to talking about myself, what I hope to accomplish, and my school, to anyone who asks, whether possible business partners, prospective students, reporters, or people who simply would like to know more."
Maho nodded, remembering all the times she had to answer questions from reporters. Most of her answers were scripted and to the point, echoing the Nishizumi school's official line. Doing so had become second nature to her, and she developed a knack for telling people the answers they wanted to hear, and knowing when others were doing the same to her.
But while she had become aware of the fact that people were not always honest with her, and she was not always being true to herself, Maho understood the importance of putting her best foot forward well enough to not become cynical about the process. The same went for Masae, whose primary disagreements with the Nishizumi school were not based on the principles, but the belief that the Nishizumis took them too far, past he point at which they were beneficial.
"From a pragmatic point of view, this forced me to focus at least somewhat on the results," Masae said. "From an idealistic point of view, I realize that I'm indebted to many people and their help. I referenced many of those people in the school's website, as well as in the Acknowledgments section of my book."
Shiho nodded. She had heard of the story behind the establishment of the school in one article on Masae, so she hoped for a more personal angle.
"Let's go back to just before Hiroe was born," Masae said. "Around this time, Sakura, one of my former teammates, was looking for work, and was willing to serve as a maid. I believe I mentioned her before."
"Yes, you did," Shiho said.
"Just a question before I begin, Instructor Nishizumi," Masae said. "I met Kagurazaki Kikuyo-san, one of your maids. How would you describe the relationship you have with her?"
"She takes my orders, much as she did when she was my student," Shiho said. "I do my best to provide a good working environment for her, but neither of us pretends, even for a moment, that we're anything close to equals. She will always regard me as her teacher, if not her mistress, and I will judge her by her ability to do her job."
Masae nodded.
"I've always known that some relationships will never be equal,"Ma
19 years ago
Masae and Sakura finished what could be considered Sakura's final job interview, and had signed the papers indicating Sakura's employment.
"Well, then, I think that concludes things," Masae said. "I'm happy to have your help, Sakura."
"It is my honor, Mistress," Sakura said.
Masae sighed slightly.
"Ah, it seems there's one more thing to sort out," Masae said. "Please do not call me 'Mistress'. I may employ you, but I don't own you."
"I understand…" Sakura said, trailing off.
"Masae," Masae said.
"Very well, Masae-sama," Sakura said.
"That works, although it seems a bit formal," Masae said.
"It's meant to be," Sakura said. "Masae-sama, class distinctions may not be as clear as they once were, but there are certain relationships that can never be equal. If you aspire to be a teacher of others, you will have to acknowledge this, as well as the role you play in your students' lives."
"I understand," Masae said. "But at the same time, I believe that people of a 'lower' status should not be exploited, looked down upon, or helped as a means of helping their betters feel better about themselves."
Sakura nodded.
A few minutes later, Sakura had finalized the paperwork, and was prepared to start as a maid for the Atago family. She then parted ways with Masae to head back home.
"I will see you Monday, Sakura; have a nice weekend," Masae said reflexively, as if she were seeing off a friend.
Sakura, in spite of being unwilling to consider Masae a friend, smiled.
"Thank you, Masae-sama," she said.
Present day
"Sakura taught me a lesson about a harsh but inevitable truth back then," Masae said. "As well as I treated her, our relationship was still that of superior and subordinate, however we chose to classify it. What I could do, however, was treat her well, and set a good example for my children."
Shiho pondered how Masae had pleasantly interacted with their servers over the past few days. Perhaps Masae was doing it as a show of good behavior, but it seemed reflexive enough to be her natural mode of behavior.
"That said, my cousins do have their own modes of interacting with Sakura," Hiroko said. "Hiroe's the sort who doesn't think anything of casually chatting with her, venting about her problems or so forth, while inviting her to do the same; Sakura's about as close to a friend to her as someone in her position can be. Kinue's more formal and respectful, essentially treating her as she would an elder."
"So do you require respect from your students, Instructor Atago?" Miho said. Asserting her authority was the main thing that Masae did that Miho could not, so she was curious how she did that in ways that Shiho did not.
"I do," Masae said. "Students are to address me as 'Instructor Atago,' or 'ma'am,' and are also told to call Hiroe and my other assistants 'Assistant Instructor'. Failing to heed our orders is cause for disciplinary action, including expulsion for those who fit certain criteria, such as multiple severe offenses."
The rest of the table went silent for a moment. They were hearing the woman who established a school, and who commanded others. Masae did not have Shiho's ruthless drive for victory, but she believed that she had the final word when it came to her school, and her orders were to be obeyed.
"I do have a question, Instructor Atago," Maho said. "Does this apply to Hiroe?"
"It does," Masae said. "I will get to her soon, but one thing to keep in mind is that the first class was one in which I, both overtly and implicitly, established my school's standards. I found it easier to be somewhat strict at first and loosen up as I felt it appropriate, as well as to be as clear as possible about my expectations."
A chapter of Masae's book discussed the role her daughters played. While it was outdated, it did indicate that Hiroe had chosen to work toward inheriting the school. Masae had made it clear that when Hiroe started working for her, she had kept a close eye on her, hoping to identify any potential problems and nip them in the bud. She mentioned that a few of her other subordinates had suggested that she was overly strict with Hiroe. Over time, as Hiroe had proven herself, Masae began to relax somewhat, keeping an appropriate professional distance at work but also allowing time for them to spend as mother and daughter. She kept expectations high, but let Hiroe know she was proud of her when she met them.
Masae did sometimes wonder if she was bragging about her children, but she was also open about their flaws- for Hiroe, it was pride, and for Kinue, it was a tendency to go along with others, especially her sister, instead of thinking for herself. Above all else, she believed that while boasting about one's accomplishments was arrogant, false modesty was almost sycophantic. She had seen her fair share of parents who had tried to downplay their children's potential to curry favor with her, and made it clear that she did not see that as a point in their favor.
"Still," Masae continued, "I did want to make it clear, from the very beginning, that this was not like the Nishizumi school. Those who wanted to push themselves to their absolute limit should apply there; we were for those who were willing to try hard, but who wouldn't necessarily be suited to the Nishizumi style."
14 years ago
Masae looked herself over in the mirror, shortly before her school's first convocation would start. She wore a navy blue suit with a matching necktie, one that she had worn to many of the preliminary meetings to set up her school. She considered it a priority to look her best when meeting with people to ask for their help, and believed that the students also deserved the same approach. Just as she wanted to make a good impression on her benefactors, she wanted to show her students that she was respectable.
Masae had extensively planned for years. Her ideals about tankery had formed while in high school. Her university years had been spent learning how to manage and teach. While married and raising children, she had laid the groundwork for the school. And now, with the school set up, she was ready to teach her first classes.
A part of her still felt uneasy. She had a great deal of experience, had commanded before, and had even found herself mentoring some of the younger members of her teams, but this was something else entirely. She would be playing a role in shaping an entire group of people's ideas about tankery, and supervising others.
But Masae reminded herself that this was what she had set out to do- to be an inspiration to others, and train them to win without losing sight of what they hoped to accomplish. Her doubt would never disappear completely, but as long as she did not dismiss it out of hand or forget where she had come from, she would not become arrogant.
The class was full of students, most of whom were ten to twelve years old. The girls wore the uniform of the Atago school, a white dress shirt with a navy blue blazer, skirt and necktie, with the Atago School's logo, a tank with the kanji for the name "Atago" on it. Masae had chosen the uniform because it not only resembled the dress uniforms of the JSDF, but also because it resembled the suit and tie women might wear to a civilian workplace.
Masae, looking over the orderly and quiet rows of students, was reminded of a school assembly. Out of a desire to avoid overly complicated etiquette, Masae had decided to forgo asking students to salute, merely asking for them to bow.
After getting her students' attention, Masae began to speak.
"Good afternoon, everyone," Masae said. "I am Instructor Atago Masae, and I thank you all for signing up to the initial class of the Atago Tankery School. Learning about tankery is a journey, and I hope that it will be the first step on your journey through tankery. I hope that when you graduate from this program, you will continue to learn more about- as well as love- tankery in the future, with your skills enabling you to reach greater heights and succeed in your endeavors."
Masae paused as she realized she was getting to a less pleasant, but ultimately still necessary, part of her speech- the part in which she described what she wanted of them. She had made her school's mission clear, but wanted to confirm that her students were committed to it.
"I will be honest with you," Masae said. "I have high expectations for you. Since the process of improving yourself through tankery is for your own good, it is thus best for you if you give nothing less than your full efforts. This process is also one that you cannot go through alone, so I expect you to respect me, as well as your fellow students. Your classmates share your goals, and you will need to work well with your crewmates regardless of what you hope to accomplish."
Masae paused again, letting that sink in. There were some things she planned to teach students, such as how to operate the tanks, but others that they would have to find themselves. Today, they wore the uniform of her school, but she knew that a decade or more down the road, they would fulfill many different roles- soldiers, career women, wives, mothers, some combination of the above or any number of others. Their paths would be their own, and she hoped tankery would help them walk those paths to a successful conclusion
"But ultimately, some questions are ones you will have to answer for yourselves," Masae said. "Why are you doing tankery? What role will it play in your life? My role is to give you some idea of the questions you should be asking yourselves, and to help teach you the skills that you need to find those answers. Your role is to ask those questions and find those answers. Can I count on you to do so?"
"Yes, ma'am!" The crowd called out enthusiastically.
Masae nodded approvingly. So far, many of them had little more than enthusiasm going for them, but she believed that as long as they had that, they would be able to acquire everything else they needed to succeed at tankery and life in general.
Present day
"The first class was a good size," Masae said. "Among the class were many people who were disillusioned by the Nishizumis' ruthless methods, or who wouldn't have fit in among them. One of the better students had flunked out of the Nishizumi school a year before she came."
Miho nodded, wondering if her classmates might have fit in at the Atago School, since few had even the potential of becoming good Nishizumi-style practitioners.
"As for the classes themselves, we covered the basics relatively quickly," Masae said, "in order to allow students to get to the more useful- and fun- part of getting practical experience."
"Other parts of the curriculum are less strict than the Nishizumi School," Masae said. "Students are formed into groups and shuffled around throughout their time there, in the hopes of getting used to working with each other. Students' ranks in the class are not officially disclosed, although certain students are recognized for their achievements."
"But of course, we do have rules, albeit fairly standard ones for the most part," Hiroe said. "Students have to wear uniforms, and the instructors have to wear suits. You have to show up on time to every class, and have a good explanation for the times when you can't. If you don't meet our standards for behavior or performance, we'll show you the door. There are a few others, but these are the most obvious."
Miho solemnly nodded. She was all too familiar to strict standards from her childhood, but there was always something sobering about being told about expectations like those. Her teammates at Oarai had performed well, but would a time come when she would have to bench under-performing players, or tell potential recruits that they were not skilled enough to be of use to the team?
"Don't look so worried, Miho," Hiroe said. "They're really not anything you'd have to be worried about. You'd just need to buy a uniform, learn how to tie a necktie, and get used to calling Mom, the other instructors and I by our titles, but since you have the talent and the attitude, you're 95 percent there. Once you do that, you'll fit right in at the Refresher Course, and could probably even teach your classmates a thing or two."
"Hiroe put it quite nicely," Masae said. "Oarai, at least as they are now, would fit in well, although I do have to wonder how they would have turned out if I had taught them from the outset. I do expect my students to learn what I teach them and conduct themselves appropriately, but I have no desire to create an ivory tower."
"Whatever your standards may be, there will always be those who fail to meet them," Shiho said. "I've seen some students come into the Nishizumi school who underestimate what we expect of them, and their time there almost never ends well."
Masae nodded.
"Maybe so, Instructor Nishizumi, but that isn't always the case," Masae said. "Do you remember Takahashi Aiko? She was a student who got off to a less than optimal start, and came close to flunking out. However, since neither of us wanted that to happen, I called her into my office to give her a warning, but also to offer her my help."
"I've sat in on a few similar meetings," Hiroe said, "since she came before my time, but wasn't the last. Sometimes, the students essentially give up, but for the most part, they take the warning seriously, and try to do better."
Hiroko nodded. While Hiroe had a tendency to be blunt and often outright rude, she had gotten better at giving constructive criticism after working alongside her mother.
"Aiko got better over time, and also reported in for additional individual meetings with me, which I give on request," Masae said. "Students can discuss their studies, speak to me about subjects that are... of a sensitive nature, and other things."
13 years ago
Masae sat behind her desk in her office inside her school. The office was fairly small and professional, but had some personal touches, such as certificates Masae had won in tankery competitions. There were also some framed photos on the desk- one of Masae and Masaru on their wedding day, one of Masae with her husband and children, and one of Masae with her sister and their parents.
Masae had been in many people's offices over the years, and believed that hers should be professional, but also personable. Her office was many things- a place for private meetings, a repository for some of her important documents and materials, a place where she could go to get some work done, and a home away from home.
"You wanted to see me, Instructor Atago?" Aiko said, coming into Masae's office a few weeks before graduation.
"Hello, Aiko, I'm glad you could make it," Masae said. "Please, have a seat."
With a "Yes, ma'am," Aiko sat down. Masae couldn't help but smile. When Aiko had been called into the office to be warned about how she was at risk of expulsion, she had sat down without being given permission, a mistake she had not repeated after being rebuked for it. Masae hoped that Aiko remembered it as well as she did.
"Do you remember the first time I called you into my office?" Masae said.
"Yes, ma'am," Aiko said."You informed me that unless I improved, I would flunk out, and there were many schools that would have failed me by this point without even the courtesy of a warning. Back then, I wondered if you were trying to drive home the fact that I should have been expelled, but I soon came to realize that you were giving me a chance."
"That's true," Masae said, "but just because I bring up how other people do things doesn't mean I consider them necessarily good. For example, have either of your parents asked you 'If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you do it?'"
"They have, Instructor," Aiko said. "And while it's a bit of an exaggeration, it does have a point; there are some things that you can tell are wrong through common sense alone, even if many others are making an obvious mistake."
"Apparently, the Nishizumi School has several copycats out there, that try to enforce their strict standards, to much less success," Masae said."From what I've heard, they have a relatively poor retention rate for students, morale is generally low, and the students ultimately don't seem to learn all that much."
When Masae was in her second year of high school, she had learned about the existence of such schools from Shiho, who had dismissively referred to them in passing when Masae asked if there were any schools like the Nishizumi school. As an adult, Masae also did some research on them, and saw that they were not examples she wanted to follow.
"Is it possible that they're doing something differently, Instructor?" Aiko said. "To use another analogy, perhaps it's a bit like how knock-off soft drinks don't taste like the big name brands because they don't have the secret ingredient."
"That's a good question, Aiko, but I think only the Nishizumis would know," Masae said. "However, you could say that I'm not especially fond of those soft drinks, and seek a better alternative, like fruit juice. Perhaps I can't get everyone who would follow the Nishizumi Style to convert to my way of thinking. But I can provide an alternative for those who aren't able to make it."
Aiko nodded.
"Not everyone will be graduating along with me, Instructor," Aiko said. "I didn't know those girls particularly well, but I can't help but wonder where they are now."
"So do I, Aiko," Masae said. "But I do hope they learned something from their time here, as you have."
Aiko nodded.
Masae then glanced at the clock.
"I've kept you long enough, though," Masae said. "Your parents are giving you a ride, aren't they?"
"Yes, ma'am," Aiko said. "But I told them that I was meeting with you; they're used to my doing this."
"I'm glad they understand," Masae said. "And I'm even more glad that you're willing to meet with me like this. You've come quite far, Aiko, and I have confidence that you will continue to improve in the future."
"Thank you, ma'am," Aiko said, standing and bowing before taking her leave.
A week later, a ceremony was held for the first class. There was a simple outdoor stage, with chairs lined up- students were seated in the front row, while their parents and other friends were seated behind them.
Masae looked over at the students seated in the front rows, and counted a somewhat smaller group than had come in at the beginning of the year; five students out of the original class of 35 had failed or dropped out by the end. She had done what she could to tell each of those students what they should do to meet her standards, but could not help but feel as though she wanted to do more.
But the occasion was ultimately a celebration of these students' accomplishments, even if not all of their classmates could join in it. So Masae held the ceremony for the benefit of all the graduates, specifically commending several outstanding members of the class. There was one among them who stood out in her own way, someone who would not earn the valedictorian title if there was one, but who had possibly learned more than anyone else.
"And now, I would like to recognize some students who have excelled in various ways over the course of the class," Masae said. "The first award goes to recognize a girl who has improved considerably in her time here. This school is about nothing if not your own personal development, but it will not end here. You will have many teachers, mentors and coaches in the years to come in tankery, who will teach you a great deal more, and help you to develop your skills. I would, however, like to recognize one individual in particular who came very far in her time here, and whom I believe will continue to improve greatly in the future. Please extend your congratulations to... Takahashi Aiko!"
Aiko got up out of her seat, somewhat surprised, as her classmates clapped, and one of her friends, sitting next to her, beamed a smile, before Aiko walked. Masae was glad that she, who had feared she would never pass, could be an inspiration to the others, and hoped future generations of students would follow her example both at the school and in their tankery careers.
Present day
"It's always nice to be able to help someone in such a way," Masae said. "After all, students are those who require instruction and should, ideally, come away having learned something. Aiko eventually became an instructor in the JGSDF, and passes those lessons on to her students."
"But what about your ideology?" Shiho said. "Surely you realize that you are an influence on your students to some degree, and surely you hope that they will emulate you?"
"I tell them what I believe in, and what I believe are methods for them to improve," Masae said. "It's impossible to share knowledge or teach others without your beliefs influencing the process in some way- what you consider important, how you share it and a myriad of other ways. In spite of that, I try to remain aware of how my beliefs come into play, and ensure that they do not become detrimental to my students' learning. Furthermore, I don't have the desire or ability to convert those with strong convictions."
"How so?" Maho said.
"I've spoken with many people who have a more die-hard approach to tankery," Masae said, "not just your mother, but also many of my other colleagues in the field of teaching tankery. I've argued in favor of my school, but they are not swayed so easily. I realize I cannot hope for that, though, and hope for an environment where those who try hard and seek to better themselves can do so without being forced to extremes, as well as that those who come to my school can use what they learn well, whatever their goals may be."
"So what do you hope to do then, Instructor Atago?" Miho said.
"Quite simply put, I hope to prove that people can, doing things my school's way, accomplish unlikely things," Masae said. "The first time that happened was the first time one of my students won the tournament, over a decade ago."
11 years ago
Masae sat in the stands, watching the finals, a match between Black Forest and Pravda on a rocky and hilly battlefield. She regularly attended her alma mater's matches, and made a point of doing so when they were led by one of her students.
Pravda's tanks emerged from their ambush, unleashing devastating attacks against the relatively light Black Forest tanks. Masae wondered why they had committed a relatively light force of tanks against the Russian tanks of Pravda, especially when their Nishizumi style relied on the raw power of the tanks.
The Black Forest onslaught did not seem as relentless or imposing as it often was, and the spectators around Masae watched with bated breath. Masae smiled. Perhaps a more even match would not only provide hope to the team at a disadvantage, but would provide the spectators with a more entertaining match. If Black Forest lost- and perhaps even if they won- it would likely knock them out of their complacency and force them to work for their next victory.
One tank- the flag tank- broke off from the main black Forest group in what Masae surmised was a fit of panic. A well-placed shell from an IS-2, however, brought the tank to a halt and out of the game.
"Pravda wins the tournament!" the announcer said.
Masae smiled. Some would say that the opportunity had only come because Black Forest had gotten careless, or had entrusted its flag tank to someone who should not have been trusted. But Masae knew that Aiko and her team had fought long and hard to reach this round, and had the ability to make full use of the opportunity. She, one of those the Nishizumi School would likely have discounted as unworthy, had triumphed over the top tankery school in the country.
As the ceremony ended, Masae approached Aiko, accompanied by her daughters. She was pleased to hear that her old student had, when asked by the press about the people she credited for her win, took the time to mention her old teacher.
"Congratulations, Aiko," Masae said.
"Thank you very much, Instructor Atago," Aiko said.
"You certainly did the school proud," Masae said, "and you have improved significantly from your time at the school. However, I hope you do not rest on your laurels, but continue striving to improve."
"Yes, ma'am," Aiko said. "I hope to enter the JGSDF and become an instructor, teaching others like you taught me."
Masae smiled and nodded. Aiko's goal was ambitious, more so than any she had expressed before. With the kind of determination she had showed, Aiko's future seemed bright
"I look forward to seeing what you accomplish in the future," Masae said pleasantly. "Perhaps someday I will get to call you Instructor Takahashi."
Present day
"The part I was happiest about was not the Nishizumi school suffering defeat, but my student being able to succeed on her own, against all odds," Masae said. "I'm proud to be able to call Instructor Takahashi a fellow tankery teacher, rather than just a student."
"You know, Instructor Atago, I feel the same way about my family's ideology," Miho said. "I can't convince them to do things my way, especially not when they seem set in their ways, but I do hope to do things on my own terms, and am grateful that my teammates are willing to support me."
"I, too, am grateful for my supporters," Masae said, "particularly that my daughters chose to enter tankery and follow my style willingly." Masae then gestured toward Hiroe and Kinue, who smiled and nodded.
"Over time, I became interested in tankery," Hiroe said, "in part because Mom was so good at it. Over the next few years, Mom taught me much of what she knew about tankery, and eventually, I started helping out at her school."
"Of course, unlike the Nishizumi school, my school was not traditionally passed down from mother to daughter," Masae said. "Therefore, rather than being my inheritor because she was my daughter, Hiroe was a successor who happened to be my daughter."
"Essentially, I was treated like just another student, albeit one with higher ambitions than most," Hiroe said. "So the standards for me were set accordingly; I was bound to the same rules as everyone else, but they were enforced more stringently."
5 years ago
Hiroe looked herself over as she prepared for the first lesson as her mother's assistant, wearing a gray suit with a red necktie.
"You're almost ready, Hiroe," Masae said, while wearing a blue suit with a matching necktie. "Just let me help you with your tie; those things aren't always easy to knot until you're used to them."
"The students do this all the time?" Hiroe said.
"Yes, and that's why it comes easily to them," Masae said. "I wear a suit and tie every day I teach class and expect you to do the same."
Hiroe simply nodded as her mother finished adjusting the knot. Masae hoped her elder daughter was not turned off by all the expectations she had of her. The process of explaining everything Hiroe needed to know was potentially intimidating, but it had to be done, a bit like how Masae's mother told her the basics of riding a bicycle before she took her seat for the first time. But Hiroe had spent years learning the more complex working of tanks, so Masae was confident that she would take to being assistant instructor just as easily.
"All done," Masae said. "You look nice, Hiroe."
"Thanks, Mom," Hiroe said.
Masae then cleared her throat.
"That won't do, Hiroe," Masae said. "We decided that for both of our sakes, it would be best if you were treated as just another of the assistant instructors under me. And that involves showing me the same respect as everyone else."
Hiroe nodded, without even needing to think about her response. In the years since she had first become interested in tankery, her mother had discussed inheriting the school, as well as what responsibilities Hiroe would have to fulfill in order to do so.
"Yes, ma'am," Hiroe said without hesitation. A feeling of awkwardness ensued as it left her mouth, but she realized that she would have to get used to saying it.
Masae's eyes widened slightly. Hiroe had slightly more difficulty with manners than Kinue did, but was willing to show her mother respect.
"That's better," Masae said.
"Shall we go, Instructor?" Hiroe said, and Masae nodded.
The two proceeded into the assembly area, where the students, many of whom were older than Hiroe, were waiting.
"Hello, everyone," Masae said. "I would like to introduce a new adjunct. She has been interested in tankery from a young age, following her mother's example, and has worked hard in order to prepare herself for it. She also happens to be my older daughter, but will not be receiving any special treatment from me. She entered through the same hiring process as the others and is held to the same standards, and as such, deserves the same respect. Please welcome Assistant Instructor Atago Hiroe."
The crowd applauded, until Masae motioned for silence. As Hiroe spoke, the students recognized her as her teacher, and gave her their attention.
Hiroe's commitment would be tested over the years, but for the moment, Hiroe had demonstrated not only her skill, but also her commitment. If she continued to do that, she would prove herself worthy of inheriting the school, and the Atago school would be in good hands in the future.
Present day
Hiroe couldn't help but feel a small amount of embarrassment at her first faux-pas.
"That was a considerable adjustment in many ways," Hiroe said. "It was the first time I got up in front of so many people who were more than a year or two older than me. It was the first time I had to speak so politely- my mother demanded more respect than most of my teachers do, although she made the same demands of her students and assistants. It was even the first time I wore a suit and tie."
"Like you're doing now?" Hiroko said, slightly amused.
"Yeah, I guess," Hiroe said.
"You really do look very nice in a suit, Onee-chan," Kinue said, having chosen to wear a suit and tie similar to Hiroe's, liking her sister's appearance and wanting to emulate it. "And it also seems you've gotten used to doing it."
"Thanks, Kinue; you're right," Hiroe said. "I actually like dressing up a little now. It's gotten easier to lead with confidence. And while I'm not so good at keeping my opinions to myself, I can usually be passably polite with someone, unless they piss me off." Hiroe subconsciously shot a glance at Shiho.
"Of course, I did have to make a few minor concessions based on the fact that you are my daughter, apart from disclosing said relationship," Masae said.
"One of them was that I didn't want Mom calling me 'Assistant Instructor' while on duty," Hiroe said. "I understand kids sometimes having to treat their parents as a superior, but her pretending we didn't know each other seemed a little ridiculous, to put it honestly."
"That was a reasonable request," Masae said, "especially since I call my students by their first names; the higher-ranked people do have that privilege of familiarity. But above all else, I do appreciate your willingness to accommodate my expectations, Hiroe."
Masae left unspoken how Hiroe seemed more polite to Shiho this evening, even if her opinions about her had not changed.
"Well, there are a few reasons for that," Hiroe said. "First, when you think about it, you're really not asking that much of me to treat you differently for specific periods of time, Instructor. Second, it is fairly reasonable to expect all this of me, especially since it's what you would ask of anyone else. Lastly, I do also want to believe that I've earned my position, for both our sakes."
Masae nodded in agreement.
"The assistant instructors, Hiroe included, are responsible for many of the tasks around the office, save those handled by the custodial staff and maintenance crews," Masae said. "In Hiroe's case, it also has the added purpose of showing her the workings of the school, and teaching her humility."
Hiroe chuckled at her mother's frankness.
"Mom doesn't shy away from criticizing people," Hiroe said. "I like that, since, as I said it before, when she praises me, I feel like I earned it."
"Yes; Hiroe was well-received among the students at my school, as well as her fellow assistants," Masae said. "At the very least, she was, for the most part, not seen as someone who was trying to ride my coattails."
"If I may ask, why would they assume that, Instructor Atago?" Maho said. "The Atago School has no precedent for succession, so perhaps whatever you did would be accepted as the standard policy, for better or worse."
"You're correct that it doesn't, Maho," Masae said. "And yet, people were still formulating their opinions on the school. Choosing a proper heiress would be critical, not just for ensuring the school's future, but proving that the method for doing so is sound. And I believe, above all else, that actions tend to speak louder than words. That's why I chose to establish a system to give honorary degrees to people who represent the values of our school."
"In some ways, my task was more difficult than yours, Instructor Nishizumi," Masae said. "You had to inherit the school from the mother, and follow her path to the best of your abilities. I had to establish mine from the ground up, and with no precedent to follow- there were other tankery schools out there, but I sought to find my own way."
Shiho nodded in understanding.
"I can't argue with that," Shiho said. "I personally can only imagine how difficult it must have been for Grandmother to start teaching tankery, back when it was relatively new."
Masae nodded.
"Indeed; tankery has changed a great deal since then," Masae said. "For example, part of my preparations included establishing a website for the school, and much of my networking and promoting the school involved the Internet. I do often find myself having to work hard to keep my knowledge current."
Shiho nodded, recalling how her mother had established a website for the Nishizumi school. The Nishizumi style had been in existence since the 18th century, long before the advent of tank combat and all the technology that made modern tankery possible, although Hotaru's mother was the one who was responsible for starting to teach the Nishizumi style in tankery back in tankery's infancy. For three generations, the Nishizumis had taught tankery, and while some would call them stagnant and reactionary, they were determined to uphold centuries of traditions even as the world changed.
"We, too, have had to adjust for the times in our own way," Shiho said. "But adjustment does not mean compromising our principles, and so I strive to keep the Nishizumi style intact, even as the world changes. It's a difficult job, and everything my mother and I did as parents was for the sake of raising daughters who could take on that responsibility."
Author's Notes
This chapter is meant to show the stricter and more authoritative side of Masae. She may not be as strict as Shiho, but she demands respect, and stands by her decisions, even when they're difficult ones. In those regards, she's shown as someone who isn't Shiho's polar opposite, but who tries for similar principles without taking the to unreasonable extremes.
It's also meant to establish the Atago school as different from the Nishizumi school, both as a new school trying to establish itself, and as an only moderately strict organization, one that tries to make its students successful without going to the same extremes as the Nishizumi style, and one that is prepared to change with the times.
I had to make a few last-minute changes after learning somewhat recently that the Nishizumi style had been around since 1754, long before tankery. Originally, Miho and Maho's great-grandmother/Shiho's grandmother/Hotaru's mother was the founder of the Nishizumi school, but I instead had her be the first Nishizumi to teach tankery, since it seemed to be around that time that tankery began.
The story's almost over. After Shiho's chapter on her school, there will be one more chapter for Shiho and Masae, in which each essentially expresses what matters in the end, followed by the ending. I may release the chapters slightly more quickly until the end of Paths Toward Victory, since they're all essentially ready and may only need minor polishing.