Chapter 10: Worth Fighting For

As she heard the outcome of the match being announced, Kazue, standing on the side of the field, let off a sigh. Perhaps being pitted against Oarai had been a stroke of misfortune, but in the end, she had only herself to blame.

But while it was difficult to accept her shortcomings, it also meant the beginning of realizing where she could improve.

Glancing up in the direction of the stands, Kazue noticed her grandmother, and hoped to talk with her more after the match.

"I think I'm starting to understand what you were trying to tell me, Grandmother," Kazue thought. "Perhaps I may never become a tanker of the same caliber that you once were, but if I can benefit from your advice, then I may yet be proof that you were a good and long-lasting example to others."

In the stands, Kazue's grandmother glanced her way. Her granddaughter had faced an opponent that was above her level, and had fought as hard as she could, just as she herself had when she had faced similar situations in the past. Most importantly, though, Kazue was starting to do tankery on her own terms, for her own reasons. That, in and of itself, was most important for Shizuru, and she hoped her granddaughter would succeed there, if at nothing else.

Emi and Satoha watched the end of the match, pleased but not surprised at the result.

"Miho's in fine form," Emi said, "even if Joghurt's only marginally less of a joke than I thought."

"Joghurt has improved, and did as well as they could," Satoha said. "Even in Germany, none of the 'weak' schools are at this much of a disadvantage against others. Keep in mind that both you and I are fortunate to have gotten into a relatively good one- both in Japan and Germany. As such, we can consider ourselves more fortunate than Nanpo-san."

"That may be so, Satoha," Emi said. "But Miho overcame the odds once, and I don't see why it isn't possible for another school to do the same. The reason why her school became strong was because she and everyone else made it so through their efforts."

Satoha nodded.

"That's true, Emi," Satoha said. "And that hope, of becoming stronger and defeating the well-established schools, is likely what enabled Joghurt to persist against Oarai. They quite possibly would have prevailed against a less skilled commander, or if Oarai as a whole had less experience."

Satoha wondered what it would have been like if she had attended a school that few seriously believed would win the tournament, but realized it was largely beside the point. No matter what her school or those of her opponents she had at her disposal, she would give everything she had in the pursuit of victory, without getting complacent or giving in to despair. Oarai had that same sot of resolve, so Satoha looked forward to facing them in a tankery match.

As Oarai's remaining tanks drove off the battlefield, Miho surveyed the surviving tanks, and found a somewhat unlikely group. Apart from her own team and Octopus Team, the crews whose tanks remained in operation at the end included Mallard Team, Duck Team, Turtle Team, Rabbit Team and Anteater Team. The latter's survival had been necessary to win, but the others had not always been the stronger performers in the team, for various reasons. Some had weak tanks, while for others, the problem lay with their teamwork, skill or determination. Their problems were not the same, but one thing that they had in common was that they had made tremendous progress on them.

Miho found their development a promising sign. The team as a whole was improving, and the weaker links were becoming strong. She saw value in those others who would deem useless, and in turn, they sought to vindicate her faith in them. This aspect of Oarai not only made it a more welcoming team, but also a stronger one, so Miho was glad that her belief in leading the way she did had been vindicated once again.

The two teams' leaders and their tank commanders met each other and exchanged bows in the same clearing where the pre-match greetings had taken place.

"Thank you for the match, Nishizumi-san," Kazue said, offering her hand to Miho.

"It was a good match, Nanpo-san," Miho said, as she shook Kazue's hand.

"The outcome is hardly a surprise to me," Kazue said. "But even so, I was able to see how you managed to prevail against superior odds, and see just how you fight. Perhaps there is room I can improve even further. Perhaps there are ways for me to win against odds like the ones you faced."

"I know there are, Nanpo-san," Miho said. "To me, tankery is a game where everyone can participate, and everyone can become a good tanker. Even if I'm graduating, I'd like to see what you and your school can do in the future."

"I'll do my best to not disappoint you," Kazue said with a smile. "But if I may, I have a lesson for you, albeit what I think you learned already. The day may come- quite possibly very soon- when your school faces defeat. If you have the right mindset, you will come back even stronger."

"For I say, through the grace given unto me, to every man that is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think; but to think soberly, according as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith," Yukiko said.

"I understand," Miho said. "Thank you for the advice, Nanpo-san, Maya-san."

"Thank you," Nodoka said. "I hope I will face both of you again someday."

As the two sides parted ways, Kazue fully realized the implications of what had happened. Her school had been eliminated from the tournament in the first round, an undesirable outcome by even relatively humble standards. Its next chance to compete would happen next year- a chance that would never come for Sawaya and the rest of the third years. Kazue was well aware of what this meant, and believed that, once again, she owed the team an apology for her failure.

But she realized that it was not the end of the world, or even the end of her high school tankery career. She realized that she had many more opponents she could face on the field of tankery battle, many more lessons to learn, and a great deal of time to improve herself. Seeing all this potential in the future, Kazue had to wonder why she ever thought herself unfortunate.

"The old me would likely have found this attitude too defeatist," Kazue thought. "Perhaps the fact that I've changed since then is, in and of itself, a victory worth celebrating."

Oarai and Joghurt's instructors had a professional interest in the outcome of the match, but their own feelings came into play.

"Oarai's still going strong," Ami said. "You must have taught them well, Instructor Takahashi."

"I appreciate the kind words, Instructor Chouno," Aiko said. "But many of the veterans had a great deal of experience, and the newcomers proved quite willing to learn. You could say that I had a good starting point"

"That was true when I was teaching them," Ami said. "They faced a steep learning curve, but they were able to triumph their own way. Since I've started teaching at so many different high schools, I've realized the truth of what you told me."

"Yes, there is no one infallible way to teach," Aiko said. "At the same time, Instructor Chouno, I do understand your sense of loyalty to the Nishizumi school, just as I have a sense of loyalty to the Atago school. We do owe our teachers debts of gratitude, after all, even if we do not always end up imitating them."

Ami nodded.

"This year will be a crucial one for the Nishizumi school," Ami said. "But in spite of that, I do personally admire Miho-san's quest to do tankery on her own, and I'm not the only Nishizumi disciple to feel that way."

Elsewhere, the match between Rhineland and Momotaro concluded, as Maho surveyed the disabled tanks ahead of hers. The vast majority of the enemy's fighting forces lay disabled near the shore of a lake, and the few others had abruptly stopped their attacks upon hearing of their flag tank being disabled.

Maho had led a well-organized offensive that had thrown the enemy's forces into disarray. Their hasty retreat had left the flag tank vulnerable, and Maho's troops had focused their fire on it, bringing it down before long. The battle had ended with her side only having lost a single tank, and with more than half of Momotaro's tanks disabled.

For a Nishizumi, this level of performance was considered adequate, and Maho recalled how these standards were difficult for Miho to enjoy, even when she could meet them. She wondered how Miho's match against Joghurt was going, inferring that while Miho was most likely to win, it would be extremely unliikely for her to win so easily.

But win or lose, Maho enjoyed the matches most when she could share them with Miho. The knowledge that Miho was free to live her own way was enough to encourage Maho to continue down her path, but she still hoped Miho would walk the path alongside her.

Rhineland and Momotaro's commanders came together for the post-game ceremony.

"Thank you for the match," she said to her opponent, as they exchanged bows.

As they rose, Maho noticed Mahiru's expression was chastened, and she seemed almost at a loss for words.

"I owe you an apology, Nishizumi-san," Mahiru said. "I judged you overly harshly, and saw in you everything I perceived as my own weaknesses."

As Mahiru bowed again in apology, a gesture separate from the game-ending bow that did not need to be reciprocated, Maho gave a nod, and a slight, but warm, smile.

"I accept your apology, Kumano-san," Maho said. "But, if I may ask, what do you mean?"

"To be honest, I sometimes wonder if I'm worthy of commanding my school or inheriting my mother's position," Mahiru said. "At times, I believe that I only earned both of them because of who my mother is, rather than because of who I am. You do have skill, Nishizumi-san and I was wrong to assume that you'd gotten where you were because of your connections."

Maho nodded, starting to realize that she was not talking to a rival commander and scion of an opposing school of thought, but someone who was coming from a fundamentally similar position as she was.

"I think I understand where you're coming from," Maho said. "The pressure of inheriting a tankery school can be great, and not everyone chooses to do it."

"Such as?" Mahiru said expectantly. The importance of her responsibilities had been impressed upon her since she was young, but she had also been taught to think of her status as heiress as a privilege, one that she would have to earn.

"There are those who are born into the Nishizumi family and do not necessarily feel able to do things our way," Maho said. "Miho is one such person, and there are many others who entered our family's school at a young age, could not meet its expectations, and dropped out. The only advice I can give you, what I gave to my sister, is to find a path in life that you can call your own, be it tankery or anything else."

Mahiru nodded.

"I've always known that I'm not yet worthy to inherit my mother's headship of our school," Mahiru said, "although, if all goes well, it will be a long time before I will have to take on that responsibility. It may not end up becoming my path in life, after all. We shall see, and I hope to show you the decision I have made and its results."

"I hope so, too," Maho said with a smile.

The two commanders shook hands and parted ways, focusing once again on the paths that had been chosen for them.

After the game concluded, Maho met with her mother outside the stands to discuss the match.

"Well done, Maho," Shiho said, with a slight smile on her face. "From what I heard, your opponent had mainly seniors in the upper echelons of the tankery team, so defeating them was a good show of your and our school's strength."

"Thank you, Mother," Maho said, with the same grateful yet almost emotionless tone that she used to accept her mother's rare praise.

"Have you heard anything from Miho about Oarai's match today?" Shiho said.

"Nothing yet," Maho said. "I haven't had a chance to check for any messages."

Maho then pulled out her phone, turned it on and saw a text message from Miho.

"We won against Joghurt. I hope you were successful too, Onee-chan."

Maho smiled warmly. Miho saw her first and foremost as her sister, rather than a Nishizumi heiress, which was a large part of the reason why Maho hoped that Miho would be free to make her own choices and be true to herself. Miho's triumphs thus gave her more joy than her mother's approval, since they were something Maho desired on her own, rather than because it was expected of her.

Maho typed up a quick reply in her usual style, being short, brief and to the point.

"I was. Congratulations, Miho; let's talk later."

"What was that about?" Shiho said.

"It was a text message from Miho, Mother,"Maho said. "She won against Joghurt."

Shiho nodded, having waited for the news, even if it was what she expected.

"I see," Shiho said. "I thought she'd win against a school like that, even if winning the tournament again may be difficult. The odds are against Oarai in many regards."

"Perhaps they are, Mother," Maho said, "but Miho has overcome them before."

"She has," Shiho said. "But this year is also an important opportunity for the Nishizumi school to regain face, and triumph against those who defeated us before. Erika is doing her part, and I trust you will do yours as well."

There was only one response the Nishizumi heiress could give-"Yes, Mother." But all the same, she hoped Miho would overcome the odds yet again, and prove that her victory was not a fluke. Her tactics were not the ones the Nishizumis endorsed, but they could lead her to victory. Her reasons were not those of the Nishizumis, but they drove her onward and were worth fighting for.

As the match with Joghurt concluded, some of the parents and family members of the Oarai tankers got up, preparing to leave, with some hoping to congratulate their children before they left.

"Yukari and her friends did it again!" Jungorou said, cheering almost as loudly as Shinzaburou had.

"You do know that the Hetzer was the one that landed the final shot on the enemy flag tank, don't you?" Hisako said. "But in any case, my granddaughter and your daughter proved useful this time, just as I thought."

"You do not seem particularly surprised, Reizei-san," Yuri said.

"Why would I be?" Hisako said. "Mako has always been able to do whatever she puts her mind to, and the only question is whether she can bring herself to put her mind to it. She can actually consistently try these days, so I wonder if she needs me anymore."

Yuri and the Akiyamas looked at each other, and shook their heads.

"I do not believe you should think of it in those terms, ma'am," Yuri said. "Hana-san is quite mature; not yet an adult but able to make her own decisions. In spite of that, she still, to some degree, desires my approval."

"Well, I think the simplest thing to do is give it to her, Isuzu-san," Yoshiko said. "Simply let her know that you love her and support her, whatever path she may choose for her life."

"I will," Yuri said. "I must be going, then; please accept my congratulations on your daughter's victory."

Yuri bowed in gratitude as she prepared to call Hana's cell phone to congratulate her.

Hisako turned back to the Akiyamas.

"I'll consider your advice," Hisako said. "But at the same time, Mako and I don't care for buttering the other up. It's partly because of our natures, and partly because both of us have been through a lot, including losing our parents at a young age. Still, she knows that I care for and am proud of her in my own way, and responds in kind."

Hisako thought back to how around this time a year ago, she had heard the unlikely news that Mako had willingly gotten involved in takery, disbelieving it but not disapproving. Her daughter had become one of many who bore the fate of her school on her shoulders, and was rewarded with a clean tardiness record. Now, Mako did not fight for the sake of a reward, but for the sake of her friends, and so that she could graduate and care for her grandmother.

Perhaps Mako had some ways to go in her efforts, but Hisako felt as though she had accomplished something beneficial since she took in Mako after her parents' death eight years ago.

"Now this is what we call satisfaction from a job well done, Mako," Hisako thought. "Perhaps you'll develop a taste for it, if you haven't already."

As Hisa and Mihoko started to head back to university, the match was on their minds.

"Your schoolmates did quite well, Hisa," Mihoko said.

"It's pleasing to hear that, Mihoko," Hisa said, "especially from someone who once lost to us."

"It's not so surprising if you think about it," Mihoko said. "In any tournament like the high school tankery tournament, whenever two contestants are pitted against each other, only one can continue. Not only is losing gracefully important, as Nanpo-san did this time, but so is winning honorably, continuing onward and making as much use of your opportunity to continue as your opponent would have. Seeing efforts like yours, losing to your school was not such a bad thing, whether last year or four years ago."

"Yeah, facing St. Gloriana last year was quite nice," Hisa said, "since I was able to see you again. But without me, my team wasn't able to do well against Miho and her sister four years ago."

"Sometimes, teams can be struck by misfortune," Mihoko said, "and some teams will, in spite of their best efforts, be unable to continue. But your team did as well as they could, and perhaps Oarai will be tested in such a manner someday, possibly once Nishizumi-san graduates."

"Perhaps," Hisa said. "But if the previous tournament proved that Oarai can triumph over the odds, I think today proved that Oarai can win a relatively easy battle- that is, one in which they actually have a relatively equal fighting chance- without getting complacent. The future's looking bright"

Mihoko nodded, as both of her eyes looked into Hisa's. She had the same hopes for her school, and was looking forward to seeing how her former schoolmates fared in the tournament. If all went well, perhaps they would have another chance to challenge Oarai, and possibly succeed where they had failed the previous year, although they were far from the only school that sought to do so.

As she landed the helicopter at Black Forest's helipad, Erika thought back to the match, having listened to Koume and Kuroko talk excitedly about Miho's victory for the entire flight. The idea of two of Erika's subordinates cheering on the school that had defeated hers, which had been commanded by a girl Erika had resented for multiple reasons was less objectionable to her than she had thought. As long as Koume and Kuroko did their duty as Erika's vice-captains, defeating any school that Black Forest went up against, including Oarai, Erika would tolerate their rooting for Miho in her other matches.

There was a time when she had dismissed Oarai as weak, and believed that its victories were more proof of their opponents' weakness than their strength. And then Black Forest had become yet another opponent Oarai had managed to defeat. Erika's first instinct was to blame her team- herself included- for losing to Oarai, before she started to realize Oarai's strength.

Joghurt was not especially strong, but Oarai had managed a decisive victory over them. Once Erika stopped assuming that Oarai could not achieve a legitimate victory, she found herself noticing more about why they were able to win, and how skilled many of their crews were. They were no longer an enemy that could be taken lightly, and Erika would not be likely to win by doing a by-the-book battle against them.

Erika remembered the words of her coach, Kubo Takako, telling her that rather than think of excuses for her failures, she should rededicate herself to succeeding. That resolve to rise up past the loss had enabled her to become commander of Black Forest, and Erika hoped it would enable her to lead her school to victory against Oarai in her final year of high school.

Author's Notes

Thank you for the favorites and follows.

This was a somewhat short chapter, but it and the next two will mainly serve as "transition" chapters.

Next up will be an Interlude Miho's old friends. I wasn't sure whether to put it before or after Chapter 11.