A/N: She's like Mokou Fujiwara, everyone just ships her with everybody. Soon the poor girl will need to perform an omnidirectional lovemaking in a giant lesbian orgy, I swear.


In Zuikaku's eyes, the aircraft carrier Kaga has, and will always be the symbol of the Japanese military might.

Zuikaku herself maybe is better designed, tougher, and have more practical combat experience than the smaller, older ex-battleship, but the fact remains that the glory of the Japanese Empire ended when Kaga died.

Zuikaku was strong back then, just as she is now. But the six months predicted by Admiral Yamamoto were already over, and when Zuikaku was handled the rein over the first carrier division, she was not leading the glorious carrier strike force that had her people rejoicing on the street of Tokyo on December 1941. Instead, she was leading a death march.

Victory was a rare delicacy for Zuikaku, and under the seemingly unlimited resources of the enemy, she saw herself slowly became the symbol of the decline of the Japanese military. Failure after failure, defeat after defeat she endured first hand. She witnessed her friends fell one by one to the unstoppable force that only saw her people as savage yellow rats. Even as her hangar became empty, she fought on, flaunting herself over the enemy and accepting death, only to be failed by the ship that bore her country's name.

As the enemy reached the southern islands and bombers started flying over the Imperial Palace, and as the people starved and died as their homes were turned to ashes, the Japanese remembered Kaga. They remembered the time when their nation was strong and prideful, the time when they raised fire and swords over faraway lands and not cowering under the earth, praying to the gods that certainly had abandoned them just for the gift of seeing another sunrise, or for the sweet mercy of death. They remembered the time when their best and brightest charged enemy fortifications under the cover of the guardian angels in the sky, sent by their goddess of victory that resided on the sea, invincible.

Kaga was, and is, a remarkable beauty. A fierce warrior with the face of a maiden. Her body, even now that she has taken the form of a woman, is still definitely built for war, with defined muscles and flexible joints still perceivable under her soft exterior. The moles and scars visible across her skin, representative of her inherent design flaws as one of the first Japanese fleet carrier, do little to hinder her radiance. On the contrary, the strategically located flaws on her otherwise flawless physique only work to enhance her allure.

Kaga is a goddess, a warrior, and a maiden all the same...

...and Zuikaku is controlling her by the cunt.

"Ah..."

Kaga's soft moans enter Zuikaku's ears like calm waves. Slow, relaxing, yet in time, destructive. Zuikaku struggles to keep her composure, yet still she finds her fingers moving faster and faster inside her partner.

Kaga tries to shift her body, seeking to gain some control over the situation, yet there's little she can actually do. The bare skin of her toned back is pressed by gravity against Zuikaku's still fully clothed chest, while her limbs lay helplessly on the now drenched futon. One of her hands is held firmly by Zuikaku and her legs, still wrapped in black knee socks, are limp and useless, getting weaker and weaker as Zuikaku works her naked crotch into submission. Her one free hand is clinging to Zuikaku's wrist, half-heartedly trying to force the younger carrier's hand to slow down.

"S...stop it, dammit!" Kaga demands, but her command has no power behind it, and each syllable is always interjected by a soft gasp.

Zuikaku ignores Kaga's weak plead. Instead, she chooses to focus on the effect her fingers have on the ship that has become the pride of the Japanese Navy. She watches with lust and hunger as Kaga melts under her touch, as her façades of a strong warrior and a war goddess slowly fall apart, leaving only the maiden loudly panting on top of her.

Zuikaku moves her head closer to Kaga's, taking one of her ears inside her mouth. Kaga's moans suddenly get slightly louder, motivating Zuikaku to move her fingers even faster.

...and faster.

...and faster.

Zuikaku feels Kaga quivering before she suddenly jolts out in a surge of power brought by her climax. One of Kaga's hands lashes out in the air, only to be forced back down by Zuikaku a moment later. Her other hand is biting its nails into Zuikaku's wrist while her previously limp legs suddenly tighten their muscles, all in a desperate attempt to try to separate Zuikaku's rampaging hand from her body's most sensitive part.

As Kaga's moans are getting louder and starting to risk waking up the other ships in the dormitory, Zuikaku decides that Kaga needs to be silenced. She moves her mouth from Kaga's ear to Kaga's own mouth, and starts to push. Kaga tries to tighten her jaws, but with Zuikaku's hand still working her, she's powerless to stop herself from moaning. Kaga's teeth parts and Zuikaku's tongue invades, drawing Kaga into a deep French kiss, the first kiss Kaga has ever since she had taken a human body.

Zuikaku keeps her tongue and fingers moving for a whole minute, all the while Kaga continues to struggle, only to feel her strength sapped by pleasure as Zuikaku intensifies her assault every time she feels the tiniest bit of resistance from the ex-battleship.

Suddenly, Kaga's body goes into convulsion, and Zuikaku knows she has done a good job. She soon finds Kaga lying helpless on top of her, panting and sweating with her tongue out and drooling. Her eyes look emptily towards the ceiling, her mind broken.

Zuikaku's hand is drenched by the liquid leaking from Kaga's now quivering sex. She shakes and wipes it off it on the already stained futon, before moving her hand onto Kaga's bountiful chest.

Consciousness returns to Kaga's eyes as she realizes what Zuikaku is going to do.

"No..." says Kaga weakly, barely audible. "Let me rest..."

Listening to how meekly her senior has become, Zuikaku breaks into a sadistic grin. She moves her mouth next to Kaga's reddened ear, and whispers.

"I'm not going to let you close your legs tonight."