Memories


A cool October morning brought with it the light of a new day.

Dawn was and still is one of the most fascinating times humanity can witness. A transition of night to day that only the early birds of society would have the privilege to cherish in its unparalleled awe. A midnight blue sky giving way to the orange warmth of a rising sun is something completely expected, but never getting old. And so it would be, another bright morning beckoning to the lives of the island of Kyushu.

At the heart of the island, a city awash with the sounds of the urban morning. Kumamoto was like most typical mid-sized cities in Japan. A bustle of activity, a quaintness of society, a palette ripe with color, a concrete jungle, but most of all, a statement. Standing watch over the Ariake Sea it presided as a symbol of power, prosperity, and opportunity over the waters like its personal dominion. A modern city set amidst the culture and history of the Japanese people, Kumamoto was a vibrant core.

There were some exceptions.

One could go beyond the urban center of the city and find a world beyond. Traveling outward, company buildings and castles gave way to scattered housing and the occasional shrine. It's only then that one could expect to find the seemingly endless rows of green, the many thousands of crops neatly grown ahead of the harvest season. And pushing just a little further, on the farthest outskirts of Kumamoto lay a house.

Far away from the everyday swing of life one could expect in the city, it was the last place that could be expected to see any significant activity. But for a select few, it wasn't just the average home for the average citizen. It certainly didn't look the part. With several large rooms and an outdoor garden, it could have been any citizen's house until a closer inspection revealed the careful selection of expensive woods that made up the beams and frames.

That wasn't the specialty of this place. No, it was the particular residents themselves.

This morning at least it was just the one resident to concert about. Within the living room, two women, one a guest, sat upon the tatami mats as they were wrapping up the last of some official business. Today was just like any other day for the two within the premises. Nothing more than official documentation that had to be sorted out for the respective organization. Paperwork: it's never fun, but still a necessary labor to ensure functionality of some well established association.

"Will that be all?" One of the women asked, tidying up her assortment of documents.

"Yes, this should be the last of the applications," she replied in kind as she added one final signature to a document before handing it back to the guest.

Satisfied, the guest rose from her sitting position. "It's an honor to conduct business with you. Thank you, Ms. Nishizumi."

They briefly exchanged formalities before the guest stepped out beyond the residence grounds and into a parked car. Watching the car pull away and disappearing down the road, Ms. Nishizumi once again had a quiet morning all to herself.

That's right. Believe it or not, this was none other than the generational talent of a family whose name was rooted deep in history. Miho Nishizumi, a woman of an ordinary time with an extraordinary ability.

She was much different now than when she was just a second year high school student. Her short, light brown hair had lengthened considerably in the passage of time, and the usual school-appropriate attire of a student was long gone. It was no longer the white and green serafuku, but now as of late she was donned in a modest business outfit suited to her current profession.

Yet visuals were not the only elements that had transformed. At her very essence she still in some capacities retained that timid yet kindhearted mentality. The same one that had won many hearts and minds, and the one that formed everlasting friendships with bonds stronger than any armor plating.

As the guest set foot and departed the residence, Miho could reminisce about those past times.

The fondness of that was as delightful as it was unforgettable. From the moment she had left Kuromorimine and set foot upon the new greener pasture of Oarai, a new chapter in life was about to begin. Well, greener pasture might have been an overestimation when she first arrived. Low counts of new students, a troubled financial fiasco, and the immediate future of the entire schoolship in limbo, none of these were ever a factor in Kuromorimine. Worse still, there was mounting pressure from the student council to take up the very thing she had sought to step away from. But if there's one thing Miho was exceptionally good at, apart from Sensha-dō, it's facing challenges.

She took it upon to face that past, to defy those that refused to accept her way of things, and in doing so found much more to the joys of life than anything her mother could have prepared her for. New people became comrades, comrades became friends, and those friends became an ongoing connection. In the search for purpose within a new realm, Miho had found her own way of Sensha-dō and with it the blossoms of hope and friendship. Against improbable odds, Oarai, the underdog of underdogs in the sport, had usurped some of the best Sensha-dō to offer.

But it wasn't the end for Miho's story, not by a long shot. Why? Two words, Renta Tsuji. A man bent on the closure of Oarai and one of the most slippery officials within MEXT, all learned at once from a reneging of a promise. Despite the reasonable protests against his dubious antics, the MEXT official did reinforce a valuable point in the end: always get your agreements in writing. Oral ones aren't worth anything until it's set in ink, probably the one lesson that the student council had forgotten at a critical moment.

Of course, Miho and her friends weren't ones to simply roll over and die now. No, this wasn't over so long as a tank could still fire one last round. With strength and guile the president, Anzu Kadotani, had given Oarai a sliver of hope, but against seemingly hopeless odds. A University team boasting an equally talented prodigy as its lead? No way.

But then again, Miho was anything but an ordinary girl.

With the help of all those Miho had forged her bonds with, a do or die mission had become much more than just tanks, more than just history. It was a message that no matter what, even at the lowest, most dire situation, no one has to stand alone. As one of her allies-turned-friends once said, "Yesterday's enemy is today's friend."

Long story short, it was a victory achieved at the narrowest of margins against impossible odds. Yet Miho once again proved that impossible is just a quitter's word. Miho and the rest of Oarai's Sensha-dō team were again hailed as heroes, as well as putting egg on the face of Tsuji. Perhaps he won't make that mistake again. But regardless of the short term effects, Oarai had a more profound impact in the lives of those that lived aboard and abroad.

Ten years have passed since then.

You would think that era of good feelings wouldn't last? Of course not. In the current days of Sensha-dō, the woman who fought to preserve a school and never gave up in the darkest of times, stands as a symbol of honesty, empathy, humility, perseverance, and courage. A continuous reminder of what has forged Sensha-dō and what it should ever strive to be.

But Miho herself? She's one preferring to stay away from all that limelight, opting to enjoy the qualities of life with herself fully in control. Even now Miho still keeps herself in regular contact with many of her school time friends, and if the stories they could share of the last decade were a physical embodiment it would stack higher than the whole of Mount Unzen. Some were married, others found their way into various branches of the workforce, and a select few even went beyond the borders of their homeland to see the world. But they all had one thing in common with their lives. Miho herself. A friend, a comrade, a hope.

Speaking of Sensha-dō, the youngest Nishizumi held one distinctive honor ever since her graduation out of university. Her unwavering championing of Sensha-dō as a greatness to society had eventually paid off in spades, and now she found herself in the very same spot that Renta Tsuji once occupied. The head of the MEXT department for Japan's schoolships, except this time there would be no ulterior thought and no encouragement of desperation. Miho would let the sport be what it had always meant to be, an inspiring art of a sport.

Her older sister, Maho, was far out in her special office of work. Turns out after her stay in Germany for university she went on to enlist within Japan's Self Defense Force. Eventually she ended up within the 7th Division, operating the JGSDF's most modern tank, the Type 10. She liked it, at least that's what Maho said to her younger sister anytime they could talk. Unfortunately, that time to converse was a bit of a premium as the division was currently stationed in Hokkaido, the northernmost island.

As for her parents, the road was and still is ongoing. Even to the present day, Miho and her sister still found it difficult to see eye to eye with their mother and father. Understandable, given the circumstances of their upbringings felt less supportive and forced to mire within an environment rife with toxicity and elitism. But in due time, it is the earnest hope that Miho and Maho can finally put their strenuous past to rest and embrace the future.

Speaking of rest, Miho was just about finished up with another stack of paperwork. Her hands worked up well but were tired from the efforts of her labor. Several hundred writings can prove to be a workout for the wrists. She needed a break even if just for a moment, and if there's one place Miho could count on, the gardens of home provided that serenity. An artful collection of nature if there ever was one, the garden had the likes of many local native plants as well as some from the other islands like Honshu and the Ryukyu chain. Pristinely maintained rows of castanopsis, camellia, eurya, spotted laurels, and other beauties lined throughout the garden.

Yet just a stone's throw away beyond the garden lay a particular oddity. It wasn't the typical wheat or other crop commodity, but one made of steel. German steel. A lone Panzer IV Ausf. H sat motionless within a sea of green. It was an icon of its time, a savior of a school, an unstoppable force of opponents big and small, and a harborer of memories. Memories that would define a person.

No longer did it see the chaos of battle.

Nowadays this mighty machine on the field was destined to be reclaimed by nature. The once immaculate condition now stood at the mercy of mother nature itself, the metalwork long rusted over, and the emblems of Miho's old school and team chipped and eroded away. The only liveliness it still possessed was as a foundation for botanics with a plethora of grasses and other plants growing out between gaps, tracks, and viewports fighting to claim the tank as one of nature's dominion. Standing like a silent vigilante, its turret rotated and main gun aimed permanently, it quietly waits for an opponent that will never again enter its decrepit sights.

To many's surprise when visiting the Nishizumi residence, Miho found nothing wrong with this predicament. She quite liked it in its state of natural decay. After all, her family still retained ownership of a Panzer II they could use for drives around the residence. To her, the Panzer IV had fulfilled its duty and now could live amongst the growth of greenery, a well earned rest for a tired machine.

So Miho could enjoy these few minutes of peace with the sounds of nature. The birds flying about, the blades of grass rustling in the wind-and the revving of a petrol engine?

The sound of that engine slowly came into sight, and sure enough from down the road came a rental sedan car. Odd, this person wasn't anywhere on Miho's morning schedule. But as soon as the car had parked and the mystery visitor had stepped out, all thoughts of confusion evaporated. None of that really mattered the moment she recognized exactly who it was.

"Ms. Nishizumi!" the man greeted. Even years later, he still had that partly awkward bit of himself in his posture, yet also possessing that same commanding potential she saw all those years earlier. Miho couldn't believe her own eyes.

"It's you," she whispered.

"It's been a while." He shrugged with a sheepish smile to boot, yet he was starting to well up. He just couldn't hold himself. "Sorry I couldn't come sooner."

Miho could only respond with a teary nod as the two approached to exchange a heartfelt embrace, formalities be damned. And in that reuniting of friends from all those years back, a moral remains to be championed.

Someone once said that time is like a predator that stalks us all our lives. But we would rather believe that time is a companion that goes with us on our journey, reminding us to cherish every moment because they'll never come again.

What we leave behind is not as important as how we lived it.


AN: The first of a short two-parter I've got on track! And yes, this is my contribution to the Girls und Panzer 10th Anniversary. Next and last part should be within the coming month.