What happened next was barely more than a blurry haze. I somewhat remember helping Assam lift Darjeeling-sama out of the tank through one of the tight hatches, barely being able to squeeze her limp body through.
By the time we were able to get her out, everyone had realized what had happened and someone had called a local emergency line. They redirected an emergency helicopter towards our location to airlift Darjeeling-sama to somewhere they could properly treat her.
Amazingly, Assam managed to keep her composure through it all and fulfill her duty as acting team captain. She ordered everyone on the team besides me and Rosehip to return to the Ark Royal with the tanks via rail. Rukuriri would be in charge until Assam returned.
As everyone else left with the tank carriers to the train station, the ambulance helicopter descended down onto the field to ferry Darjeeling-sama off to the hospital. With the helicopter's rotors still running, the first responders hooked up our friend to an oxygen mask and bandaged her wounds to the best of their ability. Assam looked to them and just as they were about to leave, she asked them to do one thing:
"Take good care of her."
The pilot gave a finger salute as he began the takeoff process. The large blades of the helicopter whirled to life in earnest and lifted the vehicle upward, and we watched as the flying ambulance disappeared above the ridgeline and off towards the big city.
Only after the helicopter left did I notice that Assam's uniform, as well as my own, were stained with our commander's blood. Rosehip, as per usual, was caked in a thick layer of dust, although a tad bit more so than regularly. I began to examine my own uniform and was met by a wave of dismay.
My prized loading gloves, a present I received from Darjeeling-sama herself when I joined the team, would now forever be tainted by the crimson ichor of its gifter.
Great, I thought to myself. What will I do with these now? I considered discarding them after the match, as they'd probably not be well suited for future matches. However, something sentimental deep inside told me to keep them, if only to honor Darjeeling-sama's fine choice in glove handicraft.
I took them off and stuffed them into my bag of personal belongings, including a personal set of fine china and a bag of gourmet Saunders popcorn. Just as we finished putting on a fresh change of clothes, our chauffeur had arrived. Assam hurried me and Rosehip into the back of a private cab before getting into the passenger seat herself. We soon drove off towards the hospital to try and attend to our fallen friend.
The following trip seemed to pass by at a Churchill's pace. Assam sat in the passenger seat while Rosehip and I were crammed into the back. After roughly an hour or so, the rough mountain off-roads from which we came slowly sprawled out into a vast network of urban highways. The natural ambient noise of birds and running water were replaced by the honks and chatter of the big city. Traffic ground to a halt, and time somehow seemed to pass even slower as we came closer to our destination.
Assam's now glassy eyes stared out the window into the sea of cars, trucks, and scooters. In all likelihood, she was probably either in deep thought or numb shock. Rosehip was frantically looking about, fiddling her thumbs, and muttering to herself — something along the lines of "Bloody hell, you've sure done it this time, desu wa." As for me, I was holding back tears and desperately trying to scrub out that image from my mind. However, no matter how hard I tried, the sight of Darjeeling-sama bleeding out on the turret floor would remain burned into my retina.
Once we arrived at the hospital, Assam thanked and paid our chauffeur before we entered the massive medical complex. The place was one of the finest high-intensity care facilities in all of Japan, with thousands of rooms and specialists available at a moment's notice. If anywhere on the entire island chain could save Darjeeling-sama, it would be here.
As we entered the colossal building, its automatic sliding doors smoothly glided out of the way. We were then hit by a blast of air-conditioned wind, a soothing sensation after spending several hours in the hot, sweltering conditions that came from crewing a tank. Assam's hair whipped about wildly in the draft while Rosehip and I, with our more moderate lengths of hair, only jostled somewhat. Inside was a clean, pristine spacious reception room, complete with a large central counter and several rows of waiting seats.
While Assam made a B-line towards the reception desk to ask about Darjeeling-sama, I wandered off with Rosehip to look for a place to sit. Despite the chairs being so tightly packed together, we found a decent enough spot and were almost able to make ourselves comfortable.
To say the wait was awkward would be an understatement. While there were the constant hum and occasional beeps of various electronics, the faint sounds of typing keys clacking along with the rustle of papers, and the indistinguishable chatter of conversations, it still felt uncomfortably quiet. Rosehip's demeanor did not ease the tension in the slightest; rather, she actively raised it.
She kept giving me nervous glances and looked like she really wanted to talk about what happened but was too ashamed to do so. Her indecisiveness was oddly out of character, clearly suggesting something was deeply troubling her. I decided to make the first move to break the uneasy silence as well as spare Rosehip the embarrassment.
"Is there anything bothering you, Rosehip? You've been glancing at me for a while now, so do you want to say something? If you don't feel like talking then you don't have to, but I would greatly appreciate it if you did."
Rosehip jumped a bit in her seat, seemingly blindsided by my forwardness. "W-what? N-no no, you've got it all wrong, desu wa! There isn't anything bothering me right now, I was just... -er, just taking in the surroundings, yeees! That sounds about right, desu wa! I was just..."
Rosehip's voice trailed off as I gave her a look of pity and sorrow. I could sense she wasn't telling the truth, or at least not all of it. I saw through her attempt to disguise her guilt and grief through an unconvincing effort to emulate her normal joking self. Rosehip, realizing she had been found out, sighed, slumped her head down and began twiddling with her thumbs before speaking again.
"... Alright, fine. Just promise not to judge me too much for this." I slowly nodded as she continued with her thoughts.
"It's just... it's just that when we hit that tree during the practice match, I ended up falling onto my gunner. There was already a round loaded into the gun, and I guess that as I pulled myself back up, my sleeve must have gotten caught on the gun trigger. I think… I think maybe I'm the one who is most responsible for Darj getting hurt. I feel sick just thinking about it, but I feel like I have to take the blame here. I know that you all despise me for being, well, me. And maybe... and maybe if I actually followed your guys' advice, Darj might still be fine..."
At this point, her teary eyes and runny nose stopped her from continuing on, but I understood her pain well enough. I tried to comfort her with a hug, though the way our seats were positioned made it into more of an awkward side hold. It didn't matter too much though as Rosehip immediately accepted it all the same, burying her face into my shoulder as she wept. Someone like Assam might have not appreciated being used as a glorified handkerchief, but Rosehip really needed the emotional support right now. The least I could do was to try and be that support for her to the best of my ability.
"Rosehip, look at me." My pink-headed friend lifted her head up and our eyes locked, mere inches away from each other. "You are an invaluable member of our team and one of my closest friends. We spent years together in the same Senshado classes, and I am proud to say that you have grown so much since then, both as a tanker and as a person. You are worthy of our love and respect, and don't let anyone convince you otherwise. What happened to Darjeeling-sama is not your fault. It was a freak accident and I don't think you could have done anything to have prevented it from happening. We just have to keep calm and carry on, like Darjeeling-sama always told us to."
My voice began to waver slightly by this point, so I broke eye contact and pulled Rosehip in for an even tighter hug. A startled squeal from her suggested she was somewhat confused by the abrupt gesture, but she accepted it and returned the hug in earnest. She whispered into my ear, "thank you," and although she couldn't see it, I smiled for the first time since the end of the practice match. Eventually, our emotions died down and our breathing steadied, so we awkwardly disentangled our limbs from one another as Assam finished up arranging our visit and came over to us.
When she finally found us in the maze of seats, Assam slumped into the chair directly across from us. After the practice match this morning, caring for Darjeeling-sama after the accident, the long drive over here, and the lengthy appointment with the front desk, she was clearly physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted.
With her head still laid back on the chair, Assam lazily looked at us and asked, "So, how... are ya two... faring?" Her speech was slower and sloppier than usual, slurring together syllables that might have made it hard for most people to understand. It took me a few moments to properly register what she said before I could respond.
"We're doing fairly well for ourselves. Any news on Darjeeling-sama?"
Rosehip, finally putting together where the conversation was going, piped in saying, "Yeah, how is Darj doing, desu wa?"
Assam somehow managed to slump back even further into her seat and began to massage her temples. Suffice to say that the whole ordeal was a massive headache for her. After a few moments, her speech became clearer and we could finally understand what she was saying.
"They said we still have to wait for the doctor to fully examine Darjeeling's condition. Until they can get a rough idea of how she will do, they won't allow any visitors."
"Oh, that doesn't sound all too good, desu wa. I really hope she's alright. I- I don't know what I would do if she wasn't... Goddammit Rosehip! Why do you have to be such a damn klutz all the bloody time?!" she said, the last bit being more of a reproach to herself that anything else.
Rosehip began to tear up again with guilt and was on the verge of having a breakdown. I put my hand on Rosehip's shoulder to comfort her, saying, "It wasn't your fault, bad things happen and you obviously didn't intend to hurt anyone, so please stop beating yourself up over it. Darjeeling-sama is probably one of the most resilient and strong willed people I know, so she has to be fine."
I paused for a moment, realizing what I had just said. Huh, I thought to myself. Do I really believe that Darjeeling-sama will be fine or am I just saying that to keep our spirits up? She may be tough as nails but a tank shell is still a tank shell. I refocused on the conversation just as Assam was about to speak up again.
"Darjeeling was the first person to really pull me out of my shell, and I've been by her side ever since. She must be scared. Confused. Alone. I want to be there for her, just like she was there for me." Her gaze was no longer on us but rather fixated on the ceiling, her brilliant purple eyes giving us the impression that she was deep in thought. "I'm supposed to be by her side at all times, and now that there is a very real possibility of her not being able to do Senshado with us after this, I don't know what I would do with myself if that ever happens."
Rosehip and I both came to a sudden realization, only now considering the possibility that even if Darjeeling recovered, she would still be in no condition to stand up, much less command a tank. I also came to the conclusion that an injury this severe would be more than enough justification for her parents to pull her out of Senshado. The very thought sickened me to my very core. What if Darjeeling-sama does get pulled out of Senshado for good? What if her parents pull her from St. Gloriana altogether? WHAT IF-
Before I could finish that thought, a nurse called for our group. We got up out of our seats and she led the three of us deep into the medical complex to see our friend. The nurse ushered us down various claustrophobic hallways with a blinding harsh, cold light always reflecting off of the various bright surfaces. The snaking routes and paths made the building feel like a labyrinth, with a vast network of rooms and offices around every single corner.
We finally arrived at the room where they were housing Darjeeling-sama: room J18. The nurse knocked on the door and after a few moments, a portly gentleman wearing large round glasses and a white lab coat popped out of the room and greeted us. I forgot what his name was, but his qualifications put him squarely amongst some of the best doctors in the entire country. We bowed and began to ask him about the state our friend was in. According to him, she was doing surprisingly well considering the state she arrived in. That wasn't saying much, given the dire status that she arrived in, but he was astonished that she even arrived at the hospital alive. However, he remained grave as we asked him how Darjeeling-sama would be recovering.
"I'm afraid I do not have much good news for you ladies in that regard." He adjusted his round wire-framed spectacles as he continued. "It's a miracle that your friend has even made it this far! She lost nearly two liters of blood and is missing a large chunk of her side. Unfortunately..." The doctor took off his spectacles and fidgeted with them as he came up with the proper wording. "... Unfortunately, modern medicine can only do so much, and I'm afraid that the damage to her vital organs are... irreparable. We can keep her going for a little bit longer, but if you have any parting words for her, now is the time to say them."
He gestured for us to come into the room, and we cautiously entered, prepared to see the worst. The walls were lined with the blinking lights of various machines, presumably life support. Jumbles of wires and tubes hung from various tall stands. In the center of the room was a teal and white hospital bed with a heart monitor beside it, giving off a weak but stable rhythm of beeps. As my eyes panned past the monitor and wires, I saw her.
Our commander. Our mentor. Our friend. There she laid, hooked up to several IV drips and a respirator mask. The great reformer who pushed back against the alumni and brought St. Gloriana back on course to properly be one of the Power Four of Senshado, now reduced to a feeble frame edging closer to death's door by the minute.
Darjeeling-sama….
Tally Ho all! After a long hiatus, I have finally returned to provide you lovely folks with a new chapter of Their Finest Hour. Anyhow, you know how I said that this would be the last flashback chapter? Yeah... I need one more chapter to finish this up. I promise, this time for sure! Huge thanks to Rihnoswirl and Rosy the PIAT-teer for proofreading my work. Thank you all for your support and I can't wait to see you in the next chapter!