Author's Note: Hi everyone! I've been a longtime lurker on the GuP subreddit and on this FF section, and after reading a lot of the stories here as well as on Wattpad, I've decided to try my hand at it. Enjoy! This is….
GuP: The Cold War Tournament
Chapter I: The Return of Earl Gray
On a crisp spring day, a British Airways Boeing 787 touched down gracefully at Yokohama International Airport after a long but uneventful flight from London Heathrow. It taxied slowly upon the maze of tarmac before nudging to a stop at its designated gate, the massive Rolls-Royce turbofans spooling down. Inside, a multitude of people from all parts of the world and all walks of life clambered up from their somewhat cramped seats, rummaging for their bags in the overhead bins. Not among them was an elegant blonde, dressed in a pale-red suit with a wide-brimmed hat that concealed her face. Her light gray eyes scanned the scene in a practiced manner, much like she'd done for years on the Sensha-Do battlefield. She took a breath and relaxed again, not making a fuss, not complaining, just patiently waiting until it was her turn. Once the line had thinned, she fluidly retrieved her bag in one swift motion and strode confidently off the aircraft. Her lungs filled with the cool, refreshing air. Japanese air. At last, Earl Gray was home.
Unfortunately for her, Earl Gray's calm and relaxed demeanor was shattered mere seconds after she'd arrived at the baggage claim. With her Sensha-Do senses dulled from years of indulgence in the UK, she barely saw the strawberry-haired girl in the St. Gloriana tankery uniform speed across the linoleum floor and screech to a halt in front of her. They both blinked at one another, Earl Gray raising an eyebrow at the sight of the softly panting girl in front of her.
"Sumimasen, Earl-Gray sa-" the girl began, before clapping her hands abruptly over her mouth and instead leaning in to whisper in her ear.
"What engine powers the Cromwell?" Earl Gray couldn't help but roll her eyes at the simplicity of the security question.
"The Rolls-Royce Meteor." She replied with a scoff, whereupon the other girl leaped backwards in glee, a huge smile across her face.
"It really IS you, Earl-Gray sama!" She beamed. Earl Gray couldn't help but let the slightest edge of a smile creep onto her face; the pink-haired girl's enthusiasm was just that contagious. Darjeeling had mentioned her before in their communications; what was her name? Ah, yes! Rosehip.
"Now, um, shall we get going? Darjeeling-sama is eagerly waiting for you…." Rosehip trailed off, vibrating slightly as the baggage claim's belt slowly clicked by, eerily reminiscent of the noise tank tracks made.
"Not yet, Rosehip. My bag isn't here yet." The younger girl seemed to deflate slightly at that comment, but then a jet black briefcase trundled around the corner. With one quick motion of her head to Rosehip, the younger girl sped towards the case, retrieved it with the speed of a striking cobra and then they were off, briskly strolling out of the bustling arrivals hall and into the outside world.
A silver Range Rover purred quietly at the curbside, Assam at the wheel. Rosehip opened the door for Earl Gray before throwing her bags a bit roughly into the trunk, slamming the hatch shut hard, causing the air pressure inside to rise sharply, painfully puffing their eardrums. Upon getting in, she saw the looks of discomfort on the older girls' faces and bowed her head shamefully.
Earl Gray met Assam's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Assam, it's been a while, hasn't it? How's your intelligence agency doing?"
"Very well, ma'am. It's good to see you back, everyone at GI6 has eagerly awaited your return." The Range Rover pulled onto the highway, engine throbbing pleasantly away.
"Oh, have you heard; the JSDF's vote on expanding Sensha-Do vehicle use is today?" Assam added casually, not taking her eyes off the road.
Earl Gray couldn't resist chuckling at that.
"Why, of course, my dear. That's exactly why I'm here."
JSDF Headquarters, Tokyo
TV cameras hummed quietly to themselves, their emotionless electronic eyes staring blankly down at a long polished mahogany table occupied by male executives and one female at each end. At one end, dressed in her signature black suit, was Shiho Nishizumi, headmistress of Kuromorimine, leader of the Nishizumi style of high school Sensha-Do. At the other end of the table, dressed in a simple white dress, was Chiyo Shimada, leader of the Shimada style of University Sensha-Do. They stared each other down across the length of the table. Papers and cups of water were littered across the wooden surface. An adjudicator presently stood up.
"The final arguments will now be heard from each side on JSDF-2014 Article II, the expansion of legal vehicles used in Sensha-Do to include ones from the Cold-War era up until the year 1958. After closing arguments are heard, the council will vote. Miss Shimada, you may begin."
Chiyo Shimada stood up and cleared her throat. The cameras locked focus on her face.
"The benefits of including Cold-War era vehicles in Sensha-do are numerous and cannot be ignored. For years, decades, even, matches are fought with the same vehicles over and over again. There is no variety in the vehicle selection on teams. In addition, the monetary cost of purchasing and maintaining WWII era tanks continues to rise year-over-year due to the scarcity of available parts and the rarity of the tanks themselves. The huge reserve stocks of Cold War vehicles allow them to be purchased cheaply, and the countries who once wondered how their tanks would fare if the Cold War got hot can now see such a spectacle on our stage for the world to see. The decision is clear. We must vote yes. Thank you for your time." She sat down slowly.
"Miss Nishizumi, you may now begin."
Shiho NIshizumi stood up, a glint of fire in her eyes. The battery of cameras traversed slowly around and focused their mechanical gazes on her.
"Sensha-Do is an irremovable part of me and my life. It's a tradition that is ingrained in the fabric of our culture as deeply as a tattoo. I grew up with this Sensha-Do. I raised my daughters according to its principles. A whole series of generations is passionate about this Sensha-Do. I refuse to allow this committee to destroy my legacy and tarnish the soul of our country by
bringing newer vehicles into the fight. I will fight this decision until my last breath." She slammed a fist onto the table. Some of the men jumped as the water glasses trembled. The note takers were scribbling away at a furious pace. Slowly, Shiho sat down as well, taking a deep breath.
"Okay, everyone. The time to vote is now. Please take the provided tablets and cast your vote. Your vote is anonymous, do not worry about being targeted or singled out."
Fifteen tablets went out around the table. The results slowly tallied up on the electronic screen in the conference hall. When it was all said and done, the their jaws dropped in shock.
