Shame

"A strong soul is one who sheds his tears freely, rather than refuses to cry." – 'John Smith', Tank Commander

"Are you certain that Miho would enjoy Tankery as you do?" you ask her, watching carefully for a reaction. The Nishizumi heiress, however, is much like yourself – a stone mask not easily broken. It is one of the reasons that you call her friend, the other being that it was only through her kindness that you had managed to find housing at all when you first arrived. She had countered her mother's protests on the subject in a matter of minutes, strong-arming you and your team into a pseudo-teaching role for her team as compromise "The sport is dangerous, after all. Our incident proved that."

"Miho and I were raised by a long line of tankers, and our mother is widely regarded as the best of her generation, and the pioneer of the Nishizumi Style." She counters calmly, looking out of the window at the Sakura tree that grows out in the garden. Sat out there with a few of her friends is the youngest of the two daughters, Miho "It is the path most expected for her to take. Anything else would most likely upset mother, and that would in turn upset Miho." Her words, while analytical, are not like yours. She truly cares.

While you care for your brother, it's clear Maho dotes upon her younger sibling, that she would do anything to help her

"Even so, Maho, I have seen first-hand what could go wrong in this sport." You remind her, voice firm but not unkindly "Would you let your mother put her in a tank when it's likely there are far superior tanks on the enemy team? When there's a high chance a stray shot could cause a fire to break out inside?" you turn back to look at her "Would you let her go the same way as that boy?" That boy had squealed like a dying pig, clutching his burned face, trying desperately to keep the skin from flaking away

"You are no saint in that department either," she reprimands, regaining her footing on the conversation and forcing you onto the defensive in a single, swift move "Your sister told me that it was you who forced your brother into the Tankery circuit, that you had regaled him with exaggerated tales in order to hook him in. Erika told me last week that she heard him crying to himself. Had she not been there for him, who knows what he would have done!"

"You don't think I realise that, Maho?" you ask quietly, managing to catch her off guard as your own mask drops briefly "You don't think I realise that it was my fault he joined the Nachtmaren to be with his brother, who had told him stories of Germany's greatest team? You don't think I realise that he was broken when took that Scheiß shot?" you ignore the look on her face and continue "Why do you think I'm against Miho joining your team? Look at her, so… innocent. All it takes is one fluke… I don't want something like that to happen again!"

"What makes you think such a thing would happen here?" she demands, all but glaring at you as she crosses her arms "There hasn't been an accident like that in decades! Unlike your European league, we have things called precautions in place as a countermeasure to such things!" you expected the slap to be coming at some point, but you've had worse things hit you in the past – dropped shells on your foot, even the occasional brawl at school – and as such you ignore it almost entirely "Now leave my sister out of this!"

You look away from her briefly, nothing more than a few seconds at most, close your eyes, and you sigh

"Forgive me," you apologise, maintaining eye contact with her – it's one of her quirks, you've noticed, she doesn't like it when a person can't keep eye contact with her during a conversation "I know it was wrong of me to pry into matters that don't concern me, but I don't want something bad to happen." It is at that moment you break eye contact to look out of the window "Michael used to be like her, you know? So pleasant to be around. Teachers praised him, my parents had him on their favourite child pedestal, even the Nachtmaren enjoyed his presence." Your smile turns bitter as you look back to her "And then he fired that shot. The match should have ended the moment that first shot hit, but it didn't. We had to continue, because the tank had to have a non-operational engine to lose.

"Michael fired twice after that." You continue, growing slightly angrier with each word "The second shot went wide, and the third caused the engine to die, und vieles mehr!" Maho knows German, quite well at that, but you doubt she can keep pace with you "Ein Feuer begann, und einer von ihnen wurde darin gefangen. Ihr Kommandant kam heraus, und dann ging er wieder unter zu holen ein Mitglied seines Teams. Sein Gesicht war verschlackt, wenn er kam zurück![1]"

"Even so, Miho's life is her own." She says, voice soft but firm. There's something in her voice that makes your heart tremble slightly, but not in any way that can be described as 'unpleasant'. Such an occurrence is most alien to you "I understand that what you're trying to do is with the best of intentions of mind, but Miho is no relation of yours. Miho has been set on becoming a tanker like our mother and myself since she could walk, and while I too wish that she could stay safe, I know that she is sensible enough to make her own decisions. So please, as a friend, stay out of this." It's a tone you're familiar with, one of a commanding officer who knows entirely what she's doing, and in response you nod once and salute

"… Of course, Junker." You say, the bitter smile slowly being replaced with one that was merely sad. There were other words that would have been more fitting, but you found this particular word to be most adequate for the situation at hand. After all, she is young, and at least her views on the problem plaguing you are far more noble than your own. It is another thing you've noticed over the past year – you and the Nachtmaren tended to handle things through brute force, and when that failed whatever came to hand, such as the time two Kugelblitz had been employed to take out a French team "For you, and only you."

The words felt right, at least.

It doesn't stop her from blinking in surprise and taking a step backwards

"Excuse me?" she manages to ask, clearly dumbfounded by your words, and you look away far too hastily for your own liking. You begin to turn to walk away when you feel a hand clamp onto your shoulder with a vice-like grip, and she manages to spin you on your heel to face her again, and you can see confusion in her eyes "What did you say?" you choose to remain silent, however, and you note that your face is burning. Another peculiar occurrence – it's a rather frosty day, and even with the presence of the sun, it's only lukewarm at best "Johann? What did you just say to me?" you feel only the slightest of smiles creep onto your face, and it is not bitter in the least

"Young lord." You reply, and Maho actually breaks eye contact – but only to roll her eyes, and then you can feel them begin to bore into you "You were the first person here to treat me with respect as a tanker, the first to call me friend, too. I'll stay out of Miho's way, a favour for you, and only you." There's sincerity in your voice, and the warmness on your face feels as though it's intensifying. Maho seems to notice this warm feeling on your face, and for some reason she gains a slight pink veneer to otherwise pale skin. In turn you take notice of this, and the warmth on your face intensifies

"Miss Maho, why is your face flushed?" you ask, absolutely perplexed "Are you feeling unwell?"

It is that moment, Maho does something you didn't expect in the least.

She starts laughing

"Is it something I said?" you ask, finding yourself dumbfounded, to which she continues to laugh. Not a minute ago she was telling you – rightfully so, you admit – to stop pestering in matters that don't concern you. You wait a minute or so for the laughter to die down, at which point she's returned back to her normally formal self, and then it hits you like a bombshell "I'm blushing, aren't I, Junker-san?"

She nods, and you feel slightly numb

"… Michael seems happier around Erika." You say, hastily trying to change the subject "I haven't seen him like this since he first entered the circuit." Maho nods, and then motions to the seats behind you. The sitting room is actually one of the few rooms in the house to have proper seats, or any form of a western feel. The majority of the building is built with a heavy influence from the native culture, and is overall, actually a pleasant blend. The seats in the sitting room are squat, blocky affairs that have backs that only come up to the base of your shoulder blades, a chaimosee brown in colouration, and the legs are barely visible metal bands, as thick as your hand when their held flat.

Maho sits on the two-cushion settee, with its back to the window, while you sit in one of the two chairs set around the glass top coffee table

"You never told me much about this Nachtmaren you used to be a part of," Maho states as she crosses one leg over the other and reclining slightly, tearing the metaphorical rug from under your feet. She's staring quite intensely at you now, bistre eyes boring far deeper into you than any other time you've had a talk. She knows she's already got the home-field advantage in this particular battle, and flaunts it subtly by placing her right hand on her knee, and then resting her left arm on the settee arm, hand hanging off the edge "But from the sounds of it they sound badly mannered. Can you tell me about them properly?" you close your eyes and sigh at the request, but nonetheless she's treat you as a friend, rather than a utensil like lady Shiho has – you owe her that much

"The Nachtmaren were founded when the Berlin Wall was taken down as a means of placating any Eastern Germans who were not particularly pleased by the outcome of their falling out with Western Germany." You begin, sinking into your seat and reclining "Initially, it was an extension of the local Tankery network, and then as time went on it was integrated fully into the sport – but only in Germany. Nowadays, the Nachtmaren are just a team – a particularly large team that only takes those who do extremely well, but a team nonetheless – but they don't play by the proper rules.

"The original version of the Nachtmaren was built around stress relief, with teams of angry young men and women in big machines and an enclosed space in which to beat the life out of one another. There were no rules to it then, just a particularly nasty circuit where the strong were hailed as heroes. There was no joy in the teamwork then, just the thrill of a fight. Now there are teams who contain people who will work side by side, but back then it wasn't uncommon for teams to break apart to prolong the fight, while in the middle of a fight. The only way for there to be a 'winner' was there to be one tank left after it had all gone to pot.

"My team and I were noticed at middle school," you continue "Back when we were in the beginners circuit for the sport. We could only use tankettes loaded with paint-" you feel a smile cross your face at that particular memory. Things were much simpler then "-and one of the original members of the Nachtmaren was commentating. We were only allowed to use the original generation of Tankettes, from the Second World War, as the newer ones, like the Wiesel, were considered too advanced. Nena and Myself were teamed up in a Te-Ke, Minna was in a TKS with… I can't remember his name, Young or something. Gertrude and Erica were in a T-27. The man said that we had performed exceptionally well, given the machines we were using. The truth of the matter was that we didn't have a clue on what we were doing, and most of our hits were flukes.

"And so it was that we found ourselves with invitations to join a junior's league. We came second while using a Panzer III, the winners having done so while using a R35. They had hidden away the entire fight until we were not expecting them, and then they tore down the wall separating us and removed our tracks before darting away." Maho nods as you take a slight pause "It was around that time that we were not suited to the hustle and bustle of active tank combat. we were narrow minded then, focussing only upon the specifications of the tank, how thick the armour was and the like, not caring for the practical application of the tank at all. Our victories came from sheer stubbornness, and as we realised it, Nena took the shot, and managed to lock up their turret. I'll never know how she did it.

"On points, they won. In execution, we won." You conclude "While they won, it was a draw in most eyes, and both teams were offered the chance to join the Nachtmaren. They came aboard this ship alongside us – they've had that piece of scrap Indien-Panzer since we acquired the Jagdtiger."

Maho looks at you, and you cannot tell if it's pity in her eyes, or something else.

For several minutes, she is silent, contemplating what you've told her of your past, and then she goes to start talking

"Michael joined up later, then?" she asks, and you nod

"The boy Minna was teamed up with transferred onto the Indien-Panzer." You explain "With him not on the team we were down a gunner. I began to tell stories to Michael to impress him into joining us, and eventually he did." Your voice shakes slightly, and you realise it only too late that your mask is slipping "It was the wrong thing to do, but I was younger then, how was I to know what would happen?" this is a side of you that you dislike strongly. You do not like being seen as weak, your father would have your head if he caught you being something less than what he expected of you "He was allowed in at my request when our original team was fractured – that was the second year I was there. In the first year we used a stagecoach." Oh how you loathed that T-28. A mobile barn – a moderately speedy one, to be sure, but still a barn – and it lacked any punch.

That 76mm KT-28 could only get you so far

"You're crying." Maho states, and you can't place the tone in her voice, and you stare at her incredulously for a few seconds before she gets to her feet and walks around the table to you, and rests a hand on your shoulder. There's a small, reassuring smile on her face "You don't need to tell me anymore, mein freund. I won't put you through such misery any longer." There is a strange feeling in your chest at her words, a warmth that you can't describe. You feel tears begin to well, and within seconds you find yourself crying a torrent. Maho pats your shoulder, and your heart soars for less than a second as she turns away and walks into the kitchen, emerging a few moments later with a few tissues

"My thanks." You manage to tell her. Maho merely keeps smiling and returns to her seat, this time laying down with a cushion propped up against one side as she leaves you to your crying. Normally, her mother would scold her for being so lax in the presence of guests, that such behaviour was unbecoming of her heir, but Shiho Nishizumi is not aboard the Kuromorimine, her presence required on the mainland for a week at the least – normally, the meetings she attended took her the better part of two months if they pertained to Sensha-do, which this one does.

You look out of the window for a few seconds, a watery smile on your face as you attempt to stop crying.

It is not long after you fall into a fitful sleep.

It is also not long before you wake up to find somebody pinching your cheek.

You proceed to find yourself staring into bistre-hued eyes

"You have such pretty eyes…" you mumble, only mildly surprised. Having grown to having people all but head-butting you when you wake up Only now do you realise that you're not sat up in the seat, but rather laid down in it, with your legs dangling over the right arm and your head dangling over the left. Sadly, having your head just hang limply like it must have been leaves disorientated, and your words sound slurred – particularly to you. It is at that moment that you realise just what you said to your commander, and your eyes dart open. You note she's blushing like she was earlier as you begin to ramble like a drunkard "PleaseforgivemecommanderIoversteppedmybounds-" you are promptly shushed by Maho placing a finger to your lips, an odd look in her eyes

"No, you didn't." Maho tells you, sounding somewhat reserved about the whole matter. In the year that you've known her, you have never seen her quite like this – she sounds lost, even moreso than you did but a while back. Maho remains quiet for a few seconds, pondering on what to say next, before she speaks again "I'm not Commander Nishizumi today, am I?" a few more seconds as she chooses her words and phrasing "I am me. You are you, and Miho is Miho." There is a familiar glint in her eyes as she states the last part, that of a protective sibling. Someone unlike yourself, given that you were the cause for his traumatic experience. A great sense of shame overcomes you, and Maho speaks once again, drawing you from your reverie "You have nice eyes, too… and a smile, when you choose to have one." You see a grudgingly-given blush on her face as she removes her finger, which was one of the things keeping you mute while she talked. The other being respect.

She looks at you for a few seconds more, and for the briefest of moments you swear you could have seen her smile slightly, if only for the briefest of moments.

You gulp nervously

"I suppose I'd best… say something nice about you, then?" you manage to say, and that small smile returns for a few seconds as she nods in confirmation. Why is she being so nice to you? What have you done to deserve her being nice to you? Not even an hour or two back you were sticking your nose where it didn't belong! "The sun and moon together wish that they were as beautiful as you, mein Junker." Though it's enough to cause her to blush quite visibly, you find yourself thinking it was quite lacking – however, the art of poetry was never a particularly strong point to you, so that's up in the air for all to grab at "Is that good enough for you, Maho?" the peculiar warmth in your chest intensifies as you find yourself blushing, and you give a nervous smile to her. When she returns it, you find that warmth has become a most pleasant feeling

"I- Is that so?" Maho queries softly, leaning back in her seat, a hand covering her mouth, as if she's thinking of something "Why, thank you." Her eyes sparkle slightly, and you're not certain you enjoy that too much "There is to be a small party once she comes back, at the end of the week. Erika already asked if Michael would be coming along with her, and he agreed. Perhaps you come along with me?" her eyes posess a peculiar glint, one that can't make up its mind on what it wants to be "If only to repay my kindness in persuading mother to let you stay." There is a thought in the back of your head that she's trying to distract you from your shame, but you ignore it. If that is what she wants, you owe it to her to let her help in her own way

"I'm not certain I have anything to do that day, Maho." You tell her, a small smile on your face "I'd be delighted to accompany you."

Maho smiles back at you, and you consider your words to be the truth.

Authorial Notice:

Well, I'm down one big toe. Not toe nail, but the actual toe. I can't stand on my own toe feet properly. The reason being this - I was upset enough to have not notice I dropped a seven foot segment of iron fencing on my foot until several hours after the fact. I believe the reason I was upset was due to the fact that my home had been burgled, and nobody had claimed that fence for scrap despite it being in a skip. Was a nice fence, too. If you're wondering how I know it was seven feet - I'm six foot four, I know seven feet.

However, that is not important. What is, is that I am back, and I wrote this chapter in a hurry. It really shows. I'll let anyone who decides to do a review/vote decide the next chapter. As an added note, due to work, I can't spare the time to write every chapter myself. My 'group' appear to have forgotten about this account entirely, and they have problems of their own. If you want to help, just send a PM.

My thanks to anyone still reading this.

~C