Dein Weg ist Mein Weg
Chapter XXIII
The Lost and Found
"Damnit…" Azusa swore under her breath, and put down her bag on the floor. Obviously she wouldn't be able to both hold it and unlock the door to her dorm room with the same hand. Which was of course her only option, seeing as her left arm was near imobile in its sling. She sighed, fished around in the bag with her free hand, and got the door unlocked. The next few weeks are going to suck, she thought as she tugged the tank jacket she had hanging over her shoulders back in place.
With more annoyance than difficulty she opened the door and got both herself and her bag inside, with the door thankfully springing back closed behind her. After the day she had had, rising early in the morning to disembark, fighting in the match against Saunders, getting her shoulder dislocated and then put back into place, and finally fighting with Maho, she really just wanted to take a shower and go to sleep. But the universe, it seemed, had different ideas.
"What?" she asked with an annoyed sigh into her phone as she answered. "Oh, hi. No, it's fine. I've just had a rough day is all." It was her mom, who if she was honest, she really didn't want to talk to right now, but she gritted her teeth and mustered the energy to keep life in the conversation. It was what Irisa would have done.
"Azusa? You sound tired. Is something the matter?"
"It's nothing. We just had a match today, and it was pretty exhausting."
"What? A match?" her mother asked. "Since when have you been interested in sports?"
"Since the start of the semester," Azusa answered. "I'm on the Sensha-Do team. I'm actually commanding our biggest tank..."
"Sensha-Do?" her mother asked with concern. "Azusa, are you sure that's the right thing for you? I would have thought the debate team or perhaps orchestra much more suited to your talents. Just like Irisa did." There it was. Just the sort of reaction she had expected, and the reason she hadn't actually told her parents that she had joined the team.
"It's fine, Mom. I get to share a tank with my friends, and we're having fun. We just met one of the biggest schools in the country, and their commander was perfectly civil and friendly. Everything went great, even though we lost. I really only have myself to blame for the shoulde-'' Crap.
The tone on the other end of the line instantly grew far sharper and concerned. "What do you mean you have yourself to blame?! What's happened to your shoulder, Azusa?!"
"Don't worry about it. It got dislocated after we took a hit, but it's fine now. I'll have to wear a sling for a while, but-"
"Azusa, you can't go around hurting yourself like that! Irisa would never have gotten involved in such violence. Especially if it got in the way of her studies. You're not letting your grades slip just because of all this tanking around, are you?"
"No, Mom, my grades are fine. I still have a 95-point average-"
"Good. You're going to need good grades to get into a good college and get yourself a good job. So if your grades start to slip, or you hurt yourself like this again, I want you to quit the team and refocus on studying. That's what Irisa would have-"
"Sure," Azusa said coldly. "I'll think about it. Bye."
"Azusa-" Her mom didn't get any further, as Azusa slammed the two halves of her flip-phone together and threw it onto her bed. She was getting angry again. Of course they would tell her that. Of course they would tell her what Irisa would have done. She knew Irisa would never do something as stupid and unproductive as Sensha-Do. She glanced over to the mirror in the hallway, glaring at the image of Irisa staring back at her.
Except Irisa wasn't staring back at her. She wasn't there. Instead there was just a girl. A girl with dirty and greasy short brown hair, wearing a sweaty olive tank top, a dirty white skirt with muddy boots on, her arm in a sling and a stained jacket draped like a cape over her shoulders. Irisa was nowhere to be found, and instead Azusa stood alone in the mirror, looking back at her torn and tattered self.
Her anger began to mix with sadness, and something else she couldn't place. Irisa was gone, and as long as she kept up this stupid charade of thinking she could be someone else, thinking she could ever be something as moronic as 'herself', her sister would never come back. Maybe she should quit the team? If she did, she could go back to giving the world Irisa back. And she wouldn't have to be forced to talk to Maho ever again.
She curled her right hand into a fist. It was all Maho's fault. It was her fault her shoulder was dislocated, it was her fault she thought she could be anything but Irisa, and it was her fault that she was angry. What right did Maho have to lecture her on loss? Her sister was still alive, and Azusa's wasn't. Maho was just as cold and bitter as her sister, and she didn't deserve even a drop of Azusa's pity. What could Maho ever possibly know or understand about loss?
Kyoto Prefecture
A small town in the countryside
Months Ago…
"...and I'll see you again next week for another session."
"Yeah, sure…" Maho muttered, grabbed her bag, and left. Doctor Omori was in no way a bad therapist, especially this far out in the countryside, but nevertheless Maho hated going to their sessions. Even though he let her dictate the pace all according to what she felt ready to talk about, she always felt like he thought there was something wrong with her. Something about how he spoke and how he handled their sessions made it seem as if she was nothing but a fragile child in need of pity, and that she could break at the slightest disturbance.
She sighed as she exited the building and began the short walk home. It was cold out, despite the sun being at its zenith, and the layer of snow still on the sidewalk crunched beneath her feet. She still wasn't entirely used to life in the small town after having lived so long in Kumamoto and the enormity that was the Graf Zeppelin, even after all these months, but she could at least appreciate that everything was within walking distance. Not that she'd be here for much longer.
For the past few days and weeks, Maho and her father had been looking over the possibility for her to finish up her high school-education, starting her second year over at a new school. They had looked through brochures, websites, and pamphlets of every school-carrier in Japan, from Okinawa to Hokkaido. At last that's what it had felt like.
All the big schools had of course been removed from the list of options immediately. Even though her father had more than a decent income and could afford to pay the tuition, Maho had no intention of going anywhere near a school where their proficiency at Sensha-Do was part of the prestige. The moment she set foot at Saunders, Pravda, or St. Gloriana she would be instantly recognized and driven mad with requests to join the team. A lot of medium-sized schools had been discounted for similar reasons, and most schools with home ports in the south had been removed simply for their proximity to Kuromorimine, and by extension, Kumamoto.
This hadn't left Maho with many remaining options. But as she continued looking through the lists, she found a place that, while perhaps not inviting, at least seemed suitable for her to live out her two years of high school in anonymity; A small school on the coast of Ibaraki prefecture. Now all that was left was to sign the transfer forms and send them in.
"I'm home!" she called into the house as she walked through the door, stopping in the hall to take off her shoes and put her bag down. When there was no reply she called again. "Dad?! You here?" Again, nothing but silence. She supposed he could have gone out do some grocery shopping or something, but he was usually home at this time. "Oh well," she said to herself and shrugged as she walked into the house, turning the corner to the kitchen.
"Dad? DAD?!" She almost fell over her own feet as she rushed across the room. On the opposite end of the kitchen was her father, lying collapsed and unmoving on the floor.
Six months. That's how long ago she had left the Graf Zeppelin behind and made her way to the countryside in Kyoto in the vain hopes of finding her father. Six months ago she had been sitting in the lobby of Black Forest, listening to the ticking of clocks, the rasping of pencil on paper, and the occasional call over the tannoy as she waited for word on Emi.
Fate had a cruel habit of rhyming with itself it seemed, for now she was again sitting in a waiting room, listening to the ticking of clocks and the rasping of pencils. At least this time she didn't need to wait for as long.
"Nishizumi?" a nurse asked, looking at her as he came walking out into the waiting room. Seeing as Maho was the only one there, it wasn't a difficult guess to make.
"Yeah," Maho answered and nodded.
"You can follow me," the nurse replied, and turned back and walked through the large doors into the area where the patients were. After a few quick turns, they arrived at a large room with 8 beds, all of which were empty except one, in which her dad was lying. He was lying back against the raised back of the bed, reading a book while the heart monitor beside him beeped and the bag of clear fluid beside him slowly dripped through a tube into his arm.
"Hiya, Honey," he said with a smile and lifted a hand in greeting, putting the book down in his lap. He turned to the nurse for a moment, nodding in appreciation. "Thank you."
"Not at all. Happy to help," the nurse answered, and left the room.
"Are… are you alright?" Maho asked as she walked over to a chair beside her dad's bed. "You're not sick?"
"No, I'm fine," he answered with a reassuring smile, reaching a hand out and ruffling her hair a bit. "I just fainted is all. You're not getting rid of me that easily."
Maho didn't say anything in answer, and instead just raised an eyebrow and looked at him with a worried yet accusatory eye.
"Can't get anything past you, now can I, Maho?" he said and chuckled, before sighing. He put his hand on hers as he continued. "It's just my blood pressure. It's been getting low as I get older, and as it turns out, sometimes that leads to fainting."
"It's never happened before though, has it?"
"It happened once or twice a few years ago. Since then I've been taking medication to help my body keep up."
"So why didn't the medicine work?"
"I'm sure it would have, if I had had any to take." She looked at him in confusion, and he added, "I simply forgot to get my prescription refilled, and ran out. I was about to go into town to get more when I collapsed. Nothing more than that."
"You should have told me…" she said in a low voice, and looked over towards the windows, trying to hide the tears that were starting to form in her eyes. "Do you understand how scared I was? You can't just collapse like that and make me think you're dead!"
"I'm sorry, honey. I really am. And maybe you're right, and I should have told you. I just… I just didn't want to scare you. I just thought… I mean… after all you had gone through when you came here… It didn't feel right to drop that on you…"
"You didn't want to scare me?" Maho asked dryly. "We'll guess what? You failed. I was absolutely terrified! I thought you were dead!"
"I understand that… and again, it was never my intention to frighten you. It was all just an accident, and it's not gonna happen again. I'm not going to die anytime soon."
"But what if you did?!" She turned back to look at him, holding his hand tightly, as if letting it go would allow him to fade from this world. "If you had died, I would have no one left. I'd be all alone, and I don't know what to do if that were to happen."
"You're a smart, friendly, beautiful, and above all caring young woman, Maho. You would be fine even without me."
"I'm not though…" she said in a low voice and looked at the floor. "I'm just a horrible person who keeps getting people hurt…"
"Honey, look at me." He put a hand on her shoulder, and showed a caring smile as she glanced at him. "You are not horrible. You're one of the bravest, most caring and wonderful people I have ever met. And anyone who tells you otherwise is lying." He leaned forwards to hug her, and she accepted the embrace. "And even if I was gone, you would still have your friends to help you, no?"
"What can they do?" Maho muttered, and broke free from the hug, returning her gaze to the floor. "Emi's in a coma, and as soon as she wakes up her mom's probably gonna drag her back to Germany and make sure I never see her again. Koume's still at Kuromorimine, and I can never go back there. And I haven't seen Ami in years, not that I have a clue where she is.
"What about this new school then? I'm sure you'll make friends there to help you?"
Maho didn't for a second believe that she would make any friends at her new school. Not that she wanted any even if she could. Once she set foot on that carrier, she had no intention of ever appearing on anyone's radar. She wasn't going to make friends, she wasn't going to get in trouble, and she would just relish in being the quiet kid in class no one ever remembered existed. But of course she couldn't tell him that, so instead she just nodded.
"And even if you don't, you can always rely on your mothe-" Her father didn't get any further. The mere beginnings of the utterance of the word caused Maho to glare at him, and anger to fuel her veins.
"Don't even joke about that, Dad," she said through gritted teeth, and let go of his hand. "If I never see that horrible woman ever again, it would still be too soon. And I can't believe that you'd even bring her up. You should know better."
A look of sad understanding appeared on her father's face, his smile vanishing in an instant. "Maho, please… let me explain..: Your mother's not who you think she is…"
"What is there to explain?!" She rose from the chair and tried her best not to shout. They were still in a hospital after all. "That she's a cold and bitter monster who should never have been allowed anywhere near children, or civilization in general?! That she's so hellbent on Sensha-Do that she'd rather see me crack under the pressure she put on me than actually give a damn about how I was feeling or who I was? Or that she took my sweet and innocent sister away from me and turned her into just as terrible a creature, if not worse?!"
"Shiho might be a complicated woman, but that's not what I mea-"
"You're going to take her side?!"
"I'm not taking anyone's side, Maho. I just want you to know that-"
"I don't believe this! You disappear for a decade, leaving me and Miho alone with that monster, and now you want me to try and see things from her point of view?! I'm your daughter, and she beat me! She pushed me to the point that I hurt myself just to feel better about my life, and even considered ending it all! If you're just going to cling to some strange demented memory of what she might have been like when you met, then I don't want to hear it! And if you still think that I should, then you're an even worse parent than she ever was!"
She stormed out of the room, tears streaking down her cheeks while her dad called out after her from his bed, but she refused to listen. She just put her hands in her pockets, and continued out of the small hospital, leaving her father behind. She was too full of emotions to speak to anyone anyways, and just needed to get away.
She must have been walking around for hours, her hands in her pockets and grumbling to herself, her breath forming puffs of steam in the winter cold. Why the hell did he have to bring her mother up? She was the last person Maho ever wanted to see, and most certainly she could never rely on her for help if dad actually did die. If anything, she was the origin of all her troubles. If dad had just taken her and Miho with him when he disappeared, none of this would ever have happened, and she wouldn't always feel like she was on the verge of breaking down completely.
Whether it was because of the air cooling further as the sun began to creep towards the horizon, or just because she had taken enough time to get everything out of her system, after a while she felt her burning anger recede a bit, and she began to calmed down. She stopped and sighed, glancing at the sun. It was getting late. She had been gone for a while, and despite what happened and how little she cared for dad bringing up her mother, there was no point in arguing about it. Supposedly he had a point with bringing her up, not that Maho could see what. She tucked a hand into the pocket of her jeans to pick up her phone, but found it empty. The same with her other pockets.
Just perfect… she thought. I guess I left it at the hospital, huh?
She sighed again. Of course she forgot it. Why would she remember to bring it along when storming out of the room? Oh well, she needed to go back and apologize for leaving regardless. She turned a corner and began making her way back towards the hospital. It quickly became apparent that she was a lot closer than she had thought. It seemed she had subconsciously remained close even through her anger.
"Welcome, are you here as a visitor?" the nurse at the reception desk greeted with a friendly smile.
"Yeah," Maho answered. "I'm here to see my father."
"Oh, how sweet of you to think about your father like that. What's his name?" She began looking through a list before her. "
"Nishizumi," Maho answered. "He's in room 103 I think."
"Alright then, let's see.." The nurse's words quieted and tapered off, and she glanced over to Maho. "You said Nishizumi, right?"
"Yes, that is correct. Tsuneo Nishizumi."
"I… I see… Would you please wait here?" She got up from her chair and began walking away towards a set of doors.
"Is there a problem?"
"Please wait here. I will be right back."
Seeing as she still hadn't been signed in, Maho saw no other option than to do as she had been asked, and sat down on a bench in the waiting room. After a few minutes, the nurse returned. Walking beside her was a serious looking woman in what Maho assumed was her mid-thirties, wearing a long white coat. She was clearly a doctor.
"Miss Nishizumi?" the doctor asked. Her voice was steady and serious, but it still held a hint of caring warmth.
"Yes?"
"Doctor Yonamine." She reached out a hand towards Maho, and after a moment's confusion, Maho accepted it. The woman's handshake was firm yet cordial.
"Maho Nishizumi. Is there a problem? My father hasn't fainted again has he?"
The doctor sighed and looked at the floor for a moment, before looking back up at Maho. "I'm afraid I must be the bearer of bad news…"
Maho could only stare blankly at the doctor before her once she had finished speaking. She felt distant, as if she wasn't quite within her own body, and instead watched the scene from afar.
"I… I'm sorry… I… I don't understand…" But of course she did understand. The words just didn't make any sense to her, her mind refusing to accept the finality of what it was hearing.
"I'm sorry, Miss Nishizumi. I wish there was more we could have done, but sometimes fate is cruel to us."
"No… I… that… that doesn't make sense… I… I was just here… I was just talking to him… He… He just had some low blood pressure… that's all… He… He told me he wasn't going to die…"
"I am sorry, Miss. Truly. You have my condolences." She was speaking in the sort of voice Maho would normally imagine one built up after a few years of giving people bad news. Warm, caring, and apologetic, while simultaneously also cold, detached, and disinterested.
"No… that… that can't be… that can't be right… He… He wasn't going to die… He… He needs to still be alive… I need to tell him I'm sorry… He's.. he's not… he's not…"
Maho didn't so much think as act, her body moving on its own and her mind letting go of the controls, as she bolted past the doctor and through the large double doors, refusing to hear the woman call out for her to stop as she sprinted down the corridor. She was lying. She had to be. Dad wasn't dead. He couldn't be. He wouldn't just die like that without letting her apologize and say goodbye. He had told her that he wasn't going to die, and he would never lie to her, so obviously he was still alive. He had to be. He would never leave her alone like that. He must have just thought this was a great big joke, to get back at her for yelling at him, and he must have gotten the doctor to go along with it. That was what was happening here.
But of course, as Maho reached the room where her father had been lying just a few hours ago, reality finally caught up with her, despite her running as fast as she could. The bed was empty, and the sheets removed. The heart monitor was turned off, and there was no bag hanging to drip fluids into his non-existent body. As realization dawned on her, and continued denial became an impossibility, she moved through the rest of the five steps of grief in an instant. Anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance all crashed into her at the same time like a tidal wave, and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing like a child.
"It's not fair…" Maho muttered under her breath, and shuddered against the cold. A week had passed since her father passed away, and she was sitting on the porch of the house, her legs tucked close to her body and her arms wrapped around her knees, just staring out into the great big nothing in front of the small house.
As if she didn't have enough evidence of the fact, life, fate, and the universe had once again proven to her how unfair it could be. She had gotten in a fight with her father, the first and only one they had had ever since she came to live with him, and hours later he had passed away in a heart attack. Everything she knew and cared about, taken away from her in an instant by some cruel arbiter of fate who had somehow decided that Maho deserved it.
She didn't have much time left in the house. Yesterday, Kikuyo had arrived to handle the paperwork surrounding her father's death, and to bring his remains back to Kumamoto, where they would be buried in the Nishizumi family grave. Despite everything, he and her mother had never officially divorced each other, and so he was to be buried as a Nishizumi. It could easily have been the height of summer and a crushing heatwave, and Maho would still have shuddered at the thought. As if it wasn't enough that she would never see him again, let alone apologize to him, it would now be near impossible for her to visit his grave.
She sighed, and let out a deep breath, watching the puff of steam slowly float away in the air and dissipate in the cold.
Kikuyo had given her condolences when she met with Maho, and had at least tried to be a shoulder to cry on. But Maho couldn't bring herself to cry, nor talk about it. She had run out of tears, and there was nothing anyone could ever say that would bring her father back to her.
Ever since that day in the hospital, the only thing Maho had been able to bring herself to do was sit there on the porch, and shudder in the cold. It was the only way she could be sure she was still feeling something. Kikuyo had managed to coax her to eat some soup she cooked up, but any real conversation was an impossibility. The only reply Maho felt capable of giving was minute nods or shakes of her head, or maybe an occasional hum.
The only time Maho had even managed to say a word was when Kikuyo was about to leave. The caretaker of the Nishizumi household had informed her that upon her return to the family estate in Kumamoto, Maho's mother would most likely send some people to the house to clear it out and prepare to sell it, and they would most likely arrive within a day of Kikuyo's return to the estate. The hint was obvious. If Maho was still here when her mother's people arrived, she would be brought back to Kumamoto whether she wished it or not. With her father gone, her mother was now the sole guardian of her, at least in the eyes of the law.
That much had been obvious to Maho even before Kikuyo arrived. She had known her mother would send someone to clear the house out the moment her father passed away. But it was what Kikuyo said next that made Maho look up from her gloomy position.
"I've never actually traveled along the northern coast," Kikuyo had said thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should take the opportunity. Although it will be a great shame that I will not return to Kumamoto for a few days because of such a detour." She had given Maho a caring and affectionate smile, and added, "It's a good thing your father kept you safe all this time. I know for a fact the happiest, most important day of his life was the day you were born. A strange coincidence, is it not? That you were born on such a day? One-O-Seven?"
Again, the hint was difficult to miss, but the way Kikuyo betrayed her mother's trust was enough to bring Maho out of her shell for a moment.
"Thank you, Kikuyo… I appreciate that…"
"I don't see what there is to appreciate, Miss Nishizumi. I'm merely thinking out loud." She had smiled again, and turned to leave. "But I pray that you will find happiness and meaning with your life. It would be a shame if a miracle like you wasted away, Maho, or your light was smothered before its time. It would break your mother's heart if it did..."
And thus, Maho was once again alone. Sitting there in the cold, and watching the scattered snowflakes slowly drift towards the ground, like cherry blossoms of ice smothering the world underneath it.
Despite Kikuyo's kind words, Maho was still lost in dark thoughts, trapped in her psyche as the darkness pounded on the doors, with every mistake and trauma she had ever experienced acting as battering rams and torches for the dark chorus of thoughts to use to bust down the walls of her mind.
She should never have come here. She should have just figured something else out. If she hadn't yelled at him and left, maybe he would still be alive. If she hadn't cared about Koume, she wouldn't have made her Vice-Commander, which would mean she wouldn't have been anywhere near danger, and Emi would still be ok. If she hadn't tried to protect Miho the way she did, maybe her sister would still be happy and free.
She should never have let people see the real her. She should never have trusted herself to feel safe and happy with others. She should never ever have let anyone else into her life. If she hadn't, she would be the only one who was hurt. She was a flame out of control, destroying anything she touched or got close to, and despite what Kikuyo might think or say, it would be best if her flame was smothered and extinguished. She should just cease to exist. The world would be better off if she did.
Through eyes drowned in tears, she looked down at her phone, which she held in her hand so tight she thought it might crack. She must have turned it on by accident somehow, because the screen was shining brightly back at her. Moving a thumb to turn it back off, she noticed something. A voicemail had been stored on there.
Confusion led to intrigue, which led to anticipation as she saw it was dated to the day dad passed away. She brushed tears from her eyes with her sleeve, and lifted the phone to her ear as she pressed play.
"Hello, Maho…" The first syllable was enough to cause her body and mind to collapse anew, and tears to well forth, rolling endlessly down her cheeks again. The tears she had thought run dry. It was her father's voice, speaking to her from beyond the grave. "I hope beyond everything that it will be a long time before you ever need to listen to this, but if you are, then I'm most likely no longer with you. I was alone for a long time, thinking I would never see you or hear your voice again, so I know how much you must have dreaded this day. I realize a simple recording won't bring me back to you, but I hope that simply hearing me say what I'm about to say will give you the strength to continue, acting as a light in the darkness."
"Maho, my precious angel, you are the light of my life, and if there was ever anything I could give up for you to be happy, I would have parted with it in an instant. Not a moment passed since the day you were born without me thinking about you, and I don't consider a single moment of thought spent on you to be wasted. You were truly the greatest gift I could ever receive, and the only regret I shall ever have is that I didn't get to spend more time with you. Everyday I was away, all I could think about was counting the days, hoping that tomorrow would be the day I got to see you again."
"What I want to say with all this is that I understand the pain and loss and emptiness and sadness you must be feeling right now, and I know how hard it is. Still, please don't ever give up, Maho. You are my daughter, my firstborn, and my love for you will break any barrier, even death. You have always been so strong, so brave, so caring and loving, and the only thing I ask of you is that you continue to be this amazing person you have managed to become even through all the hardships you have had to face. That you continue to live and let the fire within you burn as bright as it can, not for my sake, but for your own and for those who care for you. Your happiness is worth more than every pearl in the oceans, and every vein of gold in the mountains. My only hope for you is that you will live to see that yourself, and that you will surround yourself with people who can help you find that happiness. You are a shining beacon in the lives of anyone you meet, and the only way you could ever disappoint me is if you let that roaring fire die out."
"Maho, I love you more than anything in the world, and that is the only truth I have ever wanted to teach you."
Maho didn't actually know how long she sat there, crying tear after tear long after the message had stopped playing, holding the phone as tightly against her ear as she could, just in case there was another small vestige of her father left in there that she might otherwise miss. But there was nothing more. When it became clear that there was nothing more to hear, Maho could only restart the recording and listen to it again as she continued to cry. Then she restarted it again. And again. And again.
The sun had begun to set when she finally ran out of tears, and her mind cleared enough for her to make a decision.
She got up from her place on the porch, saved the recording to her phone's memory, and walked back into the house, grabbing the application form that was still sitting untouched on the dinner table and making her way to her dad's office. She sat down in the chair behind the desk, placing the form upon it and filling it out, before rummaging through the many drawers on the desk. Until she finally found it. She gingerly opened the pot of red ink, and grabbed her father's stamp from it's drawer. She drew a deep breath, covered the stamp in ink, and hesitated a moment. Was she really going to do this?
She knew she had to do something. If she stayed, her mother would sooner or later send people here to clear out the house, and then she would just get sent back to Kumamoto to face the Nishizumi-family's wrath. If she just ran away to somewhere else in the country, she would sooner or later be recognized by someone, and get found and sent back to Kumamoto. She had no other family to go to for help. The only ones she could possibly ask would be Koume or Kikuyo, but that would mean going back to Kumamoto, and Ami, but she had no idea where she was right now. As far as she knew, Ami could be on the other side of the globe.
That was of course unless she tried going to the Shimada's for help. The two families had been at each other's throats since the Meiji-era, and Chiyo Shimada, the current family head, would probably welcome her with open arms, seeing her as a convenient way to get back at her greatest rival. She wasn't exactly a stranger to the concept of a runaway daughter either, if the rumors were to be believed. But no. Going to the Shimada's would only land her back in a tank again, sooner or later. There was of course one more option, but even if Maho could bring herself to try it, she had no way of contacting her. Besides, there was no way she would want to talk to her.
But if she transferred to this new school, and once again became an enrolled student on a school carrier, she would in the eyes of the law be considered responsible for her own care, and her mother could do nothing about it as long as she wasn't expelled or transferred back to Kuromorimine. But the only way she could transfer from Kuromorimine, where she was technically still a student, to a new school, was with the signature and consent of a guardian. And the only guardian who would give his consent and sign the damn form had been turned to ashes and was on his way back to Kumamoto.
She was out of options. It was either this, or living the next few years looking over her shoulder. She steeled herself, exhaled, and stamped dad's signature on the form. She carefully cleaned the stamp off while the ink dried, slipped the form in an envelope, and sent it off. Then she walked over to the small safe in the corner of the office, and followed Kikuyo's advice. She turned the dial to one, then zero, then seven, and the lock clicked open. She could only breath a sigh of relief, despite how horrible her week had been. There was enough in there to at least sustain her reasonably well aboard the school carrier, and to ensure she could get shelter and food for the few weeks left until the beginning of the school year.
With this newfound determination flowing like adrenaline through her veins, she set to work the first thing the following morning, packing and making sure that everything she could need would find it's way to her in her new life, without giving her mother's people a chance to rummage through and throw it out. The next day she saw the van of boxes off, slung her bag over her shoulder, and began her trip towards Ibaraki prefecture. The night might still be dark, but on the horizon she could see the light of dawn creep back into her life. She would be a student at Ooarai, safe from her mother's machinations, and she would never ever get back in a tank again.
Ibaraki Prefecture
Aboard the School Carrier Zuikaku
Ooarai Girl's Academy, Student Council Room
Present Day…
The silence in the room was deafening, as the three members of Ooarai's Student Council for the fourth day in a row tried to figure out what they could do or who they could call to improve the odds of their school surviving closure at the end of the term.
Yuzu was going over every document and regulation she could find for a third time since their loss against Saunders, while Anzu just sat in her chair with her fingers steepled before her, looking out across the ship as she thought the situation over. She didn't come up with anything she hadn't already debated, but at least she had a good view while she thought about it. Outside the massive window the weather was clear, and life continued aboard the carrier as it would on any other day, and as it would for years to come as far as the rest of the inhabitants knew.
The only one who wasn't looking glum was Momo, who was flipping through copies of Ooarai's and the Federation's rulebooks with glee. When asked if this glee was because she had figured out a solution, she was surprisingly coy in her answers, and only claimed she was working on something.
The work had been ongoing since the start of the day, and lunch was fast approaching, with no solution in sight.
"Yuzu," Anzu asked and looked up at the ceiling, knowing full well what answer she was going to receive. "Got anything yet?"
"Sorry…"
"Momo?"
"I'm not sure. I don't want to get any hopes up, so I'll say no for now…"
"Welp…" Anzu spun around in her chair to face her desk again. "I'm not getting anywhere either, so at least we're all on the same page." She reached down and opened a drawer of her desk, pulling out a bag of dried sweet potatoes. "Let's break for lunch, and see if we can come up with something in the afterno-"
She was interrupted by the phone on her desk ringing. Anzu looked queerly at it for a moment, before putting the bag back where she had gotten it from, and motioning to Yuzu, who walked over and lifted the receiver to her ear.
"Ooarai Girl's Academy Student Council, Vice-President Koyama speaking. How can I help you?" She nodded to herself as the person on the other end of the call spoke. "Yes, she is here... Yes, just a moment…" She held the phone against her chest. "It's Commander Kay, of Saunders. She wants to speak with you. Urgently."
"I bet she just wants to gloat…" Momo growled, but Anzu just shrugged and answered with a friendly smile.
"Put her on. Kay's a nice girl, I don't think she would call unless she had a good reason."
Yuzu nodded, and pressed a button as she returned the receiver to its place.
"Kay," Anzu greeted. "What's up?"
"Hey Angie! Say, is your landing pad clear at the moment?" Kay's voice called out from the phone's speaker.
Anzu stared blankly before her for a moment, before answering hesitantly. "I'm sorry… what?"
"Your landing pad. Is it clear?"
She threw a quick look at Yuzu, who nodded. "It is. Why do you ask?"
"Because we're about to arrive at the Zuikaku in a minute."
"Ok? But… why? What's so important we couldn't handle it over the phone?"
"Oh, believe me. You're going to want to discuss this in person."
"If you say so. I'll give you clearance to land."
"Thanks! See ya in a bit, Angie! *click*"
Silence once again fell over the room, as all three girls could do nothing but stare in surprise and disbelief at the phone.
"Uh… Anzu…?" Yuzu asked cautiously. "Why… why does she insist on calling you Angie?"
"Eh, it's a long story," Anzu replied, and shrugged. "Remind me to tell it some time."
Fifteen minutes or so later, a helicopter bearing Saunders' insignia made a pass over the Zuikaku and landed atop the school carrier's central tower. Shortly thereafter, Kay appeared in the Student Council Room, with one of her subordinates in tow. The sight took Anzu, Yuzu, and Momo aback slightly, as the usually cheerful and friendly commander had a stern and serious expression on her face, and was dragging two girls behind her by their ear, which looked rather unpleasant. One was the girl with brown pigtails who had commanded the flag tank, but the other one they hadn't seen before. She had short blonde hair and freckles, and in contrast to her comrades was not in the olive tank jackets of Saunders' Sensha-Do team, but only the regular school uniform.
"Hiya, Angie!" Kay said cheerfully without letting go of the girls' ears, as if blissfully unaware of the strangeness of the situation.
"Hello, Kay," Anzu said with an intrigued voice. "What brings me the pleasure?"
"Well, Alysa here has some info that I thought you might like to hear. Don't you, Alysa?" She tugged a bit on the pigtailed girl's ear, and pulled her forwards.
"C-commander," the girl, whose name was apparently Alysa, blubbered. "I just-ow-ow-ow-" Kay seemed to tighten her grip on the girl's ear. "I'm so-so-sorry…"
"And you've told me so for the past 6 hours. Which I appreciate. Now you're going to tell them, aren't you?"
Y-y-y-es, Co-commander… Ju-just… pu-pu-pu-please let me go…" Kay gave Alysa another look, followed by a glance at the other girl, but after another few seconds shrugged and released her grip on Alysa's ear. The blonde girl remained firmly in her grip however.
"Uhhh… I'm sorry but," Yuzu asked, "what is this about exactly?"
Alysa took a moment to massage her ear against the pain, but after another glare from Kay quickly bowed low towards the Student Council.
"I-I-I-I'm so-so-sorry... " she blubbered. "I ju-ju-just wa-wa-wanted Saunder's to-to-to wi-win…"
"You're the one who put up the interception balloon?!" Momo yelled and pointed an accusatory finger towards Alysa. "Why I oughta-"
"Thank you, Momo," Anzu interrupted. "We appreciate the apology, Kay. As I would expect of you."
"But… We already knew about the interception balloon, and it's not prohibited by the rules. So why come all the way here?" Yuzu asked.
"Why indeed…" Kay muttered, and glanced down at Alysa. "Will you please enlighten our honorable and gracious opponents as to why we're here, Alysa?"
"I… I… I… It wasn't my fault! It was just-"
"Enough excuses!" Kay said with a forcefulness that surprised even Anzu. "Tomi, might you perhaps be able to explain why I've had to drag you out here?" She now pulled the blonde girl, obviously named Tomi, forwards, and let go of her ear. If Alysa was blubbering, this girl seemed on the verge of a breakdown. "I swear, in all my time as Commander… no, in all of Saunders' history, I don't think there's ever been such a heinous stain on our reputation as you two have brought upon us."
"Bu-bu-but I thought… I-I mean… Miss Alysa started it…" Tomi said and pointed a finger towards Alysa
"I did not!" Alysa yelled. "I never told you to do something that stupid!"
"Did too! You always said that it's fine to be creative with rules, and that victory should come at any cost!"
"I didn't mean for you to take it literally!"
"How should I know?! I'm not a mind reader!"
"Oh just be quiet, you two!" Kay interrupted, and the two girls quickly silenced themselves.
"I… I'm still not quite following what this is about…" Yuzu said, her confusion only having grown if anything.
"Tomi, tell them what you did," Kay said, but seeing Tomi prepare to protest further, she just glared at the girl and added, "No, you will not defend yourself, accuse anyone else, or in any way push the blame away from yourself. You will tell these fine opponents of ours what you did, and you will tell them now."
"W-well… M-miss Alysa always said that it's ok to bend some rules… and I just really wanted us to win… a-and Miss Alysa already put up the balloon… a-and the rules only say that members of the team are prohibited from… s-so… I-I just thought… I-I mean… I-I… I guess... It's… It's possible I… I might have walked into your camp when everyone was away… and I might have tried to… I might have done some… less than successful maintenance on one of your tanks…"
"I still don't understand how you got that stupid idea?!" Alysa muttered. "There's bending the rules and there's obviously cheating-ow!"
She was interrupted by a slap to the back of the head by Kay. "Just shut up, Alysa. You don't exactly come off as a saint in this situation either."
"YOU SABOTAGED OUR TANKS?!" Momo yelled as the realization began to dawn on her. "SO YOU DID CHEAT?!"
"I only worked on the one… and it was only a single connector rod… I didn't… I didn't think anyone would noti-"
"Thank you, girls. You've said and done quite enough," Kay said sternly. "You are to go back to the chopper and wait for me there. Tell Naomi that she is to keep an eye on you two, lest you get any other idiotic ideas. Am I clear?"
"Y-y-yes, Ma'am…" Alysa and Tomi quietly scampered out of the room, leaving Kay alone with the student council.
"Now," Kay said the moment the doors closed behind the girls, stopping Momo from redirecting her anger at her. "I hope you understand I had nothing to do with this, and that I apologize profusely for their conduct." She bowed low, before getting back up with a smile.
"Still…" Yuzu said cautiously, glancing over towards Anzu who still hadn't said anything since the revelation. "An apology doesn't change the fact that we lost…"
"Oh, how clumsy of me," Kay exclaimed, and pulled a piece of paper from the inner pocket of her jacket. "I've already dealt with that, and the Federation ought to inform you in a day or two. It's not a win unless it happens fair and square." She placed the piece of paper down on Anzu's desk. Yuzu picked it up and looked it over.
"You've… you've forfeited the match to us?" She looked up from the document in stunned surprise.
"Yup. As I said, I'm not going to take a win I didn't earn. But you knew that, didn't you, Angie?" At first, Anzu didn't answer, and instead only looked at Kay, while throwing the occasional glance at Yuzu.
"Yuzu… May I see that?" she asked, and accepted the document from her friend, looking it over herself. "You're serious about this?"
"Well, of course, dummy! When have I ever joked around with you?"
"One particular memory does spring to mind," Anzu said dryly, but put the piece of paper down on the desk and walked around it, reaching a hand out towards Kay. "But either way, thank you, Kay. You don't know how much this means to us."
"No problem, Angie!" Kay replied, and shook Anzu's hand with a great deal of cheer and enthusiasm for someone who had effectively just admitted to cheating. "Hey, by the way, is Nishizumi around here somewhere? I never got a chance to thank her for a good match. And considering all of this, it seems appropriate."
"I don't know if Maho wou-" Yuzu began to protest, but was silenced by Anzu raising a hand
"Miss Nishizumi is sadly a bit busy today," Anzu replied. "But I'll let her know how you feel. I'm sure she'll appreciate it.
"Thanks! And congratulations, Angie! I'll be sure to cheer you on in the next round!"
"Thank you, Kay. Again, you don't know how much this means to us." Anzu looked over her shoulder at Yuzu. "Actually, Yuzu… when even is the next round?"
"Oh… uh…" Yuzu looked around a few of the pieces of paper scattered across her desk for an answer, but Kay came to her rescue.
"It's about a month away. Anzio and Maginot are having their match this weekend, so you'll be facing whoever wins." She took Anzu's hand one more time, shook it, and gave Anzu a hug. "Anyways, I need to go. As you can imagine, I still have some disciplining left to do back on 'Georgy'."
"Of course. I'll see ya around, Kay. Take care.
"You too, Angie! See ya!"
With that, Kay left the office as swiftly as she had appeared, leaving the room with a strange empty silence for a few moments. Once the moment passed however, Anzu turned on the spot to look at her comrades, and with an undeservedly confident grin said "See? I told you a solution would present itself!"
"...And get this place cleaned up before I have Murakami turn you into mops!"
"Y-yes, Captain!"
Ogin grumbled and smirked to herself as she continued through the corridors of her kingdom. And they said acting was never my forté… she mused, and lit her pipe as she walked on.
Every time she turned a new corner, even the most laid-back and respectless girls shot to attention in an instant, which was exactly how Ogin liked it. The more ingrained her reputation became in their minds, the less she had to do to actually maintain it. All she had to do was present something close enough to what they considered the truth, and the rest would take care of itself.
"Captain," Flint called as they came upon each other at an intersection, and took a few sprinting steps to keep pace with Ogin as they continued through the underbelly of the Zuikaku.
"What is it, Flint?" Ogin snarled. "I have better things to do than listen to your shanties."
"Of course, Captain," Flint answered. "It's Rum. She got drunk and started a fight on one of the lower decks. Knocked three girls out cold before she came to her senses."
"Oh, to the devil with her…" Ogin muttered and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Any serious damages?"
"Nothing worse than a black eye and a scratched up knee."
"Well, take her to the brig then. And cut off their grog for the next week."
"All of them, Captain?"
"Of course I mean all of them! Are you deaf, you singing shrimp?!"
"Of course, Captain. If those are your orders. Although..." Flint looked around them in the otherwise empty corridor, and pulled Ogin into an alcove.
"What the hell do you-" A hand over her mouth stopped Ogin's protests.
"Although I should tell you Captain, I don't think you need be so hard on them. I'm sure the crews respect for you is more than enough to keep order, if you catch my drift." Flint smiled, nodded, let go of Ogin, and turned to go back the same way she came, leaving her captain stunned and confused for a moment.
"Damn scallywag," she muttered, and continued on her walk through her dimly lit domain.
"Evenin', Captain," Adrianna said and nodded to her as she approached the door to Cutlass' mess.
"Sure. Evenin'" Ogin muttered and gave a dismissive nod to the guard. "She still here?"
"Indeed she is, Captain."
She continued past Adrianna and walked through the door, entering the utter mess that was the bar she and her closest friends and officers called home. Cutlass was as always standing behind the bar, fiddling with the many bottles on the shelves.
"Good evening, Captain," she said with disinterest.
"Evening, Cutlass. How's our guest?" She glanced over to one of the couches in the corner where the girl with dark-brown hair was lying asleep. She had been surprised to see the girl return after her last visit to the bar, but a few days ago, there she had been. Still, Ogin wasn't about to turn her away, considering she had ended their last meeting by boldly proclaiming she was welcome back whenever she liked.
"Same as last you were here."
"How much did she drink today?"
"A few Hiroshima's, a couple shots of Habanero Club, but nowhere near as bad as her last stint here."
"Do I need to cut her off?"
"Don't think so. She seems to at least be aware of the effect it has on her this time. Murakami even got her to eat something today, so I wouldn't worry."
"That's good to hear at least. Still, I wonder what made her come back here…"
The freezing rain poured endless over the ruins of Ooarai, cutting Maho's skin like razorblades whenever she found herself without shelter. Ever since the battle with Saunders, she would find herself back in the urban wasteland whenever she fell asleep. Running through the streets, hiding among the ruins, and ultimately being found or caught and killed. She had lost track of how many times she had repeated this nightmare, but it was certainly enough times that she knew the script by heart, in the same way she knew the back of her hand, or the engine of a Tiger.
She would wake up in the alley, she would make her way through the ruined streets, and sooner or later the black Tiger would catch up with her, her flaming doppelganger would kill her, and she would wake up in the alley again, weaker than the last time. It didn't matter what she did, or how careful she was, the dream was always the same. Even when she resorted to hiding instead of running, she would only evade capture for an hour or two. Either way, she would always be found sooner or later. Discovering that there were in fact two creature's hunting her, instead of only one didn't help either.
The two flaming clones of her, one black and one purple, were always on the hunt, but they were still different. The purple one, roaming the streets in the black Tiger with terrifying speed and efficiency, crushing everything in its path, was always the one to ultimately find its prey, and whenever it did, it showed no mercy. It would grin and taunt her in her mother's voice, as it lit her skin on fire with a mere touch, and turned her heart to ash.
The black one was different. It made its way through the streets at a driven yet restrained pace, looking carefully and methodically through every ruined building, behind every piece of debris, and inside every crumpled husk of a tank lining the streets. Despite this, whenever Maho was sure it was about to find her, it always moved on and left, which didn't seem to fit with the rest of its methodical search pattern.
The more the nightmare repeated itself, the more lucid and clear the details of the dream became, as Maho retained at least some memories of the previous incarnations. And as her knowledge and understanding, or rather lack thereof, grew, she started becoming able to identify the strange calling voice that echoed through the empty streets, even drowning out the endless rumble of the Tiger and the deafening rainfall. By this point she was sure it was the black doppelganger calling out for something, but it took her several more repeats before she began to understand what it was saying.
"Maho"
It was calling out for her, in perfect mimicry of her own voice. Calling out to her, as if playing some strange game of hide-and-seek. But Maho had no interest in playing this game, nor in being found. She knew how torturous the pain that came with being found was, and she would avoid it at all costs.
She had huddled herself in a ruined apartment building, and pushed a piece of the roof that had fallen in against the open doorway. Now all she could do was sit there, weak to the brink of collapse, trying her best to keep quiet even as she shuddered from the cold air and her soaked-through clothes.
In the distance she could hear the rumble of the black Tiger's engine and the clatter of its treads grow louder, and then fainter again as it chose another path than the one that led to her. But she knew this luck wouldn't last. Sooner or later it would come this way, tearing a hole in what remained of the building, and find her. She knew it would.
As if on command, just as Maho felt secure enough to at least breathe a sigh of relief, another sound could be heard. The hissing of water on flames, steady but gentle footsteps, and the echoing call of her own voice.
"Maho?!"
It was the obsidian one. It was calling out for her, but Maho didn't answer. She knew better than that. Her body instead tensed up and her heart went into overdrive, even as she tried in vain to remain calm and quiet. On the other side of the temporary barrier between her and her doom, she could hear it stroll slowly through the street, passing back and forth as it looked for her, as one might a small child hiding behind some curtains.
The footsteps grew louder, and the mimic of her voice called out again. Maho swallowed and held her breath, but it was too late. Reaching through the cracks and openings in her barrier, fingers made of Stygian flames curled around her only remaining protection, and Maho could do nothing but look at the opening as it grew larger, the barrier being moved out of the way and the ruined city coming into view behind it.
"Commander?"
As the barrier finally fell away, the dark and dreary scene disappeared and gave way to the warm yet dim lighting of Ogin's bar, as Maho groggily opened her eyes. Someone had nudged her awake, and was calling to her in a familiar voice.
"Commander? Please wake up?"
Next time on Dein Weg ist Mein Weg: Maho is given a wake-up call, and preparations for the next round of the tournament begin
Author's Notes:
Well, this once again became a far longer chapter than I anticipated, but I finally got to reveal some of the many secrets I've been keeping close to my chest since the beginning of the series. Tsuneo's passing, the contents of the voicemail Maho's been listening to, how and why Ooarai lost the match against Saunders, and such.
Now, that's not to say that I've run out of aces up my sleeve. There is still quite a lot of story left, and we are about to enter the second act.
AAHW, you were indeed correct in smelling the foul stench of sabotage. As it turns out, once you start bending the rules a little, it inspires others to do it even more, or even to break them. And there is absolutely no moral at all in that part of the story. Nope, no real-world parallels there in the slightest.
Anyhoo, as always I love to hear your thoughts, your theories, your feedback, and your input. Getting to read and hear what you guys think is easily the best part of my week, so please, feel free to leave a review and let me know what you thought.
Well, until next week; På återseende!
/Rihno