Dein Weg ist Mein Weg
Chapter XVI
The Punishment
A/N: Please note and be aware that this chapter does contain depictions of suicidal thoughts
"A Nishizumi doesn't hesitate."
"A Nishizumi doesn't break."
"A Nishizumi doesn't cry."
"When a Nishizumi has the target before them, they fire."
"When a Nishizumi fires, they hit their target."
A few deep breaths, and Maho returned to the present. Her ritual was completed. She had recited her lessons, her mother's words had echoed in her mind, and her scars had burned all her knowledge and skill into her. Her mind was quiet and empty, and there was nothing but the battle. All errant thoughts were silenced, and she sat silently in the commander's seat of '212' with her eyes closed, waiting for the signal like a tiger waiting to pounce.
A signal rocket was fired, illuminating the overcast sky. The final match of the 62nd National championship had begun, and Maho raised a hand to the mic against her throat.
"All tanks, Panzer vor."
The aír grew cold as she spoke. With a single command transmitted across the airwaves, Kuromorimine ceased to be a hundred individuals. As if casting a spell upon her team, every tank and every crewmember coalesced into a single being. A single immortal being, with Maho as its brain and her subordinates acting as her limbs. In her mind's eye, she saw the battlefield splayed out before her, knowing the position of every tank just like she knew every centimeter of her own skin. Her command was supreme, and her 'body' followed without question.
This was the Nishizumi style. Her family's style. Her mother's style. Her style. She was Maho Nishizumi, her mother's first-born, and the heiress of the Nishizumi style. She was Kuromorimine, and Kuromorimine was her, fused together into a singular force of nature. Victory was nothing but a formality, a matter of time.
The battle was indeed nothing but a formality. The initial meeting between Pravda and Maho's forces was nothing less than a massacre. Flanking the Russian tanks and acting as hammer and anvil both, the forty tanks on the field were quickly reduced to twenty-five as Pravda fled with their remaining seven tanks, Maho pursuing with her overwhelming advantage of eighteen.
So astounding was her assault that the gods themselves seemed to weep at Pravda's defeat, with rain falling hard on the battlefield, removing any real visibility from the field. But this only favored Maho further. She did not need her eyes to see her enemy. She needed only to close her eyes and listen, and she could sense their every movement.
The battle was nearing its end. She could feel it. There wasn't even time enough for a crescendo. Pravda would fall, not with a bang, but a whimper. As she followed the Russian tanks between a cliff and river, she could see the proverbial noose tightening around the enemy commander's neck. It was over. At the end of the path was nothing but a dead end, and the few T-34s and IS-2s that opposed her didn't stand a ghost of a chance.
She ordered a battle line set up along the small plateau, ensuring that there would be no escape, and gave the order to fire. A symphony of cannonfire sounded, and the Russian tanks closed ranks under the rain of fire, a pathetic attempt to protect their flag tank in hopes of a last minute-reversal. But Maho wasn't going to allow them to even entertain the hope of one.
"Tank 217, advance to point 3-L-7 and press the assault along their right flank. We'll squeeze out what little life remains in them."
"Yes, Commander," a voice answered in acknowledgement, and a Panzer III began rolling up along the edge of the river. The death-knell was imminent.
A call over the radio disturbed Maho's thoughts. She tried not paying it any mind, and retained her focus on the task at hand: Victory. But then the call was repeated.
"Mayday, Mayday, this is Koume Akaboshi of KMM-217. We're losing traction and need immediate assista-aaaah!" Koume's scream pulled Maho out of her planning, and she glanced over to where she had ordered the Panzer III to be. It wasn't there. A jolt of annoyance hit her, and she scanned the field for the errant tank until she found it. It was lying askew on the edge of the cliff overseeing the river below, its tracks spinning wildly as it tried to gain perches as the ground only gave way further.
A shell from Pravda's lines impacted with the ground underneath the Panzer III as another slammed into its front armor plate, and the ground collapsed completely causing the tank to tumble down the cliffside.
Time slowed to a crawl. Shells hung in place and the rain became nothing more than lone drops of water floating in the air. Meanwhile, Maho's thoughts rushed faster than a bullet train through her head. KMM-217 had fallen. She would need to send another tank in its stead to deal with the gap in her lines. But what about Koume? Koume was fine. Tanks were thrown around all the time in Sensha-Do. What mattered was the match, and victory. She would end Pravda here and now. She would crush them for their petty insolence, believing they could stand against her. She would… but what if she wasn't fine? What if the tank had fallen into the river? No, the judges were monitoring the battle. They would retrieve the Panzer III shortly. And if there was any immediate danger they would surely call a ceasefire. Of course they would. The assault was more important. She would send 103 in to take 217's place. They would distract Pravda long enough for… Long enough for what? The vehicle recovery station was far away. What if they couldn't see the danger Koume and Emi were in? Her thoughts only raced faster and faster as the battle around her stood frozen in a silent diorama.
But of course, time wasn't standing still. She needed to make a decision. She needed to decide, and she needed to give orders.
"KMM-101, Come in," she said coldly across the air-waves.
"KMM-101 here, Copy you KMM-212," Miho answered. Her Tiger was the closest to the site where Koume's Panzer III had fallen off the cliff.
"Disengage from battle, and inspect the area where KMM-217 fell from the cliff. KMM-334 will take your place. We need to make sure Vice-Commander Akaboshi and her crew are safe."
"No, Commander. They will be fine, we need to push the advantage and destroy Pravda's remaining forces. The match organizers will deal with any fallen tanks."
"Maybe, but don't you think…" Miho's conviction made Maho falter in her own. Maybe she was just overreacting. Koume and her crew would surely be fine for another five minutes while they finished up the battle?
"This is the Nishizumi way, Commander. Victory is imminent. They will be fine. Your orders?"
"Uh… I…" she said, not knowing. "Standing orders... Return to battle."
"Yes, Commander."
She shook her head, and slapped her cheeks a few times. She needed to focus. But despite her attempts, she couldn't. Whatever her ritual and her pills did to empty her mind from distractions, it had ceased to work. Memories of Koume and Emi flashed in her mind where tank positions and tactics should be. But so did memories of her mother's lessons as well. She felt frozen in place, unable to move. Invisible hands and flaming lashes holding her in place as her scars flared up anew.
She drew deep breaths as the battle continued around her, gathering her strength. She put a hand on top of '212's turret and felt the strength and power within, flowing through her. She was Maho Nishizumi. Her mind was of iron and her heart was armored. She was the living embodiment of a tank. She felt this herculean power flow through her, and in a single moment, made up her mind. She channeled all her strength and broke free of her invisible restraints, leaping from the cupola and down to the ground, breaking into a sprint across the battlefield.
The pouring rain cut her face and legs as she ran through the battle. Guns from both sides fired upon the others, and answered in turn. But one after the other, the guns of Kuromorimine began to fall silent.
A stray shell from Pravda's lines nearly took her legs out from under her as she passed one of the Panzer IV's in the vanguard, and it probably would have if she had been running any faster. Instead it hit the ground a few meters away and made her stumble, but it couldn't stop her. She was Maho Nishizumi, and nothing could stop a Nishizumi.
The cliffside grew closer in her eyes as she ran, but as she passed the wreck of a Panther with a white flag flying above it and its crew huddled safely inside, her view of the goal was replaced by the ground. She had slipped in the mud, and fell face-first into the almost liquid ground.
A jolt of pain flashed through her knee, and she instinctively curled up as she grabbed at the source. She drew a few breaths through gritted teeth, trying to still the pain in her leg before her mission returned to her mind. She rolled and sprung back to her feet despite the pain, and continued on her path.
But as she reached the edge of the plateau where Koume's Panzer III had fallen, she unwillingly lost all momentum. Staring over the edge into the muddy waters beneath, something within her screamed no, struggling against herself to keep her from going further. Dark waters and struggles for air flashed in her mind with incredible clarity, as if from a memory forgotten. Her unconscious seemingly was trying to frighten her away from the river. Having stopped her mind from throwing itself into further danger, her body took nervous steps away from the edge, unconsciously dragging her away from apparent danger. Still, beyond the dark memories flooding forth, she saw Koume. She saw Emi. If the river was a danger to her, it was most certainly one to the younger girls.
By this point her body had stepped back a few meters from the edge where it had stopped, apparently deeming the situation safe despite the explosions surrounding her. She wanted nothing other than to just leap into the river and find her friends, but her body wouldn't allow it. Her unconscious had grabbed full control, using some forgotten fear to hold her mind hostage. She sensed a shell heading towards her, having bounced off of a Tiger II standing silent, and her body dove to the ground, the shell passing over her and spraying her in dirt and mud it threw up. Why couldn't she move? Why couldn't she break free from this fear she didn't know the source of?
But there was something more. Something else that tried to break through the blockade in her mind. Beyond the memories of dark waters and struggling for air, she could hear a voice. She couldn't make out whose, but trying with all her might, she could make out what it said.
"It's only when we're scared that we can be brave."
A flash of light, striking like lightning through her mind, and Maho pushed herself to her feet. She curled her hands into fists and drew a single deep breath, steeling herself. The moment wouldn't last. If she waited, her body would simply refuse to move again. She let out a blood-curdling yell, renewed her sprint towards the edge, and leapt off it into the waters below, diving into the muddy river in search of the Panzer III.
The water was cold and dark. There was no sound to go on except for the muted explosions above her, and she could barely see her hand in front of her. Her only guide was a faint trickle of bubbles floating upwards from below her, and so she followed them down until she could see the weak light of the Panzer III's headlights. She found her way to the Commander's hatch, and pulled it open with a combination of strength and adrenaline. Seeing some faint shadows move past her in the water, and feeling her lungs scream for air, she swam towards the surface, the light of explosions from the raging battle guiding her there.
Breaching the surface, she gasped for air. It took most of her strength just to keep her head above water, but her mind was only focused on scanning the river around her. She saw four heads bobbing in the water as Koume and her crew swam towards the shore a few meters away. Four heads. Four heads, out of a crew of five.
"WHERE'S EMI?!" she yelled at Koume, who looked around frantically, gasping for air and coughing up water. Blood trickled from a nasty-looking cut across the right of her brow.
"I don't know! I didn't hear her say anything when we were sinking! I think she's still in the-Commander!" Koume interrupted her own reply to yell at her, as Maho took as deep a breath as she could and dove back under the surface.
The trail of bubbles was gone by this point, and the only thing Maho had to go on was her own gut as she swam down to the bottom. By a pure miracle she found the Panzer III again, and crawled inside the turret. Looking down into the bowels of the tank, she could make out Emi still in her seat, unmoving, faint wispy tendrils of red flowing from her head.
She got back out of the tank, and swam over to the driver's hatch, grabbing and tugging at the handle. Her strength was beginning to fail her. But she didn't care. She couldn't allow herself to stop. She was a Nishizumi, and nothing, not even her own mortal coil running out, would stop her. With a final shot of energy coursing through her veins, her reserves now fully emptied, she yanked the hatch open and reached down, putting her arms through Emi's armpits and pulling her up. Once she had gotten her limp body out of the tank, she put one arm under the hollows of her knees, and the other behind her back, using her legs to propel them both to the surface.
The first thing that struck Maho as she reached the surface was how quiet it was. There were no explosions, no cannonfire, and no rumbling engines. She gasped for air, and made sure to keep Emi's head above water as she made her way back towards the shore. A few meters from the water's edge her feet finally found solid ground, and she hobbled back onto land, gingerly holding Emi's limp body in her arms, as if she was made of glass. Now that they were no longer under water and there was at least a modicum of light, Maho could see the full extent of Emi's injury. A gruesome wound ran across the left side of her head, hiding her face behind thick and sticky blood that now ran freely without the river's water diluting it. The organizers were there with a stretcher, and Maho handed Emi over to the medics, almost reluctantly. There was no sign of Koume or the rest of her crew, but Maho assumed they had already been transported off the field. It was less than unwise to have girls running around just beside an active battle zone.
But if there was still a battle, why was it so quiet? Maybe the organizers had called a ceasefire while she was underwater? She made her way back up the sloping cliff to the plateau where the battle was taking place as quickly as she could. She didn't want the battle paused any longer than necessary just for her sake. But as she made her way to the top, she finally realized why it was so quiet.
Russian and German tanks, many wrecked, were scattered across the plateau with craters and thick mud littering the ground. And on the far side of the plateau, through the still pouring rain, Maho saw '212'. It's left track was lying shattered and broken on the ground, and the gun hung limply from the turret. A white flag popped out from its hull completed the picture. 212, Kuromorimine's flag tank, was out of the battle, and thus, they had lost.
Standing among the metal husks that littered the field she saw her teammates, many with disappointment and dismay evident on their faces. In the corner of her eye, she could just make out the remaining girls of Pravda celebrating with their commander where their own tanks stood.
Maho had always imagined losing was a horrible feeling. She had imagined it would feel like your very soul was being ripped from your chest. She had imagined it would be a feeling of unbelievable shame and sadness. That's what she had been taught, all her life. That losing was tantamount to losing one's soul, and that that was a feeling she was supposed to revel in inflicting upon others.
But she didn't feel any sadness. She didn't feel any shame, or any pain for that matter, except for the one in her knee. She didn't feel like her soul was being ripped from her. She simply felt empty. She felt empty and hollow, and she was pretty sure the loss had nothing to do with it. She was simply too tired and fraught with emotion to care as she hobbled across the field, her teammates looking at her with eyes like daggers.
The silence was deafening. Even though the hall was full of sounds; pens scratching on paper, clocks ticking, the odd beep or call over the tannoy, there was nothing but a deafening silence. Maho and Koume sat side by side on a bench in the reception of the Black Forest General Hospital, the biggest medical center aboard the Graf Zeppelin, and waited in silence. Koume and the rest of the crew had been cleared almost immediately by the doctors. The cut on her forehead had been sutured, and she had been given a blanket to warm her up. Now they were just waiting for word on Emi.
Koume's radio operator had come by with a fresh change of clothes for her, but Maho was still in her rumpled and muddy uniform. She had come to the hospital as soon as she got back to the Graf Zeppelin, and she had no intention of leaving to change before they knew what condition Emi was in.
They had been sitting there for hours by now, and not once had they spoken. They had certainly tried, but whenever any of them spoke, the other just nodded or hummed in reply, and the silence returned. There was nothing to talk about, and there was nothing to say. There was only the silent wait.
"Commander Nishizumi?"
Maho didn't listen. She only kept staring at the doors to the ICU opposite her, hoping beyond all hope that, at any moment, Emi would simply walk out and yell at them both for letting her uniform get soaked.
"Commander Nishizumi! Mai Ogawa, of the Public Morals Committee." Again, Maho didn't listen.
"Commander…" Koume said in a low voice and nudged her shoulder, "I think you're wanted."
Finally Maho tore her gaze from the mint-green doors, and glanced at the girl beside them. She had long brown hair under a grey cap with black rim and Kuromorimine's logo on the front, matching her grey coat; The uniform of Kuromorimine's Public Morals Committee.
"What is it?" she asked, uninterested and vacant.
"You have a meeting, Commander. In your office."
"It's not important…"
"Commander, I believe it is. You have been summoned to your office. The head of the Alumni association wishes to speak with you."
"She can go to hell."
"Commander," the girl said sternly, "I am under orders to escort you to your office, and if you will not come willingly, I will bring you anyways."
"Go." Koume took Maho's hand, and gave it a short squeeze. "I will be fine here. If anything happens, or there's any news whatsoever on Emi, I'll let you know right away."
Maho glanced over to Koume, who forced a smile, before sighing and getting up from the bench.
Maho put a hand on the door to her office, and took a deep breath. She tried to steel herself, to calm her mind and focus her thoughts. She failed. Still, she could feel the eyes of the public morals officer staring holes in her, and so pushed the door open and entered.
"You forfeited the match." Her mother spoke in cold facts and resentment where she sat in the chair behind Maho's desk. Suddenly, Maho wasn't the battle-proven commander of a great team, but a young girl about to be reprimanded for her failure. She felt chills run down her spine, and in her mind she felt as if she was back in her mother's study, her back bare as she faced the wall awaiting her "lesson".
"No, I didn't."
"You left your post, and through inaction and incompetence handed the victory to the enemy. What would you call it?" Her mother's words chilled her spine and cut fresh wounds across her skin with every syllable as she looked Maho up and down, glaring with apparent distaste at the sorry state she was in.
"I made an attempt to rescue my comrades when they were in danger. I only…"
"You left your post, and as a result you lost your team the championship."
"I only tried to…"
"If you were so intent to leave my team to its fate, you should have transferred command to your Vice-Commander."
"My Vice-Commander was at the bottom of a river. It's a miracle she's still breathing, which is more than can be said about her driver. And with all respect, Mother, I am the Commander. The team is mine, not yours."
Her mother scoffed. "What do you know of respect? Do you know how much money the Nishizumi family donates to this school to keep its Sensha-Do program's place as the finest in the country? I thought not. I have forged this team throughout the years, long before you were even conceived, and before that my mother did the same. I am the head of the Nishizumi family and this team is mine to do with as I please."
"Mother, I never intended for a moment to forfeit the match, and I never for a moment wished to anger you."
"No, you only made a fool of Kuromorimine with your actions, and you made a fool of me. A mistake you will rectify." She glared at Maho with eyes sharp as daggers, pointing to a piece of paper on her desk. "You are going to sign this, you are going to resign as commander, and in time you will repent for this mistake."
Maho stepped over to the desk, and picked up the piece of paper. It was a letter, with the signature left blank. Her mother pushed a pen towards her, expecting her to sign it, but Maho began reading instead. She wanted to know what she was signing.
The letter was dripping in her mother's fury, disapproval, and her disdain. It outlined Maho's many "mistakes", and alleged that they were the result of excessive strain and stress upon her young mind. It claimed that her weak psyche couldn't hold up in the heat of battle, and that her rushing to save the Panzer III's crew was a mistake, made in the heat of the moment with no thought of the consequences by a panicked and frightened girl who's nerves simply weren't as made out for command as she had made it seem. "She wasn't thinking clearly", "She acted on an irrational impulse that she should have suppressed", "She regretted her actions deeply, and hoped to atone for her mistake".
"What is this?"
"It is an admittance and apology for your failures."
Maho steeled herself. She summoned every ounce of strength still residing in her body, and looked up at her mother, speaking in a defiant tone.
"I won't sign this. I knew what I was doing, and I would do it again. Without a moment's hesitation."
Her mother rose from the chair, and began walking around the desk. "Let me make something clear, Maho. You will sign that letter, and then you will hand in your letter of resignation to the alumni association, at which point your sister will take over your post. She has proven herself capable of following the Nishizumi style, something you are seemingly too much of an insignificant weakling to do. You have embarrassed me for the last time with your flights of fancy, and I will not have it any longer."
"I refuse, Mother. I will not sign this."
"YOU ARE MY HEIR, AND YOU WILL DO AS YOU'RE TOLD!" Her mother was barely a meter away from her now, and the flames of her fury had thawed all coldness in her voice away.
"No…" Maho shook her head slowly, memories of Emi and Koume flashing in her mind. "I will not sign this." She repeated, before adjusting her grip on the paper, and tearing it in half. "Surely your precious team should be able to handle itself better without an insignificant weakling like me there to hold their hand at all times throughout the battle?"
"You dare defy me? I see now that I have been lacking in your upbringing…"
"What upbringing?" Maho said dryly under her breath.
"You insolent…" Maho didn't see it happen. Her mother struck her across the face with such force that she was thrown to the floor, gasping for air from pure shock. Looking up, still with defiance in her eyes, she saw her mother straighten her clothing, before stepping over Maho where she lay on the floor. "You're lucky I'm a busy woman, Maho. I'll have to deal with you later." She left the office without another word, leaving Maho where she was.
"Commander!" Koume called out as Maho returned to Black Forest. "Is everything alright?"
"It's nothing." There was no point in letting Koume know what had happened. It would just worry her. Besides, Maho didn't want to talk about it. "What about Emi? Any news?"
"The doctors finished up about fifteen minutes ago."
"Is she…"
"She's alive," Koume said reassuringly and nodded. "But you probably won't hear her celebrate it anytime soon?"
"What?"
"She's in a coma. The doctor said it was something about the blow to the head she took when the tank rolled." She looked to the floor as she spoke, with a low voice. Glancing up, she continued. "You should go see her. Even if she won't know it, I know she would appreciate it. My parents are here and want to talk to me, but I'll come by later. Ok?"
"Yeah… sure…"
Koume squeezed Maho's hands for a moment. "She's in room 217." She couldn't help but smile at the irony. "Fitting, isn't it?"
"No. None of this is fitting…" Maho answered in her dour tone. She wasn't in the mood for jokes.
She left Koume behind and made her way to the second floor. After asking one of the nurses for directions, she found Emi's room and entered, looking at the sight before her. Emi was lying lifeless and unresponsive in the hospital bed, her hair let down and flowing across the pillows. The left side of her face was hidden behind bandages, a machine made raspy sounds as it pumped air through a mask covering her mouth and nose, and a number of other tubes and instruments were attached to her as well. It was one of the most frightening sights Maho had ever laid eyes upon. To see the usually spirited girl reduced to this. A limp body lying silent and unmoving, kept alive only through machines and fluids.
"Hi, Emi…" she said meekly, and walked over to the chair beside the bed where she sat down. "I'm sorry I didn't come to you sooner. I was called away for something. My mother tried telling me to… no… no... You don't want to hear about it, do you? You probably think I'm an idiot for it. That's what you always said." She reached out a hand and moved some scattered strands of hair out of the girl's face. "You never deserved this. No one does. Still, it should have been me, shouldn't it? I was selfish, and stupid, and over-confident, and I should be the one to pay for it, not you." She chuckled softly, but it quickly died down again. There was nothing funny about it. Her voice began to tremble and shake as she spoke further. "Is this… Is this your way of telling me a joke? Of rubbing my face in everything I did wrong? It isn't funny. You don't get to do this… It's not fair, and you don't get to do this! You don't get to tell me for years that I was an idiot for not letting your sister help my teammates, and then just fall in a coma when I throw my life away to save you! You don't get to do that… I never… I never gave you permission… I'm your commander, and you're supposed to do what I tell you! I never gave you permission to fall in a coma, and you're going to damn well wake up NOW!" Her voice was cracking, and tears rolled down her cheeks as she felt herself unraveling. "Just… just... JUST ANSWER ME!" She stood up with such force that the chair flew back into the corner as she yelled at the unconscious girl in front of her. "OPEN YOUR EYES AND ANSWER ME! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME, SO WHY WON'T YOU WAKE UP?! WAKE UP AND CALL ME AN IDIOT AGAIN, YOU SELFISH BASTARD!" She collapsed to her knees, and began beating her fist on Emi's chest, trying to get that arrogant brat to open her eyes again. "I JUST GAVE YOU AN ORDER! I ORDER YOU TO WAKE UP RIGHT NOW, YOU INSOLENT BRAT! YOU HEAR ME?! DON'T JUST LIE THERE, I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! WAKE UP, YOU… you..." Her beating slowed as the tears grew more plentiful in her eyes, until she was barely trying anymore.
"Commander?!" Koume came into the room, and knelt by her side. "What are you doing?"
"I… I… I… I just..." Maho looked at Emi through teary eyes and clenching her fists before her, her voice cracking and meek. "It's not fair! I ordered her to wake up, and she just... She just won't respond! I gave her an order, and she refuses to do what I tell her! I'm the commander, and I'm ordering her to wake up! She's supposed to do what I tell her, so why won't she do as she's ordered?!"
Tick, tick, beep, tick, wheeze, tick, beep, tick, tick, beep, wheeze, tick, tick, beep…
There was a strange, almost dreamlike quality to the rhythm of the room. The clock on the wall ticked, the heart monitor next to Emi would beep, and the machine acting as her lungs would wheeze. This tragic rhythm, beating out an ode to Maho's failure to help her friend, was all she could hear as she sat there.
It had been two weeks since the finals, and Emi hadn't shown any signs of waking up. Still, Maho spent every waking moment beside the hospital bed, holding her hand and wishing with all her heart that Emi would stir, that she would open her eyes, and growl at her for being overly close. But no. The only growling came from Maho's stomach. Worry made her unable to sleep at night, and waiting by Emi's side day in and day out meant she barely ate.
"You know, it's really nice and warm outside today…" she said, glancing out the open window. "If you woke up, maybe I could buy us some ice cream?" She sighed, looking back at Emi's unmoving body. As if that was going to be the magic word. She was running out of ideas. She had ordered, she had tempted, she had pleaded and she had begged Emi top open her eyes and answer her, but nothing was working. Deep down she knew that that wasn't how comas worked of course, but for her own sake she had to believe there was something she could do, if she could just figure out what.
"I'm sorry…" she said, and squeezed Emi's hand tighter. "I should just let you rest…" An idea struck her. Something she had yet to try. "Is… is that what you want me to say? That I'm sorry?" Emi neither stirred or moved, but Maho continued anyway. She might as well try.
"Emi, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hesitated... I'm sorry I waited... If I just hadn't cared about the battle, I would have come to help you guys right away, and you wouldn't be in a coma... Instead I just tried to rationalize everything, and spent seconds you didn't have... And then, even when I decided it didn't matter, I was still too weak and cowardly to jump in after you... I'm sorry... Please forgive me…" She put a gentle hand on Emi's shoulder. "Come on, Emi… Please… I said I'm sorry… What else do you want me to do?" She collapsed back in her chair, a hand moving up to her face as she felt tears form. She was being stupid. Emi was in a coma, and there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing, except wait, and hope.
A few minutes passed, and behind her Maho heard the door to Emi's room open. "Any news?"
"All quiet on the western front…" she answered solemnly as Koume rounded the corner.
"No surprises there then," Koume sighed and sat down on the opposite side of Emi from Maho.
"How's the team doing?" Maho asked, glancing at Koume's uniform. She had come straight from practice again.
"All quiet on the western front," she repeated with a despondent smile.
This didn't surprise Maho. Even if she hadn't shown up to practice since the match, Koume had informed her of the situation. The team was tearing itself apart from the inside. Part of the team, mostly the hardcore believers in the Nishizumi style, were angry at Maho and Koume for 'causing the loss'. Those who did had closed ranks behind Miho, while those who didn't tried their best to keep spirits up and do their best for the future had fallen in line under Koume. With Maho absent, Koume was the team's de facto leader after all.
"You sure this is a good idea, Commander?" Koume asked.
"Yeah..:" Maho answered. They had debated it several times, but Maho was certain. Her showing up to practice right now could only make things worse. Not only would she be another target for those who were angry with her actions, sowing further discontent within the team, but as long as Emi's condition didn't improve, she wouldn't be of much use anyways. Her body might be at practice, but her mind would remain in the hospital.
"Alright then. If you say so…"
They sat in silence for a while, until Koume lifted her gaze and looked at Maho. "You should go home, Commander."
"No. I'm where I need to be…"
"No, you're not," Koume insisted. "I know you want to be here when she wakes up, and believe me, I get it. I really do. But you're not going to be of any help if you're collapsing from exhaustion when she does."
Maho wanted to argue, to protest. But she couldn't. In part because she was too tired, and in part because she knew Koume was right.
"Go." She smiled at Maho. "I'll stay with her while you're gone. And if anything at all happens, I'll call you right away."
Maho nodded in wordless acceptance, and got up from where she sat to leave. Just before turning the corner, she paused, and looked back at Emi and Koume.
There was a knock on the door, but maho ignored it.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed in her room, looking down at a small tattered and bandaged teddy bear in her hands. The one Miho had given her so long ago. The only reminder she had left of who her sister had once been.
There was another knock, and after a few seconds the door opened as Miho stepped inside. Maho glanced up at her sister in her uniform, but quickly let her attention fall back to the bear.
"Here." Miho spoke in cold and sharp tones, and held out a letter with the sigil of Kuromorimine stamped into the wax seal. When Maho didn't move to take the letter of her hands, she just threw it on the bed beside her. They both knew what it said anyways.
"You're being relieved of duty. The Alumni Association has revoked your command."
At first Maho didn't answer. She wasn't even listening.
"Did you hear me? Because of your failure to win the match, you're being relieved of…"
"Yeah. Sure." There was no emotion in Maho's voice either. No sadness, no reluctance, no begrudging acceptance. "I assume you got promoted then…"
"I did." Even if Maho wasn't looking, she could feel Miho glare at her. "The change takes effect at the end of the month. You have until then to clear your stuff from my office." Miho turned on the spot, and began to leave.
"You should keep Koume as your second," Maho said, despondent and vacant. "She's a good commander, and you could use her…"
"I will name whoever I damn please to the post," Miho answered and turned to look at Maho, disdain clear in her voice. "Didn't Mother teach you to look at people when they talk to you?" When Maho didn't answer, she stepped back towards the bed. "What is it even you're looking at?" The question wasn't asked out of curiosity, but Maho answered it as if it was.
"You gave me this, a long time ago, remember? You said it would stop me from feeling sad. I guess you were wrong…"
"Is that what you're doing?" Miho scoffed. "You lose us the most important match in the school's history, and now you just sit around here staring at a stupid kids toy?" She snatched the bear from Maho's hands, and held it up to look at it. "I guess Mother was right. She was too soft on you. If she hadn't been, maybe you wouldn't have been so weak." She grabbed the bear's head with her other hand and tore it off, throwing the remains in the trash can beside Maho's desk as she left the room.
Maho put down her pen and looked up from her sketchpad to gaze at Emi where she lay. "Well, I guess it's decided then… Miho's going to take over as commander," she said, and as usual, Emi didn't answer. "If you didn't want to wake up before, I doubt you'd want to now…" She forced a smile, not that her friend could see it. "Still… It'd be great if you did…"
She was sitting by Emi's side as usual, holding her hand and talking to herself. She had been keeping the one-sided conversation going for a few hours while she sketched, hoping that whatever subject she landed on was going to get Emi to wake up. But of course she didn't. She looked down at her drawing again. While she couldn't fault her technique, she didn't want to see it. Knowing Emi was just lying there lifelessly was hard enough. She didn't need a drawing to remind her, and she didn't think Emi would want a memento of the occasion either.
She sighed and tore the drawing from the pad, crumpling it up and letting it fall to the floor. "What's the point… it's not like you're listening…"
"Who knows? Maybe you being here is exactly what she needs?" Maho glanced beside her, and saw Koume leaning against the wall.
"Maybe…" she answered, not daring to hope. "Maybe…" But as Koume hobbled over to her chair on the opposite side and drew a few heavy breaths, Maho looked up to see the state her friend was in. Her uniform was rumpled and dirtied, which one might expect considering she was probably coming straight from practice, but the bluish swelling around her right eye told a different story. "Koume? What happened?"
"Oh, it's nothing, Commander," Koume answered, but the fact that she was in obvious pain and struggling somewhat for words betrayed her. "Just tripped, that's all…"
"Koume, don't lie to me. What happened?"
Koume looked down at Emi for a few moments, but leaned back in her chair and began to answer.
"Some of your sisters' followers jumped me after practice. Said, ow, said your failing to win us the championship was my fault." They had said a whole lot more as well, but Koume decided to keep that to herself. She sighed, and looked at the floor as she continued. "Erika was leading them… she's the one who gave me the black eye…"
For the first time in what felt like weeks, Maho began to feel emotion flare up in her again. A raging storm of anger started to build up within her. "Who else?" she said through gritted teeth, and balled her hands into fists as she looked at Koume. "Who else was there?"
"It doesn't matter…"
"It sure as hell does! No one's to blame for what happened except me, and the next time I see Erika I'll make sure your eyes match!"
"No!" Koume snapped back. "No, you won't. None of this is going to get better from more violence. Commander, please just let it be. What people think of me is my problem, just as what they think of you is yours."
"But Koume…"
"No. Leave it alone. We both know they're wrong, and that's enough."
Maho sighed, and leaned back as she let some of the tension in her body go. Koume was right. "Alright… If you say so."
She left the hospital shortly thereafter. She didn't feel tired, at least not physically, so she decided to go for a walk instead of simply making her way home. She didn't pay much mind to her surroundings or direction, and after a while she found herself at the stern of the carrier. The sun was setting over the horizon, bathing the skies in warm purples, reds, and oranges. It was a beautiful sight, and if she hadn't been so empty and hollow inside, Maho might have sat down to capture the moment to show Emi when she woke up.
When she woke up. Not if. When. She would surely wake up sooner or later, no? Surely, if Maho just kept being by her side and talking to her, one of these days she would open her eys and say something, wouldn't she? And once she did, Maho could refocus on Sensha-Do, and prove herself anew to her team. She would prove her abilities and strength until the alumni association couldn't ignore her any longer, and came begging her to take back command. Then she would deal with the girls who dared hurt Koume, and then, once she graduated, she would deal with her mother. She would go to Tokyo, she would find Ami, get a job in the federation, and then she would deal with her mother's cruel ways.
She sighed, and let her shoulders slump as she looked out across the endless sea. She could talk herself up however much she liked, but she knew it was never going to happen. When they docked in Kumamoto again, her mother would return to the carrier to "deal with her", and Maho imagined being called to the study would appear as a godsend compared to whatever awaited her.
Perhaps she would simply disown and disinherit her. No, that would get her off the hook too easily. Maybe she'd be taken out of Kuromorimine and become a prisoner in the family home. Maybe she would bring the creepy doctor along to inject her with more chemicals until her mind was just mush and she could do nothing but what she was told.
She looked down over the railing. When she had first enrolled at the school the guide had taken all new students on a tour of the carrier, and they had mentioned how high up the top deck actually was. Maho had forgotten exactly how high up they were, but she knew it was far. Far enough that there probably wasn't any risk of drowning if you fell off. You'd be dead the moment you hit the water, or at least beaten so senseless you wouldn't realize you were drowning.
She put a foot on the railing, and lifted herself up further. It would be easy to take another step over the edge. She'd reach the surface in seconds, and then she would be free. No more having to deal with her mother, no more regretting how she paved the way for Miho to become a fanatic, no more having to sit idly by while Erika and her cohorts beat up Koume. No more having to wait for Emi to wait up. She would be the one waiting instead. Waiting to see Maho again once she too arrived on the other side.
Maho had never been spiritual. While her upbringing had scarred her deeply and left her in staunch opposition to all her mother's values, the Nishizumi-sense of pragmatism had been difficult to disregard. What god or spirit would leave the world in the state it was in? Why concern yourself with what was to come in the afterlife if you couldn't take all you wished during your time on earth? And even if there was some omnipotent force or being out there, why would it care about any individual in a world of billions? Trillions, if you counted animals and plants. How vain a creature would you have to be to believe that any divinity would care about you? No. Either there was no "god" or there was one and they didn't care. The rest didn't really matter.
Maho sighed, and stepped back down to the deck of the ship. She sank down to the ground, and pulled her knees up towards her face. Even if it was a quick and easy exit for her to take, she was too much of a coward to do it.
"Koume?"
"What's up, Commander?"
"Are you doing ok? Like, really ok?" There was a new bruise on Koume's shoulder today.
"I guess so…"
"Koume… please…"
Koume sighed, and looked at Maho from across Emi's bed. "Don't worry Commander. I'm fine. I've gone through worse things than a little bullying. Almost drowning, for example." She chuckled and smiled, seemingly trying to put Maho at ease.
"I'm sorry, Koume… I really am…"
"About what? You've done nothing wrong, no matter what anyone says."
"About Erika… I know it's none of my business, but still, I'm sorry…"
"Oh…" Koume's smile disappeared as she looked down at the floor. "That… Don't think about it, Commander. I've moved past it a long time ago. It was just a stupid crush. I know she would never look at me like that. And the way she is now, I don't think I want her to either…"
"Still…"
"Although, she wasn't always like that…" Koume chuckled slightly, trying to lift her own spirits now rather than Maho's. "She used to always be kind and cheerful. She actually saved me once. Did I ever tell you that?"
"No, you didn't… We never talked much about what our lives were like before Kuromorimine…"
"Well, I was an outsider at my school. We had just moved, and no one wanted to be friends with the new girl, so I just spent my time alone reading. Some of the boys used to tease me for it. Quite often… Then teasing became picking on me, and then that became outright bullying. But then one day, Erika saw them and saved me. She was like a knight, scaring them off even though they outnumbered her five to one… And then she helped me to my feet, and we were almost always together after that… No one ever picked on me again, and then, well…"
"That's enough. You don't have to tell me any more. I get the picture," Maho answered in full understanding. The story was far too similar to her and Miho's for her to feel comfortable prying answers from her friend "Although…" She said tentatively, going against her own words. She knew it made a hypocrite out of her, but she was curious. "What happened?"
"I'm not entirely sure… We didn't talk much about it so I can only guess, but one year after summer break she was different. She was still the same friend I knew, but she was different. Her mom had passed away, I think it was cancer, and her dad was… well, he wasn't the best dad, let's just leave it at that. This was about the same time she got really into Sensha-Do, and I think it all kind of blended together in a way. She became colder, and even if she had always been hot-headed and loved winning, she began to hate losing, always talking about being the strongest of them all." Koume looked up from the floor. She had unconsciously bent forwards as she spoke, clasping her hands before her. Now she stirred in a nervous manner, sitting back upright. "B-but I'm just rambling… Don't think too much about it, Commander…"
Maho couldn't help but feel the edge of her lips form into a smirk. "Didn't you hear? I'm not the commander anymore. You really should just call me Maho."
"You're not relieved until Monday, aren't you?"
"I guess. But still…"
"Then you're still the commander, and I don't care what those old hags in the alumni association say. You're Kuromorimine's rightful commander, and more importantly, you're my commander. And nothing anyone writes on a piece of paper can change that."
Maho didn't respond, and Koume didn't push her. They both just sat there quietly, waiting for Emi to break the silence.
"I'm done…" Maho said with a solemn yet determined voice after a quarter of an hour. "I can't do this anymore…"
"I get it," Koume said reassuringly. "You go home and rest, and we'll see you tomorro…"
"That's not what I meant. I mean that I'm done with all of it. My mother, my family, this school, Sensha-Do, all of it. I can't do this anymore…"
"But then… what do you mean to do?"
"I'm leaving. When we dock tonight, I'm leaving, and I don't intend to come back."
"Commander, you really shouldn't. Where are you going to go? What are you going to do?"
"I don't know… But I know that wherever I end up going and whatever I'll end up doing, it can't be worse than this."
"Are you sure about this, Commander?"
Maho sat there for a second, but answered. "I am."
"And you're sure you've thought this through?"
"I have. I can't stay here anymore. I'll just end up making things worse, either for myself or for someone else." She looked up at Koume. "So, are you going to try and stop me?"
"What's the point?" Koume shrugged. "If you've made up your mind, you would take down a Ratte barehanded, and I don't think I compare favorably to one of those." She smiled at Maho.
"Thank you, Koume. Although, as my Vice-Commander, is it ok if I give you one last order? As a favor?"
Koume nodded. "Try to take care of them," Maho said to a Koume who didn't quite understand.
"Them, Commander?"
"Emi, Erika, Miho, the team, the school. All of it. I know it's a lot to ask, but I can't leave unless I know someone like you is looking after this place. Someone I trust with my life. I've tried to talk Miho into keeping you as her Vice-Commander, although I doubt she'll listen to me. Still if you could…"
"I will, Commander. It's a promise."
Maho took Emi's hand and gave it one final squeeze before getting up from her seat. She looked at Koume, and moved her right hand to her forehead in a salute. "Good luck, Koume. This team never had a better Vice-Commander."
Koume stood up and answered Maho's salute. "Nor a better Commander." They both lowered their hands, and Maho gave a silent nod as goodbye. She began walking towards the door, but just as she was about to open it, Koume spoke again.
"Commander? Can I ask a favor in return?"
Maho turned and nodded. "Sure."
"Please, just… just take care of yourself… Maho…"
Maho smirked. "So, that's what it took to get you to call me by my name. But yes, I'll take care of myself. It's a promise. Goodbye, Koume."
"Goodbye, Commander."
Maho left 'Black Forest' behind, and made her way towards the dorms and her room. Having packed her suitcase with what little she had brought to the carrier, she sat down by her desk. She opened the top drawer and got out a piece of paper and a pen, and began writing. A few minutes later she looked down at what she had written, and crumpled the paper up. It was too formal. She began anew, but again, once she looked at what she had written, it was no good. It made her sound like she felt guilty. She crumpled it up, and threw it in the trash. Another piece, another attempt, and another poorly worded letter.
After another fifteen minutes of this, she looked down at the page staring back at her, and was finally satisfied. It was simple, not too formal, and not too rambling. It laid out her thoughts and her actions, and made it evidently clear that she had no regret in what she had done or what she was about to do. She folded the letter twice over, wrote "For whomever it concerns" in big characters on it, and put the pen back in the drawer. She looked at the letter for a solemn moment, before reaching in under her desk and retrieving the envelope she had taped there. Inside was a few thousand yen, money she had saved for an occasion like this, hoping she would never need them. She put the bills in her wallet and placed it safely in the inner pocket of her trenchcoat before getting up from her chair.
But as she did, she accidentally knocked her trashcan over, spilling crumpled up paper all around her feet. She instinctively knelt down to clean it up, even though it soon wouldn't matter. She returned her failed attempts to the trashcan, but there was something else among them as well. The teddy bear Miho had given her. Its head was almost torn completely from its body, hanging limply by only a few scant threads. She gingerly picked up the bear, noting the irony of a bandaged and wounded bear being struck with an actual injury. Perhaps Miho had been right, and she was a moron for living in the past. The Miho who had smiled and laughed while giving her the bear was gone. Gone, and replaced with exactly what Maho had tried to prevent her from becoming. Perhaps even something worse. Still, just like she had to believe that Emi was only moments away from waking up, she had to believe that the sister she remembered wasn't gone. That perhaps, some day, Miho would laugh and smile together with her.
She sat there for a few minutes, just kneeling down and looking at the injured bear.
"Miho…" she said in a low voice. She had never named the bear, and for a lot of her life she hadn't even cared very much about it. It had simply been there to remind her of her sister and why she was doing all of this. But now it had instead become the only proof left that Miho had once been what Maho remembered her as. She opened her bag, and carefully placed 'Miho' inside, making sure it wouldn't rattle around and cause further damage to itself. She walked to the door, her suitcase behind her, and threw her phone on the bed. Perhaps she was being paranoid, but she had no intention of making it easier for her mother to find her once she left the carrier.
Once the Graf Zeppelin docked in Kumamoto, she made her way off the ship, using the steady flow of people doing the same to go unnoticed. Once she was away from the docks and a few blocks into the city she turned, if only for a moment, to look at the home she was leaving behind. She had lived aboard the carrier since she was 13, and before that she had been stuck in the Nishizumi family home rarely seeing the outside world. Now she was throwing it all away, with nothing but a vague hope that she could find what she was looking for. She turned her back on the Graf Zeppelin and continued into the city, getting on the train that would take her away from it all.
"Oh, just continue up this road to the top of the hill, take a left by the temple and then a right, cross over the alley, and it should be the third on the right."
"Thank you very much. Have a good day." Maho bowed to the old man, and continued on her way. Her journey looked like it was coming to an end. If she was right, that was. She had gotten off the train in Kyoto, and through a combination of buses, hitchhiking, and walking, had come to a small town in the countryside.
The gravel road crunched under her steps,, and she had given up entirely on treating her luggage with any kindness, dragging it behind her as it cut deep furrows wherever she had passed. She paused at the top of the hill and caught her breath, looking for the temple the man had described. She continued past the gates and turned left, following the instructions. She would have stopped and prayed, but the events of the past few weeks left her with little faith in the use of doing so.
After another turn and a few hundred meters, she had reached her destination. At least she hoped she had. She was standing in front of a decently sized house, looking like most of the ones around it. She took a deep breath, hoping she wasn't going to make a fool of herself, and knocked on the door.
After a moment, there was the sound of someone stirring inside, and after another few seconds the door to the house was opened by a man.
Maho breathed a sigh of relief. Everything she had practiced and prepared to say vanished from her mind as it was left vacant by the tension releasing its grasp on her, and she could do nothing but smile sheepishly as she opened her mouth and spoke in nervous tones. "H-hi dad…"
Next time on Dein Weg ist Mein Weg: Maho starts being haunted by nightmares and dark thoughts, even as she leaves her old life behind her.
Author's Notes:
So, another week, another chapter. And it became quite a long one at roughly 10.000 words. If anyone walks away from this chapter with dry cheeks you're an inhuman monster ;) But on a serious note, this chapter really brought out the feels in me writing it, and I hope it does the same for you the reader. Especially the scene of Maho seeing Emi in the hospital for the first time. I almost tear up just scrolling past it.
So, this week's events: Koume thankfully survives the events of the Pravda-match without major injury, while the same sadly cannot be said for Emi. This, as well as Maho's reaction during the match, was a series of events I thought up almost the moment I had the idea for the series. The fact that Emi calls Maho out in Little Army for doing what Miho couldn't in canon always struck me as a perfect case of dramatic rhythm, and I really wanted to use it for this. Getting Shiho and the KMM hardliners reaction to Maho's "mistake" to seem, if not right at least reasonable was certainly a challenge, and even if they are most certainly wrong in their belief that Maho did the wrong thing, I think I managed to at least get across why they feel that way. We also get to see Maho decide to leave everything behind and seek out a better or at least different life away for herself, how the Boko that appeared back in chapter 3 as a bit of a red herring in the Miho-cover up lost its head, and finally the fact that Maho seeks out Tsuneo, her father.
Next week will be the final part of this trilogy of flashbacks, and then I promise we'll return to the present and the tank café. Honest!
Thank you all so much for your support, especially for letting me know how much you enjoyed last week's weird mishmash of short stories. I really didn't feel confident in it, and getting to read your praise was really extremely motivating, so thank you all.
As always, I'd love to hear more of your thoughts, so please leave a review, if nothing else so I have something to talk about her next week.
Until then, Do svidaniya
/Rihno