A/N: The personalities of some characters are inspired by other canons, but the story takes place in its own universe. You also might see some references to other stories (such as Belated Battleships and the famous Rulebook), but again I have no intentions of following them.

This is also the first time I've tried writing something of this length-feel free to critique it and/or correct any glaring historical inaccuracies.

It's also being updated regularly on SpaceBattles as well if you lurk there. I also didn't mention a list of characters in the thread since a lot of ship girls make cameos or play important roles at different parts of the story.

Prologue: Not Yet

The salty sea breeze stung her eyes as she looked out across the entrance of Tokyo Bay. It had been a long time since she had been home at Yokosuka, but this time would be her last.

She tried not to think about too deeply about her imminent demise. From a leader's standpoint it was perfectly understandable; she wasn't the powerful goddess of war that she had been in her youth. It had been decades since her last real scrap with the country's enemies. She could barely remember the din of battle, the furious gnashing of teeth as gunners scrambled to bring her guns to bear and officers swearing at the shells screaming overhead.

The smile that came to her lips at the remembrance of such memories faded back into a stiff upper lip as another gust of wind quickly brought her back to reality. Since her glorious hour, Japan had constructed several newer, faster, and to be quite frank superior ships than herself. What she could barely even hope to reach with her horrifically dated coincidence rangefinders was spitting distance for her newer counterparts. Yet not even that was enough to save them from the death sentence that also awaited her. From the corner of her eye she could see the drydock where one of her successors-to-be dwelt in her berth, deep in sleep, never to awake. A tragedy it was that the people who beckoned them to answer the call to battle were also the same ones to condemn to oblivion.

"Tea, dess?" A small porcelain cup entered her field of vision. "We Vickers ships should stick together, whatever the weather!" the spritely brunette tittered as she affectionately patted her on the back.

She curtly nodded and accepted in the invitation. Under normal circumstances she would consider it impolite to not face the deliverer of such a treat, but she didn't need to look up to know who was the owner of voice ever-so-slightly-English-accented Japanese. It was the spritely young battlecruiser, and the last of her-no their-kind. Now that the country had its own capable shipwrights and shipyards, there was no need to send orders abroad to England to construct ships, and her native-built colleagues had no interest in speaking in an unfamiliar tongue.

Of course, it hadn't always been that way…

It had been first day in her new home, and not a day too soon. Traveling across the world had worn her out, and she could almost kill for food and rest.

Actually, scratch that, she couldn't; no doubt uttering that phrase in front of her new comrades would be scandalous. She was a Japanese-ordered ship for the Imperial Japanese Navy; that she was built in an English shipyard was-

"DON'T CALL ME MUMMY, YA GIT!" roared a deep voice as a girl scurried past down the hall, giggling like a maniac and giving the newcomer no notice. There was an audible sigh from the office that the mischief-maker had ran out from.

"Sorry about that Fuji, I swear 'Shiki is harder to reign in than Katherina herself."

"She's young yet," came a soft voice. "Give her time to acclimate."

"Asahi, a reminder that she is older than you," growled yet another voice. "The reasoning that she hasn't 'gotten used to Japan' yet is complete codswallop."

"I say," grunted the first voice, "If the newcomer is anything like Shikishima I am personally shipping her back to England in-" a short, stout woman peeped out from the office and promptly gazed straight at her.

"Oh. Hello there."

Two more faces immediately emerged from the doorway. The first of the two gazed at her with curiosity and gave a shy wave. The other glared at her sternly, yet gracefully. There was no doubt that of three judging her in that moment that she was the leader.

Her theory was proven correct when said stern gazer immediately approached her with a firm hand held out in greeting.

"I am Yashima, the younger sister of Fuji. I have been explicitly designated as command ship of the fleet should we be ever be sent out to do our duty and protect this country. In the meantime we have two rules." Yashima promptly grabbed her by the collar.

"One. No frolicking. Absolutely no frolicking whatsoever. Not even in your dreams. One childish battleship is enough. Clear?"

She nodded.

"Two. You will help us put on a Shakespearean play for the destroyers. Tonight. 6 o'clock. Understood?"

It took all of her strength not to giggle. Asahi on the other hand was unable to restrain herself, and immediately fell to the floor laughing. Even Fuji, the woman who had gave her an ominous threat, sent Yashima a 'Seriously?' look.

Yashima shrugged. "What? I think English is brilliant. I know we're supposed to be speaking mostly Japanese now since that's the language our superiors will be speaking in, but come on. Shakespeare! Charles Dickens! You can't expect me to just pretend they don't exist?!"

"Heeey, did you like the brew?"

It wasn't until she was on the last sip that she realized the nature of the tea she had been drinking. It was strong, stronger than anything she had prepared or smelled in a long time.

It was black tea. English tea.

She couldn't recall what happened, but one moment she was savoring the remnants of her tea and the next she was sobbing, burying her face in the battlecruiser's chest for comfort.

"Now, now," the battlecruiser soothed as she shakily tried to wipe the tears off her friend's face. "Quiet, please." Her fingers rapped impatiently as she tried to find a way to distract the ship from her woes.

"Tell me a story, dess!" Her friend looked up, though she was still silently crying.

"Tell you a story? Shouldn't be in the other way around?"

"Noooo! It's not every day that a ship runs off with a dashing admiral into the sunset, fights off an entire fleet, and live to tell the tale!"

The absurdity of the battlecruiser's claim had the desired effect. The sniffling subsided slightly and was shortly thereafter replaced with a faint giggle.

"One, I didn't 'run off with him', he was assigned to me. Two, I didn't fight off that fleet alone."

"Oh, but he liked you and made you his flagship!" The battlecruiser clasped her hands together and sighed dreamily. "One day I will show my commander my burning love, and he cannot escape me!"

Her friend was certain, perhaps slightly certain, that a shower of sparks rained down upon them at that very moment the battlecruiser demonstrated an example of her "burning love".

"I hope for your sake and mine that your love is not literally burning. Mind you, if you burned him, there would be nothing left of him," she deadpanned. Much to her concern, the battlecruiser seemed to actually ponder whether or not it was a good idea before nodding vigorously.

"Now, storytime, dess!"

At that moment a bell chimed in the distance. It was 2 o'clock in the afternoon.

The Diet should be done explaining the terms of treaty to the Navy by now, she thought, unconsciously clenching and unclenching her fists. No, she's right. There's no point in thinking about it now. Whatever happens, happens.

She cleared her throat. "This is a story that I heard Admiral share with the captain during his studies abroad. There was once a vice-admiral in the English navy who was given orders to encourage the Danes into entering an alliance by defeating the Danish navy surrounding their capital, Copenhagen…"

"…and so he landed in Copenhagen to speak with Crown Prince. Needless to say the populace was none too happy at his intrusion, but he succeeded where his superior thought he could not. All by turning a blind eye to his superior's orders."

"And indeed, one of Nelson's finer moments."

The two turned around and were promptly greeted by the sight of an elderly mustachioed man approaching them. Even though he was not dressed in the conventional attire of the Japanese navy, there was no doubt to who he was.

"Gensui!" the battlecruiser saluted. The officer promptly saluted her back.

"That will do, Kongō. I appreciate you keeping her in good company while the Navy was given the…less than agreeable terms of the treaty. It is good to know who your friends are in times of uncertainty." Both of them shared uneasy glances as the ship in question turned her gaze forlornly back to the sea.

"It is best that I speak with her privately," he said gently. "Too many people might give her anxiety."

Kongō internally debated giving him a knowing glance but decided against it. Even she knew that there was a time and place for such jokes. Before she would leave them in peace, however, there was one last question that was a burning a hole in her mind.

"Gensui, about the treaty. Are the four of us…" she began, but he immediately nodded.

"It seems like it was a close call, but signers agreed that you and your sisters can remain in service. That said, there are some that didn't make it," he said grimly.

The battlecruiser's eyes widened and looked entreatingly at her friend, before sighing sadly and walking away. Only the officer and Kongō's friend remained on the ledge overlooking Tokyo Bay.

The silence was deafening. For what seemed like hours neither of them spoke.

"I feel sorry for her."

He looked up and realized she was referring to the battleship sitting silently on the stocks at the distant shipyard and sighed.

"It was inevitable given the terms of the treaty. The delegates fought tooth and nail against the 'battleship holiday' proposal and even then ships such as Mutsu barely escaped the cutter's torch. Kaga was a forgone conclusion."

She paused momentarily before giving him a hopeful look.

"You mentioned 'battleship holiday'…does that mean-?"

"I'm afraid not. The Navy was given explicit orders to scrap, destroy, or eliminate existing battleships as well until it met the terms of the treaty."

At that news her anxiety returned.

"Ikoma?"

"To be disarmed and then scrapped."

"Katori? Kashima?"

"Likewise."

"'Tsu?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Satsuma? I thought you hated her."

"As much as I despise that pretentious hag, even I wouldn't celebrate her demise."

There was a brief chuckle at her disparaging remark before being replaced by a wry smile. "The Navy didn't think so either. They're planning on using her as gunnery practice for the newer ships."

He could almost the sound of her jaw dropping to the ground in disbelief.

"Then I guess…there's no hope…" her voice trailed off. "Did Fuji even make it?"

The only thing he could do was slowly shake his head in denial. "They've already started removing her armament."

"I guess this is what they call 'the changing of the guard.'"

For the first time in their entire conversation she passed him a sidelong glance. It never ceased to amaze him how graceful she looked even when the situation permitted her to indulge in her true emotions. Perhaps that was why he was so drawn to her the moment she appeared to him on that dreadful winter morning eighteen years ago.

"Look at you now," she continued, flicking his epaulettes. "You are just as helpless as I am. Once upon a time even the Emperor deferred to your decisions. Now? You would be hard pressed to have a minister lend you his ears, let alone discuss your concerns."

"That does not surprise me. I was never into politics even when I had the qualifications for it. It is a place where a man's career goes to die an infamous death."

She flinched at the word "death."

"Admiral…how old are you now?"

"All these years and you still don't remember, eh? This past January was my 74th."

"Then I suppose you have made peace with the fact that you will die sooner rather than later." She sighed as he nodded in confirmation. "Then so must I. Twenty years is long enough for an old tub like me."

"Not yet."

She froze at the sound of those two words, and then it dawned upon her.

"The Navy would be a fool to let the Heroine of Tsushima die such an inglorious death," he remarked, his smile growing at every word. "No, my dear battleship, the delegates fought harder than Takamori at Shiroyama, and the other powers listened. Under the provisions of the Washington Naval Treaty, you'll be preserved as a memorial ship. You've been saved."

Wordlessly, the battleship embraced him in an inescapable bear hug.

"Thank you, Admiral Tōgō."

"No, thank you, Mikasa. It was the least I could do."