A/N: These snippets are random ideas/inspiration I get while working on my main project, Z is for Zulu (check it out sometime!) that I wanted to flesh out while my brain is on cooldown. I've seen stories retelling ship girls' memories on WWII, but not on any earlier or later conflicts (likely because in-canon only WWII ships have returned as either abyssals or ship girls). As this is not my pet project, at present it will be updated intermittently, either whenever I want to write something short and to the point or when I'm stumped on improving my other story(ies).

This compilation will be all over the place: some in the Age of Sail, some during the age of ironclads and pre-dreadnoughts, and some during the World Wars and a little afterwards.

They all take place under the premise that ship girls have always existed in some form as an avatar/manifestation of the hulls themselves who may or may not be noticed by their crews.


A Choice with No Regrets


Some nights, when the skies are dark and the moonlight is the only comforting celestial object in the sky such as this night, she liked to gaze into the heavens. There was something encouraging about watching the moon rise and fall, heralding the birth of the sun the following morning. It was rhythmic; it was expectable.

Most importantly of all, it had a purpose and could be relied upon. Rain or shine, the earth could trust the moon to do its utmost duty every day, every month, and every year.

Such rigid adherence to duty was a far cry from her own morality…


"Mon ami, she will be the most powerful ship to set sail. Ze Union Navy will not stand a chance against her!"

"Excellent. President Davis needs supplies an' somethin' to hammer thraw this damn'd blockade. The South is i' your debt, friends."

"The French Empire remembers the Revolution, no? We are more than happy to help those fighting against unjust repression."

"As can be expected…"


"…what did you say?"

"You heard right. The ambassador of the United States issued the Emperor an explicit warning: you deliver that ironclad, you face the consequence of violating your oath of neutrality."

"They can't do that! We've invested so much into this ship, and now they want to give the gag?! We're a private company of shipwrights; Napoleon has no right to interfere with our business."

"And as a private company I have no interest in having our assets seized for lighting the powder keg. We'll simply find another buyer. Maybe the Prussians will be interested, or perhaps the Danes. With an armament like that, it'd be impossible not to want her."

"You just gave me a dastardly idea…"


"You are here to see this ironclad, oui?"

"Yes. The Prussians want Schleswig-Holstein at any costs. Perhaps she can be the 'final argument of kings' in the matter."

"You will not find any lovers of the monarchy here, mon ami."

"Ah. Well then…"

"We were wondering if you would be willing to…'give up' this battleship actually."

"…give her up? After the Danish crown invests so much money into purchasing her?"

"We can make a deal…"


Should have spoken then and there? There was something clearly underhanded about that exchange even at that stage…


"So this is the Stærkodder?"

"Aye. The shipwrights made a bargain with us. Officially she's in our hands now, but who's to stop a bunch of unruly mutinous sailors 'seizing her' and setting sail for the Caribbean now?"

"You're goddam geniuses, you Danes are."


Should she have resisted? A bunch of shady, grey-uniformed men would be no match for her guns…

"But why," a voice inside her head whispered in protest, "why resist? These people were the ones who originally wanted her, and the French were kind enough to go through hell and high water to see her join them?"


"Well well well," snickered a blue-uniformed soldier as they steamed into Havana. "What do we have here? Is this the CSS Stonewall I'm seeing?"

"Shut yer damn mouth, Yankee," a sailor growled. "The days of Scott's Great Snake are numbered."

"Of course they are," the soldier shrugged. "Because you've lost."

"Don't lie to me ya sunnovabitch!" The man raised his fist, preparing to give out a battlecry.

"Check the news around you," the soldier waved a wide hand towards the various streets and parapets of Cuba. "Read the newspaper if you can. Lee surrendered to Grant a few weeks ago. The Union won the war."

Her eyes widened in horror. If she was not needed, then what would become of her?


"That's right…I remember now…"


"It's a fair deal," a man shrugged. "The Tycoon needs ships to deal with…the rebellion in the west."

"Quite right," an elegantly-dressed man nodded vigorously as he uttered broken English. "The Shogun will pay well for her!"

"Give us a couple of thousand dollars and she's all yours! We'll even through in some of these newfangled Gatling guns in to sweeten the deal!"

"Always a pleasure working with you," the man beamed.


"I don't have a spine."


"Who are you?!" she yelped nervously as a bunch of armed men swarmed her decks, led by a woman adorning an encircled white cross.

"You're the new ironclad the Shogunate is expecting, yes?" She demanded…no, stated in crystal-clear English.

"Who is asking?"

"I am Kasuga and this," she pointed at a smaller but equally as fierce warrior beside her, "is Mōshun. Last year, our commanders began a movement to free this country from the tyranny of the Tokugawa clan and its cronies in the name of the Emperor. We are here to protect you from the machinations of this tyrannical faction."

WRONGWRONGWRONGLIESLIESLIES

There was no way she could be telling the truth. The Shogunate was the hegemon of Japan, not…this ragtag band of thieves and miscreants. They were rebels plotting to overthrow the government. Nothing more, nothing less.

"You…you…"

"Yes?" Kasuga sighed boredly.

"…you are…right…"


"I always go with the flow. I am a soldier with no master, a rōnin. No, even such a lowly sellsword is more respectable than me. They have courage. They have the willpower to fight on. Meanwhile I…"

"I…am…nothing."

She whimpered and tried to disappear within herself, but failed horribly. Cowards died a thousand deaths; spineless cowards never died, for the act of living was an eternal hell.

After some time wallowing in despair and self-pity, the dejected ironclad found solace at last as her tear-filled eyes closed and initiated her ritual escape to the land of dreams.


It was a wonderful night to be alive. The full moon lit up the confines of Miyako Bay for all the world to see, including their target. If all went as planned, it would be major victory for the Ezo Republic.

"Sh…" She hushed the restless Shinsengumi gathered on her deck. Even the faintest clatter of swords and spears could alert the enemy to their presence. Surprise was on their side; it would be critical to make the most of it.

As they neared the moorings of the enemy fleet, Kaiten hesitated slightly. The flickering of campfires and the distant orange-red glow of fireboxes opening and closing to the beat of the shovel shone ominously like warning signals.

But it was too late to back down.

The paddle frigate sharpened her sword and tightened her hachimaki, beckoning her crew to lay low as they approached the unsuspecting fleet.

Tonight she would avenge the endless streak of losses the Bakufu had suffered at the hands of these so-called supporters of the Emperor.

Tonight, Miyako Bay would bleed red.


"Just once in my life, I want to be useful." Those were the words that were at the tip of her tongue when sleep overtook her.

But Fate had a different plan in mind when it laid her mind to rest, for the first thing the warship saw was a girl. A very short, skinny girl with two bangs lining either side of her face and staring at her with excited brown eyes. The brown-haired child waved and offered an open hand.

"Who are you?" She whispered to the brunette. The girl merely tilted her head confusedly in reply. Words came out, but she did not hear them.

"What are you saying?"

The girl pointed at herself shyly, then back at her, and then finally beckoned for her to follow.

"You don't want-"the ironclad protested, but before she could finish the girl whisked her away at neck-breaking speeds. One moment they had been in nothingness, and the next they were on the high seas in the middle of battle. Claps of thunder announcing the impending rain of shells echoed all around them.

One such shell came soaring towards her guide with a shrill cry.

"LOOK OUT!"

Where the girl had been standing moments before was nothing but a massive plume of smoke, but when the haze cleared there was neither a corpse nor a bloodied mass greeting her.

Instead, a young maiden with golden curls and with a rather pronounced Frenchwoman's figure appeared, taking careful aim at a distant target, no, an entire fleet of targets, flying a yellow banner sporting a blue dragon. Several more shells splashed near the woman's vicinity, but that did not deter the warrior from her goal. Popping her neck, she fired another volley and smiled triumphantly as one of her enemies slipped beneath the ways.

Was this an omen, a warning of what would happen to her if she continued being a spiritless idiot?

She was just about to ask who the victor was when her vision blurred and everything grew black. When the ironclad was able to see again, she cried out in terror as a triple column of steel-and-iron juggernauts appeared unexpectedly, their guns all trained on her. Before she could blink an eye or utter a prayer for deliverance, they all fired in unison.

However, the projectiles never made contact with her hull, or any extremity of her body for that matter. What had once been an unstoppable formation of steel-and-iron fortresses was now an incoherent mass of smoldering wrecks and burning ruins. In the center of it all was a serene ravenette, with hair that seemed to flow past her shoulders and meld with her masculine combination of a bluish-black officer's jacket with matching pants.

"Thank you for saving me."

Perhaps she was imagining it, but she was quite certain that for a brief second the grave woman had flicked her a small smile.

"I wish I was like you."

The woman's grey eyes widened and her smirk widened into a toothy grin.

Yet the warship was denied once more the honor of shaking hands, for the world around her shimmered and twinkled until she was in the middle of a bloody chaos once more. There were aerial war machines, dozens, no hundreds of them approaching a hopelessly outnumbered group of girls and women, all of whom had grim expressions on their faces. One of them, a red-haired giantess, desperately attempted to turn her turrets skyward in a final act of defiance, but it was over before it began. The war machines dropped something, several somethings about her, and she gave a shudder and began slipping under the waves.

"No…" This was all her fault. The carnage…the chaos…it was all coming into place. She was seeing a future where she had failed her country. Japan would be nothing more than a mere footnote in history, as had been the case with many of her former employers.

The giantess made eye contact with the ironclad, causing the latter to hastily try and avert her gaze anywhere and everywhere than at the destruction she had caused.

But then the woman did something unexpected. Her expression hardened as her eyes darkened and eyebrows furrowed; moments later she let out a cry in defiance and began firing off every single last gun and shell that she could.

It was not enough, for eventually the ratatatats of her machineguns faded into nothingness and her guns fell silent. Two sharp flashes of light briefly lit-up the sky in a terrifying crackle of energy, as if the heavens were casting judgement on the people below. Then there was a deafening silence as the indomitable woman slumped over and fell into the ocean at last.

No…

Frantically she steamed over and began frantically panning the waters where the stately woman had sunk.

No. No…


Closer…

The still, cold form of the stolen ironclad loomed ominously in the distance, her decks empty and engines silent.

A few minutes more and Kaiten would be able to deliver her prize crew over the gunwales. French panache and Japanese bravado would prevail over these foolish "Meiji restorationists."


"Captain," a sailor whispered hoarsely, "we've spotted a shadowy silhouette slowly making way for Kōtetsu."

"Where, show me?" The officer raised a glass in the general vicinity of where the seaman had pointed.

"That is indeed not one on of ours."

"Shall I order the crew to load the cannons, captain?"

"No, Tōgō, we will wait and see what she does."

Katsuga debated pre-emptively loading her guns and aiming them at the shadowy figure slowly steaming up the bay, but decided against it.

"Tonight she must make up her mind. Kōtetsu…are you with us or against us?"


A warm hand politely tapped on her right shoulder. The ironclad quivered slightly at the touch. Should she face the inevitable, and accept her sentence in full?

Slowly but surely the warship turned her head behind her to face the unknown.

And nearly dropped her jaw at the sight of her.

There before her eyes was Edo, no, Tokyo Bay, but it was not the inlet that she had known. Cherry blossom leaves danced all around her, trumpeting the approaching blur of a speeding train. Where wooden docks and quays once lined Tokyo's harbor were now immaculate and intricately designed buildings of steel and concrete. Leaning against one such building were three women: a golden-haired girl, who winked at her somewhat flirtatiously as she brought a massive cannon to bear from behind her, a placid black-haired woman who gazed on with a mixture of curiosity and reverence, and finally…

"No way…impossible…my vision must be failing me…"

But fail her vision did not, for a tall, familiar red-haired giant casually twirled her umbrella and beamed at her in greeting.

"You're alive."

The giant nodded happily as the other two gave hearty waves and saluted.

"You salute me, but why?"

The three women began mouthing something, repeating the word over and over again as if they were merely record players.

Arigato.

Somehow, she knew the meaning of that phrase in spite of her feeble command of the Japanese tongue.

Yet their response gnawed at her deeply. What were they thanking her for? There had to be a reason for this very long and strange vision.

Suddenly the ironclad began to feel something brush against her side and began crawling all over her.

Sailors. Something's boarding me. Any moment now they would appear over the railings and swarm her decks.

There were muffled murmurs and shouts like bells tolling in the distance. "Shinsengumi, Shinsengumi. Ezo, Ezo."

"What are you trying to tell me?" She pleaded with the trio, who unhelpfully continued their silent chant.

Did she need strength? No, the ironclad knew that she was a force to be reckoned with on the oceans. Peace? As if chatting with three bizarre women would resolve her problems…

Come to think of it, why were they thanking her? How did they know her? They were all very different looking people with very different skills.

Oh come on brain, thinkthinkthink. What did the three women have in common?

Nothing really, except the fact that each of them had ornaments adorning each of their necks, a petalled flower in particular.

No, this was not just any simple flower. It was not the repeating motif of the Shogunate's Triple Hollyhocks; no, it was something far more familiar.

It was a Chrysanthemum.

It was a Chrysanthemum.

They were not random strangers but warriors of the Emperor.

But why thank her if she couldn't…


If she couldn't realize that future.

Her eyes flashed wide open just in time to see a brilliant-colored rōnin raise his sword high in the air.

"ATTACK! FOR EZO! DOWN WITH THE EMPEROR AND HIS DOGS!"

The masterless samurai gave a shrill warcry and leapt over Kaiten's broadside, slicing an unsuspecting sailor to shreds. No sooner had the corpse turned cold then a swarm of similarly-dressed men yelled and began rushing her cannons.

Like hell would she let that happen.

Before any of the would-be boarders could react, her Gatling Gun roared to life, cutting down the massed men like a farmer harvesting his crops. Some survivors tried to stand and continue their charge, but quickly fell to the ground for the final time.

"Sphynx. Stærkodder. Stonewall. Kōtetsu. I may have many names and served in many navies, but there is only one person I call my liege. And that person is not the Shogun, or any of his former lackeys."


A massacre. That was only the best way to describe the carnage unfolding before her.

No, she could think of a better description as Kaiten watched her would-be ally gleefully mow down her men.

A massacre by a cold, heartless turncoat.

Swearing one final vow, the paddle steamer dove straight at Kōtetsu.

"hyaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—"


"-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!"

She barely had any time to register the incoming warrior when the two of them crashed to the floor in an inescapable chokehold.

"You traitorous bastard," the aggressor snarled. "Why did you this? Why betray the people who wanted you, purchased you, and even tried to rescue you?"

"Because I have seen Japan's future, and it lies not in either the Shogunate or the Republic of Ezo."

"Future? What future? One that your feeble, sorry excuse of a brain conjured? There is no future. You decide the future. And the future I see in your life is me carrying your head before the entire fleet!"

"Then that is a future I am willing to die for," there was an inexplicable sense of relief that flowed through her at those words. Was this was it like, doing one's duty to king and country? If it was, she could never, ever get used to the intoxicating euphoria and adrenaline-driven rush of faithfully doing her duty.

"Prepare to die!"

The ironclad dodged the venomous swipe and furious sword hacks, parrying with the flat of her arms if she had to. Like dancers, the two spirits spun up and down the ironclad, epitomizing the merciless brawl unfolding between the other ex-Shogunate and pro-Imperial personnel fighting.

Kaiten grinned as she saw an opening in the ironclad's defenses, and brought her sword straight down on Kōtetsu's completely unprotected skull.

Snap.

With unforeseen speed the ironclad caught the blade before snapping it in two.

"Very well, Kōtetsu, then I shall kill you with my bare hands!"

As the paddle frigate became physically intertwined with the ironclad's ram, the two women locked into an inescapable chokehold. Kaiten refused to yield until Kōtetsu submitted to her martial prowess, and the ironclad was as strong as her ideological convictions.

Boom. Boom. Boom. A massive stream of geysers appeared all about the two warships as shells splashed all around them.

"Shit! The Imperial Navy!"

"Where's the Banryū? The Yūgekitai? The Takao?"

"We've been abandoned!"

"Retreat!"

Outnumbered, outgunned, and possibly soon outmaneuvered, the surviving crew of Kaiten began beating a hasty withdrawal.


"I must say that I am pleasantly surprised, Kōtetsu."

"Surprised?"

"The Gatling Guns. I know that was you," Kasuga cast her a hard glance. "No human being can prepare and fire a gun at the very instant a surprise attack starts. At best, I suspected that you would do nothing, refusing to commit to either side during the battle. At worst, your mixed loyalties would reveal themselves and you would try and fight us. Not that seven warships couldn't take you out, mind you."

"…"

"It's a compliment. I am glad that my deepest suspicions were proven wrong. Perhaps it is the British cynic within me speaking, but I doubted that French-built warships could do anything more than surrender."

"…"

"That was my attempt at a very bad joke, Kōtetsu. Please laugh at it. You're one of us now."

"Kasuga…have you ever had dreams of the future?"

"You mean the kind where I'm standing on Kaiten's grave and the Emperor's powers are restored to him?"

"No…this is different…it's like people were calling out to me…showing me the future…"

"Don't be silly, Kōtetsu, there is no predestined future," the Satsuma warship raised a worried eyebrow. "I'm starting to wonder if the Caribbean sun did get to you, after all…"


"Azuma."

"Azuma!"

"Huh?"

"Sorry," the golden-haired girl reddened apologetically. "I was calling you a name that you haven't been given yet."

"Yet?"

"After the Emperor's supremacy was asserted, the Japanese gave you a name. A real name," she sighed dreamily, "though all of us call you the 'Iron Lady.'"

"Wait…you speak French..are the Gauls in your blood too?"

"She is my native birth country, oui." Both of them giggled at that statement.

"So what is your name?"

"It's Mat—"


"I can't believe it," the corvette spoke softly. "I can't believe it."

"Are you sure you heard correctly?" Azuma inquired, giving her young friend a slightly amused look.

"Yes!" Kaimon snapped, before covering her mouth apologetically. "The workers heard from an officer who has a friend in the Navy's Headquarters that they're planning on scrapping you. Apparently they want more advanced warships in preparation for future conflicts in East Asia."

"Oh? I didn't realize that Yokosuka's Naval Arsenal had advanced so much."

"It hasn't," Kaimon reddened. "It's still a filthy, slow-moving and slow-building manufactory like it was a few years ago when I was completed. The new ships have been ordered elsewhere. France, apparently, since the Diet thinks that their naval doctrine is most compatible with ours. What's with that weird look on your face?" She added suspiciously as her friend smirked into her green tea.

"Oh, nothing," the ironclad smiled. "Do you happen to know what their names will be?"

"Of course, it's the three views of Japan. Itsukushima, Hashidate, and Matsushima." At this Azuma broke out into unrestrained laughter.

"Kōtetsu, what's so funny. Don't leave me in the dark. Kōtetsu? Kōtetsu?!"


A/N (continued): I decided to start off this series with one of the IJN's earliest warships, Kōtetsu. She's quite an interesting vessel, having been built in France intended for the CSA, then sold to Denmark, then given to the CSA, then interned at Cuba, then given to the United States, then sold to the Shogunate in preparation for its impending civil war, and finally seized by the pro-Imperial Japanese forces for its budding navy. Naturally, cycling through so many navies can lead to an identity crisis. While she may not be as legendary as say Matsushima, Mikasa, or Yamato (who are the three girls Kōtetsu sees in her dream, respectively), Kōtetsu gained a reputation for being an incredible formidable opponent in her service career.

Also, fun fact: Tōgō of Tsushima Strait fame actually served as a Third Officer on Kasuga and was present at the Battle of Miyako Bay where Kōtetsu fought Kaiten and her ex-Shogunate sympathizers.

Another fun fact: Kasuga was a British-built warship. Tōgō appears to have an extremely coincidental tendency of being or making historical moments with Anglo-Japanese vessels.