I belatedly found out that today is Holocaust Remembrance Day, and I immediately wanted to try uploading a Strike Witches fic in honor of it. This one happened to fit the best, although my original plan was to keep it off the internet until all of the chapters were finished. Oh well. I'll do my best to get the next chapter ready, but it might be a while, as usual.

The title is based on one of Minna's character songs, which is called Toki, or Time in English.

Disclaimer: Strike Witches is the legal property of Shimada Humikane. I write fanfiction to pay homage to the source material and promote awareness of its existence. And for fun. No copyright infringement is intended.

July 17, 1941

Castle Barin was a massive base, Minna thought. She knew this, of course, but it seemed so much larger when one was dreading the destination ahead. Two more hallways and she would be there. She wrung her hands.

Minna had many worries. Their new wing's budget, for one, and especially the struggle to even get the Joint Fighter Wing project off the ground in the first place. But what concerned her most of all was morale. It had only been about a month since the fall of Gallia, and the losses weighed heavily on all of them. None more so, it seemed, than her oldest friend in the wing.

With the lull in battle as of late, it was becoming increasingly obvious that something was wrong with Trude. Minna knew why; Trude loved her family, and her sister's comatose state was a constant source of stress. They hadn't had time to discuss it during the evacuation, what with the constant fighting and relocating, but they had agreed to talk when they could.

Now that moment was here, and Trude was pulling away instead. She never spoke unless it regarded a military matter and any attempts to strike up casual conversation fell flat. What free time she had was spent training, inspecting, or doing paperwork, mostly alone. This was more than reticence; she was isolating herself.

Minna hadn't pushed at first—Trude highly valued personal space, and she respected that—but she did not seem to be improving. She then attempted to draw Trude out of her shell at the end of a meeting, only for the other to walk out.

Leave me alone, she'd said. The room had seemed so cold and empty afterward.

That had been yesterday. It was a clear signal that she could not wait any longer. If she let Trude put even more distance between them, she felt like she might lose their friendship forever. And the thought of losing another loved one…

Her hands trembled without her permission and she let out a shuddering breath. That wound was still fresh. She didn't want to go through such a thing again.

Too soon and not soon enough, she rounded the corner to the hangar, spotting Trude right away. Her friend's back was to her. She held a MG42 in one hand while she slotted the saddle drum magazine with the other, before returning the machine gun to its mounting. It seemed she had just finished an inspection of her weaponry; both MG42s had a sheen to them that suggested they had recently been cleaned.

Minna glanced around, confirming no one was around—although her magic had already told her as much—before she stepped forward, hesitation slowing her.

"Trude?"

Trude turned around, not looking surprised in the least; apparently she'd heard her coming. "Ma'am," She snapped off a salute.

Minna returned it automatically, more for protocol than anything else. Then she gave Trude what she hoped was a disarming smile. "Please, relax. I'm not here on official business."

Trude didn't return the smile, and although she did stand at ease, her body language remained unchanged: stiff and tense, with a stony expression to match. Honey brown eyes, once naturally warm, were now cold and uninviting, accentuated by an ever-present frown.

Trude's eyes were what worried Minna the most. Before, even when they weren't friends yet, Minna was able to see the drive and zeal that Trude put into her work. There was passion there—hidden in lieu of a professional demeanor of course—but it had always been rather obvious to Minna's perceptive eye. Now she could see none of that, and she wanted it back.

"I know you wanted to be alone, but I'm worried about you," Direct and to the point; that was what her friend preferred. She hoped it would be enough.

"There's no need. I'm fine," Trude said immediately, her tone painfully stoic to Minna's ears. This was the brunette's business voice.

"No, you're not. I've known you long enough to be able to tell when something is bothering you," She paused, weighing her options, before she decided on the next sentence. "It is time. We truly need to discuss this now."

Trude's frown only became more severe. "That will not be necessary."

"But it is!" Minna said, working hard to keep desperation from creeping into her voice. A commanding officer needed to stay composed, she reminded herself. "Don't do this, Trude. Please. Don't shut me out. You know you can tell me anything."

Trude remained silent, but the subtle rise in her shoulders said enough. Trude was digging in her heels, and the unspoken answer was obvious: I don't want to.

It was expected, but it still stung. Trude rarely confided in anyone, and when she did, she only spoke of her feelings with a select few, Minna included. That Trude refused to open up to her now, even when there was no one else around, hurt Minna more than she wanted to show.

Yet she sighed and set that aside, filed away to be processed later. What she needed to do now was push ahead and get to the heart of the matter. Even if it meant forcing Trude out of her comfort zone, it had to be done.

"I know how difficult all of this has been," she said softly. "But things will get better—Chris will get better."

Trude went a little pale and became eerily still for a moment, with only her wavering eyes as a sign of inner turmoil. Minna's composure also faltered at the sight, but she remained insistent, observing her friend with bated breath. However, disappointment lanced through her when Trude simply looked away in the end.

"Just…forget it," It was an answer, at least.

"Why? The healers stabilized her," Minna kept her voice gentle, hoping to coax out more. "You remember, don't you? She's a strong girl; you and I both know she will recover. It's only a matter of time."

Trude shook her head. "There's no evidence she will."

Minna was silent for a long moment, turning over the words in her head before she spoke them. "I…I know there are no signs yet. I too assumed she would be awake when we arrived," She took a deep breath. "But she is still alive. All we can do now is hope. And we can do that together, can't we?"

"…Hope? That's it?"

Trude's voice was low, so quiet it would have gone unheard in a noisier room. She finally glanced back at Minna again, her eyes displaying…something. Minna was uncertain as to what it was. That threw her for a loop; Trude was usually so easy to read. Her guilt at forcing Trude into this conversation morphed into anxiety. She stepped closer, her hand aching to reach out, guided by an instinctual need to comfort her friend.

"There's no point in hope."

And Minna stopped, taken aback at the pain she heard in those words.

She remembered the last time Trude had sounded like that. It was only a few weeks prior. The brunette had seemed uncharacteristically small, her shoulders hunched instead of straight, and her eyes so distant it was as if she was in a different place altogether. Getting her to respond had been difficult.

"I failed her."

That statement, spoken so feebly, was something Minna would never forget. Trude hadn't shed a tear, as though she had none left after mourning her parents months before. She just stood there, listless, none of that trademark fight present. Destroyed by the war.

But she returned to normal after a few days, at least on the surface, and her performance was unchanged. Minna had hoped that Trude was recovering on her own, that they were both picking up the pieces as best they could, but that was not the case at all.

Trude was still broken.

Guilt squeezed Minna's heart like a vice, her mind spinning with all the ways she could have—should have—forced this sooner. How she had failed as a friend and as a commanding officer.

I should have known.

She wasn't sure what to do. How could she fix this? And would Trude even let her? All she could think of was to apologize; her mind was blanking on everything else. But Trude spoke before she could.

"We lost the mainland in five months. The Neuroi destroyed everything. They have us cornered," Trude grit her teeth. "We don't have time to sit around and wish for better days."

Minna suddenly found her voice. "It does matter! Without that…" She didn't want to think about it. As a commander, she knew the importance of morale. If that plummeted, people would lose the will to fight. It could only make things worse.

"We're at war," Trude countered, her stare hardening. "They're monsters. Nightmares! Don't you see?" Her tightly clenched fists trembled at her sides and her voice rose in volume. "They won't stop until they've killed every last one of us, so we need to do the same!" Trude was yelling now. "Nothing else matters!" She turned and gestured wildly at her equipment. "Only this does!"

Minna was speechless. She couldn't think. Trude's face was contorted in an angry snarl—anger that was also directed at her—while her eyes were wide and unnaturally dark with bloodlust. She was shaking all over. Minna had never seen her like this before; try as she might, she struggled to accept this…this stranger…was her old friend.

Suddenly Trude stiffened, and her face reverted back to a rather awkward expression that Minna was much more familiar with. The brunette quickly snapped back into proper form, her gaze cautiously averted.

"My apologies, Wing Commander," Trude's business voice was back, all traces of anger gone, or perhaps masked. Minna honestly wasn't certain anymore. The Trude she thought she knew almost seemed like a relic of the past. "Such behavior is unbecoming of a soldier. I will accept any punishment you see fit."

The abrupt change in conduct knocked all the wind out of Minna's sails. Had the air always felt this stifling? Suddenly conflicted, she looked down and mulled over her options. Trude was pushing for a conclusion to this exchange, something Minna was wholeheartedly in opposition of. But upon observing her now impassive friend, she realized Trude's walls were back up. The moment had passed.

Perhaps it would be best to think of a strategy instead of continuing. It saddened her, but she would have to keep trying. Later.

"It's all right," she said haltingly. Looking Trude in the eyes had never felt more difficult. "Carry on."

Trude nodded and saluted. "Yes, ma'am."

She marched past Minna without so much as a glance in her direction. Minna turned and watched her walk away, overwhelmed by a profound sense of loss.

She'd always preferred being called by her first name, especially when off duty, something that hadn't changed even when she moved up in rank. Trude thought this to be incredibly peculiar when they first met, and it took Minna a fair amount of time and effort to convince her to go along with it.

Now she had been stripped of that honor. To hear one of her closest companions refer to her only by rank, not by name, was devastating. It made her feel like she was looked upon as a soldier, a mere colleague and not a dear friend. Just like that, Trude felt farther away than ever before. Would Minna ever get through to her again? And even if she did, would there be anything left of the person she once knew?

"There's no point in hope."

As Minna watched brown twin tails disappear around the corner, she could only pray the hope Trude so desperately needed would come soon.

A/N:

Man, this chapter gave me hell. It changed every time I tried to write it, and it kept straying in all kinds of directions! I'm happy to finally see it finished.

Obviously some parts of this chapter conflict slightly with what Minna said in her CD interview, since I made her more aware of Gertrud's internal struggle. Still, I believe having Minna know something is seriously wrong, while at the same time making her unable to help, fits her "I should have done more" point of view quite well.

The meeting that was mentioned early on in this chapter is based on Track 05 of the Himebana 1 Drama CD. I never actually got to listen to the audio, so my version could differ in execution or intent.