Turtles

Meet The Family

And, of course, stuffed Boko bears. The things were everywhere, each covered with an odd assortment of bandages. Three on top of the fridge, one next to the stove. Through the doorway, a clean dozen on top of the dresser and eight obscuring the bookshelf with as many or more where Koume couldn't see from this angle. And on the kitchen table, the same small one, sized to fit in the palm of a hand, that Miho had been clutching the first time the two of them had ever spoken as friends in middle school. She still has that?

Miho deposited her schoolbag next to the doorway and indicated for Koume to do the same. "Are you hungry, Koume? There's half a shortcake in the-,"

"-fridge," Koume finished.

Something in the way she said it warned Miho. "Koume, I know what you're going to say."

"Miho, I-,"

"No, Koume." Koume shut up immediately. She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard Miho use that tone. "I know what you're going to say. Something about how you'd be perfectly happy to get expelled if it meant I wasn't forced to do something against my will, and that's what friends do."

Well, um...

"Koume, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you. Really. You're the best thing that Kuromorimine gave me and it's not close. But constantly dropping everything to make sure everything is perfect for me isn't how a friend should work. That's like a maid and her mistress. Or a mother and her child." A shadow passed over Miho's face at that one.

"Miho, just yesterday you were curled up in a ball crying that you couldn't do this sport again. You can't seriously tell me you're suddenly okay with it?"

"I'm not, Koume. But I haven't been given any choice."

"You did have a choice."

"Not an acceptable one." It suddenly occurred to Koume that they were almost replaying their conversation from their first walk to school word for word, only with the roles reversed. And she's right, now, just like I was right then. At some point I just have to let her make her own decisions. Even if they're infuriating.

Miho sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She looked... tired. Worn out. "It's done, Koume. The Council got what it wanted, there's no point trying to fight it, and I just have to move on, whatever I wanted. And something else. Ever since we got here, you've only seemed to care about what I want. Koume, what do YOU want? Isn't it Senshado?"

The question took Koume aback. What do I want? For myself?

That was easy, wasn't it? Senshado. Miho was right; she wanted to do Senshado again. She wanted to do Senshado with Miho again. Events had arranged themselves so that exactly that would happen.

She'd gotten what she wanted, then, hadn't she?

Except she hadn't.

It's not enough to get in a tank again. It's not even enough to get in a tank again, and look over at the next tank in the formation and see Miho looking back, if she's got misery plastered over her face.

I love this sport. What I want is for Miho to love it too, love it like I do. Like she used to, back in middle school and for most of last year. When we were comrades, on a team of rivals that happened to wear the same uniform, and it made us both better. Better commanders and better people. Everything else that happened around us could be laughed off.

That's what I want. I want that again. And Koume knew that was impossible.

She's telling me to stop worrying so much about her happiness and think a little about myself. But the happiness I want can't come unless both of us are happy together in this sport.