Dein Weg ist Mein Weg
Chapter XL
Tailed through the Tea Garden
"Hold up! Sorry I'm late, just a moment!"
The rather bored-looking student at the desk stopped her efforts at packing said desk up, turned to glance down the pier, and sighed as she saw the last-minute arrival sprinting towards her.
"You're lucky you know," the girl said in a monotone voice and sat back down on the small and rather uncomfortable chair. "Another minute and we would have sailed away without you."
"Yes, I know. Terribly sorry," the new arrival answered, and gave a short nodding bow in apology. "Please excuse my tardiness. I forgot to set my alarm clock and Dad had to shake me awake. You know, I never got the hang of these early mornings, and almost always end up having to rush to get to school on time, so it really was just pure dumb luck that I managed to-"
"Name and student ID, please," the girl interrupted, very obviously not having the slightest interest in the story and just wanting to get things packed up.
"Right! Of course!" the new girl nodded, handing over her student ID. Or at least, the one Yuzu had made for the occasion. "Here you go! Again, so sorry," she continued with a small smile.
"Name and class?" the girl behind the desk said shortly and with great boredom, barely glancing up at her.
"Oh… yeah..." the new arrival mumbled, and paused for a second. "Yu-..." She let her voice die down and shook her head before starting again. "Yutori Arakaki, Class 2-C
The girl at the desk glanced up at her for a short moment, and then back down to the picture on the student ID. The girl before her, with her bronze orange hair flowing halfway down her back, was certainly the same as the one in the photo, but something just seemed slightly off. Something she couldn't put her finger on.
"One moment," she sighed, and reached over to the stack of folders beside her, beginning to dig through them in search for the list of students in class 2-C "I just gotta check something…" she muttered.
"Although," the redhead added with a small smile, only just betraying a hint of confident superiority, "I think you might have an easier time finding me under the name 'Rooibos'."
"R-rebus?" the girl asked, uncertain.
"Rooibos," the redhead corrected, her smile still very much beaming. "Gunner, 3rd class."
"So… you're…" the girl said slowly as she tried putting everything together, glancing down at the Student ID in her hand once more, "with the tea garden?"
"Precisely," the redhead beamed, a small shake of her head added to the smile. "I hope there are no issues?"
"I… uhh… well…" the girl stuttered. "I don't think I've ever heard of a Miss Rooibos…" she said in a voice that only died down further with every syllable she uttered. "I… I think I need to make a call to check… I'm really sorry…"
"Oh, please, don't be," the redhead replied with an understanding wave of her hands that simultaneously conveyed the lack of patience she had left for the hold-up. "In fact," she continued, and fished out a cellphone from her pocket, "allow me to save you the trouble. I'll simply give Lady Darjeeling a call. She will vouch for me in no time. If anything, she'll probably wonder why I'm late for our meeting more than anything else." She began to dial in a number on the keypad and lifted the phone to her ear, before looking back at the girl by the desk with concern. "I'm terribly sorry, what did you say your name was?"
"I'm… I'm sorry?"
"Your name," the redhead repeated. "I'm sure Lady Darjeeling will ask why I'm late, and I wish to know your name so I can tell her of our conversation"
"Sa-sa-sachiko. Sato!" the girl yelped. "Sachiko Sato, Miss," she clarified, and began bowing profusely. "I'm terribly sorry for the holdup, Miss! It's just standard protocol! I'm really really sorry!" she apologized and held the redhead's student ID out before her. "P-please, just board at once, Miss. Classes are starting soon, and I need to pack this up before we board, and I really really don't want to be the one to hold up the ship sailing…"
"Oh, very well," the redhead answered with the smile never leaving her lips, and accepted her ID back as she returned the phone to her pocket. "We all make mistakes after all, and I'm sure you meant no offense, Miss Sato. In fact," she added with a smile over her shoulder as she walked off, "I believe girls like you are just what we could use in the Tea Garden. I'll make sure to put forth a nomination for you."
"Th-thank you, miss!" Sachiko replied, staring with stunned blankness for a few seconds before remembering that she needed to get the desk and its contents packed up.
"Please, don't mention it," the redhead chuckled.
And here I thought getting on board would be the difficult part… she thought to herself as she stepped through the doorway at the end and into the bowels of the Ark Royal. The plan had definitely been a gamble, but so far it was working gloriously. Rather than try to time her infiltration with a resupply and sneak aboard, this new plan had instead been built on three simple pillars.
The first was that St. Gloriana's schoolship, the Ark Royal, didn't leave port Sunday night like most other school carriers, but instead remained at anchor until shortly before classes began on Monday morning.
The second was that the Tea Garden, the renowned society at the very highest echelons of St. Gloriana society, was both deeply respected among the student body, and also had scores upon scores of members, more than any student could possibly remember at once.
The third pillar was the simple fact that if there was ever a situation when you could reliably count on people not being very particular at their tasks, it was the moments before they were to finish them up.
After a short walk, she soon found herself reaching the top deck, climbing the stairs from the aptly labeled "Ark Royal Underground" and finding herself on one of the carrier's many narrow cobblestone streets, old and weathered brick buildings surrounding her on all sides.
The picturesque slice of England, hidden away in Japanese waters, was known around the country and could easily charm almost anyone into walking the winding streets for hours on end. But she was not almost anyone, and she had time itself as her enemy. By the time the morning's classes ended and the carrier moved on from morning to lunch, she needed to have completed her mission and be on her way back towards the city-part of the carrier, where the ferry terminal was located. Every moment she lingered after that was a moment where she risked getting caught. So instead of sight-seeing, she followed the path she had planned out and memorized for the past few days.
Even with her route memorized however, the winding, narrow cobblestone streets and dark, somehow even narrower alleyways made for a near-endless labyrinth, and she more than once found herself having taken a wrong turn and being forced to back-track several turns to find her way once more. Time held no regard for her missteps however, and as the light of the sun slowly began creeping above the rooftops and letting the occasional beam of light reach the street below her, she broke into a sprint, hoping to reach her goal before it was too late.
This quickly proved a mistake.
Rounding a corner, she was met with a large, solid mass, and stumbled backwards, although she at least managed to keep her balance. Glaring bitterly at whatever had gotten in her way, she was met by the sight of an older man, although he was built more like a bear than a man, who a moment later, seemingly satisfied with the placement of the sign he had been moving, turned around to face her.
"Huh?" he muttered and raised an eyebrow as he gave her a puzzled look. "What on Earth are you doing here?"
"I… uhh… I mean…" she mumbled as she stumbled for words.
"I'm opening up shop here, Kiddo. That means you're supposed to be in class right now," the man smirked. "So what's this rushing around on this side of the carrier about?"
Glancing over to the building beside them, she saw what looked to be a run-down and nearly abandoned pub, with stained glass windows set into the wall and a carved metal sign of a laughing redcoat soldier sitting on top of a Mk VII cruiser tank hanging above the door.
"I… uhh... overslept..." she replied and looked away, trying to simultaneously not seem suspicious but also not giving the man a chance to look at her too much. "Sorry for running into you," she added a moment later, and began sprinting down the street once more, continuing on her path through the city and towards the school itself.
As she neared the campus of St. Gloriana and the gothic architecture of its buildings, she tugged lightly at her uniform. The blue sweater was not only rather itchy, but had also begun to slowly get soaked through by sweat from her running, a state which only worsened as the summer sun rose and heated the stone streets. The entire uniform was also a tad smaller than she would have preferred, and didn't quite fit her.
But she pushed on, and began to cross through campus. Everywhere one walked there were small ornate parks and well-tended flowerbeds, nestled in between the many large buildings and covered walkways, providing a perfectly suitable contrast against the grey stone of the school itself. While she hadn't seen the real thing herself, she knew that St. Gloriana borrowed its architecture and look from the universities in Oxford and Cambridge, which was of course where many of its more accomplished students ended up studying once they graduated and went on to higher education.
Rounding a corner and passing a large white marble statue of a soldier from the first world war stradling a Mark VI-tank, the bayonet of his gun striking the belly of an A7V lying defeated on the ground in a not-terribly-subtle reference to the depictions of Saint George's slaying of the dragon, she could see her target. The St. Gloriana Sensha-Do team's garage, and more importantly, the ornate building standing beside it.
Built in the style of a British country house, it was accompanied by a large fountain and rows upon rows of hedges in front, and with clinging vines crawling their way up the salmon facade, the ones close to the middle tapering off near the second floor as a large balcony blocked their access to further sunlight.
Bretonneux Hall; The team's command-building.
If she was going to find any useful info on what tanks St. Gloriana were bringing to the semis and in what formations, she would find it there.
Using the many hedges, bushes, and large trees as cover, she made her way across the grounds over to the large building, and pasted herself against the wall beside the large door at the entrance. It had been left open to allow some of the heat to escape, and hearing not even the slightest evidence that the hall within was occupied, she cautiously rounded the door and entered.
The hall was as majestic and gaudy as the outside of the building would suggest. A finely polished stone floor, checkered in black and white, formed the base, with four sets of large oaken doors on the first floor, one on either side of the hall, and one at each of the far corners of the room, with a large staircase, easily 20 foot wide, in the middle of the room leading up to a second floor with the landing acting as a hallway connecting the two doors on the upper floor at either end, and the large set of double doors with gilded frame that met the staircase where it landed. A number of seemingly antique pieces of furniture completed the picture. A bureau there, a table in carved maple there, a large mirror hanging on one wall, and a landscape painting of a battle she didn't recognize being fought hanging on the other.
But even here, she knew her target and the path to take to reach it. Taiga had managed to find a set of plans of the building online and, through careful study of them, she knew that she needed to take the door on the left.
Walking slowly in order to not have her footsteps clatter off the stone floor, she nervously tested the handle on the door, and to her relief found it unlocked. Luck continued to be on her side it seemed, as the well-oiled hinges of the doors stopped any squeaking as she passed through, and shut the door behind her.
This led her into a short hallway with dark blue carpets covering the length of the wooden floor, and with a short sprint she reached the corner, stopping just before rounding it. She could hear voices.
Giving a quick peek around the corner, she saw two maids talking, one of them carrying a stack of folded bed sheets and the other a tray of food, with the smell of bacon, eggs, sausage, tea and orange juice reaching her where she stood. She cursed under her breath as she leaned back against the wall. Directly opposite was a large window leaving her perfectly open to being spotted by anyone passing by the building on the adjoining path, and so every second she remained was a second more she risked being detected. Go do your jobs, instead of this idle chit-chat… she thought as she peeked around the corner again, but the two women continued speaking as if their work was a mere formality.
"Oh well, I suppose I should go on then," the maid with the breakfast tray finally said, and laughed. "We can't have the commander's breakfast go cold, now can we?"
"You're right," the other one answered with a smile, and bowed her head. "We don't want to invite more aphorisms than necessary, now do we?"
"Indeed not," the first one giggled. "Though she is a damn sight easier to deal with than her predecessor."
"Ain't that right," the one with the bed sheets laughed, and the two finally parted ways.
"Took you long enough," she muttered under her breath, and waited for the sound of doors closing before continuing down the hall to the door she was looking for, passing portraits upon portraits of girls in the team's red and black uniform. Previous commanders, she assumed.
After a short moment of kneeling beside the door and fiddling with the lock, giving the odd glance over her shoulder and keeping her ears peeled in case of someone drawing near, the mechanism gave off a small click, and she could sneak through the door to find her prize: The Commander's study.
"Ok, let's get to work," she mumbled, and pulled out the camera from her bag, turning it on and holding it firmly in one hand as she made her way through the room. The room wasn't small by any stretch of the imagination, but it was certainly compact.
The right wall was lined with bookshelves in dark wood, its shelves packed with books on dozens of subjects in at least as many languages, meeting an enormous window at the far corner that ran the length of the back wall, gridded with wood finely painted in white. A number of potted plants and a few model tanks stood on the windowsill, basking in the light of the morning sun. Along the left wall stood a small sofa next to a table with an accompanying set of chairs beside it. A half-drunk cup of tea still remained on the table beside two emptied ones. Hanging on the wall beside the sofa there was a large whiteboard, its contents sadly having been wiped clean, seemingly not too long ago based on the faint smell of cleaning alcohol lingering in the air near the whiteboard. The wall behind her obviously held the door as it's central feature, but to her left she noticed an old cavalry sabre hanging in it's scabbard on the wall, and to her right a dartboard equidistant between the door and the bookshelves, a photograph of Earl Grey, the previous commander of St. Gloriana's sensha-do team, lying on the floor below it beside an umbrella stand, a finely perforated pattern filling it's centre. Finally, there was a large and magnificent desk drowned in paperwork in the center of the room, with a well-sat office chair pushed neatly up against it on the opposite side from her.
Once she had made sure to clear the rest of the room, confirming that there was nothing of value to be gained from searching further, she turned to the desk, and rummaged through the many stacks of documents on top. The search took longer than she would have preferred, but she was adamant in making sure every piece of paper was returned to where she had found it, in hopes of keeping her infiltration a secret.
But there was no intel to be gained from these documents either. It was mostly old pieces of homework, the odd permission slip, and stacks upon stacks of old match-results and the analysis of them. There were also a number of strongly worded letters from someone going by the signature 'Q' which, in no subtle terms, conveyed the state of the team's mechanics and ardently implored that someone, or something, called 'Rosehip' was to be removed from the team and never again allowed near the tanks.
As interesting as this might have seemed to her at any other time, it didn't solve her problem, and so she sighed and was just about to walk around the desk to look through the drawers when she heard a small click behind her.
"Miss Yutori Arakaki, I presume?" a confident voice asked from the door. "Or, should I say; Miss Maho Nishizumi?"
Maho let her shoulders sink as she exhaled and relaxed.
"I suppose this is the part where you ask me to come quietly?" she asked as she reached up and removed the orange wig from her scalp, giving her head a quick shake to let her natural dark brown hair fall into place.
"If you don't mind," the girl behind her replied. "No sudden movements, if you please. We don't need to make this more difficult than it needs to be."
Turning around, Maho saw a girl roughly her age, albeit noticeably shorter, standing by the door, with long blonde hair tied up in a bow, and a dark blue blazer with St. Gloriana's insignia emblazoned near her heart covering her white shirt instead of the very warm sweater she herself was wearing. The girl had one hand on the handle of the door, which she had clearly just locked, but Maho was far more focused on the girl's other hand, in which she held a pistol pointed squarely at Maho.
"Don't worry," the girl said in a reassuring voice. "It's nothing dangerous, simply a stun gun. For insurance. I would prefer it if you didn't give me cause to use it, however."
"I can imagine…" Maho answered bitterly, trying her best to shrug off the possibility that she was about to be shot. "I didn't know the students of St. Gloriana were armed."
"They aren't," the girl smiled. "But please, don't mistake this for a coincidence. I suppose your confidence in getting aboard is commendable, but I'm afraid it was a bit of a misplaced effort. We have been expecting you for quite a while, after all."
"Have you now?" Maho asked dryly and raised an eyebrow. "If you knew I was coming, why even let me board in the first place? If you ask me, you're simply trying to make your own stroke of luck seem like genuine forethought."
"Please, don't flatter yourself," the girl laughed. "GI6 has kept you under enough surveillance since you boarded to produce an award-winning feature film. And if you had done some proper homework before this little attempt of yours, you would have recognized Miss Sato as the head of our theatre club. She's quite the actress, don't you agree?" She began to calmly pace before the door, making sure to keep both her attention and aim on Maho even as it became increasingly evident that she was enjoying her little monologue. "If anything, it's been a surprise it took you this long to try and sneak aboard. Kay's sense of fairness meant Miss Akiyama's stunt on the George Washington was still of value, and your own… association… with Anchovy gave you everything you needed on Anzio. But St. Gloriana and Lady Darjeeling," the girl pondered with a rhetorical smile as she stopped before the door again, "we are a far more difficult nut to crack, wouldn't you agree?"
"And here I thought the students of St. Gloriana were taught proper manners," Maho scoffed with a condescending smirk. "Instead, you simply brag about all you know without so much as giving your name."
"Well, considering the circumstances, I think my name is rather irrelevant," the girl said with a coy smile and wink. "But know that it is my very good honour to meet you and you may call me Assam," she continued, adding a curtsy to her introduction. "If you would please come this way, Miss Nishizumi. Lady Darjeeling has been dying to speak with you."
"Of course she has," Maho sighed, and threw the wig in Assam's face, using the moment of confusion and surprise to knock the pistol from her grip, sending it sliding beyond reach of them both as it slid underneath one of the bookcases. Leaving no room for reaction, Maho immediately used the momentum of her disarming maneuver to lunge at Assam, but the blonde was quicker than she had expected.
As Maho slammed her weight into the door, Assam twirled out of the way and raised her half-closed hands before her, ready and full of anticipation for Maho's next move. Maho didn't spend any time making her wait, and launched into a short sequence of haymakers that Assam once again either ducked just as elegantly as before, or by swiftly blocking, before replying with a series of swift, viper-like jabs and kicks, each one one meticulously aimed and planned to strike home and defeat Maho in the minimum amount of time and moves necessary.
With a life-time of dodging stray shells in the cupola behind her, however, Maho was more than prepared to avoid Assam's lightning-fast assault. The two disengaged and eyed one another for a few moments, catching their breaths and examining the situation.
Assam was the more nimble and quicker of the two, but Maho was decidedly stronger. She also held the advantage in height, and consequently; range. That much was clear just from the opening salvo, and they both seemed equally skilled in avoiding one another's attacks. Maho assumed her opponent was clever enough to reach the same conclusion.
Maho let her eyes glance over to the door, her only way out of the room considering that leaping through the window didn't seem desirable. Not that there was any real way for her to get through the door without incapacitating Assam first, seeing as the door was still locked.
But after another second or so, she saw her chance appear in the corner of her eye. Assam, seeming to suspect something, let her gaze slip from Maho and also glanced over to the door. The moment she was not in her opponents crosshairs, Maho snatched the sabre from the wall, making sure the strings keeping it in its scabbard did their job, and swung it in a wide arc before her as she stepped forwards to once again engage Assam.
Spotting the sword arcing towards her, Assam did her best to duck out of the way, but the moment of hesitation her suspicion had bought Maho meant that the scabbard struck into her side. The impact definitely hurt and would almost certainly leave an ugly bruise in the morning, but at least the leather covering the blade made sure that no blood was drawn.
Sensing that she held the initiative, Maho made another swing as she continued stepping towards her opponent, hoping that Assam would trip up, or to get her to a point where her guard would fall and Maho could strike with the saber's pommel to knock her out. But having tasted the heavy weight of the scabbard and Maho's swing, Assam made sure to keep her wits about her, and even as her back hit the bookcase behind her, gracefully avoided every successive strike, dancing like water around Maho's swings and pulling a book from the shelf behind her which quickly became a projectile flying towards Maho's head. In the respite that Maho ducking out of the way provided, Assam had grabbed an umbrella from the stand beside her.
With this impromptu weapon in hand, Assam grew bolder and began to not only duck and weave between Maho's swings, but started to go on the offensive, blocking and parrying, poking and thrusting in riposte as she slowly put a halt to Maho's advance and even managed to drive her back a step or two.
Realizing that Assam was more skilled than she had anticipated, and that the initiative was slipping from her grasp, Maho took one final step backwards, before lunging at her foe and putting all her strength into a final, purposeful swing with the saber's pommel, aiming squarely for the side of Assam's head to knock her out.
Assam didn't block the assault in time, there was no room left for her to do so, but instead she twirled the umbrella around in her fingers as she herself swerved and moved out of Maho's way, swinging the hook-like handle of her weapon down low so that it caught on Maho's ankle, before giving a firm tug to send Maho's only point of balance flying into the air and her face falling to the floor.
"Now," Assam said through heavy, though very clearly entertained breaths as Maho groaned from the impact and felt the point of the umbrella poking at the small of her back, pinning her to the ground, "Lady Darjeeling is waiting for you. Please come this way."
Assam swiftly and firmly escorted Maho out of the study and onto the second floor, giving her no real opportunity for escape or another skirmish before they reached a set of large white-painted doors with a grid of window panes set into the upper half.
Emerging on the other side, Maho was guided out onto the rear balcony of the building, a large stone floor with vine-clad marble banisters running along the edge.
"Ah, Radio Operator Nishizumi," Darjeeling greeted with a delighted smile from a chair at a wooden table in one corner. Sitting beside her around the table was what to Maho might as well have been a clone of the St. Gloriana commander, although this girl had orange hair instead of Darjeeling's blonde, and was considerably shorter. Both of them, as well as a pair of additional chairs, were protected from the sun by a large sunshade protruding from the wall, bathing the table's half of the balcony in cool shade. "How kind of you to join us."
"Very droll," Maho answered bitterly as she sat herself down in the chair on the opposite side of the table from Darjeeling. Assam took the final chair, placing herself between Darjeeling and Maho while also making sure that she was well within reach to trip their guest up if she tried to escape.
"And here I was looking forward to some of the Nishizumi's telltale sense of humor," Darjeeling smiled, before eating the last sliver of black pudding left on the plate before her. "Would you like something to eat, perhaps?" she asked after a few seconds, and glanced down to the now emptied plate. "It's still rather early, and you are quite far from Ooarai after all. I'm sure the kitchen could have something whipped up in no time."
"I'm not hungry," Maho said shortly, crossing her arms and glaring bitterly at her combined host and captor.
"Very well," Darjeeling shrugged, and took a sip of her tea. "Then I suppose I should introduce my companions. I assume you and Assam here have already gotten acquainted. Any thoughts on that, by the way?" she added, and turned to Assam.
"She fights about as well as she sneaks around," Assam replied, glancing over to Maho with a small, confident smile. "That is to say; quite impressively, for an amateur."
"Fascinating," Darjeeling nodded in answer, and turned to her orange-haired clone. "Maho Nishizumi, allow me to present Orange Pekoe; My loader and protégé."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Nishizumi," Orange Pekoe said with a respectful bow, which Maho answered with a small nod. She then rose from her chair and walked over to a small cabinet a few paces away with a kettle placed on top of it, opening the top drawer with practiced familiarity. "Would you perhaps like some tea? We have a wide variety of blends and-"
"Coffee," Maho interrupted, not taking her eyes off Darjeeling. "As black as you can make it."
"Oh… I… I see..." Orange Pekoe replied, and looked to her commander for guidance.
"I think perhaps Miss Nishizumi and I should speak in private," Darjeeling said calmly, and gave a small reassuring wave to her companions. "But please bring a pot of coffee once it is ready, Orange Pekoe."
"Of course, Lady Darjeeling," Orange Pekoe answered and gave a small curtsy before disappearing through the door, taking the empty tray containing the dishes of Darjeeling's breakfast with her. Assam remained for a few more moments, glancing at Maho and wordlessly conveying her objections to Darjeeling, but soon she left the balcony as well.
"I must say, I was a bit surprised to hear that of all the possible spies Ooarai could have sent, you yourself chose to grace us with your presence," Darjeeling said calmly once they were alone. "With how well-known your face is, I was thinking you would have allowed Miss Akiyama another shot at the task, or perhaps Miss Isuzu. She seems like she could very easily have walked the ship bow to stern without anyone getting the slightest bit suspicious. Although," she added with an amused smile after a few moments of silence, "you seem to have quite the knack for surprising us all, so I suppose I should have expected the unexpected."
"You're the one who's clever with sayings and quotes," Maho shrugged, and let her fingers drum against the surface of the table.. "Didn't someone say that 'If the king doesn't lead, how can he expect his subordinates to follow'?"
"Ah, yes…" Darjeeling nodded in recognition and rose from the table, walking over to the banister to stare out across the verdant green of Ark Royal's countryside.
"What is this about, Darjeeling?" Maho snarled, and got up from her own chair, starting to pace like a restless tiger. "Either spit it out, or throw me overboard. I don't have any interest in games."
"I wanted to convey my congratulations," Darjeeling answered wistfully, even as her back remained turned towards Maho. "I find it difficult to believe that the same team I faced in Ooarai not at all so long ago is now challenging me in the semi-finals. And yet, here we are…" She turned and sat herself down, leaning against the barrister with a coy smile towards Maho. "I must say, you've impressed me quite deeply, Nishizumi. In fact, I would be lying if I said you hadn't been living rent-free in my mind these past weeks."
"Is that so?" Maho sneered. "You haven't crossed mine at all."
"You wound me, Nishizumi, truly you wound me," Darjeeling laughed and put a hand to her chest in an overly dramatic fashion. "Surely we must not be enemies simply because our two schools are slated to meet on the field of battle?"
"I don't see why we wouldn't," Maho muttered. "Acting all friendly will just get in the way of m-... our victory."
"Methinks that's the Kuromorimine in you speaking," Darjeeling said thoughtfully, and turned back to lean against the barrister as she looked out over the open fields. "It definitely doesn't sound like the Maho Nishizumi I have seen fight these past rounds."
"What do you know?" Maho said in disbelief and rolled her eyes. "You're just like everyone else, only seeing what they see and thinking they know me."
"Perhaps," Darjeeling admitted. "But whatever the case may be, you fascinate me deeply." She nodded and gave a small gesture for Maho to join her by the barrister, but Maho remained put where she was in the shade. In the distance, the rumble of tanks had begun to die down as the team's morning practice reached an end. "What do you think Sensha-Do is?" Darjeeling asked after a minute's silence.
"It's a sport, just like any other," Maho muttered in answer, more annoyed at the simplicity of the question than the continuation of the conversation. "Anyone who thinks it's anything else is either a fool or a liar. Or both."
"I think Sensha-Do is quite the fascinating thing," Darjeeling said wistfully. "It's nothing like what the promotional videos your family helps produce, that much I agree with. But it's definitely more than a simple sport."
"And why's that?" Maho sighed, and slowly walked over to the barrister, bending over and leaning against it a meter or two away from Darjeeling.
"To me, Sensha-Do is a mirror," Darjeeling answered. "The most perfect mirror ever made. It doesn't show us what uniform we wear or whose face we carry, but it does show us who we truly are below everything else. It shows us who we are, what we value, what we dream of, and how we wish we could live our lives. That's what I think Sensha-Do is. Something to show us who we and our opponents truly are." She paused for a moment, and stared out across the horizon as she drew a few breaths of the summer air. "As you can imagine," she added with a smile after a while, "I quite enjoy looking at it."
"It doesn't surprise me," Maho muttered. "You were always vain."
"Perhaps I am," Darjeeling shrugged and chuckled. "But if I'm right, what reason is there not to look?"
"You might not like what you see…" Maho said in a low voice, and stared out to sea, letting a dark patch of storm clouds in the distance grasp her attention.
"Uhm… excuse me…" Orange Pekoe said nervously from behind them.
"Yes?" Darjeeling asked and turned to face her protégé, while Maho continued looking to the horizon.
"Miss Nishizumi's coffee," the younger girl replied, and gently lifted the tray she was holding by a few centimeters to further emphasize her answer. "I took the liberty to provide some tea for you, Commander, as well as a selection of pastries."
"Thank you, Orange Pekoe. I'm certain we shall enjoy them a great deal." Darjeeling gestured for Orange Pekoe to put the tray down on the table, and then dismissed her once more with a small nod.
Once she heard the door to the balcony close once more, Maho sighed and left the bannister behind, making her way to the table and pouring herself a cup of coffee.
"Is it not to your liking?" Darjeeling asked as Maho grimaced and glared at the black liquid in her cup after her first sip.
"No… it's fine," Maho answered. "If you weren't so insufferable, I'd probably even say I enjoy it," she added with a mutter and sat herself down by the table once more.
"Very well, I'll take what I can get," Darjeeling laughed and grabbed the cup of tea Orange Pekoe had prepared as well as one of the pastries, walking over and leaning herself against the cabinet.
"You still haven't told me what you want," Maho muttered, and took another sip of her coffee. "If you want to debate philosophy you've put the wrong person in the cage."
"Now now, there's no need to be impolite," Darjeeling said coyly. "Especially now that we're just starting to get along." She paused for a moment, taking a bite of her pastry and a sip of tea, before continuing. "I was just hoping we could have a cozy little cup of tea together as we talked."
"Just get to the point, will you?" Maho sighed and finished the last of her coffee, before filling the cup anew.
"Very well, I suppose I have kept you on the hook for long enough," Darjeeling smiled and turned to the cabinet. "I want you to play a game with me," she continued as she fiddled with the lock for a moment and opened a drawer.
"I don't want to play a game," Maho replied apathetically.
"Please?" Darjeeling asked without moving her attention from the drawer, rummaging gently through its contents in search of something. "I've become quite a fan of this new Maho Nishizumi during her short but fruitful career.
"No," Maho reiterated as she emptied her cup once more, rose from her chair, and began walking away from the table towards the doors.
"Unless you plan on setting a new world record for long-distance swimming I don't think you're getting off this carrier without my say-so," Darjeeling said with an unfamiliar sharpness. "You tried coming into my house and you failed, so play a bloody game with me." A short but contained clatter followed the borderline command, and for a moment it took Maho aback. She recognized the clatter, and she recognised the two wooden bowls that Darjeeling had fished out of the cabinet. Glancing back to the table, she now noticed the grid carved into the center of it, and that too she recognized.
The entire table was a Go board.
"So…" Maho sighed as her shoulders and neck slumped, "if I play this game with you, you promise you'll let me go back to land?"
"Upon my honor as an Englishman," Darjeeling replied with a satisfied smile, any and all of the sharpness having vanished from her voice as swiftly as it had appeared.
"You're no Englishman," Maho smirked, and walked back to the table with determined steps, taking one of the bowls and drawing a deep breath as she sat back down and prepared herself. Glancing over at Darjeeling, who still stood smiling by the cabinet, she picked a stone from her bowl, and placed it down upon the board etched into the center of the table with a soft clack. She was going to enjoy wiping that incessant smirk off Darjeeling's lips. "Your move."
Clack
Clack
Clack "Atari."
Clack
Clack "Atari."
Clack
"You see it, don't you?" Darjeeling asked. Clack "Atari"
"Just shut up and play…" Maho muttered, and stared at the board.
"Nishizumi, my dear…." Darjeeling continued. "Surely you can see that-"
"I said 'Shut up'," Maho repeated coldly, and put another stone down. "Your move."
A silence fell over the table as Maho awaited Darjeeling's move. But when it didn't come, even after several seconds more than the blonde had taken on the rest of her moves, Maho glanced up. Darjeeling was far from lost in thought and planning however. She wasn't even looking at the board. Instead, her gaze was firmly fixed on Maho.
"What?" Maho growled, and looked up completely. "Are you going to play or what?!"
Darjeeling sighed for a short moment and reached for her tea. Once she returned it to its saucer, she looked at Maho once more with a worried, almost motherly gaze, one which Maho found infuriating.
"I know this is something difficult for someone from Kuromorimine to hear and accept… even more so for someone like yourself," she said calmly. "But there is no shame in defeat, Nishizumi. And accepting it rather than slamming oneself into a brick wall when it becomes unavoidable is only sensible."
"Thanks…" Maho muttered. "I suggest you keep that in mind when I beat you."
"Very well," Darjeeling sighed, and put down another stone. "Atari."
Maho returned her gaze and focus to the board, and let her thoughts race. She could see just as well as Darjeeling that her position was far from great, that the central group she had spent the entire game building up was surrounded on all sides and without any escape. No! Go was a game of strategy and skill, and as long as she kept playing, there was going to be a way to victory. As long as she kept playing, kept thinking, kept on convincing herself that victory wouldn't elude her for long….
Clack "Atari."
Clack
Clack "Atari."
Clack
Clack
Clack
Clack "Atari."
With every move made, Darjeeling's voice trailed off and disappeared just a bit more. At least it seemed that way, as it was slowly drowned out by the clacking of her stones against the board growing more and more deafening in Maho's ears, like a stampede of rhinos closing in on her from all sides.
Clack
Clack "Atari."
Clack
Clack "Atari."
Maho shook her head and redoubled her focus on the board. No matter what she did, the noose of Darjeeling's white stones was only growing tighter around her own black stones, and with every stone she placed, with every avenue of escape that closed off, she felt her back begin to burn and crawl as her scars once more made themselves known.
"A Nishizumi doesn't lose…"
"A Nishizumi doesn't lose…"
"A Nishizumi doesn't lose…"
Her mother's voice and her own echoed through the shadowy corners at the back of her mind, simultaneously egging her on and driving her further into the noose, the words themselves soon beginning to press against her throat.
She thought she had left this all behind.
She was supposed to be stronger than this. She was supposed to be better than this. She wasn't supposed to stumble and fall back like this. The old version of herself living in the recesses of her mind was supposed to be gone. But despite everything, she could still feel the cold waters of the abyss begin to pool around her feet, and the creeping tendrils began to claw for perches once more.
"Nishizumi…"
Maho's eyes flitted furiously across the board, searching, searching for something, anything that would turn the table, even as the voices echoed in the back of her mind and her throat started to choke and she could feel her legs sink deeper and deeper only to-...
"Nishizumi."
Looking up from the table for the first time in what felt like an hour, Maho once again laid eyes upon Darjeeling, who held an open hand outstretched towards her as she looked at Maho with deep concern and worry filling her eyes.
"It's over, my dear," she said in a low but understanding voice. "You have given me a formidable game, and I thank you most humbly for it, but it is over." Maho tried returning her focus to the board, but Darjeeling only continued. "You are an incredible player, Nishizumi, and I could never think any less of you. That is, as long as you don't insist on fighting this losing battle to its inevitable conclusion."
Maho stared at the board, and even though she could still feel the voices and the abyss egging her on from within, she knew deep down that Darjeeling was right. She just refused to accept it. Despite knowing the truth, and knowing that there was nothing at stake, her very being and concept of self seemed to rail and protest against the notion of surrender.
Glancing back up, she once again had to look at Darjeeling's worried face, to which she could only roll her eyes and look away.
"Nishizumi, are you-..."
"Fine..." Maho muttered with a sigh. "I resign. Happy now?"
"Not particularly," Darjeeling replied with a smile, and bowed. "But I must thank you for an exciting game." She finished the cup of tea beside her and rose from her chair, reaching out a hand to Maho. At first Maho just stared bitterly at it, but after a few moments she shook Darjeeling's hand.
"Thank you for the game," she mumbled and nodded.
"Now," Darjeeling said wistfully and paced a bit, "as much as the thought wounds me, I assume you didn't simply come to visit our lovely carrier for just a cup of tea and a game of Go." She stopped, and looked over her shoulder at Maho with a kind yet devilish smile "You would much rather I showed you what tanks we will be bringing, I presume?" Maho didn't answer, and instead only glared bitterly at Darjeeling's coy smile, before finally sighing and nodding. "Well, in that case, I have the honor to be your obedient servant."
The refined quiet of the rest of the Ark Royal began to retreat as Darjeeling led the way to the Sensha-Do team's garage. Or more precisely, their primary garage. Unlike smaller schools such as Ooarai, who simply didn't have the funds or experience for any major storage and mechanics' facilities, St. Gloriana and the other major schools had two separate garages. Some, like Saunders, had even more. The primary garage above deck was where tanks the team were currently using were stored, while a second, proper mechanics' garage below deck not only provided plenty of room to store the less frequently used parts of the team's arsenal, but also allowed for major repairs and refits on a scale the primary one simply couldn't handle. To facilitate this, and avoid having to make do with student mechanics like Ooarai, the two garages were staffed with an entire full-time crew of mechanics who maintained, managed, repaired, refitted, and kept track of the dozens of tanks and their individual needs.
And although there was still plenty of activity in the primary garage, with mechanics criss-crossing the large hangar to check on tanks and deal with any minor scuffs and scrapes from the team's morning training session, the dominant source of commotion was not mechanical in nature, but argumentative.
"Please, Miss Q, can you not just try your best to-" a girl in St. Gloriana's red and black tank uniform with her left leg in a cast, her brown hair neatly made up in pin curls and topped off with a black beret, pleaded, but she was swiftly and sharply cut off.
"Now listen here, Princess!" an older, though still very young-looking, woman with long white braided hair dressed in a stained and oily sky-blue overall snarled as she waved a wrench in the girl's face. "If it were up to me, for a cock-up like yours, you'd be off the team and halfway back to Wales by now."
"It's… uhm... it's England, Ma'am-"
"Don't interrupt me!" the woman cut back, and knocked the girl on the head with the wrench. "You cracked the turret ring, snapped the treads, broke five road wheels, and bent the barrel like a piece of spaghetti, so if I were you, I would consider myself lucky you're just stuck here with a broken leg. 'Cause if you ask me one more time to give any sort of priority to your tank for repairs instead of keeping it at the bottom of the list where it belongs, I'll make sure you end up just as broken and battered as you made that Challenger. Capeesh?!"
"Y-yes… Ma'am…"
"And you!" the woman exclaimed bitterly, turning to face Darjeeling and storm over as they entered the garage.
"'Q'," Darjeeling said calmly and nodded in greeting.
"Don't get cute with me, Missy," the woman, who apparently was just called 'Q', muttered. "This is a Sensha-Do team and not a circus, so please tell me; Do you know what this is?!" she asked coldly and held out some manner of mechanical part towards Darjeeling.
"I am sorry to say I do not," Darjeeling replied with a smile, "but I believe you are about to inform me?"
"This is the fifth speed limiter that dimwitted speedster of yours has ripped out of my engine block in the span of three weeks, despite my repeated demands that she be kept at least a mile from this garage and my tanks at all times!"
"Now, now, 'Q'," Darjeeling answered, seemingly completely unfazed by 'Q''s fuming anger. "While I of course take your advice and suggestions under the strongest possible consideration, and I deeply respect the efforts of both you and the rest of your crew, the tanks aren't technically yours. They are the property of the individual crews assigned to them for the duration of their time with the team, and I believe Rosehip shows a lot of promise for the future, so perhaps it'd be best if-"
"Add whatever strange creatures you want to your little menagerie," 'Q' muttered and glanced bitterly at the girl with the pincurls, "but let me make one thing perfectly clear; if I find out that one of your tankers have put their niggling little fingers where they don't belong again, I will be very unhappy. And," she added, her anger and fury now on complete display as she pointed with her wrench to what could only be described as the complete and utter wreck of a Crusader lying limp and defeated in the corner, before waving it very violently in Darjeeling's face, "if that maniac ever brings a tank back in that condition again, I won't just wait with glee for the day her engine block explodes from a removed speed limiter and burns her to a crisp, I will kill her. I will kill her with this wrench, which was given to my father by William Morris, the 1st Viscount Nuffield, and then I will kill her again with my own hands. Good day!"
With that, she stormed off muttering and disappeared behind a line of Matilda IIs, leaving Darjeeling and Maho alone in the garage, although the girl with pincurls and the broken leg slowly started hobbling towards them on a pair of crutches.
"Lady Darjeeling," the girl greeted with a quick salute when she reached them. "I… uhh… I don't believe we've met?" she added as she looked at Maho.
"Ma-"
"This is Yutori Arakaki," Darjeeling swiftly interrupted. "She's considering joining the team next semester, so I'm showing her around. Yutori, this is English Breakfast, recently transferred from England."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss English Breakfast" Maho nodded and shook the girl's outstretched hand.
"Oh, no, the pleasure's all mine," English Breakfast replied with a gentle blushing of her cheeks. "B-but please, just call me Sarah. I'm… I'm not really anything special…"
"I'm not so certain, Darjeeling chuckled. "Having the guts to go up against 'Q' is plenty special if you ask me."
"O-oh… you… you heard that?" Sarah said in a low, almost embarrassed voice, and looked away for a moment before returning her focus to Darjeeling. "But, Lady Darjeeling, can't you talk to her? It really wasn't my fault!"
"I don't think 'Q' is going to be swayed by that argument," Darjeeling replied with a wistful smile. "And besides, even if she got around to fixing your tank before the semifinals, you are in no shape to command it."
"But-..."
"I know you want to help, Sarah," Darjeeling interrupted. "And I think that's very commendable. But you need to rest and heal, or you risk putting your comrades in harm's way on the field." She reached out a hand and appreciatively patted Sarah's shoulder. "So please, make sure to take this time to recover, and I'm sure we'll have great use of you in the finals." Darjeeling gave a confident smile and glanced at Maho as she spoke of the finals, but Maho just rolled her eyes at her cockiness.
"Oh, alright…" Sarah sighed. "Th-thanks for thinking of me…" she said in a low, disappointed yet understanding voice, and began to hobble out of the garage. "It was nice meeting you, Yutori," she called over her shoulder.
"What happened to her leg?" Maho asked once her and Darjeeling were relatively alone again. "Not to mention her tank?"
"She was trying to outflank the enemy's flag tank during our second-round match, but misread the map and ended up being blocked by a gully. One of my other tank commanders had recently managed to jump across a ditch during one of our training sessions, and English Breakfast had no intention of being any less impressive. Unfortunately, she misjudged the size of the gap, and her tank ended up on its roof at the bottom."
"But… how did she snap the treads and break the road wheels?"
"For the sake of the poor girl's dignity, I won't answer that," Darjeeling chuckled. "Anyhow, shall we get started with the tour?"
"Ah, Lady Darjeeling!" a girl with long brown hair in a braid called out and sprinted towards Maho and Darjeeling as they exited the garage. "Miss Assam told you wanted to-... wait…" the girl paused and looked with confusion and suspicion at Maho. "Aren't you…"
"Yes, very good, Rukuriri," Darjeeling replied in a carefree manner. "Miss Nishizumi here seems to have boarded the wrong ship this morning. I've already made arrangements for you to use the Wessex, so would you please make sure she gets back to the Zuikaku safe and sound?"
"N-Nishizumi…?" Rukuriri asked, and looked once more at Maho. "As… as in…"
"Yes. The very same. That's not going to be an issue, is it?" Darjeeling asked rather pointedly.
"N-no! Of-... of course not!" Rukuriri stammered, and gestured down a walkway for Maho to follow. "If… uhh… if you would come this way, Miss Nishizumi…"
Maho glanced over at Darjeeling at this, before sighing and shaking her head. After a moment however, she gave a small appreciative nod to her opponent, and followed Rukuriri across the campus once more.
"So, how did it go? Everything went off without a hitch, right?"
"Have you heard this saying?" Maho said sarcastically as she strode down the hallway, glancing bitterly at Yukari. "Sense never survives first contact with tea."
"Uhm… No… I don't think so…"
"Is something the matter, Maho?" Hana asked. "Did something go wrong during your infiltration?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Maho muttered, and pulled open the door to the spare classroom Yuzu had arranged for the team to meet in. The rest of the team were already gathered and were acting as jovially as one might expect, but any and all commotion died down as Maho entered. Yukari, Hana, and the rest of the Phoenix's crew followed behind her and took their places. "Alright," Maho sighed as she picked up the chalk and began to scribble on the blackboard. "As you know, we're fighting in the semi-finals on Saturday, and we're once again facing St. Gloriana." Glancing over her shoulder, Maho didn't have a hard time picking up on the gloomy mood that filled the room. "Hey!" she yelled, and slammed a fist into the wall as she turned around to face the team. "Quit moping around."
"But…" Ayumi said, "St. Gloriana are way better than us…"
"They did beat us really badly last time," Taeko Shinobu noted.
"And he who knows not his history is doomed to repeat it," Oryou said solemnly. "They beat us before, and they'll beat us again…"
"We almost tied them though!" Yukari countered.
"Yeah, but to be fair, that was really only because you guys pulled a reverse on them in the second half," Noriko replied and pointed vaguely at Phoenix team. "If Maho wasn't as experienced as she is, we'd have all been finished already in the ravine."
Glancing over to where the Student council was sitting, Maho couldn't help but smirk for a moment as she saw Momo try her best to not get herself noticed.
"W-w-w-w-we watched tha-tha-that first match," Nekonya said.
"Yeah…" Momoga added anxiously. "A-and we're still way under-leveled!"
"Hey, that's not true!" Azusa said with not quite enough conviction to make anyone believe she really meant it. "We won against Saunders, and we beat Anzio! We can take on St. Gloriana! Right...?" she added when it became evident that her slightly forced enthusiasm wasn't very effective at raising the team's spirits.
"Yeah!" Saori said triumphantly. "We'll show everyone how good we are, and then boys will stumble over themselves to propose to m-"
"You're right…" Maho said shortly. "All of you."
"Yeah, and then-... Wait, they are?" Yukari asked.
"Yep…" Maho answered and shrugged, pacing a bit back and forth as she considered her next words. "St. Gloriana are better than us. They have more tanks, better crews, and more experience. That's just a fact."
"Maho, I do not think this is very effective as a pep-talk," Hana said in a shushed voice.
"But!" Maho added. "We have something they don't have."
"What's that?" Taiga asked.
"Is it a Jaeger?!" Karina asked excitedly.
"No. We have the element of surprise," Maho said with a dramatic flair. "We know just how good they are, but they have no idea how much you have all improved during these past months. We know how they fight, but they have no clue how we fight." Not that I have any idea how we fight either… she added quietly to herself.
"W-w-we have Nishizumi too…" Piyotan said. "Th-that's like having a Gameshark!
"We know the past as well!" Saemonza added with a cheer.
"We have each other too!" Aya noted.
"Plus we have Guts!" Noriko cheered. "Guts and sheer determination!"
"That's it!" Hippo team said in unison and stood up to point excitedly at Noriko.
From there, the team's mood swiftly began to improve, until after a few minutes Maho felt it had stabilized enough that she could continue with the briefing.
"So," she said once the excitement had died down, and turned back to the blackboard. "We're going to be fighting on the Federation's Odawara field, so we need to-"
"We're going to Odawara?!" Yukari asked excitedly. "T-to the Federation Arena?!"
"What's so special with that?" Saori asked. "We've fought on battlefields before?"
"Not like this!" Yukari replied, just as excitedly. "Most Sensha-Do battles are held on the Federations 38 regular battlefields. There's one in each prefecture. They work really well for more base-line battles like the ones we've been fighting, woods, hills, plains, stuff like that."
"Wait…" Akebi said. "You said there's 38 battlefields, one in each prefecture. But that still leaves… One, two, three-"
"Nine," Mako mumbled. "There's forty-seven prefectures, minus thirty-eight battlefields, leaving nine left."
"Right!" Akebi nodded. "So…"
"What about the last nine?" Caesar asked.
"They each have one of the so-called 'Federation Arenas'," Yukari answered. "Each Federation Arena is a massive area of land set aside specifically for Sensha-Do, and each one is built specifically to create a different terrain to fight in. One simulates the jungles of South-East Asia, one has snow and ice like the Russian steppes, one is full of canyons and mountains, one is-"
"So what's the one in Odawara?!" Momo demanded.
"Oh, right…" Yukari said with a blush, realizing she had gotten carried away in her excitement. "Odawara's often called 'The Oven' in Sensha-Do circles. It's built to replicate the deserts of the North African theater."
"How the heck is there a desert in the middle of Japan?" sodoko asked with a hint of annoyance and disbelief. "Or a snowstorm-riddled wasteland, for that matter."
"The battlefield's enclosed on all sides by a giant wall, and the terrain within has been carefully sculpted to make sure it can properly simulate it's defined battlefield."
"So it's kinda like terraforming?" Azusa asked.
"Yeah, sort of!" Yukari replied.
"Anyways," Maho interrupted. "As I was saying, we're fighting on the Odawara Arena, which means we'll be going into a desert. The treads all need to be fitted with snow-chains to make sure you don't slip too much in the sand, and we'll also need to make sure to bring plenty of extra water. We don't know how long the battle will be, and temperatures in the arena can reach close to 50 degrees, especially during the summer, so make sure to keep hydrated."
"What about the enemy?" Erwin asked. "Do we know what St. Gloriana will bring to be the Montgomery to our Rommel?"
"You do know Rommel lost the North Africa campaign, right?" Mako mumbled.
"Of course I know that," Erwin snapped back before looking away with a pout. "It's just… I mean, he... you just didn't have to say that, OK?"
"Well," Maho continued, trying to not let the conversation derail further, "supposedly, their force will consist of a Churchill Mk VII as the flag tank with four Matilda IIs in support, like during our exhibition match. Added to that, they'll bring a platoon of five Crusader MkIII cruiser tanks, and one platoon of additional Matilda IIs. At least, that's what Darjeeling said they'll bring," she added, almost like an afterthought as she wrote the opposition down on the blackboard.
"She told you their tank composition herself?" Yuzu asked worriedly. "Why would she do that?"
"Let's just say my little excursion was full of surprises," Maho muttered.
"So, Nishizumi…" Anzu said absentmindedly as she nibbled on a sweet potato chip, "you trust her?"
"I only trust her as far as I can throw her. Which is still more than I trust you, Pipsqueak," Maho smirked.
"As you should!" Anzu laughed and leaned back in her chair.
"But whatever the case may be, there's too many possibilities as to what they might bring to build any sort of plan around, so the only thing we can do is start with this as a base. It's not like we have the tanks or manpower to rotate and switch out our own force to counter them anyways, so I'll be satisfied just having a vague idea of what they're bringing."
"Then, how will we organize ourselves?" Azusa asked.
"Much like we did against Anzio," Maho replied. "Although we're making some changes too. Erwin, your platoon will consist of Hippo, Heron, and Anteater. Azusa will command the rabbits, Ducks, and Turtles. Phoenix will act as our flag tank and lend support whenever and wherever needed." She turned around to the blackboard and began to mark out their own forces as well as those of St. Gloriana with magnets on the board, moving them around as she began to explain her plan for the battle.
"I take it our guest has left us?" Assam asked as Orange Pekoe poured the tea.
"Yes, Rukuriri flew her back to the Zuikaku after I showed her the garage," Darjeeling replied, and nibbled on a scone.
"But Lady Darjeeling-... I mean-... Do you truly think this is wise?" Assam pressed further. "Surely the wisest choice of action would have been to make sure Nishizumi never even got aboard?"
"On the contrary, Assam," Darjeeling said calmly, and accepted her cup from Orange Pekoe. "If we had stopped her from boarding, we would have given off the impression that there is something we wish to hide. That would only make Ooarai work that much harder not only to infiltrate us and find out what we are planning, but also to defeat us. Instead, I simply told Miss Nishizumi what she wanted to hear, and sent her on her way. This way, I have left as little as possible to her imagination. Not to mention me getting to play quite the wondrous game of Go as well."
"Does that mean your fascination with Miss Nishizumi has been satiated?" Orange Pekoe asked.
"No, I don't think it has…" Darjeeling said wistfully and glanced over at the go board at the other end of the balcony, every stone still in the same place as where her and Maho had left them. "If anything, I think it has only grown deeper," she smiled.
"So in other words, this entire exercise was a giant waste of time…" Assam sighed.
"Assam. Do you know this saying?" Darjeeling smirked. "Never attempt to win by force that which can be won by deception."
"Machiavelli, I believe?" Orange Pekoe replied.
"Indeed. And I believe that with this deception of ours, we shall have plenty of force to spare when we face Kuromorimine."
"Lady Darjeeling," Rukuriri called from the door, before walking over to their table and handing Darjeeling a small note. "Miss 'Q' asked me to give you this."
"Ah, thank you Rukuriri," Darjeeling nodded. A few moments later, the three were alone once more.
"Good news, Lady Darjeeling?" Orange Pekoe asked.
"If it's from 'Q', it's bound to just be another rant about some dent the size of a stamp," Assam muttered and sipped her tea.
"No, nothing of the sort…" Darjeeling smiled. "Nothing at all of the sort. She and her team have finished restoring our latest acquisition." She stood up and raised her cup before her. "Ladies, I believe this momentous addition to our team requires a toast. To the Victory!"
Assam and Orange Pekoe both joined Darjeeling on their feet, and raised their cups as well.
"To the Victory!"
Next Time on Dein Weg ist Mein Weg: The Semi-finals finally begin for Ooarai, but what will be the biggest danger to the team; the desert, or the truth?
Author's Notes:
New chapter! And a lot sooner than I had originally expected.
The original vision for this chapter way back when I first decided to switch around the semifinals was actually quite different, and a lot closer to what I imagine many of you believed this chapter would be about. My original idea was for Yukari and Assam to engage in a bit of a game of cat-and-mouse, and for Yukari to only just manage an escape in the end. But as I thought about it, I ended up deciding against that. Obviously, duh.
To begin with, I think other writers have done the whole "Yukari infiltrates a school"-thing very well in the past, as has GuP itself. Which means it's something we already kind of know how it goes. Letting Yukari get away or even outsmart Assam would also have made Assam and seem a bit incompetent and not as threatening of a foe, so that was something I definitely wanted to avoid. I also wanted an excuse for Maho and Darjeeling to interact a bit more, and for Darjeeling to try and find some answers in her fascination. I'll be honest and say I'm not 100% sure that I like the way it all turned out, but I've also come to realize that if I were to rewrite every chapter until I was completely satisfied and couldn't find any flaws in it, there would never be another chapter released in this story. So some compromises have to be made.
I will say, it turns out that writing a one-on-one melee is a whole lot more challenging than writing tank battles. Still, I really think Maho and Assam's little scuffle came together quite nicely, so I hope you think so too.
We've also got a one-way ticket to cameo city this chapter. To begin with there is an appearance from 'Q', a character from my other story Tales from the Tea Garden, which obviously also served as the inspiration for the chapter's title, and there are some other little references strewn about for fans of both series. (please give it a read, it's really good, I promise. GuP-based high school slice-of-life is awesome).
There's also a cameo from Sarah "English Breakfast" Alexander, the main OC from my friend Montysmypython's stories, the biggest one being The Fallen Crown, so please do check those out if you want to see more of her adventures.
Also, massive 'Thank you's to TheShadowAuthor21, Sharkycast, and Rosy the PIAT-teer for helping me out with this chapter! Please check out their stories if you want more excellent fanfics!
Beyond that, I don't know how much else there is for me to talk about. I'm still struggling through university, and also recently came to the realization that I've been dragging around a sizeable depression for the past little while, so that's fun…
Either way, as always, I make no promises for when the next chapter will be out, but if everything goes to plan it'll be out sometime before the year is over.
I realize I say this every single chapter, but it doesn't stop being true: I love getting to read you guys' thoughts on my work just as much as you seem to enjoy reading it, so thank you all from the depths of my heart for your support, and if you have the time, energy, and feel like doing it, I would love it if you left a review.
Thank you all for reading and keeping me encouraged to continue, and until next time, stay safe out there everyone!
/Rihno