Chapter 6: The Alchemist
"Tohru, sometimes you care a little too much for me. I'll be fine!"
Today was supposed to be Fernanda's break day. The last of the midterms had finished last week. Her hours at the Safety Team was mostly at the tail end of the week, and she applied, and was approved, to skip training today.
Routine schedule still kicked in, as she was out of bed at 6:00 AM, showered and dressed up by 6:15, and was out for breakfast before 6:30. In the spirit of an insouciant woman, she headed into town for some dorayaki. She still remembered the first time she saw that blue cat eating one on TV back years ago, which led her to try and get addicted to it. Now here she is, taking a shuttle bus just for a piece of bread.
"Ah, Miss Hatano." The girl looking around the same age behind the counter smiled.
"Shizuka!" Fernanda immediately dropped all formality. "Two vanilla and two chestnuts dorayaki please."
"Right away!" The girl wrote down the order on a paper then pinned it on the counter for the cook.
"You know exactly how to make my day, my dear." Fernanda flashed a playful grin. "Any interesting stories from behind the counter?"
"Toh-, I mean, Miss Hatano, I'm still working." Shizuka steered the conversation back, earning the affectionate eye rolls from the staffs in the background. "It's business as usual. Nothing dramatic."
"If nothing good, the second best is always nothing." Fernanda replied.
"What brings you out here so early today, Miss Hatano?"
"Ah, I just miss ya guys." Fernanda shrugged. "Last week's exams were hectic, on top of the usual work and training. I just wanna plop on my bed today, eat some pie, watch some anime and decompress. And what better pie than uncle's homemade dorayaki!"
She shouted loud enough for a sweet but sarcastic response from the back of the kitchen.
"Sometimes, I envy you, dear Shizuka." Fernanda continued the chatters, seeing as the restaurant was still empty. "You've nothing to worry about here, working with uncle and aunt everyday."
"Tch, that's not true." Shizuka shook her heads. "I'm jealous of you too. You're out there doing cool things, while it's the same every day for me. The grass is always greener on the other side."
"You're right, you're right…" Fernanda laughed off. A few minutes later, her orders came. "Until next time. Adios!"
"Take care, Miss Hatano!" Shizuka bade farewell, as Fernanda left.
Back in Blue Division, Shizuka, or Gabriela as she would call her then, was one of the crew members under her command. A nice girl, really good at cooking, dreadful with the violin, but wasn't exactly big on Senshado and just liked her school days happy. Already she had shed off her Senshado persona after graduation and moved back inland.
But what she said was true. Many times Fernanda looked back and thought if only things were to go differently that day, or even if she should have met her at all. But without it, she didn't know if she would have stopped being scoundrel. It's something she struggled with for years since.
It often is difficult to judge the character of today by the character of one's youth.
Such was the case for the girl named Tohru Hatano. She studies material science at the National Institute, with a Senshado elective. Her performance, while not the best, was competent. Professors offered recommendations and even invited her to become research partners, seeing if she wanted to do a graduate program, something she still hadn't decided. It was well-earned. Ten years ago, she almost repeated a grade.
Tohru came from a rich but dysfunctional family. Her father left her but not before she could remember his stupid face. Her devastated mother initially tried her best to raise her alone, but the cracks slipped through with fights of growing intensity and then eventual neglect. Her relationship now with her mother could best be described as 'respectful'.
From then on, she lived without a care. A cycle of sleeping, watching TV, playing games with the occasional going to class if she felt like it. Teachers would complain, but they couldn't make a horse drink the water from the river, so they let her be. She only passed classes through some last minute cramming, a lot of overnight studying and a whiff of her own intelligence, and that much was worth it to her if it meant slacking off the rest of the time. Why should she care about the future if the present already showed its true colors as a massive dickhead?
However, she does care about someone. She was Tohru's middle school classmate and class president, named Riyo Satake.
Riyo was everything Tohru wasn't. She came from a lower-class background, she was studious, she was fierce, she worked hard, she got good grades, everybody loved her. Fernanda at first thought it was just another typical popular girl that everybody fawns over because of how perfect she is, while she did nothing to reciprocate. But Riyo made it a mission not to earn the love of those who already loved her. No, for some reason, she went out all the way to befriend Tohru, in the weirdest possible way too.
"Hey screw-up!"
Yes, it started with a pretty sharp insult.
It was on a September afternoon. Tohru was lazing around outside a convenience store somewhere she couldn't remember, but she remembered very clearly Riyo approaching her brazenly and just laid everything out on Tohru: how she's lazy, that she got bad grades, and that she's not even that good playing games, something Tohru always took pride in. Capped off by a cheerful 'is everything okay, I'd like to help?'.
Tohru was so shocked she couldn't get angry. Turned out, it was part of Riyo's gambit all along, and against all odds, it worked. The friendship began.
After returning back to campus, as she sauntered back to her dorm room, Fernanda noticed someone walking in the distance. It was Ricky. The guy stood out like a sore thumb, being the only man in the Turtle Bay staff, and not to mention he liked to wear colorful shirts, stretching the definition of the staff's business to smart casual dress code, so she easily spotted him.
Fernanda double checked her watch. It was barely 7 AM. Why is he here already?
She looked in the direction he was heading, and she got her answer: towards the hangars.
Unlike hers, his hours were full-time, but the first half of that was not for Safety Team anymore, but rather for whatever project Chiyo wanted him to work on.
Putting two and two together, Fernanda paced herself to surreptitiousness, following Ricky quietly from the distance. The man himself was oblivious, and walked on.
As he arrived at the hangars, he took a turn at the one she was suspecting.
When she arrived at the same corner peeking out, Ricky was standing by the door. He was grabbing his access card when it slipped out of his hand and got him twirling to catch it. She ducked back into cover with a cold wave enbalmed on her temples.
Fernanda took a deep breathe. This was her chance.
She knew something in there was related to Masala. She didn't know exactly what, but she knew it had to be. It is an open fact that there is something secret going on in the background that no one was allowed to know about – no one in this compound who are all tankers of the same generation. And that woman was being way too secretive about this to her. There could be no other explanation in her mind.
She knew this was illegal, and she could be expelled from the team if she was caught. But she didn't care about the team any more than she cared about the truth.
By the time she peeked back out, he wasn't there anymore. No longer thinking, no more time for thinking, she rushed out of her hiding spot.
She made it just in time. The door closer was about to slam it shut on its hinges when her hand stopped it.
Fernanda leaned against the door and pushed it back slowly. She wasn't sure if it was heavier than usual, or the weight of her conscience was tying her down. But the die was cast. Once the door swung halfway in, she stepped fully inside.
And there it was, the infamous Churchill, the relic of blood, the catalyst to a lost generation of tankers. It stood frozen in time at its final seconds of that match. Seeing it preserved in such a state, so real, so material compared to the photos she had seen, it was overwhelming.
Fernanda felt more and more suffocated seeing her friend's tank like this. It was like watching her die a second time.
The dorayaki bag she bought earlier slowly slipped from her fingers and fell onto the ground with a thud.
As their friendship progressed, Tohru understood how wrong she had initially been. There was a reason why Riyo was so beloved: she was the only person in her life willing to listen to her problems with no strings attached. For how much of a mess Tohru was, she never judged, or even told her what to do. She sat, listened and asked to play a Left 4 Dead game afterward to let it all out. All she could want for a friend. Plus, the girl was hilarious, and people who made her laugh until she winced in physical pain were her favorite kind. Not long after, they were basically inseparable.
Middle school days came and went. During the high school entrance examination, Riyo chose either St. Gloriana or Kuromorimine for her wishlist. She didn't get the latter, but had more than enough points for the former. Tohru wished to join her friend in St. Gloriana, but her points were too low for either, or any of the big schools. However, it was enough for Blue Division. It sucked being so far away from her friend, but at least they still did Senshado, even though they didn't actually have a club, so Tohru could still meet her in the field of battle.
Blue Division turned out to be the perfect road of destiny for Tohru, in that it was in an even hotter mess than Tohru was. They were just as disorganized as she was, and quarreled endlessly over literally anything. Not having exactly one and a half avocado in their lunch meal, they'd fight. Classical music over pop or jazz, very typical. Soviet tanks or German tanks are superior, oh boy, that can last for years. It was up to Tohru of all people to instill some discipline into them. However, one thing Tohru would always look upon highly on her former classmates is their good sport. Everyone were sworn enemies of one another when bickering, but were good friends after it. And they were enthusiastic, warm, kind, even to her worst moments, something she never felt deserved. It felt like a home she never had, and like a family she would care for them.
Upon enrollment, Tohru was christened with the name Fernanda, meaning bold voyager, for her adventurous spirit. If it had been after her first Senshado year, she would've been called Traianus instead, because when it comes that sport, she was the Optimus Princeps of Blue Division. In the span of a year, she expanded her school's tank rosters to include more powerful tanks, drilled the tankers with an exotic 'squadron and reconnaissance' doctrine, something of a controversial idea among the students then, as well as regularly employing the dreaded Fabian Strategy against her opponents with a different flavor of Fernanda every time sprinkled on top. And not to mention her contribution towards battle logistics and terrain surveillance, something her successor over half a decade down the line would really come to regret forgetting about, but that's a story for another day.
The results speak for themselves. The first year, Fernanda civilized Count High School so hard that the judge almost thought they were throwing the match then shocked everyone with a stunning victory against Saunders, the mighty giant. They lost to Kuromorimine in the semi-finals, but that's neither surprising nor discouraging. For the first time in a long time, they got somewhere in the leagues and wasn't just a laughing stock or cannon fodder to the bigger schools. Fernanda was hailed as Imperator, and her squadron of tanks were called the IX Legion.
Unfortunately, a string of bad luck followed her subsequent years. After demolishing Chi-Ha-Tan in her second year, they were pitted against Maginot. Initially thought to be an easy win, Fernanda succumbed to the strategies employed by the school's second-in-command, the rising star, and the ironically nicknamed 'Le Petit Caporal', Aurelie, whom Fernanda quickly befriended after. They did make it up by grinding teeth to teeth with Kuromorimine against Pravda in a practice match later, being trustworthy enough for the Kuromorimine commander to entrust the Blue Division with leading a pivotal attack. Her final year was happily lost in the first round to St. Gloriana, commanded by none other than the infamous Masala, who then took out Maginot as well. Nevertheless, those three years were affectionately dubbed 'The Generation of the Underdogs.', for the exceptional performance of the smaller schools.
However, they were also dubbed 'The Lost Generation.' for another reason entirely.
"Fernanda!"
Fernanda heard someone shouting, her bodies shaking too. It was then that she snapped back to Earth and saw Ricky standing in front of her gripping on her shoulders.
"...Oh, it's you Ricky." She muttered.
"Of course it's me. Thank all known laws of aviation you're ok." Ricky expired air out his lungs, letting go before crossing his arms. "What are you doing here? How did you even get in?"
"Oh, right!" She readjusted her scarf. "I tailgated you in!"
"You tailgated..." Ricky clicked his tongue. "Haven't I told you that you aren't allowed in?"
"Yeah, I haven't forgotten. Nevertheless here we are!" She talked back with a casual tone
"The headmistress isn't going to be happy when she hears about this."
"That is if she does. And besides, you can always say it's coercion from me!"
"Are you threatening me, Fernanda?"
"Depends on your perspective…" With a cutesy tone, she shied behind her scarf.
"Please don't make this hard on me." Ricky tiredly responded, unfazed by her fake attitude.
He was getting more and more assertive by the day. Fernanda realized she likely needed to be upfront about it.
"I know Chiyo likely is asking you to do this alone, but believe me, you won't finish it in time. Not in eight months, or twelve."
Ricky bit his lips, looking away.
"I have the same doubt. But how do you know that?" He asked
"You're not a metallurgist, neither do you know much about how Senshado armor works, not even how it fails. " She said. "And I'm not trying to underestimate you, it will be 3 years worth of university courses in 8 months, and that's just about the technical aspect. There will be more to the investigation than just about the armor itself. Unless, somehow you're also a genius at this that I happen to not know about."
"No, you're right…" Ricky conceded. "The last few weeks I was just learning about this. I've been trying to read up on it at home to hopefully cut the times I need to finally begin on this investigation."
That may also be why she saw him this early: he wanted more time.
"You're not paid overtime though, aren't you?" Fernanda questioned, running with the assumption.
"No." Ricky answered, glancing at the whiteboard next to him, the few questions he wrote down a week ago on it, but with no answers yet. "This is all on my accord."
"Wow…" Fernanda nodded. "But this is why I'm here. I have that 3 years of knowledge. I can help you find the answers."
"I…don't know, Fernanda..."
Just a week ago, he was roped into the unsettling territory of investigating and disputing a serious accident that traumatized this country, and now he was asked to illegally accept help. All for someone who just wanted to stay low and get along. This was getting to him.
"I'm sorry I'm putting a lot of pressure on you…" Fernanda said, as she walked over to the Churchill, the same way Chiyo did when she introduced the tank to him. "You see…"
She rubbed her eyes before continuing. "...this tank belonged to a childhood friend of mine."
Ricky didn't respond, his facial expressions unchanged. He knew this information.
"I never believed for a moment that the accident happened simply because of a poor factory worker. It's just too simplistic of an answer. There is more to this story, I couldn't help but feel so." She plead, her two hands clasped together. "Even if you think I'm wrong, please, let me help you. I want to know what the truth is..."
"It's been 3 years already. I want to finally sit down and grieve properly."
The silence that followed rang in her ears. Ricky was in deep thoughts, he looked down, hand on his chin. The hope she banked on his decency and dedication clashed with the fear and shame she had of pushing him so much. It was choking her out, her and her thoughts, consuming every part of her. She begged him, say something.
The small man, noticed the bag of dorayaki she dropped earlier, walked over and picked it up.
"This must be your breakfast." Ricky said, the silence finally broken.
"Yeah…" She replied, as he headed back to her and put it back on her hands.
"It's not good to miss the first meal of the day." Her heart dropped a beat, unsure of the implication until, "I'll fill you in, in the meantime."
"Does that mean?" She couldn't believe it herself. Did he actually mean it?
"Welcome aboard. I'll be relying on you."
The tears almost broke, but she held it back.
"Thank you, Ricky…"
"Don't mention it." He gracefully responded.
"No, really. Thank you." Fernanda exclaimed, but with a faint of a whisper, accompanied by a brief but tight hug. Both of them were spent, ironically just after the sun turned round.
As for Ricky, unlike the last time he had to make an important decision, this was very much against the rules he was specifically given. Weirdly enough, for a man conformable and obedient, instead of guilt or worries, a sense of relief washed over him. In that moment, her contented smile was enough. He could only hope this 'crossing the Rubicon' moment of his wouldn't bite him in the ass later down the line.
"Is this what you have so far?" Once they settled down in the hangar by themselves, Fernanda asked, looking over to the whiteboard.
"Yes." Ricky answered. "I will just summarize what Mrs. Shimada said very quickly. In short, there is a previous final report, unpublished and drastically altered, that was inconclusive, but presented a list of probable causes, one of which being the failure of the armor."
"Not surprising." Fernanda shrugged. The official cause might have sounded convincing to an outsider or an inexperienced player, but for someone who had worked intricately with the unglamorous backend of Senshado logistics, knowing the properties and possible threshold of the armor, it's an infuriatingly doubtful claim to toot to the world.
"The frame of the tank was fine, correct?" Fernanda asked.
"Yeah. It's detailed in the report here. Page 23." He grabbed the report from the desk and handed it to her.
"Thanks. Have some dorayaki, you must be hungry."
While he munched on the confection, she skimmed through the report.
"Hmm, seems right to me." She remarked. "No excessive vibrations or movements of the mantlet?"
"Page 20."
"Any evidence of stress or strain?"
"Not that we know of. Page 29."
"Shell characteristics?"
"Page 41. It's not as much as implied, that's for sure."
She nodded, her eyes continued to dash back and forth between the lines.
"I will admit though, this report, despite being a lot more detailed on the examination of the shells and weeding out other causes like improper assembly," Ricky said. "it didn't touch or deep dive onto things that aren't relevant, such as maintenance records, previous incidents or crew performance."
"At least it's not the poor excuse that was the published version." Fernanda said. "Do we have those records though?"
"I...don't know. I haven't gone through the rest of the documents yet."
"From what you described, it still does seem like the cause is armor failure."
"That's why it's the first and most important question for us to figure out: what caused it to fail on top of the faulty shell.: Maintenance, corrosion or manufacturing?"
"Or, god forbid, all three." Fernanda said. It's not impossible, and even probable, that multiple factors contributed.
"So, anything in mind?" Ricky inquired.
She flipped the page several more times before closing it. "Truth be told, it hasn't rung a bell yet." She answered, tossing the paper back onto the desk where it came from. "However, I do suspect metal fatigue. Considering it happened at the very end of the match of a long tournament, it's the most likely scenario."
"Mm. The classic failure."
"Mm, indeed. As far as I know, metal fatigue works differently on these materials than regular armor, because they are very elastic."
Ricky took down notes, like his usual self.
"However, I don't fully understand the fatigue effects myself. I will have to figure that out." Fernanda added.
"We will have to figure that out." He corrected.
"You're right." She chuckled. "Alright, the day is young. Let's get to it!"
Today was supposed to be a break, but one thing led to another, Fernanda is now in it deep with this. But that's the life of the once delinquent girl. Always unsure of what comes next.
Lighthearted stuff lasts 1 chapter.
And yes, while it was heavily implied in previous chapters, this is pretty much a confirmation that Masala died. Her fate was sort of a coin toss even back in 2019 with the previous fic, between either deceased, comatosed or permanently disabled in some form. Back then, I was less inclined to make the story too depressing (this is GuP after all), but with the revamp, the new theme of the fic, I cannot justify her survival anymore. It's only her death that can compel the characters to do what I want them to do.
It may be dark, but that's the nature of it: There really are no accidents*.Though I do not and will not do gore. That's not the point of the fic, and I'm pretty sure it's against the rules anyway.
I am also beginning to post this fic over to AO3 once I get my invitation, so as to increase exposure. Don't worry, I will still post new chapters regularly, and once it's caught up over there, I will post new chapters on both sites at the same time.
*Sidenote: This is a reference to a workplace PSA I've seen a year ago at work about a chef. If you know what I'm talking about, you have my deep sympathies. If you don't, DO NOT look it up. It will scar you for life.
