The audio of the Houston interview began to play, showing Shiho Nishizumi listening intently to Houston's voice as the reporter continued to ask him questions after the match of the finals.

"How do you feel about being ranked up to an S-tier class, Houston?" the reporter asked.

"It's very shocking to hear that I'm in an S-tier class," Houston's audio began, "which is to say I'm very humble. I worked so hard to earn—" The audio was abruptly cut off.

The recording was paused. Shiho remained quiet, her eyes closed and arms folded. She hadn't touched the tea sitting in front of her, which had gone cold. She sat still and silent.

Around the table, the Sensha-do officials discussed various important topics, including the next season and the funding for Ooarai Girls Academy. Despite the lively conversation, Shiho remained silent, her mind replaying the audio recording repeatedly. The idea of boys like the Americans wanting to participate in Sensha-do was, to her, a disgrace. Sensha-do was meant to help girls become more feminine and independent, not to involve boys.

Determined, Shiho resolved to find a way to stop or shut down the American Tankery match.

"Now that we have finished dealing with what needed to be addressed, Ms. Nishizumi, do you have something you wanted to say?" Ami asked.

"Yes, I do," Shiho answered.

She stood up, facing the officials, and then spoke up. "I have studied what I could find about the American Tankery match, and what I found is quite disgraceful. It ruins the very nature of what Sensha-do is meant to be. Men and young boys have no right to practice it."

"Wait, so you're saying we should stop the influence of another country's sporting event?" one of the Sensha-do officials interjected. "But, Ms. Nishizumi, I don't see anything wrong with the Americans using Sensha-do in their own style of sport. Remember, England and Australia have that sport called Rugby, and the Americans don't care about it. Why should we?"

Shiho took a deep breath, her gaze steady as she addressed the concern raised by the official. "Sensha-do is more than just a sport. It is a tradition, a cultural practice that fosters discipline, elegance, and empowerment among young women. Allowing boys to participate fundamentally alters its purpose and undermines its values."

Ami, seated beside Shiho, nodded thoughtfully. "I understand your perspective, Ms. Nishizumi. However, we must consider the broader implications. The world is changing, and so are the practices and traditions. We need to find a balance between preserving our traditions and adapting to new developments."

Chiyo Shimada, another prominent figure in the Sensha-do Federation, leaned forward. "I agree with both points. While it's important to uphold the essence of Sensha-do, we cannot entirely shut out external influences. Perhaps there is a way to distinguish our traditional Sensha-do from the American style without outright banning it."

"And this is why we send them an ultimatum," Shiho answered firmly. "Cancel this Tankery or tank tournament, or be forced to fight against us."

The room erupted in hushed but intense conversations among the officials. The tension was palpable until one of them, Sensha-do Official 3, spoke up.

"Wait, even if we decide to fight the Americans, do you even know who just got ranked up to an S-tier class of tank commanders?" the official asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Don Houston," another official responded quietly, the name eliciting a murmur of recognition. "He's the first best tank commander in the West."

Ami Chono spoke up, her tone measured but firm. "Ms. Nishizumi, we can't do anything to the Americans since their sport is not like Sensha-do. Besides, it is very different in how they play. For example, they don't use flag tank matches. What they play is Conquest or Annihilation. Mostly, they have to take major control points, and once they capture all the major points, they can either take over the enemy base or destroy it. And lastly, the Americans have no cultural value in that sport—they just play it for fun. This brings me to the conclusion that we have no reason to remove all that the Americans have made of this sport."

Chiyo Shimada nodded in agreement. "I agree with Ms. Chono. We can't do anything about the American tankers' sport. So, I'll just say that we are at an impasse?

As the discussion settled into a more constructive direction, one of the younger officials, who had been quietly observing, raised his hand. "Excuse me, but who exactly is Don Houston?"

Another official, an older man who had traveled extensively, leaned back in his chair. "I heard from a tourist about him. They called him 'The Dallas Incident hero.'"

Ami's eyes widened slightly. "The Dallas Incident? I've heard of that. But what exactly happened there, and how is he related to it?"

The older official sighed, rubbing his temples as he recalled the story. "Don Houston is something of a legend in the West. His skills in both ground combat and tankery are unparalleled. The Dallas Incident refers to a high-stakes situation where a military exercise turned into a real combat scenario. Houston's strategic brilliance and combat prowess saved numerous lives. His ability to command under pressure and adapt to rapidly changing situations is what earned him his reputation."

Shiho's expression grew more serious as she listened. "So, he's not just skilled in tankery, but also has real combat experience."

"Exactly," the official confirmed. "He's known for his tactical ingenuity and unmatched reflexes, both on the ground and in a tank. His presence on the battlefield is said to be commanding, almost as if he can predict his opponent's every move."

Chiyo looked thoughtful. "This means that if we were to confront the Americans, we wouldn't just be facing a regular team. We'd be up against someone who is practically a living legend."

Ami nodded. "This further solidifies the idea that a direct confrontation might not be the best approach"

"Not quite," Shiho said, producing a signed contract from her briefcase. "I have a signed contract from Renta Tsuji from MEXT. They all agreed with me and are already contacting the Americans right about now."

"What!" Shichiro exclaimed, standing up from his seat in a state of shock.

Shiho continued, her voice steady and determined. "Should a unified team of Japan's Sensha-do teams beat the best American teams in the West, they will have to shut down all affiliations of this sport with our rules and guidance. If they win, we shall leave them alone."

"Ms. Nishizumi, you are going too far," Shichiro spoke urgently. "The Americans have an S-tier commander, Don Houston. If they choose him and his school, we can't beat him. Even if we face them, do you think he and the other Americans will honor this deal?"

Shiho's eyes narrowed with resolve. "This is a risk we must take to protect the integrity of Sensha-do. We cannot allow our traditions to be diluted or overshadowed."

Ami interjected, "But, Ms. Nishizumi, what if we lose? The consequences could be devastating for our reputation and for Sensha-do as a whole."

Chiyo added, "And there's no guarantee that the Americans will honor the agreement even if they lose. They might see it as just another competition without the cultural significance we place on it."

Shiho stood firm. "That is why we must prepare meticulously and select the best of our teams. We need to showcase the true spirit and skill of Sensha-do. This is not just a battle of strength, but of culture and values."

Shichiro shook his head, still visibly concerned. "I understand your dedication, Ms. Nishizumi, but we must also be pragmatic. We need to ensure that our teams are not only the best but also understand the gravity of this challenge."

Shiho nodded. "I agree. We will hold rigorous selection trials and ensure that our team is not only skilled but also deeply committed to the principles of Sensha-do."

Ami sighed, knowing there was no turning back now. "Very well. We will support this endeavor, but we must approach it with both caution and determination."

Chiyo looked around the room, seeing the mixture of resolve and apprehension on the faces of the officials. "We need to rally the best teams and ensure they are ready for this challenge. This will be a true test of our tradition."

Shichiro, still uneasy but resigned, nodded. "We will do our best to support this effort. Let us hope that our tradition and skill will prevail."

Shiho took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her decision. "We will uphold the honor and integrity of Sensha-do. Let the preparations begin."

Meanwhile, Back at the States

In his dimly lit room, Don Houston sat scrolling through the channels on his TV, a cigarette hanging from his lips. The haze of smoke curled around him as he flicked through the stations, each click of the remote echoing his disinterest. Eventually, he paused on a news channel, where a reporter stood outside his school, Davy Crockett High School.

"...and Davy Crockett High School continues to hold its undefeated title, now ranked S-tier for their exceptional performance in tankery," the reporter announced with enthusiasm.

Houston sighed, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He watched as the reporter extolled the school's achievements, her voice a mixture of admiration and excitement. Tired of the relentless praise, he turned off the TV and stubbed out his cigarette. Rising from his chair, he made his way to bed, ready to leave the accolades behind for the night.

The morning sun illuminated the sprawling campus of Davy Crockett High School. The well-maintained courtyard bustled with students, and the various buildings dedicated to different subjects—English, Math, History, and Science—stood proudly in their respective sections. Off to the side, a large tankery yard drew attention with its multiple hangars and small barracks, a testament to the school's focus on this unique sport.

The training ground, expansive and meticulously organized, featured separate areas for infantry and tanks, ensuring safety during their rigorous exercises. The hum of activity filled the air as students prepared for another day of training and learning.

Inside the tankery yard, Houston walked among the tanks, his presence commanding respect. His team members greeted him with a mix of deference and camaraderie, aware of his reputation and the high standards he set.

Walking inside one of the hangars, Houston saw many tankers working on their tanks. As he approached his own tank, the M4A3E8 or 'Lone Star,' he noticed everything was in order.

Houston saw his crew working on their equipment. He called out to them, "Grant, Troy, Scott, and 'Machine,' get over here."

Grant, the tank loader, emerged from inside the tank, followed by Troy, the driver, Scott, the gunner, and Machine, the machine gunner. They stood at attention as Houston crossed his arms and looked at them.

"You called, Houston?" Grant said, his face mostly covered in grease and oil.

"Yeah, I did. Alright, fellas, listen up. Grant, you restock ammo and rations. Troy, get water and gas so we can be filled and ready. Once you're done, get something to eat and do what you can about the mechanical issues," Houston ordered as he began walking away.

"And where are you going?" Scott asked, watching Houston walk away.

"I'm going to take a shit. Haven't gone for the past three hours," Houston said out loud, heading to the restroom.

A few moments passed as Houston was seen washing his hands in the boys' restroom. He started drying his hands with a paper towel when he heard one of the tank crew members shout.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!" one of the M18 crew members shouted.

"Is this real?!" a crew member from the M4 Sherman exclaimed.

Groaning, Houston finished drying his hands and stepped outside the restroom. He saw his team surrounding a board with a paper pinned to it.

"What is this?" Houston asked, approaching the group.

"You don't see this, Commander? We are going against the Japanese schools for a match," one of the M26 Pershing crew members spoke.

"Wait, really?" Houston was taken aback by the news.

"Yeah, look for yourself," Troy said, pointing at the paper pinned to the board.

Houston looked at the paper and saw that it was indeed true. For the first time ever, America and Japan would be hosting an international tank battle to determine the best tankers in the two countries. Excitement rippled through the group as they discussed the upcoming match and the prospect of facing off against Japanese schools.

As the boys chattered excitedly, Houston heard Troy calling for him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Hey, Houston!" Troy called out.

"What's wrong, Troy?" Houston asked.

"You've got a video call on your laptop," Troy said.

"From whom?" Houston inquired, curious about the unexpected call.

"Kansas Chief's High, Iowa High, and Midtown High! Every high school's commanders are having a meeting, and they are waiting for you," Troy explained.

Walking up to his laptop, Houston placed it on the table and joined the call. Once he connected, he saw over fifty tank commanders from across the fifty states of America.

"Finally, Texas joins. We were about to start without you," the California Tank Commander remarked upon seeing Houston.

"Well, I'm here now. What's going on?" Houston announced, ready to engage in the discussion.

"Well, Houston, we are talking about the prompt that we all received from our coaching staff and the American Tanker Official. Apparently, the girls in Japan who do Sensha-do are challenging all the schools that participate in tankery in America," Elijah said.

"Are you going to tell them what happens to the winner or loser, or am I going to say it, Kansas?" the North Dakota Commander interjected, eager to get to the critical part.

"I'm getting to that part," Elijah responded, trying to maintain order.

"Wait, what's wrong with the winner or loser part?" a Florida Commander asked, sensing the tension.

"So, yeah, I'm going to explain. If the Japanese schools manage to beat us in this match, the American Tanker Official will be forced to shut down the tankery sport in America," Elijah explained.

"WHAT!" All 49 states' commanders and Houston shouted in surprise.

"THAT'S BULLSHIT!" the North Carolina Commander shouted in anger.

"Do they have any idea why we love these sports? They can't shut it down!" the New York Commander exclaimed.

"I knew we should have dropped the third sun on them!" a Kentucky Commander spoke out, eliciting silence and deadpan expressions from the others.

"What?" the Kentucky Commander asked, confused by the reaction.

"Dude, what's wrong with you..." the Nebraska Commander said to Kentucky, shaking his head.

"Anyway, we are getting sidetracked, but the good news is, my fellow commanders, if we win this match against those schools in Japan, they will leave our sport alone," Elijah continued, steering the conversation back on track.

As the other 48 states' commanders began boasting about how their tank units would crush the competition, Houston stayed quiet, contemplating the logistics and implications of the match. How long would it last? Where would it be held?

"Houston, got something to say?" a Washington Commander asked, noticing Houston's silence.

"Yeah, I do. The question is, where are we going to have this match, and how long will it be? The reason I ask is because this is Japan we're talking about, a country in the Pacific Ocean to the East. We don't have battlefield areas here in our state lines from World War II—only the islands that were fought on during the war. So, my question is, where are we having the match?" Houston explained, raising a critical point.

"Well, Houston, I don't know where the match is going to be hosted or how long it will take. The staff will tell us that tomorrow," Elijah admitted, acknowledging the validity of Houston's concerns.

"Then, we shall wait and see," Houston said before leaving the call.

Houston then closed his laptop, leaned back, and stared at the ceiling, contemplating the implications of the upcoming challenge and what tomorrow might bring.

A/n: If your wondering why I'm posting Chapter one back here is that I was doing some rewrite to fix my grammar mistakes so you guy's can stop bugging me you Grammar Nazi's (I was joking on that last one)