Farewell Address

Nishizumi Maho is finishing her packing, putting the last of her dormitory room's handful of decorations in boxes for shipping either to the Nishizumi estate or to the European military school where she will be spending the next four years, when there is a knock at the door. She looks at the door, smiles faintly, and murmurs, "Exactly on time," before raising her voice to say, "Enter."

The door opens, and Itsumi Erika enters. "Commander," she says by way of greeting.

"Former commander," Maho gently corrects. "Maho would be better ... commander"

"... commander," Erika repeats, impermeable.

Maho sighs, closes up the box she's packing, and walks over to her room's chair to sit down. "This will be our last conversation for a while, Erika."

"Eh?" the other girl says, blinking in confusion. "But you said -"

"I know, I intend to keep in touch as much as possible. But this will be the last time you and I talk face to face like this, and there are certain things that I need to tell you," Maho explains.

"I would be happy to receive whatever final advice the commander choose to give," Erika replies.

"It's not -" Maho starts to say, then shakes her head. "No. Let me start at the very beginning. I have no father, Erika."

Erika stares, opens her mouth to reply, then closes it again without saying anything.

"I presume that there was someone else involved in the process by which I was born," Maho continues after a moment. "But whoever that person was, they were not present in my life, or my sister's life. Perhaps they passed away before my memories of childhood begin, and my mother kept no memorabilia of them. It doesn't really matter. The point is ... I only ever had my mother, and so I never had an example of how someone behaves towards someone that they love as a lover. Perhaps that is the reason that I have never ... ever ... felt a desire to have someone that I love as a lover.

"Or perhaps not," she adds after another moment. "I suppose, in the end, it doesn't matter -"

"Why are you telling me this?" Erika says, her voice very tight.

"Because I wish, for your sake, that I felt about you the way that you feel about me," Maho replies, finally lifting her eyes to meet Erika's gaze. "But I don't. And I never will. I'm sorry, Erika."

"I don't -" Erika starts to say, faintly trembling as she stammers. "I just admire - it's not - I'm not - this isn't -"

"I am sorry, Erika," Maho repeats.

"Stop apologizing, dammit, you sound like your little sister!" Erika abruptly roars. The instant the words leave her lips, her face goes white in horror.

Maho begins to stand, to reach out ... but Erika has turned and run from the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

After a moment, Maho's outreached hand falls to her side, and her head lowers. A shuddering breath is taken. Then, abruptly, she turns and looks upward, eyes focusing on the perspective through which all this has been observed. She walks toward it, stepping up onto her bed, until her face fills the perspective.

"If you are watching this," she says flatly, "Europe will hopefully be far enough away from you."

And the perspective dissolves in static, and in the darkness where the video is being watched, a hand clenches for a moment.