Masae 1: Training Wheels
Present day
Masae paused to consider how to tell her story, but had known all along that she would be asked to share her story. Telling it came naturally, as she had shared it with her friends, with her students, with the press, and those who had read her book, and believed that if she wanted Shiho to share her own experiences, she should respond in kind. So she started by going back to a question Shiho had posed.
"As I said earlier, I was not expected to grow up according to a pre-determined role," Masae said. "My parents were relatively flexible about what path we chose, and their only expectation was that we would become capable and mature enough to follow it through to the end."
"That sounds rather hands-off," Shiho said. "It seems less than responsible to leave so much of a child's development to blind faith. My mother did not dictate everything to me, but at the same time, she told me what I needed to do in order to succeed, and expected great things from me."
"I think of it differently," Masae said,."When the time came for middle school, they trusted me to make my own decisions. And they were somewhat strict, at least compared to most parents. They expected us to do well in school so that we would have more options later in life. And if we got involved in an extracurricular activity, we were expected to take it seriously."
Masae paused, noticing that Shiho still seemed unconvinced.
"I suppose if you want an example that easily relates this principle, I could tell you about one time, when my mother was teaching me how to ride a bicycle," Masae said.
"So did mine," Shiho said, having trouble discerning the point.
"When I first started, I did so with training wheels, and my mother close at hand," Masae said. "It was expected that I would make mistakes, so my mother would help me if I did. And since I wasn't ready to handle everything just yet, she would help me with what I could not."
32 years ago
Masae, at eight years old, was pedaling a bicycle around the upper middle class suburban neighborhood she lived in, with the help of her mother, Atago Mikoto.
Her younger sister, Atago Masaki, watched from a distance. Their mother had decided that she was not yet ready to learn how to ride a bicycle. Masaki, when asked, politely said that she had accepted it, and said she would simply be able to wait until next year, learning from her sister. In most things, Masaki looked up to her older sister, and followed her example, or at the very least, drew lessons from Masae's decisions.
As she practiced pedaling, Masae heard a lecture from her mother on which streets to go on, how to cycle safely, why she should not cycle too fast- as her mother put it, if she was in a hurry, she might never reach her destination- and other related topics. Masae realized the importance of those topics, having heard a few stories of terrible accidents, but for the moment, her mother was with her, and it was impossible to deviate from the path on which she was guided, regardless of whether her new course would be safe or unsafe.
"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Masae?" Mikoto said.
"Yes, Mother," Masae said respectfully. "Of course, it all seems so far off, considering I still can't pedal alone, and am depending on you to help me at the moment."
"You depend on me for a fair amount of things that are more important than this, and for good reason," Mikoto said. "For example, you're not yet ready to do the grocery shopping or cook, much less come up with the money for food on your own. As such, there's no shame in relying on me to do those things, until you're ready."
"I understand," Masae said. "But I know even now that that it can't last forever. Is that not true?"
"It's true," Mikoto said. "But all the same, it's important for you to have a childhood, and develop at a proper rate. As I told you earlier in this lecture, if you're in too much of a hurry to reach your destination, it's entirely likely that you may never make it there."
Masae nodded as she continued to work the pedals, focusing on the task at hand. While the idea of staying balanced on her bicycle, as well as the possibility of being injured if she fell off, was an intimidating one to her, she knew that if she stayed focused on what she was learning at the moment, it would be more manageable.
On a wider scale, back then, Masae had no idea what sort of adult she would become, or if her mother had any specific goals for her. To her, tankery was something she had only vaguely heard about, and teachers were her mentors and respected authority figures, rather than a goal to which she could aspire. But one day, she would find answers of her own, and chart her own path in life.
Present day
"I learned three lessons from my mother that day," Masae said. "The first was how to ride a bicycle. The second was about childhood. The third, and more subtle one, was to take things at their own pace, and appreciate the process, rather than focus solely on the result."
Hiroe could not help but be reminded of Ceylon after hearing that. Ceylon had adopted what she believed to be the ruthless methods the Nishizumi School and Black Forest used to win their battles, but had far less success. So what did Ceylon have now? Hiroe felt a bit of pity for her, but more for those who suffered under her command.
"But what about the result?" Shiho said. "The most important question is- did your mother succeed? Do you think you are succeeding in following this path?"
Masae nodded, the answer Shiho had anticipated.
"Yes; Mother succeeded, and I believe I have, as well," Masae said. "Even as she watched over me riding, she made note of my progress, and corrected my mistakes. She also had high expectations for my sister and I, so that we would have more choices available to us in the future, as well as the attitude necessary to make the right choices. She wasn't indifferent to whether we succeeded in the future, but had a more flexible definition of what could be considered a success and how we could achieve it."
"I suppose that's to be expected, given your parents' intentions," Shiho said.
"The first time I rode my bicycle on my own around the street felt like a tremendous accomplishment, but also one that I felt completely prepared for," Masae said. "Even after I learned how to command tanks, machines that were far larger, more complex and needed more people to operate, I still look back fondly on that memory."
Shiho nodded, while also giving a skeptical look that indicated her wondering when Masae would get to the point. Masae, taking the cue, decided to transition the story to middle school."
"The time eventually came for me to leave for middle school, which meant living apart from my parents," Masae said. "I had to adjust to it, like I did with riding my bicycle without training wheels, but I felt as though I was prepared for living alone, and now it was only a matter of actually doing it."
28 years ago
Masae, with the help of her mother and the movers, finished unpacking everything she brought to her dorm room in the Troika Middle School ship. The process was a large job, one that she could not handle herself, but everything else in her middle school life was entirely up to her. Once her mother left, it would be up to Masae to go to school, keep up in her studies, and handle all other aspects of her life on a daily basis.
"That seems to be the last of your belongings," Mikoto said. "I will keep in touch with you, Masae; please call every so often. Your father and sister also miss you, so they would appreciate hearing from you as well."
"Yes, Mother," Masae said. "I will let you know if I need anything."
"I can help you if there is a problem you cannot handle on your own," Mikoto said, "but, as I said before, I also hope that you will be able to stand on your own to an extent."
Masae nodded, having some idea of what she was facing.
"You will face many decisions while at middle school," Mikoto said, "and while I am willing to help you, you will have to face some of them on your own. Like when I taught you how to ride a bicycle, much of what I have taught you over the past few years, and am still teaching your sister, involves being able to do things on your own. Thankfully, you have performed quite well so far, so I believe you will make the right decisions."
"Thank you, Mother," Masae said. "I promise, I will not let you down."
"I'm sure you'll do well, Masae," Mikoto said, before she and Masae said their goodbyes.
As the door shut behind her, Masae sat at her desk and looked around her room. Everything she needed for school and for daily life had been unpacked, just as she and her mother had gone down the checklist. Keeping the room clean would be her responsibility, but she had been tasked with cleaning her own room, and so felt prepared for a dorm room. Masae and her mother had spent weeks preparing for this, but had spent over a decade preparing her to live on her own. Masae had everything she needed for middle school, and felt ready.
"You've prepared me well, Mother," Masae thought.
Present day
"So that's how my mother raised me, and prepared me to live on my own," Masae said. "But by now, I suppose you've noticed one very important thing missing from my account."
"Tankery," the others at the table said. Hiroe, Kinue and Hiroko said it immediately, while the Nishizumis followed half a second later, having taken a moment to deduce it.
"Exactly," Masae said. "To be honest, it's not very often that people have a firm idea as to what they want to be when they grow up for as long as they remember. I was slightly surprised that Hiroe got interested in tankery from such a young age, compared to Kinue and Hiroko becoming interested while they were in middle school. Father took until high school to come up with a desired career."
"As for tankery…" Masae said, "I had heard about it in various contexts, such as a list of Troika student clubs, and gradually became interested."
"Your mother had no involvement with tankery before?" Miho said. Masae shook her head.
"My mother didn't think of tankery as a traditional pursuit," Masae said, "but she realized that my sister and I would likely take different paths from her. She was the first woman in her family who worked outside of the home, and while she suspected we might do the same, she had no expectations of us following her path- I became a tankery teacher and Masaki became a homemaker. So when I let her know about my desire to get involved in tankery, she had no objections."
"What kind of team did your middle school have?" Maho said.
"Troika's team was in its infancy back then," Masae said. "It's certainly quite different from what it is today, and was less serious and organized. At the time, however, I didn't care about such things, and saw tankery as something potentially interesting that I could do."
28 years ago
Masae stood with the rest of the new recruits in the assembly area of Troika Middle School, waiting for the introductory meeting for tankery to begin.
A woman in her forties who wore a brown suit walked up to the podium. Her hair, styled in a bun, was raven-colored, not having started to gray.
"Hello, and welcome to the Troika Middle School tankery team," the woman said. "My name is Kumakura Toshi, coach of the team. I would like to welcome you all, as well as thank you for applying."
Toshi gave a short speech about the origins and purpose of tankery, and showed the same filmstrip that Miho had seen, although it was on a film reel, rather than a DVD. After it concluded, Toshi got the attention of the schoolgirls and resumed her speech.
"As you can see, tankery has a long and storied history," Toshi said. "But it's a more recent addition to Troika, having been established in the last two years. As such, we need more people for our team, and we are grateful that you are willing to help us, and help yourselves grow into strong women."
Evidently having finished her speech, Toshi surveyed the crowd.
"Do you have any questions?" Toshi said.
Masae raised her hand. "Yes?" Toshi said, pointing to Masae.
"Coach, what are you expecting out of those who make the main team?" Masae said. "We may need tankers, but do we not need ones who are reliable ones, as well?"
Toshi paused to consider the suggestion.
"That's a good question and a good point," Toshi said."But before I get to that, I forgot to mention one thing. On a practical level, I'm not a coach, but more of a faculty member who is branching out, so to speak, and on a personal one, I think of myself as more of a teacher. So instead of 'Coach', I would prefer to be addressed as any faculty member would be. 'Sensei,' 'Kumakura-sensei,' or 'Ma'am' are all acceptable ways of addressing me."
"Yes, Kumakura-sensei," Masae said.
"As for your question," Toshi said,. "If you're thinking in practical terms, talent is always good, but how many of the newcomers have tankery experience? Please raise your hands if you do."
Only five girls raised their hands. Masae later learned that at least one of them was a transfer student and an upperclassman, but could not say for certain where the other four had learned tankery.
"Five of you?" Toshi said. "That's five more than I expected. We lost a fair amount of our team recently, as a result of their graduating so while skilled ones are always welcome, we need people. But more than experience, I'm looking for people with good character, who are dedicated, hard-working and willing to learn and challenge themselves. Such people will not only rise to the occasion, but also get the most out of tankery."
Several other girls asked about the team, asking more practical questions such as practice times.
Eventually, the assembly concluded, and the girls went their separate ways for the day, since practice would not start until the next day. Toshi, however, walked up to Masae.
"I must say, that was a very good question you asked, young lady," Toshi said. "It's not often that I hear someone who, to paraphrase the words of an American president about two decades ago, asks not what the team can do for her, but what she can do for the team."
"Thank you, Kumakura-sensei," Masae said.
"You're welcome..." Toshi began.
"Atago Masae, first-year," Masae said, and she and Toshi bowed to each other. "I'm honestly surprised that so many, like me, were new to tankery."
"Well, I wouldn't exactly have a job if you and the others already knew everything there was to know, Masae," Toshi said. "Back when I was an English teacher, before being drafted to be the school's tankery instructor, I was more concerned with how well the students could learn a new language, rather than how much they already knew."
Masae nodded. She realized that her opponents would not make any allowances for her being a novice, but was determined to do the best she could. This was an opportunity to represent her school, improve herself and have fun, so she was determined to make the most of it.
Present day
"While I do have to pick and choose who to admit to my school, I do so while remembering that I, too, was once a bright-eyed neophyte who saw tankery as interesting in spite of my lack of knowledge about it," Masae said. "And so, if I have no room for some people, I do my best to not quash their enthusiasm, and wish them the best of luck elsewhere, just like Kumakura-sensei would."
"Your coach's name sounds familiar, Instructor Atago," Miho said.
"That's because Kumakura-sensei's now Pravda's coach, Miho-chan," Kinue said. "She's been here a long time, and adjusted her teachings to her new school, and over the years, but some things haven't changed. She still values sportsmanship and believes in fair play. She also still prefers not to be called 'Coach', even though she's doing it full-time now."
Shiho pondered what had been said. Perhaps it would be unfair to judge them by the Nishizumi School standards, but she believed that one's results spoke for themselves, and any attempt at explaining them away was merely making excuses.
"To be blunt, Instructor Atago, your school back then hardly sounds like a winning team," Shiho said. "I concede that people are not born with tankery skill, but it seems less than likely that a school starting from that point would have any chance of winning."
Hiroe frowned. She disliked hearing that from Shiho, especially given how much she respected Toshi, her coach. But Hiroe knew, from her mother's stories, that Troika two decades ago was a far cry from what it became by the time she attended it, much less Pravda.
Miho shook her head. Oarai was composed almost entirely of novices, but they had come far in their limited amount of time. And yet, their success was somewhat improbable, and had been helped by the members of the team who had experience, good strategy, and a great deal of luck.
Masae glanced around, noticing that save for Maho, who seemed neutral, the others disliked, but could not contest Shiho's assertion.
"I suppose it would be from the Nishizumi School's standards," Masae said, "and it certainly was not one compared to Black Forest, or your middle school."
"That reminds me..." Shiho said, "I remember facing your school in the semi-finals in my first year of middle school."
"You did," Masae said. "You never saw me, since I was only a tank commander, albeit for the flag tank. Perhaps for you, it was just another victory, but for me, it was my first taste of defeat at a crucial moment."
28 years ago
Masae walked off the field at the tankery tournament semi-finals. Her school had just been defeated, with all the tanks picked off one by one, until Masae's flag tank was finally disabled.
Masae's commander had not blamed her, although Masae wondered if that was merely her showing good sportsmanship, something that Toshi had strongly emphasized during training. In all practice matches, the members of both sides were to bow to each other and shake hands before and after the match. A part of Masae wondered if the commander did, in fact, blame her,but considered it bad manners to openly express such a sentiment.
As Masae wandered, trying to come to terms with what had happened, she wondered what her mother would think. Her mother had taught her the value of responsibility, and of doing her part for her family, her employer and society in general. So what would she say now that Masae, in spite of all her efforts, had fallen short of her commitment to her team?
"There you are, Masae," Mikoto said, evidently having looked for her daughter for some time in the aftermath of the battle.
"Mother…" Masae said, fearing her mother's reaction. Masae had always been a good student, regarded as diligent in all her pursuits, and with enough talent to make her efforts fruitful. Now that she had let her team down, what would her mother think?
"I saw the entire match," Mikoto said. "I may not know much about tankery, but the enemy seemed strong, and you did your best against them."
"Th...this defeat was not a waste of time, Mother," Masae said, not wanting to believe that the battle was a hopeless one, even if it meant she was responsible for the loss. "In facing a stronger enemy, I feel as though I've been challenged to improve myself, in hopes of someday defeating them."
"Then that's good enough for me," Mikoto said with a warm smile. "I would even say that it's a good thing that you lost today, Masae, so that you can learn how to come back from future defeats and failures. You cannot hope for perfection, only to be the best you can be."
Masae nodded, before preparing to head back to the school ship. In the days and weeks to come, she would ask herself and the others difficult questions about where they had failed, and where they needed improvement. But the knowledge that they could learn from defeats gave them hope, and the encouragement that they needed to improve as much as they could.
Present day
"While part of Mother's reaction was due to not knowing much about tankery," Masae said, "she is also a person who believes that defeat- and failure in general- is not necessarily shameful. This attitude did not change even after she learned more about tankery over the years, as my involvement with it continued, and increased."
"Yeah," Hiroe said. "And Mom took that attitude to heart when she became a parent."
"When Hiroe lost to Maho the first time four years ago, I saw in her face the same expression I had on mine on that day," Masae said, "the same shame over her loss, feeling of letting down her teammates, and desire to improve. Defeat can be a bitter pill to swallow, but it's also a stepping stone to improve, so that you can prevail in your future struggles."
"And what if you never face defeat?" Shiho said.
"Then that's a pity," Masae said. "Putting aside the fact that it's practically impossible to have an unbroken win streak, if you always keep winning, you will start to take your victories for granted, while fearing losing."
"Perhaps, but there are some cases in which you cannot afford to lose," Shiho said. "And in those cases, it would be wiser to trust your goals to those who do not accept defeat, and are willing to go as far as it takes to win."
"I agree, Instructor Nishizumi," Masae said, "but no game of tankery, not even when the name of my school is involved, qualifies as one in which losing is absolutely unacceptable."
Shiho sighed.
"That's yet another case where you and I differ, Instructor Atago," Shiho said. "You said that if you focus on the process rather than the results, the results would take care of themselves?" Masae nodded. "You've heard about how I was raised, so now let me tell you about the results."
"So it begins," Masae thought, "the part in which Instructor Nishizumi justifies her childhood, and with it, her means of raising her daughters. It may be difficult for me to hear, but this will likely help me find some of the answers I'm seeking."
Author's Notes
Thank you for the reviews, favorites and follows.
Character Analysis: Masae
Canonically, Masae has a very minor role in Saki: Achiga-hen, but has a fairly interesting character for her screentime, coming off as strict but compassionate. She expects her students to do their best, but also comforts them after their loss. She gives no preferential treatment to her niece Hiroko, but is honestly glad to see her doing well. She had to pass over Toki for the main team for two years, but saw her potential in her third year, and visits her in the hospital when she collapses during a match. Here, her strictness will be shown somewhat more as she's a commander and a teacher, but she's a far cry from Shiho.
Masae is not a very traditional person. She has some degree of respect for tradition, but largely views rigid adherence to it as impractical at best. As her own mother did what was, for her own family, fairly unprecedented, she realizes that times change, and tends to follow her own beliefs more than tradition.
Masae is significantly more confident than Miho, and sees herself as more of a leader. On the other hand, Masae shares Miho's gratitude for those who supported her, and reluctance to forcibly convert others to her way of thinking. How well she would have done at Oarai has yet to be seen.
Here, you will see some of the influences that shaped Masae. A common trend will be her trying to avoid the mistakes of those whose approaches have, in her mind, failed, and emulating those she respects, such as her parents and her teacher. Masae has many roles- as a wife, a mother and a teacher- and seeks to play all of them to the best of her ability.