When the wind blows itself into a frenzy, when the clouds turn from white to grey, does she notice it?
"Kaga! Are you able to finish your rice?" I heard an excited voice calling out towards me.
I looked up in response, and saw the endless horizon of sea and clouds expand before me, the docks that were my home insignificant in comparison.
I had expected a flash of black hair, red ribbons and white sleeves that concealed those skilled, beautiful arms made for archery. But in all honesty, were there even red ribbons in the first place? Were those arms still fit for archery practice? Did her sleeves still contain the glossy innocence of white and cleanliness?
Time had changed me, but even my memories were not spared.
How is it that one can remember an event as if it were yesterday, but struggle at the details?
The emotions felt at that point of time was clear as day, but one tends to forget the relevance of the emotions to such events, like how the lingering feeling of a good breakfast stays with you for hours, or for ship girls like us, the morale or melancholy we may gain after a day's work fending off the Deep Sea fleets.
But on what was present: That morning's dishes, the enemies faced, can be expressed in no more than a stutter, the details of those events warped towards the demanding expectations of daily life.
"Kaga, is lunch ready yet?" her voice rang, words that were so habitual around this time in the afternoon, I used to turn around sometimes to see no one present.
I turned to look behind, to see ship girls assembling for lunch, the docks buzzing with activity.
Beneath me, the waves of brine shuddered and chased the direction of the breeze.
Do they perhaps, remember exactly how they follow it on a daily basis? Their endless pursuit of going back and forth, their loyalty fixated on it, going wherever it goes. If the wind were to disappear suddenly one fine day, will the waves finally become still? Will they reminiscence on their past, their companionship?
"Kaga! You need to eat more, or you will not be able fight the Deep Sea Fleet!" you whispered fiercely, with a subtle touch of concern.
Hearing your words, how I wished that you did not know how many meals I had taken these past few years, how many enemies I had fought, how many hours I had spent staring at the horizon.
Of course, you did not know.
Perhaps, that is where all my sadness lies.
While the sun was still high up in the sky, I heard the Lady Mamiya, the soft ringing of mess tins and trays audible even to the edge of the docks, and more habitual noises. As I stood up to leave, unable to swallow back my hunger, I noticed the horizon.
It changed, with a massive shadow looming towards the docks, towards me.