Chapter Text
“You know, I’m very pleased you agreed to this tea party.” Orange Pekoe said politely, leading her through the ornate halls. “I know our predecessors enjoyed this sort of thing from time to time, but I haven’t heard much from anyone in the last couple months.”
“Not at all, thank you for the invitation. And thank you for extending your invite to Koume as well.” Erika replied, satisfied with the gentle small talk for now. Koume nodded politely by her side, emphasising her agreement. “I must say though, I’m surprised to hear that. Have you not even spoken to Pravda?” The two schools had always enjoyed a close partnership during Darjeeling’s time.
This was probably the second or third time she’d visited the Ark Royal. It was a bit smaller than Kuromorimine in size, but more than made up for it in grandeur. In imitation of some historical period (Edwardian? Georgian? Erika was no expert), the areas dedicated to education and tankery were ornate and extravagant, with white walls, heavy red curtains over tall windows, and brass detailing all over.
Koume, by her side, was taking it all in with wide eyes. She’d never stepped foot on the Ark Royal before. In fact, she’d probably never boarded any other schoolships. Compared to St Gloriana’s, the Graf Zeppelin felt a lot more spartan.
“Apparently not!” Orange Pekoe went on. “I don’t even know who Katyusha chose as her successor, aside from the fact that Klara declined the position.”
“That’s a surprise, I’d have thought she’d take it up for sure.” Erika said truthfully. She knew of nobody else in Pravda notable enough to take over for Katyusha and Nonna, and was under the impression that Klara was being trained for the role.
“I worry that she might be trying to take after Nonna a little too strongly.” Pekoe replied with a smile. “Let’s hope she doesn’t find another little dictator to follow.”
Erika laughed. “Spare us that, at least!”
“Oh, by the way - I hope you don’t mind,” Pekoe added as she reached the door. “Your meeting coincided with an unexpected visitor.”
“I suppose not?” Erika said, glancing over at Koume, although she was a little put-out. Wasn’t she the honoured guest here?
Orange Pekoe opened the door into one of St Gloriana’s tea rooms, holding it open and gesturing for Erika to head inside. She nodded appreciatively and stepped through.
Sitting at a little table, teacup elegantly held in an equally elegant hand, was Darjeeling, in her full red-coated regalia. She was a touch taller, her smile a fraction more mature, but her posture, the knowing twinkle in her eyes, was the same as always. It was like looking backwards through time to the previous year.
“Erika! So lovely to see you again!” She said with a gentle smile, raising her cup in greeting.
“D-Darjeeling!” Erika replied, a little flustered. More than ever, she was thankful for Koume’s insistence that she get herself cleaned up beforehand. Darjeeling had a certain… presence to her, that always made her feel a little underdressed. Not to mention under playful scrutiny. She definitely would have preferred advance warning, if it was Darjeeling she’d be spending time with.
“My, I thought I had the pleasure of having tea with just two beautiful women, but instead there’s three!” Darjeeling remarked, looking Koume’s way. “Lovely to meet you, by the way.”
Erika felt a heat rising in her cheeks. A beautiful woman? Surely even Darjeeling knew how that sounded, especially given how many people knew about Erika’s… relationship history.
“L-Likewise, Darjeeling… My name is Koume.” Koume introduced herself, clearly just as taken aback.
“It’s good to see you,” Erika said truthfully, “but it’s certainly a surprise, I heard you were studying in Britain. What brings you here?”
“I admit, as uncouth as it was of me, that I rather forced myself upon all three of you equally.” Darjeeling replied, though her expression held no apology. “I had some free time from my studies, and thought I might drop in on my beloved underclassmen in full uniform. Imagine my surprise when I discover that an exhibition match with Kuromorimine is about to begin!”
Now the heat in Erika’s cheeks was caused by shame. “Ah… you were spectating, then?”
“By a stroke of good fortune, I was.” She gestured to the table. “Please though, take a seat!”
Erika and Koume crossed the room, with Orange Pekoe behind them, and the trio sat down at Darjeeling’s behest. At each place at the table, there was a teacup and saucer, and a three-tiered stand of plates with an assortment of British treats. At the bottom seemed to be savoury items, and at the top small desserts. Erika eyed it warily, certain there would be some etiquette-based rules to its use.
“A fine match, no?” Orange Pekoe asked, pouring them all a cup of tea in those delicate little blue-and-white teacups. “I hope it was as thrilling to watch as it was to play.”
“Ah, nothing quite compares to getting one’s hands dirty themselves… Wouldn’t you say, Erika?”
“...Quite.” Erika replied, doing her best to take no offence from the playful barb.
“But it was quite the match! I dare say that Maho might not have delivered such a courageous killing blow.”
“Rather!” Orange Pekoe replied. “I confess, I should have realised you wouldn’t deploy the same tactics as your predecessor. You certainly took me by surprise!”
Darjeeling nodded sagely. “To say nothing of your lieutenant’s heroic sacrifice to secure your victory! You had me at the very edge of my seat.”
“Thank you, you’re too kind.” Koume said warmly. “Th-the tea is delicious by the way, we don’t have anything like this back home.”
While Koume spoke, Erika stewed.
What are they trying to say with all these riddles? I wish they’d just speak plainly, I feel like I’m being made fun of.
“Speaking of surprises…” Erika began, trying to regain control over the conversation, “I really felt like we were playing against a very different St Gloriana’s today. The diversions, the refusal of high ground, the actions of that one Cromwell…”
“Well… ‘variety is the spice of life’, wouldn’t you say?” Orange Pekoe asked, clearly quoting some saying in English.
“I couldn’t agree more, Pekoe.” Darjeeling replied with a conspiratorial smile, like there was another conversation taking place between them that Erika and Koume weren’t privy to. “I admire how quickly she’s made this place her own, you know.”
“And what a place! It’s beautiful.” Koume continued.
It was definitely a good idea to bring her, Erika decided. She was handling all the niceties she herself forgot in her inelegance.
“‘An Englishman’s home is his castle’, no?” Pekoe chimed, though so far as Erika could tell the phrase didn’t make any sense in the context. “But yes, I have betrayed our school’s sensibilities a little by employing somewhat more… Unorthodox strategies.”
She reached into the three-tiered stand at her place on the table, retrieving a small sandwich with a yellow filling. “Do please tuck in, by the way. These coronation chicken sandwiches are delightful.”
Glad for the clear instruction, Erika quickly did so, and took a bite.
Honestly, it was quite bland compared to what she was used to. But the mild flavours present were surprisingly nice.
“So… How are your studies in England?” Erika asked cautiously. It seemed odd to continue discussing the finer points of the match with Darjeeling here, and asking her questions at least took some of the attention away from herself.
“Ah, it’s a delightful time! Wouldn’t change it for anything. I do confess though, there was a bit of an adjustment period for me. As it turns out, British culture really has moved on since the days of King George!”
Georgian, then? Erika made a mental note.
“Is that so?”
“Most certainly! And taking my studies entirely in English has been a fun challenge. That said, it has been rather trialling to be kept so far apart from Kay, and it’s certainly been a sore spot for her as well.”
“Kay?” Koume questioned politely.
“Mm, yes.” Darjeeling replied with a sip of her tea. “Kay and I have been together for a year or so now.”
Wait, what??
Erika was shocked. For a start, she hadn’t really known them to spend that much time together. Secondly, given the way she behaved around Orange Pekoe and well… Everyone else, she really assumed that she must have been single. And third, well… She didn’t really expect Darjeeling to be interested in someone so ‘uncouth’.
“You seem surprised, Erika.” Darjeeling said with a light chuckle.
“Ah sorry, I didn’t-” Erika began awkwardly, realising that she’d let too much show in her expression. “You never mentioned before, is all.”
“I promise I made no secret of it!” Darjeeling replied with a laugh. “Maho was fully aware at least, but I suppose she was never one to ‘kiss and tell’.”
Erika’s mind translated the English. Kiss and… what?
The alarm must have been plain on her face, because Darjeeling’s smile only widened.
“Just an expression, mind. Maho didn’t gossip about the affairs of others, is what I mean.”
“I… see.”
“Plus, she and I were never exclusive, you understand.” Darjeeling continued, unabashed. “We may have met up fairly regularly, but we always spent lots of time apart, attending different schoolships as we did.”
“Of course.” Erika said, unsure of how else to reply but feeling compelled to say something.
“Both of us are very passionate women, you see,” Darjeeling went on, apparently entirely without shame, “so we decided early-on to be frank about our needs. After all, relationships are a tricky path to tread, from my experience… ‘The course of true love did never run smooth’, or so I’m told.”
“Ah! I know that one. Shakespeare, right?” Orange Pekoe cut in eagerly. Clearly she was used to Darjeeling saying such embarrassing things.
Meanwhile Erika herself was surely as red as the St Gloriana’s uniform at the discussion, and a glance over at Koume told her that she wasn’t faring much better.
Her gaze returned to Darjeeling, whose head tilted to one side while her pale blue eyes penetrated right to the back of Erika’s head.
“Wouldn’t you say?” She asked.
The pointed nature of the comment was impossible to ignore.
Me and Miho.
“You-” Erika began, flinching in her seat, embarrassment flipping to indignation in a heartbeat. Before she could say something she’d regret though, she remembered her place and took a shaky breath. “You’re… very well informed.”
“I hear bits and pieces.” Darjeeling dismissed breezily. “Lots of girls in the high school tankery circuit saw me as something of a confidant. You can be sure that, like Maho, I certainly don’t kiss and tell.”
“I apologise for letting her pick on you,” Orange Pekoe said kindly. “She’s quite incorrigible.”
“You wound me, Pekoe!” Darjeeling replied, in mock distress - though of course, without even a momentary loss of composure. “Perhaps my time in Britain has robbed me of my finer sensibilities.”
Erika bit her tongue and tried to let it go. Clearly everyone at the table already knew, but this was the last thing she needed to be judged about right now.
“Please trust that I meant no offence - merely commiserating with you about the complexities of love. It takes a bold hand to seize a good thing, no?”
“I… hope things work out with you and Kay.” Koume said politely - awkwardly. Erika glanced over at her, but she didn’t return the look.
“Trust that love weathers all storms, dear.” Darjeeling replied softly. “Kay and I are in no danger, even though we miss each other terribly.”
“That’s… Good.” Erika forced. She meant it of course. Darjeeling was a friend despite her comments, and she liked Kay well enough - though only from a distance. Up-close, she found her a bit too intense and too talkative.
“Still, I suppose I’d best make my exit.” Darjeeling announced with a sad sigh. “It wouldn’t do well for me to outstay my welcome, and I know my beloved school has moved on without me.”
“Surely you’re not leaving already?” Orange Pekoe said quickly. A little too quickly.
“Ah, not just yet, my dear. I simply don’t want to step on your toes when it comes to tankery! It’s not my place after all. I’ll spend the evening investigating some old haunts and get back to you later, okay? I’ll stay for the rest of the week at least.”
“Of course, of course.” Orange Pekoe said, clearly relieved. “Do enjoy yourself, and I’ll dedicate myself fully to the guests I anticipated!”
“It’s been a pleasure, Erika, Koume.” Darjeeling addressed them each in turn, curtseying slightly with each name. As she motioned to Erika, she added a wink that sent the heat right back into her cheeks. “Do please look after yourselves, and if you find yourself in my neighbourhood, I hope you won’t be a stranger.”
“N-not at all.” Erika replied, though she really couldn’t imagine finding herself in the UK by chance.
And with that, she finished her tea, set it down on her saucer, and made her exit through a back door.
All three of them let out a breath when the door was finally closed. Orange Pekoe looked at them both, then laughed a genuine laugh at their shared reaction, raising a hand to cover her mouth. Koume joined in, and even Erika allowed herself a chuckle.
“Quite the force of nature, isn’t she?” Orange Pekoe remarked, after they’d calmed down.
Erika didn’t quite know how to respond to that without insulting Darjeeling in some way. And in present company that didn’t feel like a good idea, so she kept her mouth closed.
For a moment, Pekoe sat across from them in solitary silence. She looked alone, off-centre, like an actor at the edge of the spotlight on an empty stage. Then, seemingly shaking off the past, Orange Pekoe cleared her throat gently and sat herself up straighter. When she regarded them again with her cool blue eyes, the gentle and deferential Orange Pekoe that had been with them for high tea was over, and the stronger, more confident version of her from the match earlier seemed to take her place.
She even looked a little taller, all of a sudden.
“In any event, thank you very much again for agreeing to this match.”
“Really, it’s nothing.” Erika replied, taken aback by the sudden shift. “It’s good practice for the championships coming up.”
“Mm, quite. And a very good opportunity for my first-years to get a proper taste of battle before the stakes get higher. Wouldn’t you agree?”
With a pang of awkward guilt, Erika remembered that she hadn’t taken 034 or 035 on this outing. In fact, she’d made sure that her main force were piloted by some of her most experienced crews…
“I’d say the same.” She lied. “What do you think about the tournaments to come? I’m surprised to see such a different St Gloriana’s given the position Darjeeling left behind.”
“The prestige of Darjeeling’s victories against Oarai is a heavy weight on my shoulders, it’s true.” Pekoe replied, taking another sip. “Still, I think that…” She paused for a moment.
“I think that none of my victories would be earned if I did nothing but stand on the shoulders of giants, you know?”
“You mean to start from scratch?” Erika asked incredulously.
“Not quite that far!” Pekoe laughed gently, taking a scone. She kept talking as she prepared it, spreading first a layer of clotted cream, and then then a dollop of jam. “I don’t mean to utterly destroy everything that came before me, of course - only that… As much as I desperately want to lead my girls in red to absolute victory, I refuse to do so without being true to myself.”
Erika awkwardly copied Pekoe’s actions while she listened. By her side Koume did the same, but she spread the jam first.
Meanwhile, Pekoe’s words trickled deep into the guilt-ridden recesses of her mind.
Being true to herself? She’s already finding her own way...
She took a bite of the scone. It tasted sweet in a delicate way. Nice enough, but Erika couldn’t help but wonder if she would have liked it more with the jam first.
“Plus beyond the philosophical, we both know that Miho and the University match have changed the game, perhaps forever. Our old tactics won’t beat her, and we’ll never win again if we don’t change with the times.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Erika said truthfully. Thoughts and ideas were germinating slowly in the dry, acidic soil of her stubborn mind.
Their discussion continued a lot longer than Erika noticed, until the second time all of them stifled yawns and they noticed that the bright blue of the sky had given way to the faint orange glow of approaching sunset.
Despite her expectations and the early tensions, Erika had enjoyed herself well enough in their little tea party, and it had almost lessened the sting of her disgraces. That said, delicate, formal activities like these really didn’t suit her well. As stereotypical as it sounded for her to say, a stein suited the shape of her hand much better than a teacup.
She resolved internally to invite Pekoe to the Graf Zeppelin next time - put her on the back foot, for once.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Koume was quiet on the way back, and this time Erika drove her. By way of thanks for all her help earlier in the day, she said, but going into any more detail brought that moment with the… change of clothes to mind, and for some reason Erika felt strange even thinking about it.
When they arrived back, Erika dropped Koume off at the dorms, before driving back to the hangars to return the truck. The sun was fully setting now, with long shadows and a red-bathed haze casting nostalgic memories in Erika’s mind of the years spent here training late into the night.
So strong were those memories that when she turned off the ignition, she could almost hear the distant rumble of tank engines in the dist-
Boom!
The sound of a tank’s main gun brought Erika straight to alert. That wasn’t a memory.
She squinted into the darkening fields beside the hangar. In the distance, a pair of tan shapes moved about erratically.
Retrieving the spyglass she always carried from her jacket’s inner pocket, she took a closer look.
034 and 035.
Why is it always them? She wondered to herself. Still, she couldn’t fault them for their enthusiasm, and they weren’t doing anything wrong so there was no need to chew them out this time.
Erika turned to leave. She was tired to her bones, both physically and socially. They didn’t need her guidance right now, and she had no reason to offer it.
She made it about ten paces. An uncharacteristically playful thought occurred.
Maybe I could give them a bit of a scare. Rile them up a bit. She thought to herself. It would be good training after all, to confront them with a totally unexpected situation.
Or maybe this is just for me.
Still unseen, Erika made her way into the darkened hangar next to the training ground. Rows of mighty panzers lay silent without crews, imposing machines all under her command.
The recovery crews had done a fine job of getting all the tanks back in their proper places quickly while she and Koume had been away. Tomorrow repairs and repainting would need to take place - but for now, it was just nice to have everything back where it belonged.
With steps she could have taken in her sleep, she crossed the rows to her own Tiger II. She reached up, running a hand along her mangled track guard as she walked down the tank's length to the rear. Even battle-damaged, she was beautiful, formidable, and virtually unstoppable - in the right hands.
In my hands.
Easily, Erika clambered up the side to the top of the tank. There were other ways of getting inside, but force of habit had her climb in through the commander's cupola, then down through the inside until she was sitting in the driver's seat.
It had been a long time since she'd taken this role. But Maho had mandated that all crew must have basic competence with all positions in the tank, so that they could best understand the needs and limitations of their fellows. And Erika, for her part, had crewed a lot of tanks, in a lot of positions.
With a roar the engine turned over, and through the narrow viewport she eased her metal monster forward, turning slowly to bring her parallel to the driveway between tank rows. The absence of a commander's 360-degree view was stifling and awkward, harder than she remembered. But she'd know the way out of this hangar blindfolded.
Once out of the hangar, she rumbled as slowly as a Tiger II could away from open ground, into a spot where she anticipated she'd be able to see 034 and 035. Then, she scrambled back up into the turret, switching on the radio and letting it broadcast openly on her way to the gunner’s chair just next to her own. She swept the turret around, looking for two small tan tanks trundling about in the darkness.
No sign.
So she dipped back down to the driver's seat and repositioned, before trying again at the gunner’s chair. 034 and 035 chattered between themselves, and Erika tuned it out.
No sign.
It took her two more tries to get it right - a laborious process and one she'd normally find incredibly annoying, but there was something very… therapeutic about going through the motions like this. She could empty her mind of everything not in front of her, just enjoy the sounds, sights and smells of the familiar, cramped interior and perfect her position.
Once she could finally see them both easily, she stepped out of the gunner's seat, fetching a shell from the loader's rack (high explosive, for a better scare) and loading it into the breach. Then it was back to the scope.
She aimed carefully. Of course she didn't want to actually hit them, but it had to be close to do its job.
Click.
The first “boom” rocked the tank backwards slightly. The second, a fraction of a second later, accompanied an eruption of dirt and dust that consumed both tanks for a moment.
Immediately after came the screaming. Two radio operators panicking as they scrambled to relay their commander’s words.
“What happened, what happened?”
“Was that you guys?”
“No!! Did your engine explode or something?”
“No! Shiena says she just stalled, the tank’s working fine!”
“Then what was it?”
If this were a normal operation, she would have been furious with their inability to keep cool under fire, but in a secret training operation after hours… She could just enjoy the reaction.
She slipped out of the gunner’s chair again, hefting another high-explosive shell into the breach.
Through the scope she could see 035 racing away as the dust cleared, with 034 right behind on account of their stall.
She fired again.
Another cloud of dirt overwhelmed the pair of small tanks.
Their reaction was just as entertaining the second time. Amidst their frightened babbling though, a revelation:
“Haruki, I think we’re under attack!”
“Attack?? From another school?”
“I don’t know! Tell Nozomi!”
A moment’s silence.
“She thinks you’re right! She says we gotta fight back!”
“Wh-what!?” -
“And she’s right! We’ve gotta protect the honour of our school!”
“... Okay!”
Erika chuckled at their dramatic reaction. An unprofessional, unladylike, un-Nishizumi-like grin spread across Erika’s face at the chaos she’d wrought. The fear she elicited, the panic, the ten girls now working together to try and stop just her alone…
A third shell, patiently loaded and fired.
This time their reaction was tighter, neither tank stalled, and nobody screamed.
“Isuko saw a muzzle flash! Over by the hangar!”
Erika blinked. She was genuinely impressed that in just three shots, they’d gone from being totally unprepared to locating her. Still, she wasn’t done having fun yet.
She slipped back down to the driver’s chair, repositioning herself with a mental note of the other girls’ heading to guide her. The failing light of evening would make her hard to spot from this distance, as unlike them she wasn’t illuminated by the moon. Then, it was back to the turret for more shooting.
Her fourth shot came in very close. Now that they were heading for where she’d been, she had a much better shot and they were quite a lot closer now. The exploding shell shook the tracks of 035, and it swerved wildly out in response.
“Sheiße!”
At least their German language lessons were paying off.
“That didn’t come from the same place! Where did they go?”
The back-and-forth continued. It wasn’t sustainable of course, they could move so much faster than she could and she lost a tremendous amount of time every time she had to switch places, but she managed to move once more before they had her in their sights.
“It’s… it’s one of ours! A Tiger II!”
“You said it was an Oarai spy?”
“I just guessed! I-I… Wait, Isuko says maybe it still is! What if they stole one of our tanks?”
“Wait, that’s Captain Itsumi’s tank!”
“Unforgivable! Let’s show them a piece of Kuromorimine steel!”
Erika laughed out loud, reaching into the magazine for another shell. A high-school AP round, this time. They were too close for the HE to have such an effect, and they did outnumber her two-to-one, after all.
Or ten to one.
She lined up her next shot. For some reason they had insisted on an extremely tight formation this entire time, making it child’s play to keep them both in sight. Flashes of light as she pointed her gun their way told her she was receiving return fire. Sadly, both shots went wide.
Her own shot, rusty as she was in the gunner’s chair missed as well. Quick as she could, she nipped out of her chair and went for another shell. The problem with this setup was that for as long as she wasn’t in the gunner’s chair, she had no idea where they might turn up next. And as they got closer, it got harder and harder to predict them.
When she finally got back into position, another fresh shell loaded, they were well out of sight. She had to swing the turret all the way around to the left to find them this time. To their credit, they were clearly planning to flank her. For the best really, they had no hope of penetrating her frontal armour with those little guns, even from point-blank range.
She wasn’t burdened with that particular problem, though.
Her next shot scraped past 035. She cursed to herself, the returning rush of battle fraying her steely nerves.
She rushed to reload again, almost dropping the shell in her haste to get back in the gunner’s seat.
Only 035 was visible now. And getting very close.
034 had to be somewhere, but without the perspective of the Commander, she had no idea where.
Finally, they split up! She thought to herself, rewarding them for their tactical deduction.
Still, it couldn't save them both.
She fired, this time striking 035 square in the middle of its hull. The panzer III shuddered under the impact, before sensors kicked in and killed the engine. The little white flag popped out a second later.
One down, one to go.
But 034 had disappeared. And by the time she was ready to fire again, it could have been anywhere.
She swung the turret around as quickly as she could, desperate to catch sight of them before they closed-
A shell clanged off her rear armour.
“Come on!” She yelled, mostly at herself, as she tried to face the right direction.
“Surrender!!” A voice yelled. But it wasn't from the radio. It was from behind her, over the roar of the engines.
She'd been caught.
“Come out with your hands up! Or we'll climb over there and arrest you!”
Arrest??
Erika laughed. She couldn’t help it. The tension of the chase, the weirdness of the meeting with St Gloriana’s, the frustration of the exhibition match - it all came out in a laugh, alone in her tank. She’d lost! But she was laughing.
When she was finally done she sighed, slipping back down to the driver’s seat and cutting the engine, before clambering back up past her familiar commander’s chair and up out the top hatch.
She climbed out and stood tall atop her tank, unable to keep the smirk off her face as she looked down at the girls who had “beaten” her.
Five all-too familiar girls huddled together atop their own tank, staring fearfully up at her. The Commander, Isuko, was-
She was pointing a flare gun at her!
Realisation dawned on their faces.
“C-c-commander!?” Isuko stammered in astonishment, whipping the flare gun behind her back in a flash.
“You caught me, 034.” She said simply. “I guess I’m under arrest?”
“W-we thought… We thought we were under attack!” 034’s driver, Shiena, cried indignantly. Off to the side, 035’s crew sprinted over from their wreck, apparently also recognising Erika only when they drew close.
“So I see. Please, don’t ever point a flare gun at anyone again. Even a spy.”
Isuko’s face flushed red with shame.
“I-it’s not loaded…!” She said, as quietly as she could.
“That being said… Well done, all of you.”
Ten huge pairs of eyes looked up at her in confusion.
“It’s nice to see all of you taking the opportunity to run some drills. You’re not in any trouble, obviously.” She added, keen to put them back at ease. “But you responded very quickly to my little trick! I was worried that you’d rush me together from the front, but you split up to get the better of me. I’m impressed.”
“Umm… Thanks!” 035’s commander yelled from the ground.
“Still, I suppose that the fun’s over now. Give me a minute and I’ll get the Tiger II started up again.”
“Wait…” 034’s radio operator hopped down off their tank and made her way over to one of the Tiger II’s side hatches. “Was it just you in there?”
Erika looked down at ten pairs of astonished eyes and laughed again at their surprise and unintentional praise.
She cut it short with a cough. She didn’t like her laugh. Coarse like a dog’s bark.
“It… was nothing. What drill were you running over there, anyway?”
“Ah, we were just…” The girls looked about themselves, clearly trying to work out the most appropriate definition for what they were doing.
“A combat exercise!” Offered 035’s radio operator helpfully. That earned enthusiastic nods from her compatriots.
“You were duelling?” Erika asked, by way of clarification.
Less enthusiastic nods.
“Well, that is valuable experience…” Erika mused. “Still, I hope you remember that tankery isn’t always like what they broadcast on TV. Head-on duels like the ones you’re practicing are pretty rare.”
“Y-yes, Commander.”
“You’re much more likely to be involved in a mass formation, landing precision shots from afar, or taking part in an assault with a small squadron.”
“Yes, Commander.” They looked crestfallen at her criticism.
Am I being too hard on them? Is it really true that duels like these are so rare? I know I get into my fair share, but I’ve got proximity to the Nishizumi’s to thank for that.
“Uh… Still, like I said - good work. Are your panzers damaged at all? I can help you tow them back inside.”
She thought for a moment.
“I can also help you with any repairs to 035, too - I did immobilise it, after all.”
Fortunately, that turned out not to be necessary. As she had predicted, the frontal shot had done nothing but ruin the paintwork, which 035’s crew had insisted they do themselves. Given 035’s previous experiences with paint, Erika was more than happy not to get involved. The last thing she needed was to dirty two uniforms in one day.
Once the panzer IIIs were back in their place, Erika drove the Tiger II back into position and made to leave. The first-years were fun, but it wouldn’t do for her to intrude on them for long. And putting her tank to bed reminded her of just how sorely she needed to do the same for herself. But as she made her way past them and waved, Isuko rushed over to her.
“C-Commander!” She said hesitantly.
“Something wrong?”
“N-no, we just… We wanted to congratulate you. And all the others. For the win earlier today. We forgot to say anything because of the excitement, and… the flare gun, a-and… So congrats!”
“Thanks.” Erika said as politely as she could, keen not to show any emotion on that particular front.
“A-and one more thing… We wanted to ask. Umm, if it’s okay, can we be a part of the next match? We’re doing a lot of extra training to get good enough!”
The twisting knife of guilt again.
“I… Of course. Next match.” Erika promised quickly without thinking.
Isuko beamed in response, a look Erika couldn’t stop thinking about as she finally headed for the sweet solace of her own bed. A girl, just so happy to be a part of it all, free of the pressure and the prestige and the expectation.
A girl she couldn’t help but envy a little.
Orange Pekoe
“That was really very unfair of you, Darjeeling.” Orange Pekoe scolded. “Erika was my guest, and I rather failed my duty of hospitality with all that knife-twisting you did.”
The pair of them were stood at the prow of the mighty Ark Royal, as she rolled inexorably over the waves. Darjeeling had now changed out of her old tankery uniform, opting instead for an elegant but informal outfit that incorporated the very same shade of crimson. In all their years together, Pekoe had only seen her out of one uniform or another a handful of times.
It felt like loss, seeing someone so familiar looking so different.
“I know, I know.” Darjeeling replied, looking out to the sunset before them. It was, like her, sublime. “I realise that I abused your good graces, but I promise my intentions were pure.”
“What do you mean by that?” Darjeeling’s actions were often unclear, and it was rare that she deigned to explain herself.
Nevertheless, Pekoe loved to grapple with her riddles.
“Erika. She’s still hurting, is all. It’s unsurprising given Miho’s recent fame of course, but nobody deserves to feel that bitter for so long. Love is supposed to be an adventure after all, wouldn’t you say?”
“Well certainly, but it seemed to me like you made her really angry at one point.”
“Erika is a maiden of the tank, Pekoe.” Darjeeling explained, taking her gaze off the sea to meet Pekoe’s eye. Her delicate smile brimmed with playful enthusiasm. “Perhaps moreso than either of us. Skin like steel, A V-twelve heart, and an eighty-eight millimetre eye. I’m afraid that to get through to her, I had to deliver a penetrating shot… as it were.”
Pekoe looked away. Darjeeling could be brighter than the sun, sometimes. “I… see.”
“Mm. And only then could I plant the seeds of change, and hope she finds her own way from there.”
“Very kind of you to help her with her relationship troubles like that.” Pekoe replied, as Darjeeling smiled and walked away from the edge.
Darjeeling had always liked Orange Pekoe, but her heart belonged to girls who were a little… rougher around the edges. Like Erika.
And Kay.
“We all deserve a little kindness in life, don’t you think?” Darjeeling asked, letting the silence hang for a moment before continuing. “Anyways, shall we go? It’s been a long day for me, to say nothing of yourself! I’d feel cruel if I kept you up any later.”
Pekoe shook her head. “Please, go on ahead. I’d like to watch the waves a little while longer.”
As Darjeeling’s form receded away into the evening shadows, Orange Pekoe clasped her hands behind her back and stared out to see, taking a deep breath of salty sea air.
The true course of love really did never run smooth…