Shiho 2: Something To Prove

Present day

Shiho's account of her childhood transitioned to the part in which she discussed her results, which she believed were her reward for everything she had gone through as a young child, and her justification for putting her children through the same experience.

"Before I begin discussing my middle school years, I would like to share an insight I've had about my and your families, Instructor Atago," Shiho said. "Upon further consideration, I believe our parents differed less in their goals than their methods."

"How so?" Masae said.

"Your parents and mine were the same in the concept of preparing us to become independent of them," Shiho said. "The main difference was in the standards to which they held us."

The Atagos glanced at each other, unable to dispute Shiho's point.

"I understand," Masae said. "That's the basic goal of parenting. The advent of the school ships is meant to help children become independent, and it makes it all the more important for parents to ensure that their children do become independent"

"Of course, tankery wasn't the only thing my parents taught me," Shiho said. "My parents expected me to learn everything else children learn at that age, from academics to chores to other life skills- and better than most children my age, at that. As such, I was more than ready to live on my own at middle school."

28 years ago

Shiho looked over her apartment at middle school, as her family finished unpacking her things. The process of moving was too great for her to do herself, so her mother had decided to help her do it, even if she also expected Shiho to do her part in the process, partly to pull her own weight, partly because it was for her room, and partly on principle.

Unpacking did not take long, since Shiho had only brought necessities to her dorm room, which she viewed as a place where she could study and sleep, not to be used for any frivolities.

As the unpacking finished, Shiho's mother told her what she expected of her. Shiho listened attentively, but years later, could not remember what she had said in its entirety, and was unsure of what she had told her then that she had not already. But in the end, it was all just another reminder of what Shiho knew already, and telling her what she intended to do herself.

SHotaru, having finished her speech, started toward the door to head back home.

"I will talk with you later, Shiho," Hotaru said. "Remember that I expect great things from you, and make our family and the Nishizumi School proud."

"Yes, Mother," Shiho said. "I promise that the news I give to you will be good."

With a nod, Hotaru left her daughter's dorm room to go home, and Shiho felt like a soldier being sent on a mission. She would be far from those who gave her orders, and forced to make decisions on her own, but she was expected to succeed. They believed she could take care of herself well enough, and as such, were more concerned about whether she could accomplish her mission than whether she could survive, so to speak. All this did seem intimidating when she thought of it that way.

But she had succeeded in her past "missions," and had prepared for her current one. And having gone through harsh training, the reality was nothing she had not prepared for. Could other people, whom Shiho saw as playing at being soldiers, say the same?

Shiho resolved that for the next three years, and all the years to come, she would show her mother and her classmates that her childhood was not wasted, and she was better prepared than anyone else. She had prior training and something to prove, which would be the key to her success.

Present day

"Some have said that the Nishizumi School essentially forces its subordinates and children to become mindless automatons, acting only on the instructions of their leaders and parents, respectively," Shiho said. "But while they are expected to follow orders, it's simply not true to say that they do not think for themselves."

"How so?" Masae said skeptically, knowing that when Black Forest's leadership was unable to respond to an unexpected development, it was the best opportunity their opponents could hope for to seize the advantage."

"Those under one's command must possess a certain level of autonomy, and be able to make their own decisions while upholding the Nishizumi School's honor and advancing their superiors' objectives, even when they're not told precisely what to do," Shiho said. "For example, a tank on an independent scouting action should know what to do if they encounter the enemy. However, those who give such people commands should stay in contact with them, so they know what they're doing."

"To put it simply..." Shiho said, "when I entered Bismarck Middle School, I was expected to make decisions on my own, for the Nishizumi School's honor. Of course, I knew well enough what I should do, and the first step was to seek out and apply for the tankery team."

28 years ago.

Shiho stood in line as a member of the Bismarck Middle School's tankery team processed the applications.

Shiho, from her position midway through the line, faintly overheard a few of the girls in front of her cheerfully and shamelessly admit to having no prior tankery experience, albeit not in those exact words, as they excitedly talked about getting started in it. If they had done nothing to prepare themselves, why were they getting involved in tankery? Did they not realize that their actions impacted their middle school's chances of success, and its prestige? Or were they simply content to do tankery without representing the school in the tournament? Neither seemed to be traits that a good Nishizumi would have.

Looking around at all of those people, Shiho wondered if those who had derided her studying tankery in elementary were there now, and if they could still say that she had wasted her time. Did that girl who invited her to play soccer with her have any chance of getting onto her team, or was she merely wasting her time?

Shiho was certain that her childhood had been spent well. She had spent her time preparing, and now the time had come to show everyone the results of her training.

The only question was whether she could rely on the rest of her team. Shiho realized that she could not succeed in tankery alone, but had hoped for teammates with her level of resolve.

But Shiho believed her mother had prepared her for this, and knew that the Nishizumis had to succeed, no matter what disadvantages they were burdened with. It was up to her to not only lead, but set an example to her troops, and show all opponents why the Nishizumi style was the best.

Present day

"Perhaps my first impression of those recruits overestimated how many were unaware of what they were getting into, but my main belief still stood," Shiho said. "Few of them had any prior experience, or the Nishizumis' drive for victory. If they applied to the Nishizumi School with that level of resolve, they would have been turned away."

"Would they even have wanted to go there?" Hiroe said. "Most people who aren't die-hard tankers would get scared off once they realized what they were getting into."

"Yes, that's a good question, Hiroe," Masae said. "Our family's school is meant to attract dedicated individuals who would fall short of the Nishizumi School's expectations."

"Both of you are correct," Shiho said. "But unfortunately, while in middle school, I could not simply turn away those newcomers who were naive and underestimated the difficulty of what they were getting into, even if I did have the authority."

"Ah, yes, you weren't commander in your first year," Masae said.

Shiho nodded.

"Unlike Maho, I did not earn the rank of commander in my first year, but I was able to earn the rank of vice-captain," Shiho said. "However, even that was apparently somewhat controversial, as I had been chosen over some of my senpais."

28 years ago

Shiho sat in the commander's office, having been called in to discuss her application.

The commander, Aizawa Kazuko, a third-year, had a grim expression on her face. Shiho could tell from the beginning that she had not passed with flying colors, but at the same time, realized it would not be a standard rejection speech.

"As usual, choosing vice-captain was a difficult decision," Kazuko said. "We received many applications from well-qualified individuals, and called in the ones who seemed most promising for an interview. I was happy that so many individuals had an honest interest in helping me lead the team, and disappointed that I would have to say no to so many of them. I hope you understand, Nishizumi-san."

Shiho nodded, but inwardly disapproved of Kazuko's sentiments. Her candor was refreshing, but would she always be this hesitant or conflicted about difficult decisions?

But even if Shiho found Kazuko's attitude unsuited for a leader, she was still her commander, and she had to abide by her decisions.

"I do, Commander," Shiho said. "I understand that you have many difficult choices as commander."

"That's good," the Kazuko said, "because you'll be helping me make some of them as my vice-captain. You may be a first-year, but you have the experience and the disposition that are best suited to be a commander."

"Thank you, ma'am," Shiho said, graciously.

"But I will be honest with you, Nishizumi-san," Kazuko said. "There are those out there who are not happy about the idea of a first-year taking the position of Vice-Captain for the team, despite, or rather, because of the Nishizumi school. I decided to give you a chance, not because of your name, but because you showed great potential, much more than the other applicants."

Shiho wondered why Kazuko was mentioning other people at this moment. Did Kazuko put so much stock in other people gossiping and spreading rumors? Or was this, in fact, Kazuko's own opinion, and she wanted to hide it from Shiho? Shiho believed that if either of those true- albeit while considering that something else might be true- then Kazuko hardly seemed to have the resolve necessary to be a commander.

But Shiho was not there to put down Kazuko's qualifications, but to defend her own. Regardless of whether Kazuko was the one who was convinced Shiho might not be experienced enough, or whether Kazuko was suited to make that judgment, Kazuko was the one Shiho needed to convince.

"Perhaps they're looking at it from the wrong angle, Commander," Shiho said. "The fact that a first-year can earn the position should be seen as proof that others can, through appropriate talent and diligence, achieve what I have. Not everyone will achieve this, but they owe it to themselves and their team to try as hard as they can and push themselves as far as possible."

Kazuko hesitantly nodded.

"You may be right, Nishizumi-san," she said. "I'm not so arrogant as to believe that it is impossible for others to equal or surpass my achievements. But in any case, results matter most of all, and I'm expecting great things from you."

Shiho stood up and saluted. What Kazuko was saying after all, was the most important part. They agreed on this much, so perhaps Kazuko would understand her.

"I won't let you down, ma'am," Shiho said.

Present day

The Atagos at the table were surprised to hear about the arrogant and willful Shiho acting so subserviently toward anyone else, even an authority figure. Perhaps this was proof of how much Shiho needed to prove herself, as she usually tended to let her and her school's reputations speak for themselves, and could more easily dictate the terms in which she interacted with others. Perhaps weakening her position would induce a great deal of humility in Shiho.

"As you can probably tell, I was under a fair amount of pressure to succeed," Shiho said, "not only because of my mother's expectations, but also out of a desire to prove myself to my teammates and show that they were wrong to doubt me because of my lack of seniority."

"To be honest, it's not entirely unreasonable that they would feel that way, Instructor Nishizumi," Masae said. "People are naturally suspicious of an outsider who arrives to take charge and/or change the natural order of things, regardless of what their reasons for doing so are. Sometimes it's because such individuals are unknown quantities, sometimes it's because of their having the audacity to dictate changes, and sometimes it's because of the nature of the proposed changes. Imagine if, for example, someone enrolled in the Nishizumi School with the express goal of changing it one day."

Shiho reluctantly nodded. While she believed her critics and skeptics were wrong, she realized that her senpais shared the same goal as she did, if not the same drive for it.

"I suppose you're speaking from personal experience, Instructor Atago, but I suspect that part comes later on," Shiho said, "possibly from when you went to Pravda."

"It does," Masae said. "I will tell you of how I dealt with my problems, then, but I would like to hear about your solution first."

Shiho nodded.

"It's more or less the same solution I had for solidifying my position at Black Forest, and anywhere else," Shiho said. "I had to prove I was better than everyone else, and thus more deserving of the position."

28 years ago

The first round of the tournament had ended. Bismarck Middle School had faced Stars and Stripes, its American-themed rival and one of the stronger schools in the middle school level, and had triumphed, just as they had expected, and just as Shiho had been expected to do. Shiho, together with Kazuko, reviewed the results.

Shiho looked over all the tanks that had been lost, and noticed that two of them were headed by her rivals for the position of Vice-Captain, both of whom were third-years.

"What are your thoughts, Vice-Captain?" Kazuko said.

"Our team did relatively well, Commander, but we do have weak links," Shiho said. "To be honest, a few of our regulars are not performing at a level appropriate for those who would represent our school in the tournament."

"I have noticed it as well, Vice-Captain," Kazuko said. "But we are winning at the moment."

"It's because we are doing things better than our opponents," Shiho said. "And if we want to continue to win, we cannot coddle our team members or view spots on the regular team as for those who do not give their all to support the team. To use an analogy, if you find out a door to your stable isn't locked, you lock it immediately, rather than waiting for a horse to escape through it."

Kazuko nodded.

"See me in my office later," Kazuko said, "I'd like to meet with you and the coach to discuss these points more in-depth."

"Thank you, ma'am," Shiho said.

Shiho was not one to shy away from sacrificing tanks in battle, but wanted there to be some meaning in their sacrifices. If they had to lose tanks, those tanks should go down fighting, and take some of their enemies with them. To Shiho, being taken out without accomplishing anything for the team was shameful, almost treasonous in how it undermined the goal of the group.

Shiho concluded that tankery was, in the simplest possible term, a matter of doing a job. And if a given person could not do her job, Shiho believed the solution was to find someone who could.

Present day

"In the weeks and months to come, there were apparently fewer complaints about my being vice-captain," Shiho said. "It could be because I disproved my critics, or because they realized they did not have a leg to stand on to criticize me."

"I do have a question, though, Instructor Nishizumi," Kinue said. "You often seemed… critical… of your commander and your teammates. But even if they seemed less committed than you, didn't their efforts help you achieve your goal?"

Hiroe nodded, recalling how Kinue, back when she was a goalkeeper for her elementary school soccer team, played a crucial role for her team's defense, but realized that for offense, her teammates would be the ones who would end up scoring points. She also recalled how Maho had once told her that the efforts of her teammates helped her to live up to her mother's standards and she was grateful to them for that, even if they did not care for Miho in the same way she did. Her mother had first started the honorary graduate system as a way for students to help honor their teammates who worked well with them, as a way of emphasizing the cooperative nature of tankery.

"That's a good question, Kinue," Hiroe thought, "even if 'critical' it is putting it delicately."

Shiho paused to consider it a moment.

"They did, and in doing so, they did what I expected of them," Shiho said flatly. "Just as they would have turned on me if I had failed to prove myself suited to the job, I would have taken steps to deal with anyone who did not give their all or achieve sufficient results in tankery, up to and including removing them from the team."

Kinue sighed, feeling as though Shiho was speaking to her, while Hiroe frowned, disappointed that her sister's question had failed to trip up Shiho. Hiroko's expression remained unchanged, though, having anticipated this reaction, although she was inwardly less than happy to hear it.

Masae glanced at her daughters and niece with a sympathetic expression.

"I know how you feel, girls," Masae thought. "But I honestly had no expectation of being able to shake about four decades worth of indoctrination."

But Masae had thought of something to ask Shiho.

"So, while at Bismarck, did you ultimately have to do it?" Masae said.

"I did," Shiho said. "I had to clear all my dismissals with the commander, but for the most part, she approved, as long as I stayed to the guidelines and followed procedure."

28 years ago

Shiho and Kazuko, sat at their desk, meeting with Miyoshi Chizuru, a third-year and one of Shiho's rivals for the position of vice-captain. Shiho had heard second-hand that Chizuru had apparently proposed a style that was more laid-back than Shiho's or the current commander, concerned that the current atmosphere hurt morale and encouraged rivalries between team members without doing anything to help the team's performance.

Shiho could not help but crack a smirk when she thought about the latter belief, as she reviewed Chizuru's performance. In the first two rounds of the tournament, Chizuru had failed to survive until the end of the game, and had notably fewer "kills" than the other crews did.

"You wanted to see me, Commander, Vice-captain? Chizuru said.

"We do," Kazuko said. "We have noticed various deficiencies in your performance lately. Vice-captain, please elaborate."

Shiho nodded, and began to list Chizuru's various failures and mistakes, which Chizuru was unable to deny and could not easily dispute. Shiho found using concrete standards and quantifiable data was a good way of forming conclusions that were solid.

Finally, Shiho got to the point.

"...and as such, we have decided to drop you from the regular team," Shiho said.

Chizuru's eyes involuntarily locked into a glare, her face twisting and contorting as she forced herself to remain silent. Shiho recalled how Chizuru wondered if she was truly ready to be vice-captain, and suspected that part of Chizuru now found it utterly humiliating that her younger rival had not only taken the vice-captain position she desired, but was now judging her and stripping her of the position she had before. Chizuru appeared to be doing all she could to suppress her negative emotions and take this development with grace.

But Shiho did not give points for merely trying; to her, it hardly mattered if a shell landed way off target or just short of the target, if it failed to hit the enemy. Chizuru's barely concealed anger was a clear sign that she did not only lack the skill and diligence to be a good Nishizumi, but also lacked the control over her emotions.

As Chizuru walked away, a hand on her face to hide her tears, Shiho felt very little. She had long since become used to people hating her for various reasons- for being more successful than they were, for her ruthless drive for perfection and due to her lack of tolerance for those who were not strong enough- and believed Chizuru represented all three. But as long as Shiho was succeeding, fulfilling her duties to her family and her school, the opinions of such individuals did not matter to her.

Kazuko let out a sigh.

"Is something the matter, Commander?" Shiho said.

"It's always hard when I have to do this," Kazuko said. "Perhaps you were right, but it hardly seems like a desirable outcome."

Shiho simply shook her head.

"If you know that it is right, Commander, don't hesitate or turn away from your decisions," Shiho said. "Doing what you must, when you must is necessary to win, and it's the difference between you and that girl."

Kazuko reluctantly nodded. Perhaps she would never fully agree with Shiho, but as long as she could do what was necessary, Shiho would be content, for her doing so would enable Shiho to uphold her own duties.

Present day

Hiroe furrowed her brow, wondering what, if any justification Shiho had for her decision. She had to make many difficult decisions during her time at Pravda, but she gave more thought to changes in the lineup than Shiho did.

"You know, I can't help but shake this feeling..." Hiroe said. "Might it be possible that this woma... Instructor Nishizumi made up an excuse to kick Miyoshi Chizuru off the team? Some of my scouts or bait for the trap tend to get taken out even more easily than that, but their sacrifices are beneficial for the team as a whole."

Shiho remained silent.

"Having looked at the same data for our three years of high school, and having advised you on such decisions, I agree, Hiroe," Hiroko said. "The problem, however, is that Instructor Nishizumi has given little to conclusively support this, and she would likely not admit to it even if it was true. You're not wrong to ask that question, but you can't reasonably expect an honest answer."

"My motives are ultimately beside the point," Shiho said. "When making adjustments to the team roster, it all boils down to one question- can this individual do what is necessary to win? For her, the answer was no."

"I get what you're saying," Hiroe said, a hint of reluctance in her voice as she conceded that she could not argue with Shiho's point. "I just think that was kind of flimsy evidence for that decision."

"Her philosophy of leadership was entirely unsuited to the team," Shiho said. "And as time passed, I realized that this was because she was second-rate by nature. In any case, what any of you would have done is beside the point."

Masae simply nodded, realizing that this current line of questioning was getting her nowhere, since Shiho was free to repeat her ideology.

"Does the expression 'lonely at the top' come to mind, Instructor Nishizumi?" Masae said. "I imagine that there are few who possess commitment that is equal to or greater than yours. And if you remain aloof from and cannot emphasize with those who are below you, you run the risk of ending up isolated."

"Perhaps," Shiho said. "There are few people with anywhere near my level of commitment. But surely, in spite of your differences from me in terms of ideology and personality, you're not much different in that regard, Instructor Atago?"

"I am?" Masae said incredulously. Shiho nodded.

"As a commander, and as a teacher, you are in a position of authority above others, and must remain dispassionate while making decisions about them," Shiho said. "You may not be prepared to go as far as Nishizumis do, but you are significantly more ambitious than most of your contemporaries, especially in not just heading, but founding a school."

Masae sighed.

"You're right, Instructor Nishizumi," she said. "On duty I am cognizant of how I am a leader and those under my command are subordinates. When I give an order, I expect it to be followed. I suppose this may mean little to you, but I take it seriously."

Hiroe nodded.

"So what do you do when certain people don't meet your expectations, much less my school's?" Shiho said. "Surely you have encountered people without the talent or the commitment even you require?"

Masae ignored the condescending edge in Shiho's voice, knowing that the question behind it was one that she had to deal with more often than she had liked.

"That's a good question," Masae said, "and it ties into the very reason why I came to Black Forest in the first place."

Author's Notes

Interestingly enough, we've never seen Shiho interact with someone who has more authority than she does in canon, and haven't even seen that much in fan fiction. As such, I imagine that Shiho would be outwardly respectful toward them, having been taught to respect authority figures, but would likely disagree with some of their decisions, albeit keeping those sentiments to herself until she could reasonably make them.

Of course, she also has her disagreements with her superiors even if she owes them her respect, and she feels duty-bound to uphold the Nishizumi Style, even if her superiors and subordinates disagree. For the former, her solution is to impress them and convince them that she is of use to them, and her style is the best way. And when the latter disagree with her and do not prove themselves useful, Shiho deals with them most harshly.