Jeder und Panzer

Geheimnisse, Geständnisse

"I fight because it is all I knew growing up. Having the bigger gun also helps." – Johann Baumann

"I- I'm only eating these so they don't go to waste." Your guest all but whines, glaring at you with her steel blue eyes. Her left elbow is resting on the tabletop as you turn around from the kitchen counter, and clutched in the other hand is a portion of one of your own home-baked altdeutsche brötchen – quickbread – that you'd taken out of the oven about half an hour back. You'd been taught to cook since you were little, and in the past year you'd been spending a lot of time inside Kuromorimine's cooking classroom, learning, and occasionally helping out.

I didn't mean to set it alight…

"Yes, you do that." You replied drolly, rolling your eyes. Erika Itsumi was a very unorthodox person, in that she was truly friendly to your mutual friend Maho Nishizumi – herself something of an oddity – and hostile to nearly everybody else. That is, until you started baking – she was rarely seen with anything sweet in her lunch, but she oddly enough had a sweet tooth for your quickbread "Bear in mind though, you keep on eating those like you do, and you won't be able to fit in your Panzer Three." Her eyes narrow

"I knew it!" she exclaims triumphantly, managing to cover your apron in crumbs as she leaps out of her seat. The only reason she's here is because of the fact she smelled the shortbread baking in the oven while walking through town. Johann – your brother – was once again in discussion with Shiho Nishizumi and her elder daughter. You could only assume it was about the fact boys were about to enter what was apparently a female-only sport "You're attempting to sabotage the team by rendering a commander unable to take part! This'll get you out of the sport for sure!"

How was I to know that it'd burn so easily… ?

"Yes, truly I am an evil mastermind. Nya~hah~hah~ha." Your deadpan delivery renders her silent for a good few seconds, before her normally stern face cracks a grin before she begins to laugh, you chuckling shortly afterwards. You never understood the whole stereotype thing where Germans had no humour. It was just very subdued in your eyes. The silence that follows after she stops is a mildly awkward one, which you resolve by sitting down opposite her and taking a slice of the quickbread "How do you do it, Erika?"

So much smoke…

"Eh?" Erika asks, having fallen into a silence briefly as she comprehended what you asked "What do you mean?"

"How do you stay so well kept?" you ask, pointing towards the small, but still noticeable, musculature of her upper right arm. Erika was possessed of a wiry build, at least in terms of how defined her muscles could get before they stopped growing. Such as now, for example, her arms were at their maximum definition, and they wouldn't grow further "I've been training for moths, and my arms haven't grown an inch. How do you do it?"

Why did it have to be there… ?

"Wh- why should I tell you anything?" Erika demands, her grip tightening on the quickbread slice, causing crumbs to fall to the floor. You sigh slightly at that, knowing it'd be yet more work for you to do while your brother spent most of the day over at the Nishizumi residence engaged in impromptu debates with a woman you found to be remarkably stern, and incredibly stubborn. You give her a quizzical look, raising your right eyebrow in question, and she averts her eyes "I'll never tell you. You're on your own."

"I didn't expect you to answer anyway, Erika." You tell her with a small smile "Why would I expect such a beautiful flower as yourself to give away her secrets?" she looks at you, astounded by what you just said. You, of course, had this planned form the outset. Erika was remarkably quick to temper, and her flustered point could be reached with but a single word. Rather like how your mother reacts to your father's more thinly veiled flirtations. She glares at you with narrowed eyes, her mouth still hanging open slightly and her cheeks red

"Why would you…"

"Say such a silly and nonsensical thing? The answer is that it's the truth." You explain calmly, watching her eye twitch. Her hand continues to crush the piece of baked goodness, much to your sorrow, and so you take the silent cue to explain "Personally, I find you adorable, and yet ever since I first met you and tried to get into your good graces, you acted harshly. My legs still bear the markings of your boots. Truly, if there are like a beautiful flower upon this ship, it's you. Truly dazzling to the eye, and yet wreathed in thorns."

Erika glares at you, a vein appearing on her left temple, a vibrant, yet subdued blue against her pale skin.

To your surprise, she slumps her shoulders, seemingly in defeat

"There's no getting away from you, is there?" she asks, looking you directly in the eyes, and you maintain her stare until she's forced to look away "Very well… I'll share the day with you – but only to shut you up. I don't like you or anything." A brief silence falls between you, before she gives a small smile – as beautiful a sight as you imagined – and begins to chuckle

Her smile, however, is dwarfed by your own euphoric grin

"It would be this humble gunner's pleasure to accompany you for the day, dame Erika." You declare, as far from humble as you can possibly hope to be. Erika rolls her eyes at your antics, but you've succeeded, where many locals boys have likely failed to get her attention during her original secondary education schooling. Such is your pride, that you think your heart skipped a beat "Sadly, I had no plans for today other than to bake and keep everything clean. Did you have any plans?"

Erika simply grins.

The first order of day – or rather afternoon, seeing as Erika had come over at midday – had been to escort Erika back to her home. That wasn't much to ask, as she lived next door to the Nishizumi residence, which was nothing more than a full fifteen minutes away from where you lived. After that, she told you to wait outside while she tidied herself up, and told you in no uncertain terms that you'd best be grateful that she was even doing this for you, even if it was only to shut you up and stop you asking constantly.

Not that you did, mind you. You took your time, nothing more than once a month if you remembered correctly.

The front door opens, and your jaw drops a tad.

Erika is a person who favours Kuromorimine colours, even outside of school. Dark, subdued greys complemented by the occasional flash of red. You're surprised by the fact that she has clothes that aren't school colours – specifically, she's wearing a white dress normally worn in summer – it's winter – using Columbia blue as a spot colour, as is the case with the straps, the belt, and the two lines on the bottom.

Hide all my worries away, keep my shame a secret

"Well?" she asks, doing a twirl on the pathway leading through her garden "You better like it- I went through a lot of trouble getting this dress!" you supress the urge to laugh and instead nod, mesmerised at the fact that she wasn't in her usual fashion repertoire "Don't just nod at me, picnic boy, say something!"

"You look truly dazzling, dame Erika." You tell her, regaining your bearings. Erika sighs and mutters something as she walks down the path towards you, and on some instinct you crook your arm.

To your surprise, she actually goes along with it and puts her arm through yours

"Good. It's not that I need your compliments, but…" your left eyebrow quirks of its own accord again before she mumbles something just loud enough for you to hear "it'd help with wearing the dress." Indeed, Erika favoured pants, normally black slacks, and dresses were an oddity. A skirt? Certainly she could wear skirts, as Kuromorimine was an all-girl environment - You and your crewmates usually kept to the tank hangar – but to wear a dress, in the company of a boy? Almost certainly impossible.

Brother would forget me if I brought it up…

"Forget what other people think," you tell her, voice as supporting as you can make it "You are you, and they're just jealous that they aren't as pretty as you." Her cheeks redden, and you take a small sense of pride at the fact that you managed to both support and further praise her. You're walking past the Nishizumi residence now, and you can see your brother in one of the windows, looking away from you. The two of you continue on your way, you glad that your brother didn't notice.

We are Nachtmaren, with no room for trivialities like doubt

"We're not too far from the park now." Erika tells you, and she's right – at the far end of the street there's the park, the leaves in the trees a pleasant mix of orange and brown "There's a part of the park where nobody really goes next to the pond, it's too hilly for them to walk properly." Her voice sounds somewhat hopeful at the prospect of privacy "It's out of the way, so nobody can see me in this."

"It's your day," you say "We'll do whatever you want."

No room for mercy. The Nachtmaren wish for only victory…

Erika's primary response to your comment is to blush and look away, shoulder length ash blonde hair covering her face, muttering something you can't hear. You do nothing but continue to smile and continue onwards towards the park. She's looking straight ahead by the time you've cleared the Nishizumi house's walls, though her cheeks continue to look slightly flushed. A few people walking away from the park smile in your direction and nod in greeting before continuing onwards with their day. You yourself gain a slight veneer at that revelation

"Don't you dare get embarrassed around me." Erika scolds you, slapping your arm lightly, a small scowl on her face "If I'm not allowed to be embarrassed, then you most certainly can't, either." You look at her in mild surprise, only to think better of it – it took you the better part of a year to get to this position, and you refuse to allow it to be mucked up in any manner. As a member of Germany's most prestigious Junior Tankery club, you have a reputation to uphold "Once we get in, turn right and keep going straight ahead."

"I take it this leads off the beaten path, then?" you ask, receiving a nod in return. Your 'date' having successfully slipped back into her usual 'dominant-submissive presence' routine, normally acted out by being Maho's second voice in almost all matters that concerned the both of them, you begin to chuckle again "Did dame Nishizumi tell you how she came by the services of my brother?" you ask her, receiving a perplexed look from Erika, before she nods, once. You're certain that either Johann himself, or Maho told her. Even your sister Nina isn't allowed to mention that shame-inducing incident

They'll forget me, forget Johann… forget all we've done right.

"This isn't the place to talk about things like that, you hear me?" she scolds you again, this time her eyes are cold, glaring up at you. Her head only reaches your shoulders, and yet you still feel somewhat more than intimidated by the sheer fierceness of that stare "We'll talk about it later, when we've finished the picnic." The fact that she took the time to remind you of the wicker basket tells you a lot, but nonetheless you're thankful, and so nod appreciatively "Good. We're here now, anyway."

It's a small hillock in a clearing dominated by one of the many ponds in the park. Sat atop the small mound is a willow tree, and while the scene may sound like a romance scene from one of the books you once read, the water was never described as being brown-green, and there was a thick square pillar sat in the middle of the pond, atop which was a tank you knew well; a Panzerkampfwagen IV – possibly Ausführung D given the modified gun mantlet. The commander herself wore a side cap, tilted to the left, her hair shoulder length

"I don't know who she is, if you're going to ask." Erika states bluntly, as you remove the blanket from the hamper and lay it down. Shortly afterwards come the sandwiches and flask, two cups attached to the lid. Within the minute you've set down two small plastic boxes, and one large box, the former containing the quickbread, and the latter containing several sandwiches cut up into smaller portions "All I know is that she must have been good, enough to earn a statue dedicated to her. The rest of the crew are sat on the side of the tank."

True to form, there are four girls, two seated on each side of the tank. All of them are wearing the same uniform as the Commander, and so you focus on their features. The two on the left are the loader and gunner, as the one furthest from the commander has her left arm raised and fingers pointed like a gun. Her counterpart is holding a shell, and both have short hair, at chin length. The furthest from the commander on the right side has long hair and a headset on, meaning that the other long-haired girl was the driver

They look so happy… just like me when I started…

You're quick to get rid of that train of thought

"I see…" you mutter, as Erika seats herself on the picnic blanket. There's something very familiar about the commander, but you can't put your foot on it. That's something for you to think about later, at least. You quickly pop the seals on the large sandwich box and offer it to Erika, who promptly takes out one of the chicken sandwiches, and you yourself take out a salad sandwich "But why is her statue left all the way out here?"

"Like I said, I don't know." Erika replies, hastily swallowing the bite she just took in order to answer "It's been here for as long as I can remember, and even though everywhere else is filthy, the statue has always been clean and free of moss. Rather odd, isn't it?"

"Yes," you say, taking a bite out of your own sandwich. You dislike the quiet, even though you can hear the people not too far away. Due to the nature of the artificial environment provided by the ship, it was almost impossible to find any wildlife on board "It is."

Shamed by my own pride. Johann doesn't call me brother…

"Hm? Michael, is something wrong?" Erika asks, shaking you from a reverie you didn't even realise you'd slipped into. You look at her, and she blushes lightly, looking away "It's not like I'm concerned for you, or anything… I just need you to carry the hamper. It's yours, after all." You begin to chuckle, something you haven't done in over a year, and soon it becomes a laugh. Not the forced laughs you've been giving since the incident, but a pure, carefree laugh, a laugh you haven't laughed since childhood

"No, nothing is wrong, dame Erika." You say, managing to contain your laughter. You found this side of Erika to be… cute, really "Merely thinking. Your humble servant will be by your side for as long as you need." At that Erika smiled. She rarely smiled when she was around Maho, emulating the so-called 'Nishizumi face'. The only one in that family that didn't try to be impassive at all times was the younger sister, Miho. She was on her final year of secondary education, if you remembered rightly – she'd most likely join her sister in Kuromorimine at Shiho's behest

"Good." Erika says, closing her eyes briefly and almost laying down, before shooting back into a sitting position and glaring at you "You better not have been thinking about me, you pervert." The accusation merely makes you burst out into a gale of laughter with the unexpectedness of her remark

"Why on earth would I do that?" you ask, as she humphs and lays back down "You're already here. That's good enough for me." Her eyes open and she gives you a look, not quite a glare but certainly not one of caring "I really do like you, dame Erika."

Her eyes soften slightly, but still manage to maintain that not-glare look to them before she sighs, a defeated look crossing her face briefly as she once again, slowly, sits back up. She stares you down, her eyes an odd mix of emotions, and you realise that she well and truly has caught you off guard. You've been in her and Maho's company for a year and a quarter, and not once have you ever seen her look like this

"But can I trust you?" she asks simply "How do I know you won't betray me for another, prettier girl?"

The two of you sit there in silence as you ponder on what to say.

You smile softly at her

"Because, I trust you, dame Erika, to keep me on the right path when I can't." you tell her, voice quiet as you shuffle closer slightly "Being in your presence alone makes my heart beat in a manner I cannot describe, a manner I have never felt with anyone else. I can't keep you out of my thoughts, dame Erika, because I feel my heart beats only for you."

Erika's eyes widen at your words.

And then she kisses you.

Perhaps I can still hope to see the other side of the hill, after all…

"Michael?" Erika asks, looking at you, though your mind is elsewhere "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Hm?" You'd finished the picnic half an hour back, and now the two of you were just sat there in the almost eerily quietude of that secluded area of the park. You look to the sky, and see the sky just beginning to turn purple as the sun began to set "About why me and Johann are here? Yes… Yes, I do want to talk about it."

That one moment had shamed you. Shamed you, Johann, Gertrude, Minna, Joachim, and even Erica – who Johann has not yet forgiven for stealing his favourite cap. The rest of the WW2 Nachtmaren – Germany's largest, most efficient Tankery team, stretching across all ages and vehicles – had stopped speaking to you. Or at least, the ones at the younger end. Donner was their idol, an immense obelisk that earned praise the country over – and then you had fired that shot that had forced Johann to concede the duel. The fault for the team's shame was yours and yours alone. You were alone.

Erika, in a surprise move, puts her hand on your shoulder

"Why don't you start at the beginning?" she asks

This is it, you think, nobody else knows about this. Not Johann, not Nena, not Maho, or the crew. If they knew, you'd be removed from the machine. That'd be very bad, as Donner is the focal point of your life now, the father that you never had. Donner is there for you when mutter can't. Donner is there for you when you can't hold the bitter tears in any longer.

You take a deep breath, and then you begin.

.

"Michael, can you see them?" Johann asked, his voice as calm and composed as ever "Light shot's loaded." No, Johann had always insisted on preserving what he considered art. Light shot was considered his form of playing with the opposition, and he knew full well there was little that could be done against his tank. Donner packed the single most powerful tank-mounted gun of the Second Great War, the 12.8cm Panzerabwehrkanone 44, and while it took a long time to load, one shot was all you needed "That tank is art, Michael, I expect it to be treat with respect."

"Of course, brother." You said, a small grin on your face as you rested your face against the targeting optics. You were proud of who you were – you were among Germany's most respected sports teams, you were Nachtmaren, Nightmares. You were what the new teams aspired to be, what the veterans were proud to be called! You were the nightmares of your foes. It would take a miracle for your foes to penetrate the armour of your tank, as this poor soul would soon find out. Your grin widened, and you pulled the trigger "Firing!"

The shot flew over them.

Erica and Gertrude were already at work, assembling the projectile and cartridge for the next 'light' shot. You checked their position again before your hands began to rotate the cannon into position. You didn't need to aim, not properly. The Matilda was a slow tank, even moreso with that bulky turret strapped onto it. You were obeying Johann's order, and you didn't need to hit them to make them scared. The sound of the hatch slamming shut caused your grin to widen, and you finished calibrating your aim, deliberately aiming ahead of them "Firing!" the gun boomed triumphantly in return.

The shot went wide of your expected angle, and you saw the road wheels on the Matilda's left side detach.

You didn't look behind you, knowing already that Johann was glaring at you. That tank was a prototype, a Matilda Black Prince. Seeing Matildas was a frequent occurrence, and once or twice you had encountered the battleships known only as the TOG II. Never had you seen the tank that that turret was meant for – the Churchill Black Prince. If Johann saw a tournament with that name upon it, he would leap at the chance to try to fight it.

You recalibrated your aim once again – that tank was crippled, no matter what they did. They fired their gun at you, but all it did was dent the upper casing before it bounced. Once again Erica and Gertrude were already finishing up the process of assembling the shot, the latter taking the initiative and opening the hatch. In seconds the round was loaded and the hatch slammed shut, and then Joachim began to move the tank. Once again the gun of the Matilda bounced off of the upper casing, and within minutes you were on the other side of it.

You stay quiet, watching them as they made to fetch the gun around, and then you sigh

"Firing." the gun boomed.

It struck the engine.

You could only watch in horror as the white flag went up from the Matilda and its crew began to bail. The boy in the commander's cupola, however, instead dived back inside. Moments later he emerged again, clutching his face, and then dragged another boy out after him. The officials were some distance away, watching from safety. Joachim nodded to Minna, who muttered that they would concede, and all you could do was watch them.

.

"I never..." you murmur, before the dam you've maintained for months finally breaks down "I never meant to hurt them!"

You hang your head, looking away from the Panzer IV, and let the tears fall. If the Nachtmaren, or your crew, saw you like this they would surely remove you from the team. You kept yourself strong so you could stay , hoping to fix your mistake, show the others that you were still capable.

You don't notice Erika look at you sadly

"It's okay…" she soothes, lowering you down until your head resting in her lap "I'll help you…"

You are Erika Itsumi, and you've never failed a friend.

Michael Baumann is, in your eyes, an idiot who has no qualms playing dirty if there's nothing else he can do. Unlike his brother, Michael is a lecher, who has in the past managed to spend time waiting for you to finish gym-class simply so he see you, make a pass, and then get shot down bluntly. Never, however, have you seen him in such a pitiful state. Despite his quirks, Maho-san calls him friend, and as such you do the same, despite the vitriol between the two of you.

Now, more than ever, this stupid prat needs your help.

You've heard of Germany's Nachtmaren sports team. A large scale clique formed of some of the best around, and given that despite his faults Michael was a member, he had some worth to the school. On several occasions he'd even managed to tear apart one of the targets without bothering to check the optics. Mind you though, the Panzerjäger I doesn't even have optics, so he simply stood up and fiddled about with the gun for a bit. They, however, made a mistake you never would.

They only trusted strength.

You at least trusted people who were capable of individual thought. From the views of the Jagdtiger's crew, the Nachtmaren were little more than sort strange hive-mind whose only thought was that of victory. Michael's obsession on victory had only increased since the incident, according to his story, and while Johann and the others had conceded their victory in order to assist their beleaguered competitors where they could, they had still ignored him in favour of other matters. With Johann there was at least an excuse, given he was frequently in the presence of Nishizumi-sama, but the others were silent.

They betrayed the trust of a friend, more importantly, they betrayed the trust of a crewmember, heresy in your eyes.

Even if you didn't like him, you still considered a friend, and at the moment, it seemed you were the only one he could rely on. In a way, you muse, gently stroking the crying boy's hair, it was your fault he was in this state - you had asked him if he wanted to talk about it. You were the only help he had at the moment. You had agreed to his preposterous idea, and he had agreed willingly.

If that wasn't him showing his devotion to you, then what was?

Yes, you decide, he was worth your time

"Are you alright now, Michael?" you ask, slipping into the language that he was more familiar with. You hadn't really taken notice of the fact that he had slowly begun to stop crying, but he was reduced to a few dry sobs and mostly sniffling. Were anybody else in a situation like this you would have found them weak. Michael, though – he deserved to have this moment, more than anyone else. He had carried this baggage for over a year

"Yes… Yes, I'll be alright." You hear him mutter. He's managed to at least keep your dress clean – you owe him for that, you're certain, as your mother would kill you if it got sullied. He looks up at you sadly, a small, defeated smile on his face "I suppose you've changed your mind about me, then?" he looked entirely dejected. This was not the cheerful – if perverted – boy you'd known for a year. In response you pull a napkin from the hamper and wipe his eyes

"No," you say softly, with a slight smile "I made the right choice."

He manages to smile, and you slowly realise that you feel warm inside. Is this what it's like to help people, you think, but then you realise that you've never felt this feeling before. You would've had this feeling before when you'd helped people. This feels… unique, as if you have butterflies in your stomach. You give him a small smile of your own, before you look to the sky – it's starting to get dark now, and Johann will most likely be returning home at this very moment. Your parents are liable to get suspicious, even though your phone's on

"Let's get you back home, hm?" you ask, before he nods, face never loosing that slight smile he has at the moment, and then you realise that in his mind, he's scored a great victory of its own right. He's had that smile since the start of your… date, and it's only now you realise that he's managed to do what many high school boys had failed to do – crack open the shell of Erika Itsumi, ice queen extraordinaire. You begin to laugh softly to yourself at that, even as he finishes packing away the blanket and the sandwich boxes.

Even though his face is tearstained, his eyes red and puffy, he still crooks his arm, and you take it

"I'll be alright to walk myself home, dame Erika." He manages to say, as you nod "I'll walk you home."

"Thank you," you reply, as the two of you fall into a quaint silence. The trees let through the dying light of the sun, leaving the area in an almost twilight-esque environment. When it gets late the park usually gets visited by groups of boys who enjoy defacing things – you suppose that's the reason why the Nameless Tanker's hidden away.

The lack of animals mean that the walk is almost entirely soundless, the sights of the park punctuated by the lights that turn on the second it starts to get dark. For now, at least, you're no longer Erika Itsumi, ice queen and loyal adherent of the Nishizumi way, but rather Erika Itsumi, caring friend and helper to those in need. For the moment, your parents can wait for a short while. You need to make certain he's alright

"Erika," Michael asks, his voice sounding hoarse "Can we try this again… properly… next week?"

"Yes," you reply "I'd like that."

Authorial Notice: Today, my friends, is a most glorious day!

Planefag has brought Strike Witches Quest back, with all the glorious trolling and pants on headed idiocy that it entails! Such was my joy, that it influence my naming policy for the chapter as a tribute. I also continued the gag of hat theft, as it is in and of itself a tradition dating back to the Second World War. For added fun, let's see if you can guess the other reference from character names.

The main point of this chapter is to introduce the characters who make the story a tad... darker, I suppose. This is also my first attempt at writing trauma that I actually liked. I originally mentioned Erika being a tsundere in a PM conversation, but at finish up I feel I botched it entirely. So yes, here's your chapter, I hope you enjoy.

In other news, I'm back to writing, so I'll leave the deciding to you.

Also, WT does not like my laptop, at all. Tells me my graphics card's outta date, and if you know tech, you'll know you can't replace a laptops' graphics card.

Any idea on who you want for next chapter?