Hey guys. So this is a new project that I've been juggling with for a while now that I want to get my minds off of my main project. Don't get me wrong I want to write the other project, but I have so many ideas that aren't compatible with a single fic, so I decided to make a new one. This is more often than not a test project to see if the idea works, so unlike other fics I've been writing, I really want to see some feedbacks to see if this is worth my time. I know I don't ask this often, but if you are interested in seeing more of this new fic, then you can either review or follow it. If the receptions are great, I'd be more than happy to give this fic more attention.

Anyway, enjoy and I hope to hear receptions from you, good or bad. It helps me improve as a writer

Disclaimer: The universe of Girls und Panzer is borrowed property. Anything that belongs to them should be given credits where its due

Chapter 1: The Physicists Contract

The sound of the shell smashing onto the turret mantlet of the Churchill VII followed by a deafening and prolonged scream of metal. The crew could feel the heat of the shells leaking into the interior. And the tank commander could wow at awe at the tank's capacity to take so many beatings and still remained an intact war machine that could still rain punishment on its attackers.

"We're still in this guys…"

The short black haired girl in the hatch was grinning fiercely. This was the championship match. All the other tanks have gone down honorably, but not hers. She was still standing. The last struggle. She would not go down without putting everything on the table. Everything would be at stake. Since the white flag was not up yet, it would continue. They would feel her wrath.

"Masala, that last shot wasn't from either Tigers. It was the Jagdtiger!" The gunner turned over to her commander worryingly.

"So it finally caught up with us." The grin on Masala's lips disappeared, as she peered over the hatch. "The pit is no longer safe for us. Let's get out of here."

The order was ambiguous, but clear enough for the driver to make her move. The track grinded the dirt violently as it reversed out of the pit, under the cover of several other defeated Matildas. Shells began to pummel the ground beneath their treads as the retreated. But they were capable of getting away with this for free. The Churchill's mobility is relatively unimpressive comparing to normal tanks, but the thick armor ensured their escape. The Black Forest's tanks were too heavy to exit that hill now. This was her chance.

"Masala, this is impossible!" The loader yelled. "There is no way we can go against a Tiger II and a Jagdtiger by ourselves!"

"But the Tiger I is our primary objective, isn't it?"

The Tiger I was Black Forest's command tank ever since that school existed. Proudly bearing the number of some of Germany's most feared tank aces, it hardly knew the feeling of a white flag flying atop of its hull. But the price to pay for its pride was that the tank can be knocked out a lot easier than its heavier counterpart, the Tiger II. If Masala was attending the Black Forest and was appointed commander in chief, she would probably switch it for that. But she found the elegance of St Gloriana more attractive than the highly disciplined Black Forest, and here she was. It was going to be hard, but not impossible.

"This is not elimination, and if the tank's white flag goes up before we do…"

"But we need to get at least to its sides for it. Are you sure you can sneak our tank over to it?" The gunner asked.

"Definitely." Masala replied confidently. "Be so subtle that you are invisible. Be so mysterious that you are intangible. Then you will control your rival's fate."

"Sun Tzu's Art of War." Everybody except the loader answered, to which the latter one only sighed conformingly. It was probably better to fight till the end rather than convince these people.

And where the subtleness could be found, according to Masala, was in the small town a few kilometers to the west of where they had previously engaged the three German tanks. The Churchill arrived and began to take point at a bridge, waiting for the Black Forest's three remaining tank to arrive. And soon they did. And automatically without any doubts it was the precede to a blazing hail of firepower demonstration. But all of them missed their targets as the movement of the tanks reduced its capacity to accurately hit targets.

They have taken the bait. Masala immediately ordered the tank to retreat further into the town. They stopped again at small primary school to feint an engagement before moving off again. Rinse repeat a few times until they arrived at a public auditorium. This is where they would end this battle. The address of the championship title would be decided here.

"Come on. Don't be so shy."

Masala's grin was once again visible after the Churchill parked right at the bottom of the funnel like structure. If they were foolish enough to bear down on them, then she would earn the once upon a lifetime chance. The Churchill's climb rate was far superior to the Tigers, and now they would pounce on that one advantage that they have.

Two of the Kuromorimine Tiger tanks did not take long to reach the lone Churchill as they rolled over to the edge of the auditorium. And began they spreaded out. This wasn't in Masala's expectation, but she could still see a gap. Undoubtedly though, they would attempt to attack the Churchill from afar. But the moment they attempted to lower their guns, they realized that it was too deep to depress the guns. The Churchill hugged too closely to the stairs, and it was pretty big auditorium, so firing from the top down was practically impossible. Only two choices to be taken: one to stand defenseless against the Churchill, which had enough elevation against the tanks, or run down on them. There was the third option of just retreat and wait for the timer, but Masala knew their Senshado style would not allow such a passive course of action. Of course they'd bear down on her.

And that was exactly what they did.

The Tiger II, the non-flag tank was commanded to make its advances. The tank ran over the edge, the tread began to lose balance and the entire hull slammed onto the stairs. The tank began to slide down the concrete steps, starting out small before picking up its velocity, preparing to take its seventy ton weight onto the poor Churchill. Masala knew that if the tank hit hers with its eighty eight now, it wouldn't even take that devastating ram to happen.

"Go Ceylon! Go!" The command was yelled clearly onto the radio. The Churchill's engine roared. The black fume vomitted from its exhaust pipe as the tank steadily climbed the stairs. Its mighty engines and its sturdy tracks carried the day. Before the Tiger II could readjust their guns to the Churchill, the Churchill had already reached the top, right near the other Tiger. The Tiger I fired in retaliation, but the shell flung violently off the Churchill's strong turret armor.

Here's her chance! Championship here she comes!

Not stopping where it was, the Churchill accelerated pass the Tiger I. The Tiger began turning in turn. But it wasn't fast enough. The Tigers did have fast turn rates if coupled with the turret, but the Churchill had the initiative. And a flat angle was all what Masala needed to pop its white flag up.

But there were merely two tanks only for some reasons. Something the St Gloriana's last tank commander did not anticipate.

"What?!"

All of a sudden, from a street where the Churchill just passed by, the Jagdtiger came storming at them. The two metallic hull collided like a sledgehammer on an anvil. The Churchill was pushed a dozen meters before stopping. The tracks were damaged, they could no longer move, but the Churchill's six-pounders had made it. Almost immediately after, the Tiger also caught up with its gun. The Jadgtiger also prepared itself. Three flashes, and a huge explosion engulfed the firers.

The crowds were in a heart-race. The dust cloud would clear in a matter of minutes. Would the battle continue? Or had one of the two flag-tanks been neutralized? Who would bring home the 57th Senshado's Tournament's championship title?

Ceylon had no idea what just happened. She couldn't feel the engine working anymore. The pedal no longer worked. And strangely, she could feel gunpowder inside the tank. A quick check of her station she realized that the tank's hydraulic system was down. Was the tank disabled? Did she lose? Could be, but she wasn't entirely sure if the Kuromorimine's flag tank was disabled as well, and if so was it disabled before or after she was.

Soon and inevitably, the cloud dust began to clear, and the fate of the tanks began to unveil…

"St Gloriana's flag-tank has been disabled. That means the 57th Senshado Tournament's championship belongs to Kuromorimine Girls Academy!"

Crowds began to erupt in tears. Both of joy and disappointment. The result had never been so predictable than before. The Black Forest's school had always been the candidate for championship for ages, alongside Pravda. The only team other than those two to actually stand a chance was Saunder, but to win was a different story. People had been rooting for St Gloriana to be the underdog for a while, but it seemed like history repeated itself.

"Damn it, we're so close!" The tank's gunner clenched her fist in anger as she was merely inches away from getting that Tiger. But then again, she couldn't afford to be so. Losing was a common thing in St Gloriana, and after all, winning wasn't everything in the end. It was the values that mattered. That was what Masala had taught her. Being second place was already good enough for the school to shower them with celebrations for all week.

But unfortunately, they would get none of that…

"I admit, we were close to doing it. You've really impressed me this time Masa-" The loader turned around over to her commander, only for her entire body to go ghost white.

Masala was leaning against her arms, which were still gripping on the hatch. Her eyes were half-closed, her breathe were almost non-existent. And from the top of her forehead was a stream of red liquid oozing down her cheek. And it wasn't all. Her elegant uniform was also stained in the darker red color of blood at her waist, stomach and shoulders. Right next to her was a hole in the side of the turret. A hole that should not have been in a sport like this…

"Oh no! Masala's hurt! Call the emergency team now!" Immediately, her three friends surrounded her.

"I'm calling I'm calling!" The loader took the radio from her commander and immediately made the incident public. That there was a casualty, an actual casualty, for the first time in the history of Senshado.

The ambulance and recovery vehicle was quickly dispatched. But it may not be quick enough…

"Masala! Can you hear me! Please wake up!"

"Ceylon please! She's unconscious! She won't answer you!"

"There is nothing we can do at this moment. The doctors will do her best. Please let her go."

"No…No...JOULE!"

…

…

…

"This is tradition, this is culture, studied by girls from around the world to hone their characters.

Studying Senshado means studying what it means to be a woman.

Hot and hard like steel. Lovable like the clatter of iron tracks. And of absolutely deadly passion like the main cannon.

Senshado makes women alike more polite, graceful, modest and gallant."

Never had he shown any disagreements with the statement itself. He knew it wasn't in a researcher's mindset to show no objections at all to a fallible piece of perception - in fact it could easily become a big mistake - but he'd gladly let this swept under the rug. It was unlike any sports played. The task of having to handle a tank's steering wheel, or the very slight detail of how to make or break a tank's most vital essentials to the victory of the participating teams, or of having to coordinate a team of multiple coordination, of outwitting the opponent. The precision, timing, patience, attention to details, tactical prowess, situational awareness and perseverance of the girls also chimed in for the role of victory. It isn't just a matter of practice makes perfect. It never had. And that especially encompasses the beauty of this sport: it was the sport of all sports, a universal of all. The teamwork, the discipline, the respect for history and our ancestors and the overall sportsmanship involved, or supposed to be, would ensure not just a healthy physical prowess, but also at the end of the line: an elegant role model of the future.

But then again…why should he care?

The man in the black tailored suit and a light sky blue tie looked upon the two pairs of limbs crossing one another as it rested behind the front seat of one of the most well-known Dodge WC57 jeep, as it sped across the country road in the middle of nowhere. Then up his knees to his thigh before his two hands laid bare before his view. It was a reminder that it would never come to pass. He was a man. And by that fact alone had rendered him ineligible for any participation. It was a shame. A thing he lamented. His interests had been sky-high ever since he knew the term, and it had never dwindled. Nobody would prohibit such interests, but one could reasonably ask why would he be willing to learn and be so knowledgeable about something like this? He had no kids, yet. In fact, judging that by the slightly roundish chin, the unwrinkled forehead and the pair of infinite blue galaxy filled with an eternity of questions, some of which would never be answered, would be the equivalent of saying your grandma is a world-famous disco dancer. Of course, that could actually happen, but you'd be a lot surprised to learn that he had only barely passed the legal age to drink.

So the question is: why should he care?

If you ask him directly, 'There isn't a rule for me to not be involved at all' would be his response. For simplicity's sake and perhaps to end this conversation. But life wasn't ever so simple. Simplicity would never be a reason for a man to pursue a PhD thesis topic on it. It would never be a reason for him to petition the Senshado Federation seven times to fund his research for that thesis. Never a reason for him to work sixty hours a week, something a full-time job worker never ever dreaded to have in their life. It had to be something more. But unfortunately, no one so far had delved so far into the junctions and tangled web of his sophisticatedly brilliant mind.

The cool summer wind combing through his short and neat jet black hair almost led to him falling asleep on the spot. The jet lag after having flown all the way from mainland Japan had been haunting him ever since he stepped a foot out of his country, and the feeling of having to sit on an economic class seat for hours was aggravating. Probably he could have a rest as soon as he arrived at the destination. The Turtle Bay Bootcamp. Ironically enough, it was not at a bay, but in a rural area close to the mountains. And it wasn't long until the guard towers began to emerge. And then the wide metal fences that surround the compound. And then the vast empty plain of the runway, the massive dome-like structure of the main building block that felt nothing like a training headquarter for Senshado practitioners, followed by an equally large rectangle box of glass paneled architecture hiding behind the main building. But he'd expect no less from a tankery team made up of some of the finest tankers of the country, funded by the federal state to function with some of the most highly advanced technology Japan could afford. And precisely the reason why he wanted to cooperate with these individuals.

The jeep soon made it past the gate upon a quick inspection with the female security guard. Despite having anticipated, and even welcoming, this guest of the campus, the surprise was written all over their faces. Not just because he was a boy in a very girl-dominant background, but also because she didn't expect the one to pursue a doctorate who the school had been rumoring about wasn't an old codger, but a melancholic looking young adult. And she wasn't the only one. As he made his way to the headmistress's office, he couldn't get through the hall or ask questions of the campus without a curious and most often flustered response from the girls. And sometimes not without certain malice burning onto the back of his neck. But nevertheless, the arrival at the headmistress's office on the top floor was particularly safely-warranted.

Taking a moment to adjust his own tie and checking his bag of all his necessities, he could feel the tension awaiting to devour his relatively frail five feet two body the moment he opens the door. He was, of course, to meet one of the people who had denied seven of his requests for funds. The question if she finally accepted this eighth time begrudgingly or voluntarily was not the point. To meet someone whom he had made a not so nice impression technically was going to be an awkward relationship. It all felt like his master's thesis defense again.

Mustering his courage, he took a step forward, his hands up as he knocked on the wooden door thrice.

"Come in." A mature female voice echoed out from the room.

He entered the room with a light and gentle push of the door, with his head slightly peeking in. Upon realizing the identity of the guests, to his surprise, the atmosphere of the room immediately brightened. The woman in the red suit at the far end of the room, sitting behind a well-refined wooden desk, upon glancing her hazel colored eyes at the small figure peeking behind the door immediately formed a smile that superseded her elegance and professionalism. She stood up from her chair as she walked over to the table nearby, on the while gesturing him to enter and make himself at home.

"Don't be shy. We've been expecting you." She calmly said, but nevertheless calmed the doctorate student down with her warm smile.

The heavy atmosphere was soon lifted, as he politely gave a light bow before taking a seat where she had told him to.

"Excuse my intrusion for today ma'am." He said. "If you'd allow me to introduce myself."

"We actually already know." She giggled slightly as she sat down as well, on the opposite side. "We wouldn't be able to miss the name of the man who had sent us requests seven times only to be turned down."

The way she stressed them out while still maintaining a joking manner of the subject matter made him look away in embarrassment

"So you are Michael Joule." She began, as she held a thin sheet of paper in her hands, to which the man before him nodded gently. "A graduate at Tokyo University, has a bachelor in engineering, and a master in physics. Now pursuing a doctorate in the latter."

She tilted her head around in great curiosity at this interesting detail.

"And with all of that, you're only eighteen years old." She said, both as questions and a remark.

"Yes ma'am." Michael replied. "I skipped grades pretty commonly, in a more positive sense."

"Oh. Then you'd find out that you aren't as strange as you think." The woman replied, her chord seemed to spring into life. "My daughter is also in university, but she's always been treated like a kid."

"Really ma'am?" Michael answered with surprise.

"Yeah. I'd introduce her to you soon, but for now, I want to know something else." She said.

"What would that be ma'am?"

"Just tell me a bit of the work that you're doing. You said the result may or may not change Senshado's future forever."

Her hazel eyes suddenly narrowed, like a knife trying to slice through a piece of butter. It wasn't beyond reasonable to ask such a question, and Michael was perfectly prepared for such a question. It was this woman's life work, and to discover a revelation that could potentially affect, create or destroy, it, it was like a wild animal reacting to a human the first time they meet him.

"You're right ma'am." Michael affirmed. "If my hypothesis is correct. But please rest assured, I am not here to dismantle Senshado in its any form. I believe in its values and cultural significance."

"Hmm. It's interesting to hear such words coming from the other side of the spectrum." She remarked, as she placed her index and thumb on her chin.

"My mother and sister are all Senshado practitioner" Michael replied but the tone seemed to lag away in the depths of thoughts. "That's why I'm quite influenced, and want to get involved. But I'm sure I'm getting off-track here."

Just as he finished that, he opened his bag and took out a large flat screened tablet. Powered up and unlocked, he handed it over to the woman. The number thirty popped up in the page number section. And before her a title echoed curiosity and a sense of directionlessness.

'Examining the property of the von Braun's molecule used in Senshado's armor in the subatomic level.'

She probably needed a lot of guidance. Do not get fooled though. The Shimada's family is a highly educated bloodline. Never once did a child carrying the gene running through their blood not finish a Bachelor at the least in academia, or its equivalent of not taking part in an international tankery competition. It was a prideful accomplishment. But this was just on a whole different level than hers. And after scrolling down to a heap of tables and graphs containing a few hundred variables, many of which didn't even make any sense to her, she had known her place.

"I've run a theoretical simulation. The molecule in the armor, constructed and mixed with steel is concentrated three micrometers behind the front side of the plate where it faces incoming enemy shells. The simplest example of its use is the spring coil, as the spring would absorb part of the forces and on the while returning some of the applied forces." Michael explained. "But the von Braun molecule does not deform the armor like a spring that compresses or expands, but in fact, it allows total absorption of forces of up to eighty-six percent, with the value Lambda and Rho accordingly are…"

And this was where she completely lost him. The moment she knew she was humbled. By an eighteen years old child. Is this who her daughter is gonna grow up to become?

"Sorry Mr Joule. I think you can spare your time and effort from explaining it to me." The woman politely interrupted Michael with a defeated laugh. "I've never felt so dense for a while."

"I was getting to the best part..." Michael pouted slightly but regained his composure as soon as it dwindled. "But basically I'm seeing if the property of these molecules can explain the recent accident."

"But I thought that was already attributed to faulty shells being the main cause." She questioned.

"I'm skeptical of that. As the armor is also supposed to play the role of protection as well with these shells. Eighty-six percent absorption rate is a big deal." He answered. "And it didn't just happen out of a random chance. There are certain conditions that have been met for it to happen."

"And that is?" She pressed on.

"I'm finding that out." And he deflected. "If I have already opened the treasure chest, that thesis would have had twice that length."

The woman silently nodded. It wasn't very clear if it was worth doing this over something that had been resolved a while ago. Still, thirty pages full of these complex experiments and tight manhandled conditions that allowed an accuracy no less than hitting a target with a tank from two kilometers away. She didn't know who would not, but it was enough a filter in terms of genuity for her.

"Alright. I'm convinced." The woman handed the tablet back. "The rest of your detail we've already been informed by your supervisor."

"That means…"

"Yeah, we'll arrange your accommodation here as soon as possible." The woman stood up. "Our contract is therefore in effect."

It was the brightest news of the day for him.

"Oh thank you ma'am!" Michael also stood up with a bright beam on his face and an offering handshake. "I'm glad to be contributing to this cause."

"No problem." She gladly accepted the handshake. "And please." Then she pulled out of her breast pocket a small card and handed it over to Michael. "Give me a notification if something comes up."

The card reads the name of the institution, the headmistress's contact information before a larger orange-red ink printed her identity out loud: Chiyo Shimada; Japan's Senshado Federation; Head of the All-Star University Team.

"Thank you…Mrs Shimada. I'll keep in mind."

"My daughter will later take you on a campus tour. I've already notified her." Chiyo gave another smile, all before it vanished in a second like vapors in the air. "But then again, I would like to remind you that we only agree this stay to be a research partnership. I don't want to see anything of yours that go beyond that agreement."

It couldn't help but strike the head of the Shimada family as worrying when the doctoral student that she agreed to let in a girl's sanction is not an established and mature adult, but a male teenager. A prodigious perhaps, well-refined from a Senshado's family, but she was under no delusions about what could happen when teenagers of opposite genders are placed close to each other.

Michael was a little taken aback by the sudden one hundred and eighty-degree turn of mood. But then again, it was in a mother's instinct to protect their children.

"Yes ma'am. You need not to remind me twice." He replied decisively.

"Good."

Feeling a sense of reassurance, the woman sat back down. The atmosphere lightened, but the aura lingered for long even until the knock on the door awakened the occupants of yet another guests. Immediately after, a young female voice came from behind.

"Okaa-san. I'm here."

"Come in."

Chiyo did not lose her normal composure, despite both sides knowing who was behind the wooden door. The door swung open to reveal, not a tall sister-like university student that Michael had expected, but a small little girl. Not even his height, but nearly a head shorter, the girl seemed so pale with that soft white skin. Something told this prodigious student that she wasn't even his age also. The pair of light brown twin-tails dancing around her shoulders with every step of the way. And yet that uniform: the dark-grey notched jacket over a white collared shirt and a black tie, along, and especially, with the beret on top. She is a student here? No wonder why Chiyo said he wasn't so strange here, and that she was treated like a kid. She looked like a kid.

The hazel eyes that matched her mother seemed like it was to never change. But it did the moment she saw the elephant sitting in the room. Surprise would be an oversimplification. As she approached her mother, she tried to evade eye contact as much as possible, while her steps didn't seem consistent it looked just silly.

"Allow me to introduce to you, this is my daughter Alice. Alice Shimada." Chiyo then turned over to the young girl. "Alice, this is Michael. From today, he shall be staying with all of you temporarily according to a partnership contract with Tokyo University."

Alice's eyes couldn't hide the surprise she felt, but she soon connected the dot. The rumors turned out to be true. But still, it did little to diminish it. She looked exactly the same as her mother when the identity of this man was revealed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms Shimada." Michael again offered a handshake.

"Ah…" It took her a while to formulate a response, as her eyes couldn't brake into anything in sight that she could look at. Especially when unlike her, Michael knew where to look at. "I-It's a pleasure to meet you too…Mr…"

"No need to be formal, call me Joule or Michael. Honorifics are fine by me." He said.

"Then…Joule-san?" She quietly uttered, to which he gladly nodded. "…I guess you can call me Shimada-san. If you don't mind…"

"Sure." Michael replied. "Shimada-san."

Immediately, just as her eyes were briefly locked with his, the key broke the chain, as she looked to her sides flusteringly.

"Ok, I guess our meeting today is finished. Since I won't be here every day all day, it would be best if you give us a call if it is an urgent request. We'll let you know once your room is finished. In the meantime" Chiyo said. "Alice, if you don't mind giving Joule here a tour of the campus."

"Ah…" Again, the hesitation. 'Why me?' she thought to herself. It was easy to ask her closest associate, but she had barely interacted with a boy around her age group, let alone showing him the compound. But her hope to weasel away from this, which was already thin to begin with, was crushed into a zero-dimensional object as soon as her mother left the office, briefly perhaps.

Left alone with the newcomer, she had no choice but to toughen up and carry out the trip. First she led him through to the various blocks belonging to different universities across Japan, some even international. This team was special in the fact that the students are not a part of a single university but from different corners of the country unified under one banner of the band of the finest Senshado candidates to participate in the National League. Despite having Senshado as the primary activity of the institution, the universities also needed to ensure a proper education of other subjects, so that tanks aren't the only thing in their mind, especially when they are out of tankery at certain phases of their lives. It did give the sense of eliteness whenever he walked pass these blocks as he imagined himself in their shoes.

But it wasn't easy walking through these blocks without attracting the attention of the students around. Again. And this was definitely not helped by the fact that Alice was switching off into a monotonic state and wasn't even trying to strike up a conversation with him, and for good reasons viewed from her perspective.

"Psst." If she didn't do that, then he probably had to. "Shimada-san."

"Huh?" Alice suddenly stopped and turned around. "Y-Yes?"

"When can I actually have a proper introduction to everybody?" He asked. "Looks like many of them are having good questions that need to be answered."

"Whenever you want basically. I can even organize a gathering right now if you need." Alice replied.

"Well…" Michael probably did not need it that far. "As soon as you see fit."

At that moment, she looked a little troubled, furrowing her brows a bit.

"...Maybe this evening once everybody is done with their training…If that's alright with you."

"Of course."

Without much of a response, Alice turned around and continued on with her cold and silent mode. As boring as it may sound, this was the routine that she took for the entirety of the tour as they scoured through the training ground, the tank's garage and the other campus's facilities. Only until the final location on the list, the dormitory did it finally break.

"And this is the dormitory, where we are if not at school. If I'm not mistaken, you'd be staying in room 2343." Alice said. "Every room has their own private bathroom, toilet, and refrigerator. Wifi, electricity and water are all covered for you."

"Replenishment?" Michael asked.

"Yes, but only necessities. Not anything like snacks."

"I see. You guys sure live comfortably for university students."

Again, no response but a glance away.

"By the way, where do you live in this dorm? Just curious."

Michael's question immediately prompted a myriad of different emotions from the thirteen-year-old, surely different from when the usual preplanned speech that she did before. She felt blood rushing all over her face as her eyes were hammered onto the carpet floor in embarrassment.

"R…Room 2341…"

"Oh, we're neighbors." Michael said with a slight smile. "I hope we can get along well."

"...L-L-Likewise." She stuttered, her eyes briefly glancing up.

'It probably would take a bit of time.' Michael thought to himself as she struggled to formulate even the simplest of response to such a social conversation, or basically any conversation that does not involve technical memorization. But he could always see the struggle behind it. Having been that smartass in class who had nothing in his mind but graphs and equations, friends were a relatively small circle for Michael, and teachers sometimes didn't help with expanding that radius; sometimes they even alienated him. It was only until his post-secondary education that he managed to find his home and develop his ability to communicate with people properly. And while he did not know her personally, he could definitely relate to it.

As the two was standing in the hallway of the dorm, a silhouette of an older woman wearing what seemed to be the facility's worker uniform appeared out of a room at the end of the hallway and approached the two. She turned out to be the one of those who are preparing Michael's dorm room sent by Chiyo, informing him that the room was still under preparation, but he could enter at will.

"Well, I guess I'll see if my luggage has been unpacked." Michael said. "I'll see you this evening at the gathering."

Alice looked at Michael for a while before awkwardly turning around and ran down the hall, her eyes closed. Pretty cute he could say.

After Alice left, Michael went into the room where the worker had just came out of. The place where he would call home turned out to be quite a comfy one. Obviously larger than his old apartment when he was doing his undergraduate degree, but a reasonable medium sized bedroom. In addition to the fridge acting also as a bedside table, the bathroom at the other corner of the room, there was also a queen-size bed, an embedded wardrobe, a coffee table, and an armchair. TV, lamp, kettle, and even an alarm clock for fuck's sake. Everything, with the exception of kitchen utilities, was all present. Is this really an institution's dormitory? Michael would call it a 4-star hotel room, and he wouldn't be judged for such a remark.

"Well, there's a reason why they don't accept fundings so easily."

To live this luxuriously, it would have to be heaven or an insanely rich entrepreneur. Michael wouldn't imagine himself in this position ever. To walk this path meant a lot of financial sacrifice, but guess the effort and perseverance paid off. Well for now…

Noticing next to his bed was his two suitcases lining up against one another and hugging the wall, Michael instead took out his laptop and booted his documents. He could leave the unpacking later. He needed a bit of rest, and perhaps to plan a bit ahead. Even though he would have quite a bit of time here, it wasn't at all a long-term commitment. There were still constraints and deadline in the contract, and he would have to leave when the time comes. It would be best to get started as soon as possible.

As he booted up his cloud files, and in turn scouring through some recent news article, he noticed one of the articles in one of the city's most popular mass media.

'The recent shell defects and the incident of the 57th Senshado Tournament. Is the sport as safe as we think?'

A long sigh was ensured to follow.

He need not taper in these articles. Looking at the author of the article, he knew it wasn't a well-qualified scientist or a professional, but a moral entrepreneur. He wasn't strange to these types of people. They were right in that regard, but they were probably trying to appeal to the abolishment of Senshado by trying to instill some sort of panic in the public. He knew this too well.

But most and foremost, it just wasn't good memories…

Michael closed the browser. Before him then was his desktop, containing some of his old project files, a few games and some arithmetic application shortcuts. But behind them all was a wallpaper, one that he hadn't changed for years. A young boy in his early adolescent, wearing a suit and a tie, and a silver medal hanging around his neck, standing proudly in front of a fountain. And next to him was an older girl in a red coat and black skirts. A shoulder-length black-haired girl that could outshine the sun any day. The glasses in front of her eyes magnified the burning passion in her eyes as she held a red flag with a golden tank embellishment in her two hands, while she crouched right next to him.

"I'm close…" Michael muttered, his breath holding weight. "You said I'm always right about everything I say."

Then he could definitely find a way to protect these girls. And he need not be a tanker himself.

Michael opened the web browser yet again, but this time he went directly onto the cloud storage instead of wandering reading the newspaper. He ought not to get distracted.

Yeah, this is a little unconventional idea that I came up with. I like some of the fics involving boy's school and Co-Ed Senshado, but I don't want to simply follow the trend. While coming up with ideas for this GuP fic, I was thinking of how can I make my OC be involved in Senshado without being a female and have to go through the whole Co-Ed thing. How can I make my male OC be active in Senshado while maintaining its girls-only rule. And I figure he can be a person who is studying how the system works (they aren't thoroughly explored as well for some reasons), and because of that he can get close to the girls despite not being a member. I don't know if you are at all interested in this idea, since the center of the fic will not be tank combat, but rather technical (and a little made-up) stuff about tanks and the motivations behind some of the characters, though there will definitely be multiple tank combat scenes to look forward to. If you like it then feel free to leave a review telling me. If you don't then also feel free to tell me.

Thanks for tuning in for this story and hopefully I will be encouraged to write more of this in the future.