Dein Weg ist Mein Weg

Chapter XXII

The Aftermath

Tokyo Prefecture

Ministry of Education, Culture, and Technology (MEXT)

Months Ago...

Anzu Kadotani had never considered herself a quitter. Ever since she was a kid she had always made bold proclamations on what she would achieve, and through sheer determination, tenacity, and luck, it seemed like nothing was out of her grasp, despite whatever odds stood against her. It was this drive that saw her passing any challenge or test fate threw her way, and it was the confidence her successes had inspired that made her certain her victories would be unending. She never let herself give up hope, and she always fought till the end, clinging to whatever shred of possibility she could find.

But at this moment, for the first time in her life, she felt the chances begin to slip away.

"You're… you're closing down Ooarai?" She looked at the man opposite her in the dimly lit office in disbelief. "Surely you're joking?"

She hadn't dealt with any bureaucrats in her life before, but the man appeared to be exactly what she had imagined they were like. He had short black hair, constituting a simple and boring haircut, glasses hiding what most assuredly were eyes without emotion, and a black suit in pristine condition. The simplest, and only way to describe him, was boring and unimaginative. The office was equally so, filled with filing cabinets from wall to wall, and both the many spreadsheets scattered across the desk, as well as the way the man spoke, made it evidently clear that this was a man who was more interested in his numbers than whatever they represented.

"Yes, on the first of September. Any students will of course be reassigned to new centers of education."

"But… but why?" She didn't understand. What had her school done wrong? And why did she have to be the one to see it to the guillotine?

"As I said, it is merely a matter of costs. Our government's policy is to cut spending, and I'm afraid ceasing operations of Ooarai Girls' Academy is merely a matter of practicality. The Zuikaku is not operating anywhere near peak efficiency, and an empty desk is a cost this government wishes to have removed. Never mind the few thousand at Ooarai. And after the tireless work of hundreds of administrators and a series of independent, inter-departmental committees, it has been decided that the benefits from her continued operations do not outweigh the costs."

"But… But… Isn't there anything we can do? Surely you can't just close us down?!"

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Kadotani," he said in a voice that made it clear he was in no way sorry. "This is not a matter of debate. I'm merely doing you a courtesy by letting you know this far in advance. As of the first of September, all operations will cease, and the ship will be sailed to Singapore to be scrapped. Thank you for coming, and have a good afternoon."

Anzu curled her hands up into fists against her knees and looked down while the man returned to his numbers.

"No…" Her mind was rushing with thoughts to the point of giving her a headache. She tried to find a solution, tried desperately to find something to cling onto, something that she could use to save her school.

"As I said, Miss, the decision has been made and is only waiting for approval. You will receive a formal notice some time in the coming months. If there was nothing else, then good afternoon."

She stood up from her seat, and took slow steps towards the door, glancing around while her mind continued to race with thoughts. In the corner of her eye, she saw a file with the text Projected costs: World Sensha-Do Championships.

"Sensha-Do…" she said in a low voice, the seeds of an idea beginning to take shape.

"I'm sorry?"

"Sensha-Do!" she repeated triumphantly, and turned around to face the man. "Japan will be hosting the first World Sensha-Do Championships, will we not?"

"I believe we will, sometime in the next few years. It's not my department really, and I fail to see what that has to do with-"

"And the ministry is trying to promote schools to fund Sensha-Do programs, to prepare the maidens of our country for this championship, no?"

"As I've told you, Miss, this isn't my department. I merely review and oversee cost-benefit analysis, but if you have anything to discuss with the director of cultural affairs-"

"And you wouldn't shut down the champion school of the Federation, would you?!"

"I suppose we wouldn't, no. But seeing as Kuromorimine, Pravda and the other "Big Four"-schools all operate at peak or near peak efficiency, I don't see any reason why we should-"

"So in other words, if Ooarai can win the National Sensha-Do championship next year, you won't close us down?!" She reached out an excited hand towards the man, expecting him to immediately see the logic in her argument.

Instead the man merely paused, and stared at her with a bemused expression. There was certainly a hint of annoyance in his face, but Anzu counted on this annoyance to work in her favor. He clearly wanted her gone so he could return to his numbers. The man raised an eyebrow and turned his gaze to the ceiling for a moment, clearly running some calculation in his mind or thinking her proposal over, before sighing and taking her hand.

"Very well," he said with a bored, smug sort of smile. "If you win the 63rd national championship, I'll recommend that the proposal be taken under reconsideration." They shook hands. "Now please, if there was nothing else; Good afternoon, President Kadotani.

"President. Welcome back!" Yuzu said with her usual smile once Anzu walked through the doors of the Student Council's office.

"Thank you, Yuzu," she answered, distracted, as she walked through the office with determined strides.

"How was your trip?"

"Eye opening." She sat herself down behind her desk, pulled out a notepad and pen, and began scribbling. "How much money do we have in the reserves currently, Miss Vice-President?"

"President?" Yuzu was taken aback by Anzu's unexplained seriousness. Not to mention her actually calling her by her title. "Did something happen?"

"It's a long story. I'll tell you later. Now, how much do we have in reserve?"

Yuzu turned in her chair and pulled out a folder from one of the filing cabinets, looking through the documents inside until she had an answer. "Just around two million yen."

"Inform the Treasurer that I'm funneling it all into restarting our school's Sensha-Do program for the next academic year."

"But President… we don't have a treasurer… The student assembly never elected one, so I've been fulfilling those duties…"

"Perfect. Then consider yourself informed."

"Might I ask why?"

"You might, but seeing as it's part of the long story, I'll tell you later." Anzu returned her focus entirely to the notes she had jotted down before her, as well as some scattered research she performed on her computer. "Do you have the lists of the incoming students?"

"Right here, Madame President." Yuzu placed the large folder containing the new students' information on Anzu's desk, and looked on in astonishment as her friend began looking through the lists with feverish intensity.

"Hey, Yuzu… Who's this?" She handed a file over to Yuzu, and continued looking through the rest.

"Oh, she's a transfer student from Kumamoto."

"I can see that, but who is she?"

"Oh…" Yuzu looked the file over, and relayed the information to the president. "Apparently, she ended up skipping a large part of her second year for some reason, so she would be repeating a year here."

"Yeah, I got all that from the file, but why does the name sound familiar?"

Yuzu walked back to her desk and input the name into her computer. A moment later, she was almost overwhelmed by the number of results the computer returned to her about this Nishizumi-girl and her family. "Well, apparently there's a pretty famous family of Sensha-Do practitioners by that name." The President clearly had something in mind, but Yuzu didn't know exactly what. "Anzu? Should… Should I reject her transfer? She made a pretty late application, but I let it through..."

"No, no… This is good…" Anzu said in a low voice, "We're going to need her if this is going to work..."

"If what is going to work?"

Anzu leaned back in her chair, put her hands behind her head, and grinned with a confidence Yuzu had never seen in anyone else. "We're gonna win the National Sensha-Do Tournament!"

Yamaguchi Prefecture

A Japanese Sensha-Do Federation Battlefield

Present Day...

"The Panzer 38(t), Ooarai Girls Academy's flag tank is no longer functional. Saunders University High wins the match, and advances to the next round."

Scattered cheers of joy and groans of disappointment made their way through the small audience that had gathered to watch what was supposed to be a rather uninteresting first match of the National Tournament. Saunders was one of the biggest schools in high school-Sensha-Do, a titan of the sport. Ooarai, for their part, was a school no one had heard of anywhere near the tournament for decades upon decades.

As the battle began, the result had seemed obvious to most. After the first engagement, Saunders would stand victorious, and that would be that. And yet, somehow, this small school no one had heard of had escaped Saunders net twice over, and even managed to lure their opponents into a trap of their own. It almost seemed like David would fell Goliath. But, in the end, as the match reached its climax and even the most disinterested spectator was on their feet cheering, the end had come. Not with a bang, but a whimper.

"Alas," Darjeeling said solemnly as she bowed her head, "It seems I was mistaken. Though I must say I am disappointed. I had high hopes for Ooarai." She shook her head gently back and forth a few times, and looked down into her tea with a look of intrigue in her eyes. "Regardless, I believe Nishizumi is still worth keeping an eye on…"

"Lady Darjeeling…" Assam said cautiously, testing the waters. "I admit that I was also impressed by Nishizumi's ability to lead Saunders into a trap, but… When you take into account the difference in numbers, in skill, not to mention experience… Ooarai were never going to win. Surely you see that? And even if the odds were even, and Ooarai were both well-equipped and well-trained, they still committed too many errors to hope for victory."

"I see…" Darjeeling took a sip of her tea, emptying her last cup for the time being, putting it down on the saucer neatly balanced in her lap. "And that is your assessment, Assam? That this was, beyond all else, a matter of errors?"

Assam pondered the question for a moment, sensing a trap, but ultimately found no flaw in her argument. "It is, Lady Darjeeling. Ooarai's many mistakes made their victory a statistical impossibility."

"Do you know of this saying?" Darjeeling asked, gazing out across the wooded battlefield as she handed her teacup to Rukuriri, to be stowed away for their return to the Ark Royal. "It is possible to commit no mistakes, and still lose. That is not weakness, that is life."

"Oh yes," Orange Pekoe piped in from her chair. "It's by Jean-Luc Pi-"

"Thank you, Orange Pekoe, that will be enough!" Darjeeling interrupted, and rose from her seat, making it clear the question was indeed rhetorical, and that the discussion was over.

"Thanks for the match, Angie. You almost had us there at the end!"

"Yeah, you too, Kay," Anzu replied with a smile as she shook the girl's hand. "As always, you're one step ahead of me."

"Eh, you'll catch up sooner or later," Kay laughed. "With your tenacity, you'll outpace me by miles the moment you actually hit a growth spurt."

"I guess you're right," Anzu chuckled. "Again, thanks for the match. We had fun."

"That's what it's all about in the end. You want a lift back to your staging grounds?"

"Nah, I'll be fine walking. Good luck in the next round." Anzu let go of Kay's hand, and for a moment her cheerful and cocky facade began to slip. "I mean it, Kay. Good luck."

"You got it. And don't let this get you down. You did great, and I'm sure your team will do even better next year. See ya 'round, Angie!"

"Yeah, see ya!" Anzu waved as Kay turned and walked towards her waiting jeep. She made sure to wait until Kay was out of both sight and earshot, before sighing and beginning her walk back to Ooarai's camp.

As she walked across the field at a modest pace, Anzu's mind was racing with thoughts, plans, and schemes. She had gone all-in on her plan to win the National Tournament, and instead of the triumphant pay-out she had hoped for, the house had taken it all away from her. She was back at square one, with nothing but a chip and a chair to her name, and she was running out of straws to grasp at.

Renegotiating her deal with Tsuji, the MEXT-official with whom she had made the agreement, was out of the question. She didn't even need to ask him. She knew there was no way he would see this defeat as anything more than proof of the righteousness of his decision. Still, she had never been a quitter, and she didn't intend to start now. And so, her mind instead pondered different options. Some more palatable to her than others.

As she neared Ooarai's camp, she expelled all these thoughts from her mind, and let her usual sense of clear determination and carefree tenacity return to her. She was the leader of these girls after all, and she was to appear a paragon of their school. Best not let them see me bleed, eh? she thought, and let a wide grin appear on her face as she climbed atop the 38(t).

"Hey, Everyone!" she called out, cupping her hands around her mouth to ensure she caught everyone's attention. "You all did great work in today's match! And even if we lost, we emerged stronger and better! It's obvious we can still improve, so let's give it our all, ensuring we'll get even further next time!"

There was an enthusiastic cheer from most of the team, as she had expected. Although, glancing over towards the Panzer IV, she could see Nishizumi looking gloomily towards the distance, but that would have to wait. Dealing with the commander was further down on her list of chores.

"And to show their gratitude to us for a hard-fought match; Saunders has invited us back to their camp for a post-match meal!"

Another cheer sounded, even more enthusiastic than the last, followed by excited murmurs among the members of the team. They all remembered the hospitality and generosity of Saunders during their meal before the match, and after a long battle, many a stomach was looking forward to another swipe at the buffet Saunders so graciously offered them.

"Alright! Let's go Ooarai!"

"LET'S GO OOARAI!"

The mass of gathered girls began shuffling over in the direction of Saunders' camp with the cheerful murmuring continuing, and Anzu climbed down from the 38(t).

"This is a bad idea…" Momo said in a low voice.

"Maybe," Anzu said with a shrug. "But it's the only choice we have right now."

"We should tell them."

"No, we can't," Yuzu protested, looking around to make sure they were out of earshot. "We already lost, so what's the point of breaking their spirits even more?"

"They'll at least realize how badly they screwed up! If they had fought better and we won, we wouldn't be in this situation," Momo hissed.

"Yuzu's right," Anzu concurred. "Dampening everyone's spirits won't solve anything."

"Then what are we going to do?" Momo asked.

"No clue." Anzu shrugged again, and looked out across the forests and hills they had fought on. "I'm still working on that."

"Madame President!" Momo said. "We have to do something!"

"I know. Hence why I'm working on it. But if you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them."

"We should contest the results!" Momo suggested. "After all, Saunders cheated!"

"No," Anzu replied absentmindedly, as she looked out across the field.

"They intercepted our communications with that balloon of theirs! And everybody saw it!"

"Well," Yuzu noted, "There's nothing in the rules prohibiting them from doing that. It might not have been sporting, but it wasn't cheating."

"I don't care! Too much is at stake here! We should go over to the judges right now and-"

"No," Anzu interrupted, more forcefully this time. "We knew going into this match that we would leave it either as winners or as losers. We're not gonna leave as sore losers." She shrugged and grinned, opening a fresh bag of dried sweet potatoes. "Besides; we've still got a few months until MEXT shuts us down. I'm sure a solution will present itself before then."

"But Madame President..." Momo protested.

"I'm sure a solution will present itself," she repeated, "And if not, we'll figure something out." Her tone alone made it clear there was no further room for debate on the subject. "Don't mistake me being content for me being ready to concede. I'm calling it quits when MEXT shows up in my office to take my desk away, and not a moment sooner."

"Maho? You coming?" Saori asked as she and the rest of the Panzer IV's crew began walking away from the wrecked tank. "We're gonna go over to Saunders' and grab something to eat. You know, since it'll still be a while before we're back on the Zuikaku."

Maho glanced at the quartet a few meters away, but didn't move from where she was sitting on the Panzer's hull, leaning back against the turret. "No… I'm not hungry…"

"Oh… Do… I mean… would you like some company? Or would you prefer to be alone?"

"You go eat something…" Maho said in a low voice. "I just want to be by myself for now…"

"Alright then," Hana nodded. "But please, do not be too distraught about the result. We all tried our best, and it was rather fun and exciting, was it not?"

"Hana's right," Yukari added. "We'll just come back better and stronger next year! Saunders won't know what hit 'em!"

"Right…" Maho forced a chuckle. "Just go. I'll be fine."

She remained in place for several minutes more after her crewmates left, simply closing her eyes and muttering to herself. One moment. That was how swiftly the victory had been ripped from her hands. If the treads had simply held for one moment longer, Hana would have gotten the shot off, and they could have won. If she hadn't acted on her vendetta against the Firefly, and instead tried to find Saunders' flag tank, they could have won. If she had noticed the radio surveillance balloon sooner, they could have won. She let the battle replay in her mind's eye, and at every turn, all she could see were her own mistakes, and how avoiding them would have allowed them to win.

She sighed, and jumped down to the ground. She tried her best to suppress habits from her days at Kuromorimine, but analysing the wreck of your tank after a battle was a habit that died hard. She walked a few laps around the Panzer IV, inspecting the various dents and scratches caused by the many shells that had bounced off it, and the larger dent in the left side of the tank where the killing blow had fallen. Most of her time however, she spent looking at the treads.

Just like she had done before the match, she went over every link of the treads, looking for wear and tear, or any other signs of damage. Inspecting treads had always been her least favorite task. Even the smallest tank had dozens of links, and it rarely took long for the task to become monotonous and mind-numbingly boring. Inspecting a damaged or in this case ruined track was even worse.

As she reached the end of the long chain of links, Maho noticed something. She went down on one knee, and disconnected the last link before the snapping point from the chain, turning it over and giving it another look. It looked fine. Almost like new, apart from the mud and remaining clumps of grass still clinging to it. She set it back down on the ground, and walked to the opposite end of the tread, making a similar inspection of the other failing link.

In most cases when a tread broke, it was either from excessive strain, regular wear and tear, or from a shell impacting with a link. The most common way this showed itself was by breaking the slots where a cylindrical rod was placed, holding the tread together. Either the rod snapped, which damaged the tread-links, or the slots broke and the tread fell apart.

But this link didn't show any signs of damage either.

That only left two options for how the tread had snapped. Either an entire link had shattered, or one of the rods had simply given out from prolonged use. Maho had never seen it happen herself, since Kuromorimine replaced the connecting rods regularly, but this wasn't Kuromorimine. This was Ooarai, where the Sensha-Do team was operating on a budget consisting of a shoestring and a few spare bolts, and the tanks were maintained by… Actually, Maho didn't really know who maintained the tanks. She had assumed the Student Council had at least, despite all the evidence to the contrary, found the wisdom to hire some professional mechanics. She never held any belief in the team's chances to win and thus continue existing after the first match, nor did she have any interest in commanding the team if it did, so she had just never bothered to ask.

Regardless of who maintained the tanks, it was Maho's responsibility as the Panzer IV's commander to keep an eye out for any damage or malfunctions. That was why she had laboriously inspected the tank from bow to stern before they all left for Saunders' camp this morning, looking over the turret, hull, machine gun and treads with just as much scrutiny as she would have if she was still at Kuromorimine. Except, had she really? She could have sworn she gave every link as much attention as a firstborn child, but she also knew how much she hated the procedure.

As if her head wasn't filled with enough depressing thoughts, suddenly another one was added to their dark chorus: She didn't inspect the treads properly. Ami always talked about how maintenance and proper inspection of one's equipment made all the difference in war, often speaking about how a single missing nail could win or lose an entire battle. Maho had always nodded, sighed, and rolled her eyes whenever the story came up, but now she truly understood.

The battle hadn't been decided by a few seconds at the hilltop. It hadn't been decided by any radio interception balloons, or Maho's vendetta, or Kay's style of command, or anything else. It had been decided by Maho, without her knowledge, and before the battle had even begun. She didn't inspect the treads, which meant she didn't see the rod that would need replacing, which meant the tread gave out at a critical moment.

She wandered around the abandoned camp for what felt like hours, but must have been less. The crews were all still over at Saunders' staging grounds for the post-match celebration, an invitation Maho had been alone in declining. This meant she was alone with her thoughts as she walked back and forth amongst the ruined tanks.

In her mind, the battle replayed as if on a loop, intercut with images and memories from the dream she had had this morning. It was eerie how true it had become. Azusa had been injured, all of Ooarai's tanks had been taken out, and now they had lost. A loss which Maho and the Student Council alone knew the true meaning of. It meant Ooarai was as good as lost and ruined. And just as in the dream, it was all Maho's fault.

Sighing, she turned and began walking in a new direction, towards the tent the student council had set up as their command post. She would change and get a drink of water, so at the very least she could get out of this damned uniform. As she walked, she pulled off the dark blue jacket and glared at it. She hadn't liked the color before, and she sure didn't now. She folded the suede leather jacket over her arm, and reached out a hand towards the flap of the tent.

But hearing voices from inside, she stopped herself, standing still and listening.

"...and you need to go talk to her, right now," Anzu encouraged, putting a hand on Azusa's right shoulder.

"Why do I have to be the one to do it though?" Azusa asked, brushing Anzu's hand off and readjusting her tank jacket. With her left arm in a sling, she was left having to hang it over her shoulders, and had to constantly shift it back in place.

"Why not? You've been doing great at this since the beginning. And considering I think you're the only one on the team she trusts right now, you're really my only choice, Azusa."

"And I assume you want to know how it went once I'm done, don't you?"

"Of course!" Anzu beamed and leaned back in her chair. "How else will I know how we should continue with the plan? Trust me, Azusa. This is going to work great. As long as you can keep Nishizumi from breaking down, this will all sort itself out."

Azusa sighed. "Fine. I guess I'll go-"

Their clandestine conversation was interrupted, as a far too familiar argument could be heard flaring up outside the tent.

"HEY!" Momo yelled outside the tent, before Nishizumi came falling backwards through the flap, with Momo following swiftly thereafter. "Who the hell do you think you are, just standing around eavesdropping, you sorry excuse for a commander?!"

"Momo. Nishizumi. How good to see you," Anzu greeted with a smile. "Anything I can do for you?"

Nishizumi glared back and forth between Momo, Anzu and Azusa as she got to her feet. "No," she answered through gritted teeth. "I don't want to interrupt your little meeting. And besides," she added, staring daggers at Azusa, "I was just leaving." She turned on the spot and walked out of the tent at a brisk pace.

"Commander, wait!" Azusa called as she tried her best to sprint after Maho. Which proved rather difficult with the pain flaring up in her shoulder. At least the medication she had been given by the medics made it possible to endure.

"Leave me alone," Maho growled.

"Just wait up a second! Let me explain!"

"Explain what?!" Maho stopped and turned on the spot, facing Azusa. "How all you've done is spy on me for that pipsqueak, lying to me since the beginning?"

"I wasn't spying on you, I just-"

"Azusa, look at my face. Do I look like I want to hear excuses?" Maho said coldly. "Especially after a match like this? You spied on me, reported on me to that manipulating extortionist, and you betrayed me! So why in the hell should I believe a single word of what you tell me?! Admit it; you lied to me!"

Azusa stood silent for a moment. "You're right…" she said in a low, ice-cold voice. "I lied to you…" A sense of warmth was flaring up in her cheeks and face, as all the anger she had dammed up in the back of her mind for the past five years came rushing forth in a single tidal wave of emotion. "I lied to you, just like you lied to me!"

"Don't try to blame this on me, Azusa! I never-"

"No, you did! You told me your sister was dead!" she yelled, red in the face and warm to the touch, her blood boiling from anger. "You made me think we were the same! I thought you understood what I had gone through! That you could see the pain and loss I've had to go through, and that you would know what it felt like! But you don't! You just lied!"

"Shut up…" Maho said in a low voice. "I don't need to hear this from a traitor like you. You listen to me, Azusa-"

"No! You're going to listen to me!" At this point Azusa could feel tears forming in her eyes and running down her cheeks, her voice on the verge of breaking, but she didn't care. "I thought you were different! I thought you would understand my pain, and that you actually saw me for who I am! But you don't! You're just like everyone else! All you see when you look at me is what you want to see! I'm a person! I have feelings, and thoughts, and ideas of my own, but no one ever sees me as myself! All the world ever wants from me is Irisa, and all you ever wanted me to do was replace your stupid, horrible sister!"

"SHUT UP!" Maho yelled back, and slammed a fist into the side of the Type 89 beside them. "You don't know what it feels like to lose your sister like tha-"

"You never lost your sister! You have no idea what it's like! You're just fighting, but at least your sister is still alive! Mine's not, and it doesn't matter how much I wish I hadn't been fighting with her, I will never get to apologize or make up with her! So you can take your sister and go back to hell where you came from!"

"Shut up, and get out of my sight, you backstabber!"

"You're just like her…" Azusa muttered.

"What was that?!"

"You and Miho! You're exactly the same! You only care whether you win or not, and you're both cold, heartless, and horrible! You've just deluded yourself into thinking you're somehow better than the rest of us!"

Maho scoffed, and glared at Azusa with exactly the same kind of look in her eyes that Miho had had that day in the tank café. "Well, if I'm so horrible, I'm sure you'll be happy to tell your master she can find herself a new commander for the team." Maho threw the jacket she held in her hand to the muddy ground, turned and walked away.

"Not that it matters…" she muttered to herself as she walked off towards the transports that would take them back to the Zuikaku.

"Aaaaah… Sensha-Do might be fun, but nothing beats getting to clean up afterwards," Saori said with a content smile as she sank into the bath beside Hana. Once the team got back to the Zuikaku, the first thing on everyone's mind was getting to clean off all the grime, sweat, and dirt from the battle at Ooarai's school bath, which the Student Council had graciously reserved for the team's use after the match.

"Indeed," Hana answered. "Although I worry about the Commander. Maho seemed very upset about us losing, did she not?"

"She's only lost two games of Sensha-Do in her life," Yukari noted. "Of course it would hit her hard."

"She's got the right spirit," Noriko added. "You don't become the best unless you're determined to win."

There was a general murmur of agreement from the rest of the team. At least the ones who were there. Azusa had elected to simply shower in her dorm, considering her injury, Maho had left the group the moment they returned to the carrier, and the student council had returned to their office for some sort of meeting.

"We just have to improve and get better until next year," Erwin said.

"Yeah," Caesar concurred. "We've come, we've seen, and next year, we will conquer!" she exclaimed and raised a fist to the sky, with the other girls joining in the cheer.

"It's a shame the tanks aren't useable at the moment," Saori complained. "I just wanna get back out onto that field and train. I mean, no boy is ever going to want to date someone who loses in the first round. For the sake of my relationship with my boyfriend, we need to get better."

"Since when do you have a boyfriend?" Mako muttered, half-asleep in the warmth of the water. Saori could only blush as the team laughed heartily at the joke. Thankfully they were all rose-cheeked enough from the warm water that no one noticed.

"My future boyfriend, then…" she added sheepishly, causing another round of snickering laughter at her expense.

"When did Nakajima say the tanks would be operational again?" Aya asked.

"I think she said it would be at least two weeks…" Yuuki answered, and a depressed mood fell over the team.

"Two weeks, huh?" Saemonza mumbled.

"You know, it's funny, but if you had asked me if I would feel this sad about not getting to ride around in Anky for two weeks when we first started, I would have called you crazy…" Saori said, with a longing sigh.

Nods of agreement could be seen from many. None of them, with the possible exception of Yukari, could have imagined they would become this smitten with Sensha-Do.

"Si vis pacem, para bellum," Caesar said, to the utter confusion of most of the team. Seeing the looks on her teammates faces, she graciously offered to translate. "If you want peace, prepare for war."

"Caesar is right," Erwin said. "The time between campaigns is the time to study and exercise, improving oneself for battle. "We might not be able to use the tanks for a while, but I'm sure instructor Chono will be happy to give us some theory to study. All war is won by doctrine, after all."

"Yeah," Yukari said excitedly. "I've got some great books I could lend you. If… if you want to… that is…"

"Call me crazy, but I never thought I'd be this excited about homework," Saori joked, and the gloom of not having the tanks available quickly disappeared, as the team unanimously decided that next year, they would be sure to reach the finals. Maybe they could even win?

"I still think we should have told the judges about what Kay did…" Momo said in a low voice.

"Firstly, we've already established that they didn't cheat, so I don't see the point in moaning about it. Secondly, I've known Kay for years, she's not the type to cheat," Anzu said, and swiveled around a few times in her chair. "And if she found out anyone on her team did, she couldn't have forfeited the match quickly enough," she added.

"And what about Níshizumi?" Momo growled. "She needs to be severely punished. Not only does that arrogant brat continually ignore and disrespect your authority, she cuts classes at her own discretion. And now she lost us the tournament. She deserves to-"

"Leave it, Momo," Anzu interrupted. "Let's focus on the big problem for now. I don't want to hear another word about Nishizumi from you until we've solved this somehow."

"What if we reached out to the Federation for support?" Yuzu proposed.

"Maybe if we had actually achieved anything in our short stint as a Sensha-Do powerhouse," Anzu said dryly, looking out across the Zuikaku through the large window behind her desk. "But as things stand, I doubt they even realize we exist."

"Then we'll tell Captain Chono!" Momo exclaimed. "She's part of the Federation, isn't she? If we could get her backing us up, they have to listen!"

"I don't think she has any more say in what goes on in the Federation than Akiyama has in how I run this school…"

"But surely there is something we can do? Someone we could convince with the influence to help stop this?" Yuzu asked.

"Maybe. Whatever the case may be, this problem isn't going to solve itself on empty stomachs and exhausted minds. We'll pick this up again tomorrow. Maybe sleeping on the matter is all we need to do to solve it?" Anzu sprung out of her chair, and walked around the desk towards the door. "Meeting adjourned. Any volunteers for closing the office?"

Yuzu and Momo glanced at each other, but Yuzu struck first. "I think Momo would be overjoyed to close the office."

"What? Why should I have to-"

"How many shells did you fire today?" Yuzu asked with an innocent smile. "And how many hit, Sweetie?"

Momo glared at Yuzu for a moment, before grumbling to herself. "Fine… but stop calling me Sweetie…"

"Thanks, Momo!" Anzu said, and waved as she walked out the doors of the office, with Yuzu in tow. "See you tomorrow."

Momo continued to grumble and mutter to herself as she went about cleaning the Student Council's office. Sweeping the floor, vacuuming the President's chair for crumbs, turning off the computers, and clearing off any trash from the desks.

As she passed by Yuzu's desk, heading towards the door to leave, she noticed one of the drawers wasn't closed properly, and a file was sticking out half-way through the gap between desk and drawer. Yuzu really needs to learn to shut her drawers better, she thought, and opened the drawer to return the file to its proper place. But then she saw the text on the front of the folder.

Nishizumi, Maho

Even though her anger had receded somewhat as she went about the office, suddenly it returned with a vengeance. She could feel her blood begin to boil again at the mere thought of the narcissistic bitch the President insisted should be in command of the team, and she began to look through the file in a fury. Yuzu was always one to look into things properly, so surely she must have found something, anything, that they could use to get rid of the commander. Now that they had lost the tournament, Nishizumi didn't have any further use for Ooarai anyways.

As she read on, an idea began to form in her mind, with the President's words appearing fresh in her head. "I don't want to hear another word about Nishizumi from you until we've solved this somehow." Momo felt her lips form into a smug grin, and she almost began to giggle from excitement at the prospect. "Perfect... This will solve both our problems at once…"

As Maho entered her dark apartment, she didn't even bother turning on the lights. She just kicked off her shoes, walked into the room, and collapsed onto the bed. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was a raging typhoon of anger, sadness, hurt, and cold bitterness. She cursed the pipsqueak for dragging her into all of this, and she cursed Azusa for betraying her and spying on her all this time. She cursed the cyclops for simply existing. She cursed herself for not checking the treads properly. She cursed the voices in her head for taunting her, and her psyche for continuing to present her with the darkness that filled her. She even cursed Emi for refusing to wake up from her coma.

She threw the covers over herself, cursing the world and everyone in it for doing nothing but causing her pain and pushing her towards the abyss. In all the world, there was only a single point of light for Maho to cling to as she dozed off; Ooarai had lost, and even though it was her fault, at least she would never have to do Sensha-Do or get back in a tank ever again.

Once sleep took her into its embrace, Maho once again found herself in a city. And just as the night before, Ooarai was destroyed and in ruins, its empty streets drowned in a never-ending rain. The ruined town was quiet, the only thing one could hear beyond the deafening thunder and rain being the rumble of a tank's engine and the clatter of its treads, and a voice calling out for something.

This dream was still fresh in her mind from the night before, and she knew she couldn't stay where she was. Her flaming doppelganger was out there somewhere, hunting for her, wishing to see her tortured and destroyed. She ran through the streets as quickly as she could, trying her best to find shelter and somewhere to hide.

But without even noticing it, it soon became evident she had gone the same way again. Burned and crumpled husks of tanks began to line the streets, with the lifeless bodies of the Sensha-do team lying nearby. She continued through the ruins, the sound of tank treads getting ever closer as she made her way down street after street. She needed to run, and she needed to hide.

But there was no place to run, and there was no place to hide. Having passed the park turned to mud with the M3, Panzer IV, and 38(t) in, making sure not to go anywhere near the remains of the American tank, Maho soon found herself in a dead end. When she turned to try and find another route, she found that her escape was blocked. The black tiger had cut her off, and her infernal clone stood before her, ready to strike.

"There is no hiding from a Nishizumi," the phantom said with a wicked grin, and grabbed Maho by the throat. She tried to struggle and get free, but the burning agony around her throat made any real resistance impossible. It smirked at her, and struck its hand right through her chest.

She again awoke in the alley of the ruined city where she had begun, sharp jolts of pain shooting like lightning through her heart, and her breathing heavy.

She tried to calm herself and gather her thoughts for a minute, but soon realized she needed to move. Surely there had to be some way to escape that monster? This time she deliberately tried choosing a different path than the one that had led her towards the town square. But it didn't matter. Once again, it was only a matter of time before the black Tiger caught up with her, and her hunter found and killed her.

She awoke in the alley once more, with even more pain flowing through her veins from where the flames had licked her and the clone had struck. Another path, another attempt, and yet again she was caught and killed.

She found herself waking in that alleyway countless times, and every time she felt weaker than before. It was as if the wounds her hunter inflicted upon her stayed with her whenever she woke up again, and slowly sapped her strength away as the pain and fatigue she felt from the cumulative deaths began taking its toll. Every time she woke up, she tried to make her way through the city in search of escape or sanctuary, but every attempt was as fruitless as the last. Sometimes she found a ruined building to hide in, or a pile of rubble to dive behind when the Tiger passed. Sometimes she just kept running through endless streets in search of a way out. Sometimes she even tried just remaining in place in the alley.

But it didn't matter. It never did.

No matter what she tried, the Tiger always found her, and her doppelganger always killed her.

In the distance, she could hear the rumble of the tank's engine echo through the streets, but she could do nothing but sigh as she hid behind what remained of a collapsed wall. She still couldn't make out what the voice was calling out for, or from where it came. She was sure it didn't come from her doppelganger, but there was no one but her and it in the ruined city. At least not that was still alive.

Whatever it was, she could hear it coming closer. She huddled herself up more tightly as she ducked behind the wall, and tried holding her breath as much as she could. In the silence she could hear footsteps. In the distance the tank was still rumbling, so it couldn't be the other Maho. Who was it? Or rather, what was it? The footsteps were joined by a sizzling sound as whatever it was came closer and closer, and then suddenly stopped. The footsteps died out, even as the sizzling sound remained. It couldn't be more than a few meters away from where Maho was hiding behind the crumbled wall. The voice that called out could be heard again, and it was clear that whatever it was that was calling out, and whatever or whoever it was calling out for, it was the same thing that was on the other side of the wall.

Maho held her breath, and placed a hand over her mouth to try to keep herself from making any noise, but an idiotic sense of curiosity seemed to grasp her. She knew she had to remain hidden. She knew she couldn't allow herself to be found. She knew, with all her heart that this was a stupid and suicidal idea. But against her better judgement, she slowly began leaning forwards, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was standing on the other side of the wall.

Peering ever so slightly beyond the only protection she had, Maho peeked at the street on the other side. Standing in the rain, it's head turning slowly back and forth as it scanned its surroundings, was another Maho. But it wasn't the one hunting her in the black Tiger, the one made from purple flames. This was a different Maho. One constructed from tip to toe out of flames black as obsidian, standing there in complete silence as the rain fell on its flaming body, small trickles of steam flowing up wherever the cold rain met its burning form.

The black fiery Maho lifted a hand to its mouth, and called again. It was a strange and incomprehensible sound, and yet it seemed so familiar to Maho. The clone lowered its hand back down, and almost seemed to sigh. But then, out of nowhere, it turned its head sharply, and stared right at Maho.

"There you are…"

That was the last Maho saw of the ruined city and her burning doppelgangers. Her eyes opened, and she was back in her apartment. She drew a few deep breaths, and reached a hand up to her face. Her cheeks were wet. She sighed and sat up on the edge of the bed, picking up her phone. It had been a while since she had last felt the urge, but with the loss and the dream both weighing on her mind, she couldn't fight it any longer.

She opened her contacts, and scrolled through the miniscule list to bring up dad's number. She hesitated a moment, looking at the window where the sun's light had just begun to shimmer through the blinds. She let her thumb hover over the 'call'-button for a moment, staring down at the small green symbol as if it would solve everything. She sat there for minutes on end, before sighing, and putting the phone away.

All she wanted in that moment was for dad to comfort her. For her to feel him hugging her and telling her everything was going to be fine. She wanted nothing more than to call him. But what was the point? Even if she called, he wouldn't pick up. Of course he wouldn't. She knew he would never answer another call from her ever again. She let him down, and she knew he would never forgive her...

Next time on Dein Weg ist Mein Weg: How did Maho let Tsuneo down? What scheme has Momo come up with? And how will Anzu manage to keep Ooarai afloat?

Author's Notes:

A fair amount of doom and gloom this chapter, as everyone deals with the fact that Ooarai has lost in their own way. The story continues on this side-track I've created for it, but it seems all is not lost. Anzu is after all a crafty one, and who knows what she might be able, willing, and most of all capable of doing to save Ooarai. Or maybe Momo's plan will be the one to come to fruition? Or perhaps, there is something else happening here, hidden among everything else. Who knows? I look forward to letting you all know as we continue through the story.

As always, I greatly appreciate any thoughts, input, or feedback, so feel free to leave a review.

Until next week, arrivederci!

/Rihno