Chapter 2: Her First Week - Or, in other words, all she wanted was a break.

In Kikuyo's mind, it was entirely, undoubtedly messed up, and she still didn't really know what to think about the whole setup.

The thought occurred to her during that first day of tankery, when the plants were still fresh and the sun beat mercilessly down on her skin. She was plagued with the misconception that tankery would make her a better person. Tankery will transform you into a leader the promotional video instilled in her brain. Tankery will transform you into a strong, independent woman it told her. She was enchanted and put under a spell in which the only antidote was the cruel slap-in-the-face of reality.

However, she couldn't really blame herself for this mistake. The mere idea of driving and shooting tanks for sport was enough to grab her interest, and with the other options being the likes of calligraphy and incense, there really was no other choice. The first few minutes were as normal and pleasant as they would ever get, and her satisfied conscience was occupied with the thoughts of blissful ignorance and naivety. What new things would she learn? What new experiences would she enjoy? The restless butterflies in her stomach danced and twirled as she tip-toed toward the assembly area. She remembered seeing a lot of new faces and saying "hi" to some whom she was on speaking terms with (as far and few in between as they were). She remembered actually enjoying that little moment of peace, and most unimportantly of all, she remembered thinking that this club would be worthwhile; she was not ready for her expectations to be betrayed so violently and so abruptly in the manner that they were.

Tankery will transform you into a leader the promotional video instilled in her brain.

Tankery will transform you into a strong, independent woman it told her.

Kikuyo scoffed. Yeah, right! She and the others were thrown at the controls of real, actual tanks after a mere 15 minutes of orientation and found themselves right in the middle of combat. The bullets blinded her eyes as they whizzed past her line-of-sight and into the ground behind her. The barrage of explosions and cannon fire pierced through her headset and assaulted her ears, and the constant rattling of her seat shook her head as if to knock all sense out of her already numbing brain. It took every inch of her resolve to remain calm and guide her teammates to victory, but she would rather scrape her nails against a blackboard than not do anything and watch those idiots drive themselves into a river or something.

Even though the rookie team already had 2 confirmed kills by the end of the match—a feat that impressed many of the more experienced crews—Kikuyo started to have her doubts about tankery and its reputation for somehow improving people's lives. It was pointless, tiring, and messy, and she didn't want to command that silly band of girls any more than she had to.

Yet, to her horror, she found herself itching to do it all again the next day.

She was seriously considering counselling by the end of the first week. The constant cycle between desiring some action in her life and wishing for tankery class to be over was wreaking havoc on her ability to sleep, and her usually impeccable punctuality was ruined by the mess she unwittingly put herself in. It wasn't any consolation that she also started falling behind on homework, an almost certain death trap in such a cutthroat environment like Black Forest Peak.

In other words, all she wanted was a break, or maybe an ear for her to vent all her feels to, but the opportunity just didn't present itself. She hadn't grown close to any of her teammates even though they themselves were getting along pretty well, and she didn't want to talk to anybody she didn't know about things personal to her. Instructor Nishizumi was most certainly out of the question; Kikuyo could imagine that woman having every quality in the world except the ability to love. The captain didn't have the decency to even train the newcomers how to operate real, actual tanks and instead left them to fend for themselves, so it wouldn't be right to go to that fool for advice. She considered her upperclassmen, or even the other first-years in Rookie Team B, but she figured they would have no idea what she was talking nor would even care and would give her some dumb answer like, "you should get over it."

She certainly didn't feel like a strong, independent woman or a leader. She didn't even know what she wanted.

That's where Kikuyo stood at the moment. She was stranded on a ship somewhere off in the Pacific Ocean, forced to do a sport she wanted to hate but loved instead and wanted to love but hated instead. It was mind boggling.

Well, she had that, and a small note she found in her shoe locker that morning.

She slipped a slow hand into her blazer pocket and pulled it out.

Please meet me at the plaza at five o'clock. See ya there! *Smiley face*

Kikuyo questioned the point of writing "smiley face" when actually drawing the thing would have been more efficient, but she didn't think too hard about it. Who would want to talk to her? She didn't know. Surely it wasn't a love interest. She was a scrawny fifteen-year-old kid with sharp eyes and thoughts too blunt for her own good, hidden away under an impenetrable blanket of politeness. She didn't make a lot of friends in her early years of school because everyone thought she was boring and she thought everyone was stupid for thinking she was boring (up until she was 13 and finally realized that she did seem, indeed, insufferably boring), and now was not the time to be making friends. She was dealing with a problem that didn't concern anybody but herself, and the worst part was, it had a seemingly simple answer.

Of course, she did consider quitting the team. It would be easy. If one misses a class, one is relieved of the elective. The strict nature of the instructor gave Kikuyo a way out if need be. However, was leaving tankery the best idea? She didn't really get anything out of it personally, but it was a great way to kill time and was a source of free credits and benefits. And even though she didn't want to admit it, the pervasive feeling of enthusiasm the others radiated got her pumped pretty easily. That is, until 10 minutes into practice when the realization that she didn't want to be there hit her like an 88mm shell.

Kikuyo sighed and put the note back in her pocket. The note said 5 o'clock but it was already 5:10 and the sender of the note wasn't there yet.

And then footsteps.

She spun around and saw Akane looking up at her. Kikuyo had never really looked at her classmate before, and she was surprised how different of an impression this almost close-up view gave her compared to the cutesy little thing she thought Akane was up until now. Her complexion was unbelievably pale, and her dark, grey eyes were underlined by even darker shadows under them, as if putting all-nighters was a common thing for her. Kikuyo herself wasn't all that tall, but Akane was easily a head shorter than she was, and all that black, free-flowing hair that topped Akane's head and snaked down to the small of her back looked incredibly heavy compared to the frail body that barely filled her uniform. Kikuyo wondered if it was even legal for this girl to be participating in such a high-stress sport like tankery.

"Hi, Kikuyo," Akane said finally. "I'm, I'm sorry I'm late." Kikuyo had a suspicion that she had to really push that one out.

"It's, alright, Akane," Kikuyo said. Actually, she was a little irritated by Akane's tardiness, but she'd said "it's fine" so many times in her life that what she thought about trivial things like this didn't matter anymore. "So, you were the one who sent me this?" She held out the note, and Akane nodded without even acknowledging it was there.

"I…I wanted to talk you," Akane said.

"Oh, yeah, that—"

"About you," Akane hastily added.

"Oh," Kikuyo said, awkward now about the conversation topic and the sight of Akane shifting in her spot, her eyes flitting from object to object. "Well, yeah, that's fine. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Um…" Akane paused, then held out a two coupons. "Ice cream first?"

The shop was a cozy place with brick walls and a ceiling made out of large wooden planks that reminded Kikuyo of an old-fashioned summer cottage. The line wasn't too long, and after Akane bought the ice cream and two drinks (she also paid for a flattered Kikuyo) they found two seats overlooking the street and took some bites out of their desserts.

"So, uh, how are you doing?"

That was surprising. Kikuyo wasn't prepared for this quiet girl to directly ask her about her feelings, and she couldn't help but feel selfishly happy that someone was thinking about her at all. However, that question was easier said than answered.

"I'm doing alright," Kikuyo said. All lies. "How are you doing?"

"I'm getting by alright," Akane replied. Kikuyo glanced at her. If that's your standard for 'getting by alright', you really need to rethink your life choices Kikuyo thought.

The conversation died off, which made sense to Kikuyo because a question like that is very closed-ended, and she didn't want to exert the effort to continue a conversation she didn't even ask for.

"The homework here is pretty tough, isn't it?" Akane asked, trying again. Oh my goodness Kikuyo thought. You couldn't have picked a worse question for me if you tried.

"Yeah, it kinda is," Kikuyo replied with a hearty chuckle just for good measure.

"I wish school started at a later time," Akane said. "It's hard to be on time." At least you're on time! Kikuyo thought. Are you trying to drive me crazy?

"Yeah, it should," Kikuyo replied.

"What do you think of this ice cream?" Akane asked. That's not even following the converation! Kikuyo thought, tapping her feet trying her hardest not to laugh.

"It's delicious!" Kikuyo said.

Not knowing what to say, Akane fell silent once more. Gee, Akane, you're kinda bad at this conversation thing. Kikuyo was close to tears. You probably need to read up on how to talk to people.

Then Akane pulled out a book and started flipping through it.

Kikuyo almost died.

A short back-and-forth between them revealed that Akane had planned all of that; it all one big joke.

"W-wow, that was, uh, that was something indeed," Kikuyo commented as they exited the shop. "Do you make jokes like that all the time?"

"A little," Akane answered. That's really strange Kikuyo thought.

But I like that.

The walk home was mostly spent in silence, letting Kikuyo's mind wander. It was confirmed that Akane wanted that whole conversation just to make Kikuyo laugh, and while she appreciated that, Akane's I-wanted-to-talk-to-you-about-you line stuck in her mind. When they got to the apartment building, Akane tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hey, Kikuyo?"

"Yes?"

"…please don't quit tankery."

Author's Note:

The whole idea I had for Kikuyo when I started this fic two years ago was for her to be a shy, reserved girl who would find her identity through tankery. However, I couldn't wring out any good scenes of her, mostly because I didn't really fleshed out her character well enough in my mind. When I would try to write something I would always draw a blank; I just couldn't figure out how she would react to certain situations or what her opinions would be about things.

And then I came up with the idea of Kikuyo being a real jerk at heart and a polite, reserved person as a facade or force of habit. I really liked this idea, and I imagine I can develop her character a lot more with this. I can clearly imagine her opinions about and reactions to things now after all that time thinking about it, and I think I'm ready to get back into a continuous upload cycle for this story.

I've decided to limit myself to around 2000 words per chapter so I don't get overwhelmed, and I won't have a guaranteed upload schedule. My personal life is already pretty tough, and I don't want to let you down by promising something I can't keep.

Thanks for reading, and panzer vor ladies and gentlemen!