Chapter 426 - My OC Stash #26 - The Generals Child by Watchinkid (YoujoSenki) (1/2)

-No matter what Erich does, Tanya's just inevitable/

Synopsis: The world has come crashing down. Yet Erich von Lergen finds himself in the most peculiar place, back in time. There are so many things to do. So many things to remember. Perhaps things wouldn't be so bad if one of the key people tied to all that's happened in his memories is put through different circ_u_mstances?

TL;DR Timetravel!Lergen adopts Tanya.

Rated: ???

Words: 24K

Posted on: forums.spacebattles.com/threads/the-generals-child-youjo-senki.868318/ (Watchinkid)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

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Chapter 1

Erich von Lergen:

Dying painfully wasn't something he would've wanted to properly put into words. No doubt there was a sensation he would've been able to describe if he had the time and proper place. But as things were, Erich von Lergen wasn't in such a position.

No, he remembered a sting, one that grew, one that came to encompass. Then nothing. Just blackness. It was almost as if something was over his eyes, preventing him from seeing anything.

Eternity looked to be even bleaker really, all of that, for an endless void? It was quiet. Too quiet. There was no eeriness, not even dread. It reminded him of the quiet between volleys, or between the shellings. A negative calm. A negative sense of peace.

Still, he supposed that such things were things he was supposed to take comfort in.

Then the sound of chirping birds came. That was odd. Erich made to move, realizing that indeed, he could feel his arms. He shot up, the pillow covering he eyes had fallen to the side. And he scrambled first to check the place where he remembered the distinct pain that led to the darkness came from.

Only said pain wasn't there, There wasn't even a blemish. He turned to the right, with his hands idly reaching for his spectacles.

Once the blur had faded and his eyes had adjusted the first thing through his mind was that he hadn't remembered the last time he saw this room as tidy. The sun was out and up, he could head the faint sounds of the hustle and bustle far away.

His gaze turned to the clock and to the calendar. At first glance, he thought that the numbers at the top weren't right. When was the last time he changed it? The whole thing was all wrong. Had he neglected this place that much?

Upon closer inspection, and the gradual clearing from grogginess, he then noted the lack of extremely important doc_u_ments on his desk. Only forms that looked rather familiar. He inched toward them, thumbing at the papers.

I haven't needed a use for these since… He thought, he looked again, to another set of papers. He read the date. ”August, 1919,” The words came out, almost in disbelief.

He looked again, first out the window, then to the doc_u_ments. This didn't seem to be some sort of purgatory. And even if it was, he wondered if anything he'd heard the priests and preachers say had any connection to what he was in now. Surely the afterlife wasn't some arbitrary point in his youth?

A flick of the radio switch said enough. There was news, the expected announcements, and a little song he hadn't heard in a long while. The man speaking through was chipper and optimistic, in contrast to the rather dread-filled tones he remembered the man barely hid.

”Sir Erich, is everything alright?” He heard the knock on the door. A voice he hadn't remembered hearing in a very long while. ”Sir Erich?” The knock came at the door.

The head maid of the house peeked in, he remembered her from when he was younger, She looked worried, ”We heard heavy footsteps from downstairs, is there anything wrong?���

He didn't have a reply at first, if this was some sort of post-death illusion. Then whoever was in charge of it was doing a very good job. ”At the risk of sounding mad Helga, what Day, month and year is it?”

”The tenth of August, 1919,” the old lady spoke, ”Are you feeling well young Erich?, you seemed to be in a daze the previous night, none of us thought to bother you on the way up.”

He nodded slowly, ”It's nothing Helga, I've just been thinking about some things. See if you can have old Hans bring my food upstairs.”

The old servant chuckled, ”You haven't asked him to do that in years Erich, what's gotten into you? Oh nevermind then, I'll head down to tell him.” The door closed after, and the steps echoed in the distance.

Fifteen minutes later Erich von Lergen sat down and took stock of his options. All the while his mind raced to remember key and crucial details as best he could.

The war, they had lost the war. Far too much had been lost, and he doubted that the victors would've been all that lenient to the defeated. Not after all the blood spilled, not after all the shells and broken lives.

Where had it all gone bad? He wondered, where was the single point where things would've pivoted the right or wrong path? He looked as some birds flew by, Degurechaff, the words came out. Yes, he supposed that was where things might've started.

But then again, there were probably a dozen other factors that could've been all contributing to their slow decline. The problems borne of Degurechaff's victories notwithstanding.

The world was already primed for disaster, 'a powder keg ready and waiting' part of his mind echoed. He ignored that part. The hopelessness always had a way of gnawing at him, no matter how small the morsels he allowed it to bite at.

He wrestled those particular thoughts down. He had a chance.

He looked to the side, his uniform tunic had been haphazardly discarded on the floor. Erich sighed, well, at least he had the chance to go through it with all he'd learned. Perhaps he'd rise through the rank faster this time.

Even so, there was the issue of Tanya Degurechaff. Her inclusion in all of what happened was key to why and how they got to where they were.

Even if he had all the things in line, even if he was able to reach his former rank sooner, he wasn't sure about how she would factor into all those events along the way. Or if she would simply go about doing things the same way they did before.

No… He needed a way to keep an eye on her, perhaps a way to ensure that the path of the bayonet and rifle wasn't something she'd head towards.

Gears turned, and for a while considered what could be done. There was the matter of the orphanage, He remembered hearing about it once, it was a rather underfunded place, Degurechaff had even admitted to going hungry more than once. Had that factored into her choice? He didn't remember.

And even then he wasn't sure if he could justify any sort of surveillance over the place either. She'd still find herself at a point where the recruitment office was preferable.

Unless… Erich thought, he spent the rest of the day like that, The Sunday passed, he hadn't left his room at all.

...

He left his home the next morning. He'd stopped at a bank halfway. After walking out he checked his timepiece, It was late in the morning. That left him with enough time to remember just exactly where Degurechaff had been raised.

”Now… where is it?” He muttered to himself. A few minutes later, there were a lot of orphanages in Berun, he remembered it being somewhere in the outskirts. ”Well, enough to narrow it down I suppose.”

…

It had taken a while to find the orphanage. There weren't that many of them in the outskirts, and so he'd gone looking. The other ones didn't match the description he remembered. This was the last one on the list.

He knocked at the church door, noting the sorry state of the wood. The nun who answered and opened it looked like she'd seen better days. She probably cut down on her own eating to make room for the children.

...

It was lunchtime he noted, from what he could see, it was probably one of the few times the orphanage could afford to have a lunchtime anyway. His eyes scanned the room, two boys fought over a loaf of bread, one complaining while a more well fed one gloated.

Had it really been that bad? He thought. His mind went through the motions. The strain at the end of the war hit everyone. Yet her eyes didn't flag or waver. No complaint came, only perseverance. Maybe she remembered this.

His gaze settled on a table at the far corner, illuminated by a window. She was there, and she was small, smaller than he remembered ever seeing her. She had bags under her eyes. And much like the child clamoring for his stolen bread, didn't seem to be eating anything.

A few seconds later her hand came up, if only for a moment, and a piece of bread came with it. Her eyes shifted again, taking note of the other children. Waiting for their gazes to avert, or waiting for them to take another bite out of their loaves before she deigned to repeat.

”That one,” He muttered, just loud enough for the Sister to hear. ”The little blond girl at the corner table.”

”There's three of them at the corner table good sir,” The nun spoke,

”The clever one, hiding her food.” He answered. ”There,”

The nun turned to him nodding. ”Tanya?” The nun spoke, he nodded, his guess was confirmed at least. ”Oh she's a quiet little dear. Worry not sir Lergen, she's not the type to cause a fuss.”

Oh if you only knew Sister. He was tempted to say. A few signatures on paper and he was off to a side room, waiting.

There was no recognition in her eyes at least. He wasn't sure if that was a relief.

The little girl walked into the room in what the nuns must've thought to be her best dress. It was a little dirty, there were small patches the nuns must've hastily sewn on.