Chapter 1-The Gulf of Thailand

Inside a gently anchored ship, at 0530 the alarm clock blared the opening bars to the Japanese Naval Anthem, and a groggy young man with half-lidded brown eyes and a messy black bedhead silenced the music. Ensign Mizushima Yuudai hopped out of his cramped berth and efficiently brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and got dressed in his khaki pants, matching short-sleeved shirt, black epaulets adorned with a gold stripe and cherry blossom star, and black leather shoes. He topped off his smart appearance with a navy ballcap with JMSDF block yellow letters, and wire rimmed rectangular glasses. The hallway on the converted fishing boat was less smart looking than the serious officer; the pale green walls were starting to rot at the base, and paint flakes were piling up on the maroon deck. He went up a short flight of stairs he entered the cluttered bridge filled with choking cigarette smoke.

A grey haired bald man in a stained undershirt, dirty Chiba Lotte Marine baseball cap, and black shorts looked over the radar and sonar scans as he used a cigarette stub to light another one. He took a puff and started to cough with a phlegmy rattle. He looked over to his naval attaché with a slight grimace as he sipped his tea, "'Morning Mizushima-kun."

Yuudai saluted snappily, "Captain Abe, at your service!" Despite his the skipper of the Pacifica Maru being generally gruff and tactless, he was happy to work with his father's retired naval buddy. He looked over at the storm clouds coming out from the southeast from Malaysia. "Hmm. Will that storm system impact my dive to the wreck today?"

The Captain shook his head, and smirked. "It'll be choppy on the surface but you should have a good chance on reaching your girlfriend today."

"Thanks Captain. I'll suit up once the diving crew are ready." He blushed a bit at the crack as Captain Abe Taro was obviously well aware of his notorious military otaku habits. He was enraptured with all things involving the Imperial Japanese Navy for as long as he could remember; with a borderline obsession regarding Admiral Nishimura's star-crossed final sortie in the battle for Leyte gulf. His grandfather had been rescued off the fatally damaged Shigure on January 24, 1945 in the closing months of WWII and had been inordinately fond of his 'lucky girl'. The legendary Shigure had been the only Japanese survivor from the disastrous night battle of Surigao strait in the autumn of 1944 in which six of her comrades went to the seafloor. He was rather obsessed about the plucky little destroyer and had spent his third year of high school hand crafting a 1:100 scale model that had been good enough to win a local modeling build. His widowed grandfather had displayed it proudly on a shelf above his bed until he had passed away in his sleep late last year. Yuudai was going to lay a wreath and commemorative plaque from the JMSDF brass honoring her crew on the shattered bow once he was at the dive site.

"Getting going, you little twerp!" Captain Abe puffed out a smoke ring and chuckled. He was a nice kid if a bit of a dweeb, he mused silently.

"Sir!" Yuudai sighed under his breath as he reached the stern in the balmy midwinter tropical air, and found two crewmen at the ready within his diving gear laid out. He bowed slightly to Abe's sons, and soon striped to his trunks.

The elder son Kentaro snickered as he helped the Navel Ensign into his synthetic black dive suit. "Give your honey a kiss when you reach her for me!"

He smiled good-naturedly, "I will Ken-kun. Oh, thanks for ratting out my hobby to your old man."

Kentaro laughed hysterically while his dour younger brother Daichi helped to attach the air tanks. "Hey, I ain't the Navy nerd that you are. Seriously, good luck down there."

Yuudai smiled and shook his rough mannered friend's hand. After having been family friends for years, he knew well that despite their rough-hewn ways he genuinely liked the slovenly Abe family, as they were all expert seamen. "See you two in 2 hours and 30 minutes exactly. He set the dive timer, donned his mask and stood at the cutout in the stern.

Daichi gave his tank a pat, "Be safe."

He gave a thumbs up and entered the blue sea with barely a ripple. He was truly in his element now.

An hour later he was swimming above the rotted stern deck and he carefully took pictures of the wrecked #2 torpedo launcher, with less than fifteen minutes of dive time left. The sleek destroyer was everything that he had dreamed of, despite its extreme decay. Above him the storm had started and he was working in a murky twilight. Suddenly a loud racket at the surface drew his attention up. He saw three other vessels silhouetted in the overcast sky.

He exhaled bubbles and his eyes widened as he heard distorted booms and suddenly the Pacifica Maru blew apart into three ruined sections! His eyes couldn't register what what happening until he saw the stern section spiral down directly on his position! He dove under the torpedo mount as the stern with its still spinning screw missed the Shigure's hull by half a dozen meters at most, kicking up a tremendous cloud of silt that engulfed the wreck. With his visibility at zero, he felt along the deck by hand, and quickly decided to swim furiously to the hatch leading into the bridge tower, as that was his best short at survival. He didn't have time to think what catastrophe had annihilated the dive ship or killed his friends, but he had to reach that door! He dimly saw behind him the bow section impact the Shigure's stern caving in the weakened fantail. Just as he reached the hatch, the massive steel trawling spool smashed down on his body, badly crushing his left arm, and trapping his foot!

He screamed in pain and tried to wiggle out from the cylinder, but the weight was unyielding. He quickly evaluated his options as the kicked up sediment started to gently waft down again. He scrounged around for a pipe to use as a crowbar, and found a rotted handrail that he tried to use as a lever. After a half hour of futility he fatalistically gave up and glanced up at the now empty churning waves above. He had the uncanny feeling that he wasn't alone as he managed a slight smile, as he unsheathed his dive knife. It was pointless to try to cut his way out as he would bleed out in minutes, so there was only one last alternative. He prayed silently, I'm sorry mom and dad, but I won't be coming home. Grandfather, I'll be with you soon. It least I'll be with your lucky girl. He affectionately gave the teak planking a feathery pat with his fingertips, angled the knife under the airhose, and cleanly severed it in one stroke. He quickly inhaled water and his vision soon blackened out just as he saw a glowing ball of white light descend from above.

…

A sudden lurch of the ship caused Yuudai's head to hit the bulkhead. The jolt startled him back into alertness. "Oh shit!" He staggered up and fell off the small bed. He flung off the itchy wool sheets and gaped around the unfamiliar room in white starched boxers. Something looked off about his left arm, but he was in too much of a rush to attend to it. The stateroom was very small, but there wood paneling adorning the walls indicating it was a senior officer if not the captain's stateroom. He glanced outside the porthole and could see the ship was slicing through the water at 30+ knots. Apparently he was on some sort of destroyer based on the hull's curvature, and speed. He donned the vintage rounded wire-rimmed glasses and found to his surprise that they perfectly corrected his myopia. He found the closet and found to his dismay that there was a pristine white uniform tunic, pants, and leather shoes. The rank epaulets were single stripes overlaid with two cherry blossoms. The cap was adorned with a leather visor and the IJN logo including an anchor, a cherry blossom, and decorative feathers. He hastily put on the museum-quality WWII reproduction uniform, and tugged on a pair of white gloves.

The PA system came to life and a voice spoke with urgency and emotion, "Admiral! You're up! Please come to the bridge immediately!"

Why the devil was that voice calling for an Admiral? She couldn't be referring to a lowly ensign like him! He shook his head in confusion and hesitated at what he should do.

A voice rang through his skull, Please tell me you're okay, sir!

Why the hell was he hearing voices? Was he going crazy? Keep your shit together, he berated himself. Who's there, he inquired in return.

Ah! I'm so sorry, sir! You didn't answer the page, so I thought you were in trouble. My humble apologies for using the telepathic link without your permission, Admiral!

It was definitely a soft-spoken, feminine voice. He was still stunned as he asked the mystery lady, Are you an esper, Miss?

It…it's a long story sir. Are you free to come up to the bridge?

Sure. See you soon. As he numbly walked down the deserted corridors he wondered if he was still dreaming, he was insane, or he was in some sort of strange purgatory. He intuitively knew the layout of this destroyer, so he turned the corner, went up a few dimly lit flight flights and came into the bridge. What he saw was the last thing her expected. Standing at the ship's wheel was a sixteen year old girl! She had a mop of dark brown hair that was plaited into a single braid and she was wearing a black sailor outfit with a white collar, cuffs and belt. Narrow crimson stripes and a red neck scarf adorned the outfit as accents and she was wearing black socks and loafers. He stopped short and simply gaped at bewildering sight. There was no one else visible on the cramped grey bridge. He removed his cap and cleared his throat.

Luminous blue eyes turned to meet his, and went wide with glistening tears at the corners. She could no longer contain her grief in front of her savior! She let go of the wheel and ran sobbing into his arms! "T-thank God! Admiral, you're alright! You could have died on my deck and I'd have another death on my head!" She wailed as Yuudai gaped as he saw the wheel subtly adjust itself against the winds and shifting currents. Did this antiquated destroyer have an autopilot? Questions atop of questions rattled inside his head but comforting the little girl came first.

"There, there miss. It's okay now. I won't let anything happen to you." He hugged her back and patted her head. For a solid five minutes the girl poured out what seemed like decades worth of bottled up emotions. After she finally stopped crying all over his uniform he gave her a handkerchief and smiled, "Blow in this. Do you feel better?"

She noisily blew her nose and nodded vigorously. "It's just that seeing you almost die brought back all my failures. I let them all die! It's not fair that only I survived the battle!"

The ensign saw the destroyer was headed northeast into the dark ocean, and noted with a start that fore of the towering bridge was a boxy twin 12.7 cm mount on the bow shaped exactly the same model he had crafted 3 years prior! The ship he was on was undoubtedly of the WWII vintage Shiratsuyu class. He pushed his shock to the side and focused in the immediate issue at hand. He spoke softly, "Who? Who did you lose?"

"F-Fusou-sempai, Yamashiro-sempai, Mogami-sempai, Michishio, Asagumo, and Yamagumo! They all died on my watch!"

Wha-? Why was she rattling off the six ships lost at the battle of Surigao strait like they were her classmates at school? He broke out into a sweat at the sheer absurdity of it all. "That battle was 70 plus years ago! Are those nicknames for your friends?"

She wiped at her eyes and tearfully shook her head. "Those were their real names. Even though I was sunk the following year, nothing will atone for my sins." She reluctantly pulled away from her kind superior, and saluted him with a serious expression, "My apologies, Admiral Mizushima! I was behaving most disgracefully for a proud destroyer! I am the Shigure of Sasebo, proud second born of the Shiratsuyu class, reporting for duty!"

Despite his head reeling from this ridiculous discussion, he composed himself. If this "Shigure" was pulling a prank, he would just have to play along for now. He grimaced inside as he realized she already knew his family name. He saluted in return, "Ensign Mizushima Yuudai, of the Japanese Maritime Self Defense Force. It's a pleasure Miss Shigure."

Just meeting the dedicated Ensign lifted her crushed spirits from seven decades of self flagellation for her inexcusable failures. She managed an earnest smile, "You don't believe me, do you sir?"

"Er, of course I do!"

She couldn't resist teasing her commanding officer. She tittered, "Give me an order then."

He quickly thought of something, "Right full rudder!"

"Aye sir!" The speeding ship lurched by itself as it sped in a clockwise circle. He had to hang onto a support column for dear life as the ship tilted in a starboard list. The ship completed the 360° arc and resumed a northeast heading. Her smile increased, "Anything else, Admiral?"

He leaned heavily against the bridge wall staring at this incredible girl with flat disbelief, "H-how…how the hell did you do that?"

She gently brushed her hand across the cool metal of the bridge wall, and felt a faint tickling sensation on her own skin. "I am a fleet girl. This is my combat form. I can summon and control this ship like a marionette, but it is of my flesh, and these two bodies share one mind. Those main cannons, torpedoes, and anti-aircraft cannons are my fists of fire. That steam engine amidships is my pumping heart and blood. This hull is my steel skin and bones."

He couldn't stop his making an ass of himself much to his horror, "What? You are the real Shigure wreck? The one my grandfather served on and called his 'lucky girl'? The same one I made a 1:100 scale model of? The one Captain Abe jokingly called my girlfriend?"

She gasped and turned beet red at his unexpected statements. Her heart almost exploded from shock! She panted and caught her breath. "Y-yeah. I am the same Shigure that you almost died on."

He blurted out the obvious, "What restored you to life? You were a ruined wreck just this morning!"

She was stunned he didn't remember. It took her a few moments to find her voice again as she looked at him with a pleading expression, "You did, sir."