Chapter Text
18th May 1935
The Blytonbury Palace cinema was mostly empty as Akko and Diana carefully edged their way along the narrow row of leather lined wooden chairs. Despite the matinee being less than a tenth full a haze of cigarette smoke hung in the air, illuminated by the projector's beam which shone through the darkness.
A darkness that was, for the two young witches, a welcome sanctuary that hid their illicit date from prying and judgemental eyes. Theirs was a forbidden love, made illegal by law, so dates had to be disguised as trips out with a friend, and public displays of affection kept at nothing more than a linked arm or held hand, nothing that would arouse suspicion. But near the back of the dim, nearly empty cinema they could be together as their true selves and enjoy an hour or so where they might simply be two lovers.
And as if to prove the point, as soon as Diana had taken her seat next to the excitable Japanese witch, Akko had grabbed a hold of her cloak and pulled her into a deep kiss. Diana's eyes went wide with panic as she feared someone might see, but after a moment she let her worries go and relaxed into the kiss.
They had arrived just in time for the newsreels as a cockerel appeared accompanied by the title BRITISH PATHÉ NEWS.
The first story, something about the chancellor of Germany, passed by virtually unnoticed so enraptured in their secret tryst were they, but as that reel ended Akko quickly broke off the kiss with an excited, breathless gasp of,
“It's on, it's on!”
Puffing slightly and feeling more than a little flushed, Diana sat back in her chair and tried to focus on the film.
A title card flashed up on the screen; ROYAL NEWS; A MEETING WITH MAGIC.
The title cut to footage of a Rolls Royce flying the Royal standard pulling up at Blytonbury Town Hall, then of the Prince of Wales, dressed in a Royal Naval uniform, stepping out and returning the salute of the awaiting Lord Lieutenant of Somerset.
“At a reception held at Blytonbury Town Hall, His Royal Highness, Edward, the Prince of Wales, met seven of the nine witches who so heroically endeavoured and succeeded in thwarting evil earlier this year,” reported the narrator in his clearly trained precise RP accent.
The screen cut to footage of Akko and her friends all lined up, awaiting the prince. Akko squealed with excitement at seeing her friends on the big screen. Diana tried to roll her eyes, but instead broke into a chuckle at her girlfriend's expression of happiness.
“The young witches, all students’ at the most ancient and prestigious Luna Nova Academy, were each introduced to the Heir to the Throne, who thanked them for their services in securing world peace.”
Akko grabbed her arm and pointed at the screen as Diana watched herself, dressed in her formal school uniform appear in the footage, curtseying for the prince.
“The introductions were led by Lady Diana Cavendish, whom upon reaching her majority shall inherit the title of Countess Wedinburgh and was one of seven who rode in pursuit of the infamous Noir Bomber.”
“Working his way along the line, the prince met each of the witches in training, all of whom hail from different corners of the world and truly represent the best of the female race.”
“From the United States, Ms Amanda O'Neill; from Germany, Ms Constanze Amalie von Braunschbank-Albrechtsberger.”
With each name read out the screen showed first the prince shaking hands with the individual witch and then a separate shot of them looking into the camera; Amanda smirking, Constanze frowning.
“From the Soviet Union Ms Jasminka Antonenko; save some for the rest of us comrade!”
This time Diana couldn't help but roll her eyes in annoyance. Of course they had to film Jasminka when her plate was heavily laden with food from the generous buffet that had been laid on.
“And from the frozen northern lands of Finland Ms Lotte Janson.”
Lotte gave a timid wave to the camera.
The soundtrack then changed from a generic piece of rising grandiose music full of pomp and ceremony, to a stereotypically “Asian” piece of music that was deliberately brooding. It was a style of music that Akko said was used by Westerners who couldn't differentiate between Japanese, Chinese or Korean cultures and saw East Asia as one homogeneous civilization that should be regarded with both intrigue and mistrust (well, Akko hadn't actually said homogeneous herself, in fact Diana doubted she knew what the English translation of the word meant, but the inference was there).
“The Asiatic Peoples were also represented. From the American Philippines, Ms Sucy Manbarvaran whom the prince feared might turn him into a frog. And from the mysterious Far East Ms Atsuko Kagari of Japan who, along with Lady Cavendish, fired the arrow that destroyed the bomber, truly bringing honour to her ancestors!”
A cut in the film took the screen from Akko bowing genuinely for the prince, to a set up shot of her giving a deep bow to the camera. Her girlfriend's on screen counterpart was smiling broadly, however Diana recognised the awkwardness of her expression and the rigidity of her movement.
“Surely with such bright and charming young ladies spread around the world we may look forward to a future of international cooperation and understanding.”
Cut to the Prince climbing into the Rolls Royce, waved off by herself, Akko, Lotte, and Jasminka. This shot of them waving had been staged after the prince had already departed as it was felt by the director that Sucy's lacklustre wave during the real departure was ill fitting in a piece of royal news, and the less said about Amanda and Constanze's gestures towards the prince the better, except to say they were hence forth banned from any further meetings with royalty.
“After the reception the prince travelled to Devonport where he attended a dinner aboard HMS Valiant.”
Another title card flashed up, but Diana had turned to Akko whose stony face told her all she needed to know about her response to the film.
“Wow, could they be any more patronising?” muttered Akko.
“Hmm, yes, they were rather unkind weren't they...” agreed Diana.
“I mean, “truly bring honour to her ancestors?” what do they think this is, the Edo Period?!”
“And I felt that they were most rude about Sucy and Jasminka,” reflected the young heiress, remembering the narrator’s comments on Sucy like she was something out of a bad fairy-tale, or Jasminka and her laden plate.
“I know, right!” Akko threw her hands up in the air in exaggerated exasperation, then slumped back into her chair in a huff. After a moment however, she turned to look at Diana, a smile on her face again.
“Still at least someone looked good in her robes, Lady Cavendish,” said Akko with a coy smirk, placing a hand upon Diana's knee.
“And you didn’t look too bad either, Ms Kagari,” replied Diana as she leant over to meet her girlfriend’s lips. But no sooner had their lips brushed against each other than Akko once again pulled away and faced the screen.
“Hey, hey, it's starting!” said Akko, her exuberant enthusiasm returning once again.
The brunette witch sat forward in her seat, eagerly watching as the title card appeared on the screen.
“THE LITTLE WITCH AND THE WRONG BROOM”
On screen a cartoon character, the titular Little Witch, appeared riding her broom towards a zoo across a landscape of looped drawn backgrounds. The witch had shoulder length hair which framed her face, a distinctive fringe, and a half ponytail on the top of her head. Her face was round, buck toothed and perpetually happy and, despite her cartoon like design, undoubtedly based upon the real Akko.
How the Japanese witch had managed to get her own series of animated shorts was beyond Diana, but some Hollywood executive, after seeing the excitement caused by the return of magic, had chosen Akko to be the basis of their new cartoon character. Akko was, needless to say, over the moon at having her likeness chosen for a series of short films (her parents even more so for the royalties that they were paid).
Akko adored the animated films being produced by both America and Japan. She was fascinated by the production process and how they used exaggerated expression and physical movements to tell the story. She loved how worlds could be created that were fantastic or whimsical and how animation allowed stories to be told that would otherwise be impossible to portray with live action films.
However, she did have complaints about the Japanese animation industry; namely just how militarised and jingoistic some of her homeland’s productions were. In order to compete with the American produced films, Japanese animators often had to turn to the government, or even the military, for assistance to make their films viable, and in return for that help the government wanted propaganda.
Still, all thoughts of politics seemed a million miles away to Akko right now as she sat on the edge of the seat watching her animated counterpart navigate her way through a fairly predictable conundrum.
The Little Witch, whilst ordering an ice cream cone, had put her broom aside for a moment only for it to be taken by a zoo keeper mistaking it for a mundane broom. Cue a monkey stealing the real broom and an ensuing chase through the various pens, Akko transforming into the appropriate animal that inhabited each enclosure until at last she had recovered her broom.
The cartoon was undoubtedly cute, but Diana soon stopped paying attention to the film and instead looked at her girlfriend.
The real life Akko was entirely engrossed by the animated short, happily gazing at the screen with a beaming smile, her eyes wide as she watched the onscreen antics. Seeing her gleeful expression, Diana could do nothing but smile lovingly in return, more than content to bask in her girlfriend’s happiness.
The cartoon version of her girlfriend was adorable, but Diana couldn't help but feel indifferent towards her. That Akko belonged to the world; her films distributed to hundreds of cinemas and movie theatres throughout the UK, the empire, and the US where thousands would no doubt fall in love with the animated Japanese witch. But to Diana there could only ever be one true Little Witch, and she was sat beside her, and that witch and that witch alone commanded her heart.
In the darkness of the cinema, Diana rested her head upon her girlfriend's shoulder and wished this moment of bliss would never end.
3rd September 1939
It was 11:09. A heavy hush fell over the drawing room of Cavendish Hall as all waited with bated breath for 11:15 to arrive. Earlier in the morning news had been spread via the radio that at 11:15 on that warm summer’s day, a message would be broadcast by the Prime Minister informing the British public whether or not his promise of ‘Peace in our Time’ had held true, or whether the Germans would press on with their invasion of Poland regardless of Anglo-French demands.
Diana wanted to believe that the Germans would see sense and that they would back down. No one in Britain wanted another war, not so soon after the supposed “War to End All Wars”, so surely the Germans must likewise want to avoid more needless and pointless death and destruction. She then thought of Constanze, of her stern but kind nature, and wondered whether she too was listening for news from her Führer. Constanze worked for a German aviation company providing aircraft to the Luftwaffe, so the idea of her friend being a part of an enemy war machine was equal parts ridiculous and saddening.
She and Akko’s one relief had been that Constanze had assured them after the Munich Crisis last year, that she was no party member and that she considered the Nazis a vile blight on Germany. But at the same time, she had acknowledged that her company’s work would have floundered were it not for state sponsorship of their designs and research.
Constanze may not be a National Socialist, but she was a German; and an unbidden voice inside her head reminded Diana just how stubborn and proud her German friend could be. Once Constanze had worked her way into a situation it was nigh on impossible to get her to back down or admit fault. More worryingly, if Constanze’s feelings had been hurt, or she felt wronged in anyway, she would take this extremely personally, and Diana had seen the wrath of the silent German played out on her fellow witches many a time.
But could the attitude of one witch really be exemplary of an entire nation? Diana could see the pride with which Herr Hitler had instilled the German people, something that came naturally to Conzy, and knew that this national pride had taken a beating since the end of the Great War, but surely even pride could only drive someone so far.
11:13. The tension in the air by now was palpable. No one said a thing; even the normally chatty Maril and Merrill were silent, sat next to each other on the chaise longue, their hands resting gently on each other’s and their faces fraught with worry.
The twin’s mother Daryl on the other hand sat by herself, sunken into a wing back chair, a glass of whisky and ice in her hand and a stern, hardened look on her face, but even Diana could see the pain and worry. Daryl had worked in an Army hospital in Sussex during the last war and had seen first-hand the human cost of war, even on those who had survived.
Thinking of the losses inflicted by the war of 1914-1918, Diana Looked over to the large oak sideboard on the other side of the room, and stared at a photograph which she had always treasured, but one which made the potential outcome of today’s announcement all the more painful.
Even without looking at it Diana could have described the family portrait in minute detail. Her father, dressed in the uniform of a Coldstream Guards officer, cradling a two week old Diana and cooing to her whilst her mother looked at the pair with adoring eyes. Her father had been wounded during the German Spring Offensive of 1918 and sent home on leave to recuperate, thus allowing him to be present for the birth of his daughter. There was such happiness in both her parent’s eyes, yet it was not to last. The photograph was taken two weeks before her father was killed during a German trench raid when Diana had been less than five weeks old.
Her mother had never fully recovered from the loss. Her health already ailing, she had fought on for another seven years, time enough to build lasting memories for Diana, something Bernadette had so desperately wished to do, but in the end the war claimed her mother as well. War had already taken away enough from Diana and her stomach turned as she thought what else it might rob her of.
She felt a squeeze on her arm. Turning to her immediate right she found herself looking directly into the gleaming red eyes of Akko, who having seen the faint tell-tale traces of worry spread across her girlfriend’s face, offered her a soft, calming smile. Wordlessly she asked if Diana was alright, and Diana nodded, even if she didn’t feel it.
The Grandfather clock chimed quarter past, and as it did so, a voice issued forth from the radio.
“This is London. You will now hear a statement by the Prime Minister.”
Looking directly at the wireless, as though Neville Chamberlain himself would appear, Diana reached for Akko’s hand and felt a momentary tug of relief as the Japanese witch interlaced her fingers with Diana’s, gently enclosing their hands together.
“I am speaking to you from the Cabinet Room of 10 Downing Street,” The radio crackled with the softly spoken, yet clearly weary voice of the Prime Minister. Daryl noticeably shifted in her seat, sitting slightly more upright, as Akko’s grip on her hand tightened in nervous anticipation.
“This morning the British ambassador in Berlin handed the German government a final note stating that unless we heard from them by 11 o'clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us.”
There seemed a momentary silence, in reality probably less than a beat, but still heavy with meaning as the magnitude of his words sunk in and the world as Diana knew it balanced on a knife edge.
“I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany.”
Maril let out a stifled gasp, as Akko leant against Diana.
The Prime Minister continued his speech, explaining why they were at war and how Hitler had left Britain and France with no option but to face the bully tyrant head on, yet as he spoke he seemed increasingly broken and saddened. And as his voice drained of energy and optimism, so too did the room slowly succumb to the weight of the news. Daryl sagged and silently took a sip from her whisky, letting the scotch dull the news, whilst the two twins held each other, silent tears running down their faces.
Diana closed her eyes as she felt her shoulders drop in resignation to the inevitable. Then, just as all seemed lost, Akko released her hand and instead wrapped her right arm in a loving and reassuring embrace. Diana looked at her girlfriend, into those red eyes that were so comforting and calming and all her dread vanished. It was the same look that she had seen in her eyes as they rode the Shooting Star after the Noir Bomber; the same mixture of fierce determination and unwavering hope that had caused her heart to flutter happily and allowed Diana to believe in a happy ending.
The future was uncertain and frightening, yet Diana knew that, as long as she had this wonderful and eternally optimistic girl by her side, everything would be alright.
7th December 1941
Diana sat alone in her bedroom, desperately clutching the fabric of her dressing gown, and willing the tears she felt pricking her eyes to stay inside her head. She had heard excited rumours begin to spread through the castle of an attack that would bring America into the war on the side of the British, yet she prayed that they were false. She had to remain calm. She told herself that this was only hearsay and that everything would be alright; that this was only the latest rumour of US intervention in the war and that the news would dispel it. Yet she knew deep down she was just in denial. She had seen it in patients and their loved ones, when she had delivered bad news, but had only once before been on the receiving end of such life altering news, and even then she had only been a child.
Looking at the clock on her vanity she saw it was almost the hour, so leant forward to switch on the wireless. The last of the pips marking the hour echoed through the room to be replaced by a man’s voice speaking in a clear, precise tone.
“This is the BBC Home Service. Here is the news, and this is Alvar Lidell reading it.”
Diana held her breath, praying that what he was about to read was not the news she feared, the news that would not only turn her world upside down but take away from her the last thing she held so very dear in this life.
“Japan’s long threatened aggression in the Far East began tonight with air attacks on United States Naval Bases in the Pacific.”
“No… no…” she whispered to herself as she began to feel cold.
“Fresh reports are coming in every minute. The latest facts of the situation are these; Messages from Tokyo say that Japan has announced a formal declaration of war against both the United States and Britain.”
…and Britain… Diana’s heart dropped and at once she felt as though everything around her was unreal, as though she were in a dream; a nightmare which warped and distorted the world.
“Japan’s attacks on naval bases in the pacific were announced by President Roosevelt in a statement from the White House tonight. The first statement said…”
Diana turned the radio set off, unable to listen further to the news which, within the space of less than a minute, had taken what happiness and joy she felt in the world, and smothered it with despair. Scrunching up and twisting her gown in her hands, she felt like she wanted to scream, yet when she opened her mouth all that came out was a broken, ragged wail. Tears ran down her cheeks and she gasped for air as snot began to block her nose. Everything was gone, everyone she loved scattered, and for the first time in so many years, Diana felt alone; so truly and soul crushingly alone. The room, which had moments ago felt so snug and homely, now felt giant and cold, as though all the colour and warmth had drained away.
She had no idea how long she sat there, her head buried in her hands as she sobbed uncontrollably, but eventually she felt her body will her to move, to do something, anything besides just sit there and mourn.
Getting to her feet, she began to wander aimlessly, seeing yet not knowing where she was walking until in a state of shocked delirium she found herself stood at the mantle of her fireplace, leaning on it as she fought to control the sickening feeling consuming her, replacing the sorrow with the realisation that this was indeed reality and not some nightmare. Her heart, pulsing rapidly with pain and fear, felt as though it wanted to force its way up her throat which constricted and strained with each sob.
Taking a ragged gasp of air, she lifted her head and immediately felt a tingling sensation as the first thing she saw was a photograph. Everything stilled as she picked it up with a shaking hand and studied it. Diana choked at the image and the two smiling faces looking back at her.
Stood before a shrine in Kyoto, the name of which she couldn’t remember at that moment, she looked at the youthful and joyous faces of Akko and herself; both dressed in Kimonos, both with parasols over their shoulders as they leant on each other, arm in arm and smiled at the camera.
This moment of perfect joy and happiness, captured in sepia tones, had once brought out memories of adventure and youthful, innocent love. It had made Diana’s heart soar and wish to fly away to Akko in that distant land where so many happy memories had been made. But now looking at the photograph Diana felt bitter, and the frame weighed heavy in her grasp. She looked at herself in the picture and an angry voice told her she should feel foolish for allowing herself to be dressed up like some porcelain doll for a visit to a shrine… to dress like the enemy.
She let go of the frame, and barely registered when it hit the wooden floorboards beneath her, the glass pane cracking and the wooden joins separating.
Japan was the enemy. Akko… no, Atsuko Kagari was the enemy. She told herself this and that it was now her duty to forget her. She told herself that she must steel her heart, forget what they once had and instead do her duty for the war effort by focusing on her patients.
Yet her eyes drifted to their shared bed and to the blue silk pyjamas laid carefully out on the duvet on Akko’s side of the four-poster. Diana wandered clumsily over, and lay down atop the cover, curling into a ball as she took the fine silk shirt in hand and brought it to her nose. It smelt of perfume; it smelt of Akko. Clutching the shirt to her chest she breathed in the aroma of her girlfriend as she curled tighter into herself, cursing the vast distance between them, and the men who would divide the world for nought but their own personal gain.
Alone in her despair she barely heard the sound of a car pull up on the gravel drive outside, nor the sound of a hand banging heavily against the wooden front doors of the castle. Instead, she just whispered sadly to herself, in the hopes that her words might transcend the distance between them,
“Akko…, Akko…”