Arizona hated this day. She always hated it. Sleep, a hard commodity for her to use even at the best of times, was impossible for three whole days if you counted the day before and the day after. This time was no different. Currently having been up for nearly 48 hours now, Arizona was kneeling next to a stone slab that served as a memorial for those fallen in WW2. At Richardson's request, the list was expanded to include her fallen crew. Nearby, New Jersey and her sisters were practicing their gunnery. Every once in a while, the old standard could hear their guns go off at the range, followed by some very creative cursing. Apparently New Jersey wasn't the only one who swore like a sailor. Hardly any ship had come near her since yesterday although that may have been because Pennsylvania had taken to shooing away anyone who tried and by anyone, I mean Japanese.
Arizona rested a hand over her cheek, the other placed protectively over her precious donuts. She had selected them carefully, examining each one for any imperfections. Such beautiful works of art needed to be just right and these ones would serve well as her offering.
Eighty years, for her it felt like much less than that. Only a handful had passed since her summoning, the rest were spent in that icy dungeon where time held no meaning. Sometimes she wondered why she was still like this. It wasn't as though her friends hadn't suffered too. So many of them had it much worse. Mutsu, destroyed by her own crew. Nagato, annihilated by the power of the atom. Kaga, Akagi, witnesses to their own nation's atrocities before Arizona's fleetmates showed them mercy. "She fucking killed you 'Zona." New Jersey's astonished whisper was like so many others. Her fleet could never understand why she pitied her former enemy. And, if she were being honest, she didn't want them to. Although a part of her wished she couldn't as well. She pushed it aside. She had witnessed what that path led to and she had no desire to go through it again. For her crew's sake if nothing else.
So absorbed in her own thoughts was she, that she failed to notice footsteps behind her. Until a hand rested on her shoulder. Startled, Arizona looked up. Dark skin, black dreadlocks and a build that would rival even the most well toned bodybuilder meant it could only be Missouri.
"Finished playing with your sisters?" Arizona asked.
"I called it early. Wanted to see how you were doing." Missouri replied.
"I'm fine. You can go and do whatever it was you were playing at." Arizona said.
"Hmm." Missouri didn't move away. In fact her grip tightened momentarily on Arizona's shoulder as she lowered herself down next to the standard. "You know, if you want to talk..."
"I don't." Arizona didn't mean to come off snappish, especially not to Missouri. The Iowa-class was her guardian. Somehow, through MSSB, Arizona had sensed it when she was summoned. A feeling of peace, as though a missing part of her was restored. That feeling had only intensified once Missouri arrived in Japan. She hardly let Arizona out of her sight, or at least beyond her radar range. Normally the standard would've found this annoying but she didn't mind it so much with Missouri.
"Yes it is kind of hard to talk when you don't know what to think." Missouri said softly, not at all offended.
Curious, Arizona turned to her. The battleship continued. "You know when I went down I took my whole crew with me. Not a single one made it out. Not like Whisky." Arizona winced. She at least had survivors, a handful of whom were still alive today. And yes Whisky had gone down like any battleship should, swinging like a badass and making it very clear to anyone listening that her crew were off limits.
"New Jersey says I was a hero, going down like I did but... well my point is, I get it Ari. I don't really know what to think either."
Arizona sighed and for the first time that day, she looked up at her guardian and smiled. "Thanks Mo."
"Anytime."