Rolling lush plains. Ridge of green hills, capped by the occasional wind turbine that moved in hypnotizing unison with the breeze. Fields of bright emerald stretched as far as the eye can see, a grand garden the fruit of time and the caring hands of mother nature. The beautiful scene whizzed past as a lone train glided by; between the distant spires that dotted the horizon behind natural terrain, the rail line snaking through the verdant plains was like a thin thread of civilization.
Around a century ago, those green fields were the same ones people once saw. Around a century ago, only windmills of brick, mortar, and wood would have occupied the skyline, not their successors of sleek steel and the sights of far-off cities whose ancient names evolved beyond their ancestors' wildest imaginations.
This was no longer the Principality of Gallia in the early 20th-century, the era of strife and uncertainty - this was the 21st, when the fires of war had forged a world free from it.
A world unlike the one it once was. But no matter the distance, some things remain the same.
The same fertile lands, the open azure sky. The world the past once called home beheld the same beauty for those who came after. The firm footing of earth no matter the passage of time, the root that anchored all of history together.
Looking through the window of her train car, a certain girl couldn't help but look upon the land of her country with fond eyes.
Like so many others, Gallia was her home; like so many others, they were on their way to a home away from home. Where all learn their potential in this peaceful world, the next great step in their lives. Where the train was taking them now.
A new beginning.
The clear blue sky remained. But below, the earth was now changed: where there was grass, there was asphalt and pavement; of open meadows there was now architecture, of artificial jungle of placid brick and concrete and nature whose arrangement was now controlled. A world ruled and defined by man and in it, sounds filled the air.
A merry breeze brought with it the echoes of chatter too many to count. Of footsteps that clapped and stepped reminiscent of marching. Above it all, an electric chime rang out in flat tones, the signal of a new day.
The air by the school entrance was always lively in the morning, when the gates were open and welcoming to all who called themselves students. And on this morning in particular, the school grounds found themselves populated by new faces. A congregation flowed in, anxious and eager to begin their first years of their high school journey.
A great multistoried edifice assumed the heart of the institute, a cinder block of blue, white, and trimmings of red - the national colors. And on the center face, protruding for all to see was a shield-like badge of dull blue home to a ring of seven white blossoms that gave the school its name, decorated on a ribbon hanging below:
Lion Paw National High School
The emblem watched from above as the tide of blue-uniformed students flowed like a stream through campus, welcoming staff and signs channeling the newcomers inside where they pooled up at the front. The school grounds, though vast and open, found itself already swelled with rows and rows of chairs consuming nearly every inch of space. Feet shuffled incessantly as students of all genders were ushered diligently in, hunting for open seats.
But eventually, the stream of new arrivals became a trickle. Soon the sounds of moving feet subsided, the air only thick with talk that even it began to quiet down. On the stage assembled a troop of staff and educators but all eyes were drawn to the lone podium that now became occupied.
The opening ceremony was about to commence.
"Welcome, young and all, and good morning to you too. As a former teacher now headmaster for over a decade, it is my pleasure to welcome you new pupils here to our school…"
As the principal, an aged man with a soft round face and graying mane, spoke the audience held rapt attention. A field of sky-blue blazers all sat in observance to the occasion; many respectful, some excited, some nervous, even a few restless and dulled by the speech.
And among them, a certain person felt she could be in all four categories.
Amelia listened to the address, upright and proper. But inside, she was anything but calm. The hands on her lap could hardly sit still, as if sitting was too restrictive for the sensations that swirled within, yearning to be unleashed. Ready to go, to let the new experience wash over her. To wait was to deprive her of that sensation, toying her expectations.
She had scarcely believed that, just hours ago, she had departed from Bruhl to attend one of the country's national schools. Only hours ago she bid her parents goodbye to begin her journey to adulthood. And now, as she found herself captive within that very school, clad in their uniform, she felt like she was in an entirely different world. On a new planet even! Or perhaps-
A cough squeaked across the room, caught by the podium microphones. The sound freed Amelia from her daydream, her eyes and ears back towards the present. The speech was already nearing its end.
"... to the dormitories, where you will stay as disciples of higher education. And with that, welcome. Welcome to one of Gallia's established and respected institutions. Welcome to your first year of high school. Welcome… to Lion Paw National High School!"
The words ended, and the world transformed into a cacophony of ovation. The dam broke and the feelings flooded forth as students sprang from their chairs, the teachers ready to escort them to their new life.
Her high school life…
Amelia found it hard to believe it had already begun.
The tranquility of the morn was shattered when the door to a dorm room burst open. A girl spilled forth, a school bag slung on her shoulder and her uniform hastily put on: sky-blue blazer, white undershirt with a maroon tie, dull red skirt, white stockings, and unusually, a bright red handkerchief around her collar.
"I'm late!" Amelia exclaimed, her breakfast of a mere single toast clutched to her mouth. After remembering to lock her door, she dashed off.
She ran down the hall, her impatient feet choosing the stairs over the elevators, and soon she was outside in record time. Emerging from the dormitories, Amelia made a beeline to the main building as fast as her feet could take her, her light-brown hair trailing behind her. She rushed past the main entrance, weaving around those inhabiting the halls much to their surprise and evading their disapproving glares.
Racing to the first-year wing, she was near her destination. Skidding to a stop (and almost slipping in the process) in front of classroom 1-G, Amelia turned to barge in.
*SLAM!*
… Only for Amelia, in a moment of haste, forgot that one had to open the door prior to entering a room. She fell hard on her rear, wincing in pain.
"Owww… My toast…"
The door to the classroom swung open and a shadow fell upon Amelia. "What the…? Hey, you all right?"
She looked up, finding herself in the presence of a giant. His blue uniform was typical for a male student, though his blazer was buttoned up so formally. Thick brown bristled hair nearly grazed the top of the doorway as eyes of a matching color gazed at her, bewildered.
A hand was swiftly offered and Amelia took it, feeling its strength but also warmth. She groaned as she clambered up, rubbing away the lingering pain on her forehead.
"Looks like you took quite the hit," the boy remarked with a mature tone. "For a second, I thought someone was trying to break in."
"Y-yeah, I guess that was me," Amelia replied with a sheepish smile. "... Oh, I'm Amelia by the way."
The tall boy returned a smile. "Frederick Potter. Come on, get in before you attract any more unwanted attention."
Amelia gladly complied, stepping inside before gingerly shutting the door behind her (and remembering to be aware of them next time she's ever in a hurry). Glancing around, she quickly made out her seat, slipping in as she did her best to ignore the silent stares and faint murmurs that surrounded her. Now finally settled in with her school bag laid to her side, Amelia let out a sigh of relief.
Her shoulder sagged. 'On the first day of all things…'
Hearing a chair scrape the floor beside her, Amelia was surprised to see Frederick seated next to her, his head resting on his hand in a bored demeanor. Following his gaze, she was taken aback to see the front of the classroom vacant, the source of any reprimand for her tardiness absent.
She leaned close to her classmate. "Um, where's our teacher?"
"I wish I knew," Frederick muttered. "It's past time and I'm bored just waiting for them. Talk about first impressions."
"Yeah, you know about first impressions," a cheeky voice joked close by. "Poor Freddie's dying here to meet our Teach."
Leaning over, Amelia made out another classmate, donned in the same uniform as she was as typical for the girls of this school. But what caught her eye were the light-blue leg-warmers in lieu of stockings, the absence of a tie, and more importantly the girl's fiery hair, its seeming excitement barely contained by a single short ponytail that only caused her hair to blossom like a volcano.
Whoever she was, a mischievous grin was wide on her mouth as she prodded Frederick with her finger in jest.
The boy rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Abigail."
The poking finger instantly turned into a nudging fist. "Hey! Don't call me that."
Amelia stared at the red-head with curiosity. "Um, do you two know each other?"
"Unfortunately," Frederick muttered dryly. "'Abbie' and I had the misfortune of being from the same neighborhood."
"That's his way of saying we've been friends since we were kids," Abbie corrected. Her amber eyes sighted over towards Amelia but as sharp as they were and as spirited as she looked, they shone with passionate camaraderie. "I'm Abbie Stark by the way!"
"Amelia," the brunette returned. Abbie's eyes then darted downward.
"Nice bandana. Really sticks out and gives you character. Like it."
"Thank you," Amelia replied cheerfully. "It means a lot to me!"
Further talk was cut short when the door slammed open. Instantly all heads whirled over to see a young adult woman in a white-yellow dress tumble in. She made her way to the front of the class, breathless and panting to the teacher's desk. Her expression seemed to tell a rather harrowing story. Looking her over, Amelia couldn't tell if the woman's gray-brown hair was simply unprepared or if the tips were naturally curved as they were. But what caught her eye was the single white flower clipped on to the side, shining brightly at full bloom.
"S… So sorry for being late," the woman apologized as her breath slowly returned, her gray eyes weary. "Yesterday's ceremony was… such a big day… I stayed up all night… Found out my alarm clock was out of batteries."
'Someone had a worse morning than me…?' Amelia thought with worry.
Finally, with her last deep breath, the woman stood straight. Brushing her hair back, her return to composure was complete. "Well, without further ado…"
The iconic sounds of scratches were heard as chalk scraped the board in brisk strokes. A message quickly formed, a name that the adult repeated as she turned back to face her audience.
"I'm Elma Lipponen. Lip-po-nen, in case any of you have trouble pronouncing it. Um, welcome to your very first day at Lion Paw, to your freshman year (unless any of you happen to be second or third-years which I don't think so…).
"I will be your homeroom teacher for class 1-G. Every morning, I will be taking attendance, but later in the day, you may see me teaching in other classes such as Home Ec which some of you might be taking. If you do, feel free to come say hello to me!"
A couple students snickered, the rest remained silent. Hearing the lukewarm reception, Lipponen flustered as she changed the subject. "U-um, so anyways, I'll be taking attendance. When I call your name, please say 'here'!"
And so she began, listing off names one-by-one in trite alphabetical last name-first name order. With each call, a vocal reply was made, identities of each student known and recognized as the whole class began forming together like pieces of a puzzle. Only with the last student called and counted would the picture be complete.
But it was only halfway when the routine experience made a turn for the interesting.
"Gunther, Amelia?"
Immediately, the class stirred, as if roused from their slumber. A mere name yet it held innate power at its mention. Heads turned like searchlights, eager to see who it belonged to.
A tentative hand attracted their stares like magnets.
"H-here," came the timid reply. The hand sank back down but the damage had been done. All attention had landed on her now, a 15-year old girl who shrank into her seat from all the stares.
Whispers filled the air like the buzzing of bees.
"She's a Gunther?"
"Her? The one who came late?"
"That name's all over the history books!"
"Here, of all places? I'm so lucky~~."
"She looks cute. Wonder what I should ask…"
The gossip was everywhere, now free and in the air for all to hear. As much as she tried, it was no use hiding from it. She could never run from something she was born into. It was almost like a curse.
Amelia Gunther could never get used to this.
The bell chimed throughout the school, signaling the first daily intermission. On cue, the class spontaneously reacted to their first taste of freedom. The composition immediately dissolved, with many shuffling out with a few choosing to linger behind, fluttering among fast friends, putting the finishing touches to their notes, or idling on their personal phones.
Among those that chose to remain was Amelia who exhaled in relief at the interlude.
Finally, with the spotlight now away, she could relax.
"Hey girl!"
Amelia barely had the chance to turn before a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her. The pouncing embrace shocked her but it took only a second to realize it was an enthusiastic hug, courtesy of Abbie.
"Uh, h-hey," the brunette timidly responded.
Frederick loomed over Abbie's shoulders. "C'mon Abbie. People are all going to get the wrong idea if they see you like this."
Her audacious smirk leered back at him. "So what? It's just a little girl-to-girl moment. You wouldn't get it."
"Whatever you say," the boy grumbled. His expression softened as he cast his gaze to Amelia. "... Hey, so-"
Amelia's mood deflated instantly. "You don't have to tell me. I can already tell what's on your mind."
The tall boy rubbed the back of his head, betraying his own misgivings at having to ask the unnecessary question. "I'm sorry. I just found it difficult to believe you're the daughter of that family, much less be in our class of all places. I had wanted to ask some questions, but I guess I shouldn't bother…"
"It's fine," replied the Gunther daughter as she looked down. "Everywhere I go, I always get that reaction once they realize who I am. It was fine at first, but the more it kept happening…"
"Yeah, we get it," Abbie cut in as she rested her head by her desk. "Got sick of being famous, right? I don't blame ya for wanting some personal space. Least it beats letting that fame get to your head and you wind up becoming a jackass."
Amelia's gaze remained downcast. "I know what my family's done… but I just want to live a normal life."
"Then let's do just that!" She looked up to see a fiery passion in Abbie's eyes. "I already told you my name, but I haven't told you about myself. I'm a first-year just like you, I like music (rock and punk rock is my jam!), and I ain't afraid to speak my mind on anything!"
Before Amelia had a chance to react, Abbie's gaze shot towards Frederick. "C'mon, your turn!"
He relented with a shrug. "Already told you who I am. I'm a… I'd say I'm as normal as one can be. Don't know what else to say."
"That you're a nerd and a health nut?" Abbie added as her elbow playfully ribbed the boy. He immediately retaliated with shoving her face away.
"Shut up." Yet this elicited a small laugh from Abbie and from it, even a playful smirk emerged on Frederick. And before she knew it, Amelia had a smile of her own as she watched the two.
Her first day of a new life - in spite of the bumps she found two she could call friends.
She now had a good feeling about her time at school.
A head fell upon a hard table surface and from the impact a long sigh drew out like the wheezing air of an old tire.
"... Why oh why out of all the days…?" Lipponen groaned heavily.
Just this morning, she had overslept. Then for first period it took her a good several minutes before realizing she had stepped inside the wrong classroom.
Then she realized she had forgotten to print the handouts for class.
Then her phone's ringtone went off in the middle of second period at full volume (it was a spam caller).
Then her laptop's battery died because she had forgot to charge it yesterday.
And then she spent the rest of third period and all of first break snoozing.
It was honestly a miracle she still had her job.
"Ugh… can anything go right for once?"
"A tough day, Ms. Lipponen?"
Glancing up, Lipponen was surprised to be graced by the appearance of the school headmaster. She shot up straight on her seat. "N-not at all Headmaster! Just… a string of unfortunate circumstances, you know how they are!" she excused a little too cheerfully.
The old principal, wisened from long experience, knew better than to fall for it. But he knew Elma well - as chronic her absentmindedness was, she was compassionate and spirited to the task. With educators at her age, people of her caliber were a rarity.
He - like the rest of the institute - were willing to put up with her if it meant results.
He stroked his wooly beard and he could see that his habit was having a placating effect on his staff; the wizened old man stereotype did have its uses. "Well, I'm not sure if you have heard the news, but recently the Royal Board of Education had approved a substantial budget expansion for all major institutions across Gallia, ours included. This move is to further our country's standards across the board, get our potential bright minds in good shape you see."
Lipponen's interest raised with her eyebrows. "Oh? That's certainly good news."
"Indeed," continued the headmaster. "And moreover, after reviewing our finances we have found out that we have quite a surplus. And since I'm in such a pleasant mood…"
The teacher stared in silence. Slowly, the dots in her head began to form and as they did, the sparks quickly grew into a conflagration. The whites of Lipponen's eyes expanded wide.
She could hardly speak straight, her emotions swelling and spilling out of her mouth. "Y-y-y-you mean…?"
The headmaster nodded. "After all these years, I have finally decided to indulge you with your tankery wish, Ms. Lipponen. But only just this once. Please keep in mind-"
But further elaboration was interrupted by a flurry that burst in his face. A shower of emotion that exploded forth. A seedling instantly popping into existence as a flower at full-bloom. To Elma Lipponen, she need not hear any more as she practically jumped out of her desk, shrilling with joy.
"YAAHHOOOOO!"
And with that, she had dashed outside the staff room, her loud carol echoing from the hallway. With her departed all that remained was deafening silence and stunned gaping. Even the headmaster wondered what his visage was like, to witness such a spectacular display before his face.
He recalled how much Lipponen had practically begged for the school to accommodate that particular niche of the sport called "tankery" that had taken root in Europa so long ago. But time after time, her requests had to be turned down due to the peculiar and demanding needs of that activity, particularly when there lacked a sustainable interest for that foreign enterprise within Lion Paw. In fact, it was only Lipponen who seemed to have a fervid passion for the sport; the others found it too eccentric to led their aid. The repeat rejections to Lipponen's desires only fueled the disinterest.
Until he decided to throw her a bone.
The headmaster gave a second to consider whether to follow after her before he just shrugged his shoulders and went about his merry day.
And privately, he wished a merry day to the young teacher too.
A pair of feet tapped and pranced across the corridor, in tune with a merry jingle that hummed not from her mouth but from her very heart. A ditty improvised from the imagination of her mood, still high as a kite. Her thunderous cheer had made her throat coarse, her strength spent. The fatigue required her to relegate her celebrations to more modest means.
Ether way, Lipponen could never be more happy in her life.
"Um, M-Ms. Lipponen? Are you all right?"
Opening her eyes, she caught sight of Amelia Gunther walking down the hall, stacks of documents weighed on her hands. A bewildered expression asked questions in the girl's mind, and still running high on elation, Lipponen was all too happy to answer.
"Oh, couldn't be any better, my dear~! Starting today, I get to form my very own elective: the tankery club!"
Amelia tilted her head. "Tankery? I've barely heard of it. It's… something to do with tanks, isn't it?"
"Oh-hoho, more than that, Ms. Gunther! It's a sport to many, a martial art for others, or way of life for some! Tankery is all of the above, an activity unlike anything else the world has ever seen! The feel of a rumbling engine, the clatter of caterpillar tracks, the power of a cannon… all of this experience in the most exhilarating, unforgettable, and perfectly safe manner! I've been dying to convince the school board to approve of a club that revolves around it!"
Amelia watched as her homeroom teacher fluttered about like an excited butterfly, practically singing her explanation. She had never seen her so cheerful before, so dissimilar to how she first saw her early in the morning.
"You sound very… devoted to it," she said.
Lipponen gave a nervous chuckle. "Heh heh, tankery's something that I could never stop thinking about, ever since I first heard of it when I was a child. I was told being a tank-freak runs in my family."
The student gave her an understanding smile. "Well then, guess I shouldn't hold you back much longer; need to deliver this to the staff room. I wish you good luck, Ms. Lipponen!"
"Ta-ta, Ms. Gunther~! May you have a pleasant day yourself!"
The two parted ways. Out of the corner of her eye, Amelia could still see her teacher traipse down the hall, her spirits still brimming vigorously. It was like watching a child experiencing the happiest days that will forever be immortalized in their fondest memories.
She never stopped smiling at the sight.
Evening.
Situated in her desk chair, Amelia stretched her arms, basking in the privilege that came after spending the daylight confined to the classrooms where some would consider the work to be shackles of the great societal system that was national education: the nights at the school dormitories.
Around her, her room was unlike the others in layout and essentials: a living space that came with desk, drawers and shelves, a window overlooking the city beyond the walls of campus, a pristine washroom, a humble kitchen, and most importantly of all, a comfortable bed that would once again await its guest for the second night of her freshman year. However, her personal touches were what proved this particular room to be hers: the once austere desk decorated with personal belongings and gifts from home and a luggage bag that brought it all tucked away in the closet. Her school uniform stood hanging on a rack on a wall, her prized red hankie hanging with it all safe and sound.
Amelia sat in front of her personal laptop, a trusty companion from a couple years ago, along with a worn enigma box and memories of her parent's phone call for company. First day of high school offered little in the way of coursework save for the routine introductory flyers and course information. But as expected, the first day would always be the easiest - a new environment with an independent lifestyle was the first challenge everyone in Gallia faced. She told her family back home that they'd have nothing to worry about, so long as she enjoyed her time abroad.
She hummed to herself in thought, her hands wondering what to do with what remained of her afterschool freedom. As she thought, she suddenly remembered something. Strumming the keyboard, it took her only a second to find what she was looking for.
Tankery
Translated from the Oriental word sensha-dō ("way of the tank"), tankery describes the Far Eastern form of martial arts centered around tank-on-tank combat. Originating as a female-dominated practice, the activity is meant to be much of a spectator sport as it is a way for practitioners to hone their sense of selves.
…
During the early 20th-century, the continent of Europa was wracked by two destructive wars sparked and sustained by ideological differences, political instability, and struggle over the critical but precious ragnite. The aftermath of the Second Europan War saw to the unexpected arrival of great leviathan ships from the Far East, spearheaded by their Foreign Ministry to help promote peace and encourage stability while also taking the opportunity to strengthen ties with the west.
During the Far East's humanitarian campaign, a considerable culture exchange took place among the various Europan powers, one of which was the idea of tankery which came from the Far East as a form of sport and martial art. While much of the Oriental culture has yet to establish a foothold in Europa, tankery was one aspect that found itself surprisingly at home in the former war-torn lands. When the conflicts finally died down after EWII, the sport blossomed as the Far Eastern representatives believed it was "a way for civilization that had experienced conflict to come to terms with the past so as to learn how to avoid war".
Since then, tankery has grown with teams and clubs finding home in the Atlantic Federation, the Principality of Gallia, and the lands that once made up the East Europan Empire, the latter of which has demonstrated a considerable enthusiasm for the practice. The Europan Tankery League (ETL) was formed in 1986 EC to serve as a regulatory body for all Europan tankery, administrating the sanctioned teams, serving as a mediator and enforcer of established rules, and overseeing the manufacture of League-approved vehicles, ammunition, and equipment. Much of Europa's academic institutes offer tankery as a sport, with some renown professional tankery practitioners hailing from them.
However, in spite of all this tankery still finds itself a highly niche activity, demanding considerable funds and resources that cannot be found in any other recreation.
The more Amelia read, the more intrigued she felt. She had heard the name once or twice but never knew this much about it, let alone how it came about from the end of the Europan Wars! True, she did know about the last part but this was not something any history lesson or book had covered.
She was tempted to look more into it, but as she did Amelia wondered if the club Lipponen was starting was for her. The club fair was imminent and she had not yet decided what her extracurricular would be, if any. She had skimmed her options, but couldn't find any that jumped out to her.
Rubbing her eyes, Amelia yawned.
Closing her laptop shut, she put this in the back of her mind.
Another morning, another day of school. Already the anxieties of the first trials dissipated, the new routines becoming the vogue.
Amelia found herself back in the company of her two new friends, taking the first intermission as an opportunity to explore the campus, witnessing the various faculties and services the school had to offer, some more than even they had expected. They wandered the halls in pleasant spirits.
"Wow. This place is bigger than I thought!"
Frederick nodded. "Tell me about it. They really didn't skimp out on this place; plenty of classrooms, science labs, lecture halls, auditoriums, computer rooms, and of course can't forget about the library." He finished with a content look on his face. "And we haven't poked around all those buildings outside too. I'm interested in seeing what the gymnasium has to offer."
Abbie accompanied the two as they roamed the halls, a pair of headphones and loud tunes insulating her from the topic of conversation. But as she followed after them, she spied a troop of students strolling through another corridor, their arms and hands ladened with furniture, posterboard, and stacks of flyers.
"Looks like the club fair's not gonna be a joke," she commented.
Frederick and Amelia followed her gaze, a similar thought in their minds. "Hm. Looks like it. There's a lot of clubs I have my eye on, like political science, social studies, maybe even the student council."
"Don't know what I want to be in," Abbie ruminated. "Doubt there's anything casual enough for me. Could try the choir club if they let me."
"How about you, Amelia? Any club you're interested in joining?"
Amelia hesitated. "I… um…"
"Ms. Lipponen, I'm afraid we cannot make accommodations for your own club here."
Immediately, all three fell silent and alert. Adult voices came clear close by - very close by. Discerning the direction they came from, the group gravitated to the nearest corner of the hallway, where upon peeking discreetly their inquisitiveness only grew.
Around the corner, a few adults huddled in a group, one with a clipboard in hand and all dressed formally to suggest their places in the school as fellow teachers and administrative staff.
And before them stood their homeroom teacher, all alone. Her sunny disposition from yesterday was nowhere to be seen.
"I-I'm sorry, but surely-"
"We understand how much this tankery club of yours means to you; we all remember how much you've requested for one. But you must know that every extracurricular activity must satisfy the bare minimum of participating members. Clubs at Lion Paw cannot be recognized and treated as legitimate unless they exceed three members at the very minimum, advisors not included."
"And unfortunately, it seems that no one has expressed any interest in that sport of yours," spoke another teacher. "If your club can't find any members within the half-hour when the club fair commences, then…"
A collective sigh. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lipponen. Today might have to be another year of disappointment."
Amelia watched as her teacher bowed her head in grief, her shoulders trembling as she tried to console herself. Eavesdropping so close, she could even make out the sounds of crying.
"Not again… not like this… I was so close…"
She couldn't tear her gaze away.
Frederick's hand gently tugged at her shoulder. "C'mon. There's nothing we can do."
But there was.
Putting her own hand on his shoulder, Amelia pulled to the boy's surprise. "H-hey, what're you doing?"
Amelia's tone - a serious intonation he had never expected from a spritely young girl - shut him up. "Doing what's right," she muttered.
Stepping out into the open, the sudden appearance of three students drew all attention towards them. A suited man looked quizzically at them, directing his questions towards the closest among them: a brown-haired girl with a red handkerchief. "Um, do you need anything?"
"I came to see Ms. Lipponen. I was informed there would be a tankery club here? If so, I'd like to join."
Everyone - the adults, Frederick, and Abbie - looked at her, stunned. But none were as more surprised than Lipponen who turned and saw just who it was that announced it.
"... A-Amelia?"
Another teacher glanced down on his clipboard. "W-well, that's one who's willing to join. Your name?"
"Amelia Gunther. And joining me are Frederick Potter and Abbie Stark."
The two whirled over at their friend with shocked faces. Ignorant to this, the same teacher thumbed through his documentation. "Hm. Neither of you are currently enrolled in any other club. Well, that's three right here."
The suited man turned back to Lipponen. "I guess miracles do happen, Ms. Lipponen; rather conveniently too. Regardless, that's three new members. That satisfies the basic criteria, so we'll leave this subject of dissolution closed. Congratulations, Elma. We'll see you later."
As they turned to leave, Frederick and Abbie immediately descended upon their friend. "What were you thinking?!" he hissed.
"Yeah Amy (I can call you that, right?), what the hell?!"
The Gunther daughter blinked, suddenly flustering before her friends' faces. "I-I'm sorry! I just- I didn't want to see Ms. Lipponen be hurt about not making her dream come true so I-"
"Hooray!" The three found themselves smushed together as Lipponen's embrace managed to lasso them all, her arms suddenly displaying vigorous energy that surprised even Frederick. The trio floundered in the tight hug as the teacher swung them around as she danced with joy.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you thankyouthankyouthankyou~! This is now the best day of my life!"
"Erk… Ms. Lippo…nen…"
"Teach… can't… breathe…"
"Oh, my bad." Letting them all go, Amelia and Abbie breathed with relief, glad to be able to feel their arms and ribs again. "Got carried away. Whoopsies~."
"So what happens next?" asked Amelia once she caught her breath.
Lipponen clasped her hands as she explained. "Well, first thing I'd like to do, as the club advisor, is to welcome you all as the founding members of Lion Paw tankery club! Congratulations!"
Hearing this, Frederick slumped in disappointment. "There goes those clubs I wanted to check out…"
Abbie huffed as tended to her headset, fussing over any damage incurred during the squeezing embrace as well as the tangled cords. "What will we even do in tankery? I mean it's just us three and you, Teach. We got a plan? A place to meet? Heck, do we even have a tank?"
To everyone's surprise, Lipponen only chuckled at the questions. Confidence exuded from her voice.
"Follow me, everyone. I think you'll like what I have to show you."
The three freshmen followed in their teacher's footsteps as she led them, finding themselves directed outside and onto the vast school grounds. Though having seen the pictures and partaken in the opening ceremony, the three always found it hard to swallow just the vast space of the campus grounds, a wide world of the campus beyond the school building.
"Is the tankery club room far off?" Amelia asked with uncertainty. Knowing how well-established the other clubs were, she wondered if the newest addition to Lion Paw's extracurricular activities was relegated with leftover school property.
Lipponen put on a reassuring smile. "Not at all. It's just tucked in a secluded area, close to where the sports clubs convene for practice where there's open space. Like them, we'll be needing them for our activities."
The group followed the only paved walkway as much as they followed their new advisor before she made a turn that led them on a graveled path that led deeper away from the school, walking past the outer buildings and soon the flanking trees. The three students took in the unfamiliar sights, curious as to what awaited them.
"There it is! That's our clubroom!"
Lipponen pointed ahead, where Amelia, Abbie, and Frederick spied a clearing where a small garage shed connected to a small sheltered lot. The buildings looked unlike what they expected from a car mechanic shop, albeit muddied, dusted and, more conspicuously, bare.
Stark rolled her eyes at the sight. "Great. Everybody gets nice clean rooms and we get a rust-house after a hike through nowhere. Bet it doesn't even have air-conditioning."
"I wouldn't be so pessimistic just yet," Frederick replied without cynicism. "We haven't seen the inside. And I don't mind the walk."
"Indeed, Mr. Potter - we haven't seen the inside," Lipponen beamed, procuring a set of keys from her pocket. Fiddling with them, she slipped the right one in and the lock turned with a resounding click.
The door creaked slightly, and Lipponen pulled the doors open. The surface was blanketed with age and rust, yet she was undaunted as she unveiled the garage to captivated faces. A tinge of old wood and scent of oil quickly tickled their senses as they stepped inside.
Before them sat a great mound of milky-white, a tarp that harbored a great secret beneath, a jutting barrel being the only hint that enticed great interest. A cannon barrel.
Facing the students with one last grin, Lipponen yanked the cover away, the heavy cloth billowing in the breeze like a cape in the unveiling of its hero. All eyes widened as they saw what it was.
A bulwark of metal, slanted on its front and resting on pairs of rough-faced tracks; the sleek aura enhanced by the angular head on top, a great lance jutting out from a bulbous white hilt. The exterior's shade of ocean-blue gleamed through the faint coat of dust and muck. A design hinting to more archaic times, the time of hardship, adversity, and courage.
It was a tank. An actual tank.
Jaws were agape but no words could come out, the silence proving to be the three's words of astonishment. Lipponen couldn't help but be giddy at their reactions.
"Don't worry, I was just like that when I saw my first tank in person. In fact, first time I saw this tank I was just like that too. Type 37s are quite rare, so I couldn't resist!"
Frederick woke from his stupefaction. "The what?"
"This tank, the Type 37 Universal Tank!" Lipponen stepped in front of the vehicle, concrete passion in her motions and tone as she began to explain. "As the name implies, it was first developed in late 1937 as the Gallian army's next attempt at an all-new tank design, one they hoped would push the limits of armor design to the next level! Acquiring the complete documents and blueprints of the legendary tank that saved this country in EWII, this was made to be as close to those specifications as possible while making it possible for mass-production. So well that this new vehicle exceeded expectations that it was given the honor of being the first 'universal tank', merging speed, firepower, and protection in ways not thought possible! Also, tidbit: some call it the Type 38 because that was when they first started appearing, though some like me will dispute this fact since the design started the year before so on a technicality it's the Type 37. Try to convince me that it should be the Type 38 and I might give you a passing grade~."
The exposition so uncharacteristic of their homeroom teacher brought a befuddled look from Abbie. "Wow. Okay, so… yeah. Guess you really like tanks…"
Amelia never left her gaze from the tank, her eyes glued to the war-honed design. She approached it, seeing the coarse texture up close; her hand felt the metal cold and weathered, the edges rounded with age. Yet the blue and white paint was slick, deprived of flakes and pores. She faintly remembered seeing tanks at museums before but this felt different. This felt unique.
This was real.
"I can't believe it… Our very own tank…"
From the corner of her eye, Amelia caught Lipponen smiling. But it wasn't just for her; she saw her look over the tank, Frederick Potter, Abbie Stark, and Amelia Gunther with tears in her eyes. It wasn't a smile of happiness or satisfaction, content that the club was formed.
It was of joy, to see her greatest desire come true. The day the Lion Paw tankery team was now a reality. They still had so far to go, but this was a start.
A new beginning.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This is something I've had cooking in my mind-oven for some time. The idea of this crossover came about from a myriad of possible ideas that I felt worthy to explore. I had put this in the backburner for a bit but my time spent in the GuP fanfiction community compelled me to give this a go. That said however, my hands will be tied working on another crossover fic so this will be more of a side project.
Now, as this is a Valkyria Chronicles x Girls und Panzer fic, I reckon the last thing people were expecting was the setting. Best I can describe this story is that this will be a "GuP but in VC". Admittedly, it is a rather unorthodox way to handle a crossover, especially with how the VC world is now in the 21st-century and that sensha-do/tankery is also a thing. How sensha-do came to be in this world is… kinda bullshit if I was being charitable XD. Basically an excuse to justify the crossover, but so long as the rest of the story is enjoyable or intriguing enough then I figure I can get away with it.
…Alternatively, this whole idea was just an excuse to have tanks and armored vehicles of a fictional franchise be given the GuP treatment. That's also a valid interpretation.
I had the beginning planned out a bit but while writing felt that it was rather lengthy, writing paragraphs of what amounts to world-building before even mentioning tanks. I had somewhat considered having a separate prologue that narrates the kind of world this fanfic is in but I figured it would only drag the main plot longer than it already has and be too direct (I figured it'd be better to weave the details in the story so as to make them feel more natural while leaving some finer details to the reader's imagination/interpretation). Hopefully the pacing wasn't too slow, and hopefully things will get interesting soon.
Another thing worth mentioning that some of you may have already noticed is the presence of boys that will play a role in this story. That's a major thing that deviates from GuP and while I don't read much GuP fanfics myself (other than a few such as AAHW's "Dust Devils - A Girls und Panzer Story" which I will be taking some inspiration from when writing this) I hear the inclusion of boys is far from being an original idea. While the idea of the VC characters' descendants conveniently attending the same schools and soon partaking in the same sport is rather contrived, I felt that having them all be girls to maintain the Girls und Panzer part was pushing the suspension of disbelief at bit much. Plus, the mix of male-female cast is keeping more in line with the VC games and will hopefully make for interesting interactions.
And last but not least, all tank names will be completely made up as the VC games never made much effort in the names of the tanks aside from the Type 36s in VC2. The Type 37/38 is just the tip of the iceberg with this convention.