Chapter Three
For the first time in many days, I slept quite well, even if it was just a short nap. When I awoke it was at the start of evening, which greeted me with a vibrant horizon of red and orange pastels, mirrored in turn by an ocean that was as calm as I felt. I knew I should return to the castle sooner or later, but I was in such a blissful state that I didn't want to move my head from its soft, warm rest.
That was until I remembered that I had been outdoors and there was nothing soft or warm on the shoreline. I quickly discovered that the pillow that I had moments ago felt so attached to was, in fact, Kawakaze's lap.
"You're finally awake," she remarked upon noticing. "Did you sleep well?"
Smacked by a rush of heat to my face, I shot back upright. "I-I am terribly sorry, I did not mean to—" I stopped myself, though, when I recalled what she had said earlier about me and honesty. Once I did, it calmed me down in an instant. "I did. Thank you. We should return home before Akagi sends out search parties for me."
"And how are you feeling? Do you think you'll be okay?"
Despite wanting to keep true to her advice about being open and honest, I still had to fight down the urge to insist that everything was fine. "I do not know," I answered truthfully. "The training exercise reminded me of just how terrifying the power of an aircraft carrier is. I do not have Mikasa's charisma, nor Akagi's cunning. If neither my body nor my mind are of any use to the Empire, I worry I may soon become a relic of a bygone era."
We got up to leave, but I didn't take more than a few steps before I noticed an absence of a second set of footsteps. When I looked back, I discovered that Kawakaze was still at the shoreline, and the reason why became readily apparent. Off in the distance, a thick wall of fog was rolling into the harbour, far denser and quicker than nature could ever muster on its own. It was a disturbing sight that we were all familiar with.
"Sirens? Now of all times?" I remarked in disbelief. "It's been ages since they've made an attempt on the capital. Why?"
"I'll be sure to ask them when I see them," Kawakaze said, summoning her rigging at the same time. "Let's go."
Caught off-guard by her rather aggressive suggestion that sounded almost like an order, I gave her a puzzled look and remarked, "Excuse me?"
"Normally, this is the point where I'd suggest we fall back and regroup with the rest of the fleet before mounting a counter-attack, but you'd just state that you'll not waste precious time while people are in danger, and then charge out to meet the Sirens head-on. I'd tell you it's too risky, and then you would go and do it anyways. I figured I would save us a step."
If she knew me any better, she'd be finishing my sentences for me.
"Then let us not tarry." Once I had donned my rigging, we took to the water and plotted a direct course for the oncoming wall of fog. Behind us, we could hear the city alarms begin to siren. Reinforcements would arrive soon, but until then, there were still civilian transports and fishing boats in the harbour. "Kawakaze, take point! We need to draw any fire away from the civilians. And remember, the fog will interfere with our radios and instruments. Stay in visual range at all times."
We plunged headlong into the violent, alien miasma of the mirror sea fog, the familiar sights of our homeland slowly replaced with a dense, unrelenting haze that seemed to swallow up everything it touched.
"Radios are down, as expected," Kawakaze reported.
"Keep trying to raise the main base anyways."
After a few minutes of sailing with no signs of any contact, we decided to halt our advance for a moment. It was strange to have the mirror sea fog but not see any sign of the enemy. Normally, the fog preceded a Siren attack almost immediately, if not serve as the vessel that dropped their numbers right at our doorstep. Instead, though, it was deathly quiet with only the churning of our engines breaking up the silence.
"Do you think that we overshot them?" Kawakaze postulated. Her eyes were in a constant state of scanning our surroundings, and while her theory was possible, it seemed unlikely that anything could've slipped past her vigilance.
"Perhaps their aim is not an attack this time." I could've spent a lifetime trying to figure out the Sirens and still not gotten any closer, which was arguably one of the most frustrating parts of trying to fight against them. How could you strategize against a foe when you weren't even aware of their goals? Even when trying to take the initiative, as Kawakaze and I were doing now, it wound up being a dismal failure. We were stuck, as we often were, in a reactionary state. Until the Sirens actually did something, we couldn't even fight back. "Kawakaze, we should reverse our course and see if we can link up with—"
I had been searching for any signs of enemy activity all the while, which I thought would be safe as my bodyguard kept close by. Alas, that wound up proving to be a serious tactical error, for when I looked back to my comrade-in-arms, there was no sign of her. Nothing but mist and water.
"Kawakaze? Kawakaze!"
No answer, which wasn't surprising but was still disheartening all the same. It was far too easy to get lost in the Siren's fog, and the fact that it happened so suddenly and easily made me suspicious that this had been part of their scheme all along. The joke would be on them, however, since Lady Yamato would be able to assume my duties almost immediately were anything to happen to me.
"Maybe I should reverse course and find my reinforcements," I said with great reluctance.
"Oh dear, is the poor little girl lost?" a voice suddenly spoke up behind me.
"Who dares call me little?" I snapped back as I swung around, all guns ready.
What greeted me, though, was enough to even give me a moment of pause. I found myself standing before a Siren, the strange, pale girl perched upon a throne of obsidian, alien steel, and a mass of writhing, glowing tendrils, all of which were tipped in an array of barbs, claws, and cannons. An almost eldritch horror, born not of this world, and fueled only by cruelty and malice. With every weapon trained upon me, the leviathan of a machine loomed like a divine storm, with its god watching me with a look that I could only describe as contemptful curiosity. Like a person staring at an insect just before they decide to squash it. I had never been so close to a Siren before—it was like staring into the void itself, swallowing all hope and courage with it.
And yet, I was not afraid. The fear was there, screaming at me in the back of my mind to get away from this thing with all speed, but I knew I had to hold my ground.
"Nagato, Fourth Flagship of the Combined Fleet, I presume?" the Siren spoke.
"I am. And who are you to so brazenly intrude upon the waters of the Sakura Empire?"
"Me? Oh, you can just think of me as… an observer," she said with a chuckle that sent chills through me.
Based on her answer, her appearance, and what information we had on the Sirens, I concluded that I must be dealing with the one referred to as 'Observer.' I had my suspicions beforehand, but now I had my fears confirmed. We still knew little about her with most of our information coming from Akagi's reports in the aftermath of the Orochi debacle some time ago. With any luck, feigning a degree of ignorance could help me, as I was never going to win if I started firing my cannons: I'd be annihilated before I even got the chance to reload.
"So what does the Observer desire from me? I presume that my sudden isolation was not just a coincidence."
"If you had anything that I desired, I would've already pried it from your remains," the Siren scoffed back. "No, the better question is what do you desire from me?"
"I fail to understand your question."
"You stand on the precipice of your own significance, Nagato. Years of service and devotion to an Empire that is about to throw you aside at the delusion of something grander, and with what to show for it? You have brought no lasting peace to your people, no prosperity. Your entire Empire only continues to exist because powers far greater than your own have taken pity upon you."
"If you are attempting to goad me into a reaction, it shall not work," I shot back, firm and resolute. "Though my end as the flagship is coming and not in the way that I had dreamed of, I do not fear the future or for my people. I will continue to serve them with every fibre of my being."
"And do you really think that'll be enough? Your Empire doesn't even recognize your strength anymore. The Eagle Union… the Royal Navy… how long do you think it'll be before your dreams of peace wither and wilt beneath their burning ambitions. Your Empire was already shackled once by a world that feared you, all in the name of 'peace.' Now that a new battleship is about to ascend to your throne, do you think the world will tolerate that presence? Imagine what they will demand of your people next time in exchange for more peace." Her voice began to lower, her machine throne tilting forward as though she were trying to lean in close. "You've seen it in your dreams, Nagato; the sun sets upon your Empire. It's coming, and deep down you know that you are the only one that can stop that from happening."
"H-how do you know about my dreams?" She may have been bluffing, but her words were spoken with such confidence and certainty that I couldn't even lie to myself into thinking otherwise. She knew what haunted my nightmares and smothered my dreams. The things I saw in my sleep were not born of Sirens and otherworldly powers, but people.
The Siren's lips curled into a sinister, knowing smirk. Her throne slowly descended such that we were soon on equal, level footing. "Because I have seen it before. A thousand times before has this story played out. I have seen your cities burning from one end to the other; your skies so filled with smoke and ash that it blotted out the sun; the earth itself seared into glass; and your Empire ground to dust under the weight of your failure. But it needn't be that way."
"It… it does not? You mean, I can save them? All of them?"
"There is, but it depends on whether or not you're willing to do what it takes."
As the Keeper of the Sacred Sakura, the Protector of the Empire, there was nothing more important than the safety and prosperity of my people. Even if it came at the cost of my life, my soul, I had always been prepared to shoulder any burden for them. If it meant that Mutsu could continue to smile and play every day, free from the struggles of war, or for Kawakaze to enjoy fishing on the shoreline in solitude, I would take on even the whole world. Even if the Admiralty were set on denying me my place in the fleet, I could never abandon that duty.
At the centre of Observer's throne was some kind of mouth, or rather a beak. It began to open with a brilliant light pouring out from it. "I offer you this, Nagato of the Sakura Empire; an opportunity to change your destiny, and the power to fulfil your wishes." From the throne's maw, a shimmering blue cube emerged, slowly floating out towards me. "With this, even you could ascend to something greater."
Ever since the incident with Orochi, I had always wondered how Akagi could've wandered down such a dark path, how she could have allowed herself to be deceived by the Sirens. As I stared into the Wisdom Cube before me, I could see everything I desired: the power to protect my friends, the wisdom to guide my people, the resolve to steer my home through any storm. All of it was within my fingertips.
More importantly, though, I saw that Observer had dropped her guard.
There were many mysteries surrounding the Wisdom Cubes. What we knew barely scratched the surface, and every time we gained even the slightest glimmer of knowledge it only led to a hundred more unanswered questions.
Questions like 'what happens when you shoot a Wisdom Cube with a forty-one centimetre armour-piercing round at point-blank range?'
Of course, I wouldn't get much of an answer to that question either. There was a blinding flash and a thundercrack so loud that it left my ears ringing afterwards. I was thrown off my feet by the force of the blast, and when my senses returned to me, the area had been engulfed in a thick smoke. It wasn't the same as the fog: it stung my eyes and throat, and it was thick with the scent of burnt powder. There was also another familiar scent, something that reminded me of a morning after a strong thunderstorm. The simple fact that I wasn't dead meant it was likely that Observer wasn't either. As far as messages went, though, I believe I made my sentiments clear to her.
"You would dare snub our generous offer?" Observer's voice echoed from the mist. "Are you some kind of fool?"
"I have it on good authority that I am indeed quite the fool," I snapped back. There was no sign of Observer anymore, although with the smoke as thick as it was I could've missed a passing battlecruiser. "But if even a fool can recognize the folly of conspiring with your ilk, then I would say that it reflects worse on you than I."
"I should just vaporize you for your impudence, but it'll be more amusing to see what happens from this."
I didn't have to wait long to discover the root of the Siren's foreboding remarks. The remnant smoke from the explosion soon dissipated, which was only a minor improvement as the fog was still in play, and a figure began to emerge into view. Warrior instincts told me to fire immediately, but the silhouette that began to emerge gave me pause. Instead of Observer, or some other siren, what I saw standing before me was another kansen. There was something unsettlingly familiar about her. She wore the red and white clothes of a miko, much plainer than my own and with the skirt cut unusually short, as though some battlefield modification. Her rigging was even more disconcerting, as it was definitely of a battleship type but the configuration didn't match anything in our current fleet. The presence of four turrets housing 41cm cannons was alarming as well, with one mounted over each shoulder and attached to the bow and stern portions of her rigging. She had all the hallmarks of a vessel of the Sakura Empire, and the gold chrysanthemum sigil on the crest of her helmet solidified that fact.
But I knew every vessel of our great fleet, and none of them matched her. Was she some kind of a Siren copy? A phenomenon of the Wisdom Cube? With Observer's last words still on my mind, I made an overly cautious approach to the still motionless kansen.
"Um, excuse me?" I called out.
Atop her head, her vulpine ears twitched at my voice. Her eyes then shot open with a hardened, crimson gaze meeting my own. Before another word could even be uttered, she had already sprung into action. I realized too late that a sheathed blade was mounted amongst her starboard rigging. With little more than a flash of steel and light, she drew and struck in one swift and wide sweep of her blade. I leapt back just in time to narrowly avoid the strike, with a few loose strands of my hair wafting in the breeze serving as a reminder of just how close it was. My opponent gave me no time to recover as she lunged after me, unleashing a flurry of strikes. I had to resort to using my turrets as shields to parry and block her attacks. Less equipped for close-quarters engagements, I knew I was at a severe disadvantage against this kansen, but rather than worried or anxious, I was simply challenged by this fact.
I tried to get my main guns to bear on her, but even with a quick, half-aimed attempt, the swordswoman knocked my barrels off to the side with her blade, causing the shots to fly wildly off-course. A second attempt with my other batteries yielded the same result, which confirmed my suspicion that my main guns weren't of any use at this close of an engagement. I needed to put some distance between us if I was to make full use of my firepower.
My assailant paused for a brief moment, her weapon held high and ready all the while. In a lull that felt like hours, we stared into one another's eyes, trying to predict what the other's next move would be. If she tried to strike high and downward, I could easily get my turret up to block it, and then use my starboard-side secondary batteries to get a few shots in. Was it too predictable though? The speed and ferocity of her attacks suggested an experienced hand. She might already be anticipating my reaction and has mentally adjusted her strategy accordingly. It was an endless guessing game of who could surprise who, and that was when I realized that the most unexpected thing for me to do would be to take the fight to her.
Despite not having a weapon, I surged forward at full speed with my rigging raised to meet her. My gambit paid off: taken by surprise from my sudden aggression, she tried to repel me with a volley from her secondary guns, but my belt armour was already braced to absorb the impacts. They barely even tickled me.
A thunderclap of steel-on-steel rang out as I threw my entire weight into her. The swordswoman was thrown back several feet, landing on her backside with a grunt and a large splash. It provided just enough of an opening for me to get one of my turrets on target and fire a volley. My opponent, however, appeared to be of the exact same mindset, and no sooner did I fire my cannons did hers return the gesture in kind.
A cacophony of explosions and clashing steel on steel rang out as our salvos found their mark, with the resulting blasts blanketing the area in more gunsmoke. My port side rigging took the brunt of the impact; one shell punched right through the belt armour, and the other penetrated the forward turret. The rigging had been badly mauled with large chunks of wrenched and fragmented steel, and smoke pouring out of the broken cracks of my hull. Steel splinters from the blasts had also torn up my clothing and left a number of small, bloodied cuts on my arms and legs. In total, my port side rigging was now barely operational with one turret out of action and the other with limited mobility. The same, though, could be said for my opponent, who took her hits in almost the exact same locations. A deep gully had been carved through the bow of her rigging where one of my shells made contact, while the second shot had punched through her forward turret's barbette and the resultant explosion had blown the turret clean out of its mounting. There was no way she wasn't hurting just as much as I was.
Yet despite the severity of the damage, the swordswoman gripped her weapon and surged forward once more with a tenacity that would put even Zuikaku to shame. It was impressive, really; she struck without hesitation or remorse, and with an unerring ferocity. It was everything I could've asked for in a warrior of the Sakura Empire, which made it all the more regrettable that she was my adversary.
I repulsed her first attempt with a volley from my secondary batteries. The battering of high explosive rounds forced her back a step, but rather than use the pause to back away, I chose instead to again do the unexpected. I got in closer, inside her reach, and went for her sword arm. She made a quick, desperate swipe to try and ward me off, but it was too late: I caught her blade between the gun barrels of my outer turret, and then tried to wrestle her sword from her grasp.
I had been feeling strange since the fight began, but it wasn't until we were locked in a struggle that I realized that I was… enjoying the fight. It could've been from all the adrenaline just coursing through my veins, but there was a thrill that I had been hitherto unfamiliar with. Though I was no stranger to combat, this was one of the few times I could think of where I was locked in battle with another kansen—a true battle, no less, where life and death teetered on a sword's edge. My opponent was not some Siren wielding unfathomable technologies from beyond, but another battleship who stood on equal footing with me. As one of the Big Seven and a warrior of the Sakura Empire, this was the kind of duel that I was born to fight. All the prayers I led, and all the ceremonies I presided over felt trite and meaningless in comparison to this moment. If I could not win this fight, what would anything in my life up until now have amounted to? My heart was racing, and my soul sang out; all other thoughts washed out in the haze of smoke and bloodlust.
With our arms busy twisting and wrenching for control of the sword, I tried to capitalize on the opportunity and swung an upper turret towards her. Faced with the prospect of a cannon aimed at her face, my opponent quickly used her off-hand to reach up and grab my turret by the barrel, keeping it from rotating into position. Though this left her with only one hand on her sword, the advantage was short-lived as she pulled the exact same tactic with one of her turrets, and soon I, too, had a hand grasping her turret to keep it at bay. We were, once more, in a deadlock, trying to wrestle for a sword with one hand, and keeping a 41cm cannon from blasting us in the face with the other.
"You are quite the formidable opponent," I growled through gritted teeth.
"I haven't even shown you my true strength," she barked back.
"Nor. Have. I!"
At that moment, I concocted a new plan. While I couldn't get my turret to bear on her directly, what I did instead was use my forward turret and fired a high explosive round into the water beside her. The unexpected blast was enough to knock her off-balance, and combined with a burst of strength, I was able to throw her off her feet. She slammed hard into the water, skidding and bouncing several feet before she managed to recover. All of which was just in time for her to receive a fusillade from my secondary batteries. Even with battleship-grade armour, a hammering of volley after volley of high explosive shells would pummel any kansen into submission. And just for added insurance, I pulled back while I kept up the fire, opening a safe distance between me and the growing cloud of smoke and debris.
After firing off a couple more salvos just for good measure, I finally allowed my guns to fall silent and rest. I had hoped that when the mist and dust had settled, my opponent would have seen the wisdom in finally yielding to my strength. Alas, such was not to be the case, as the smoke cleared to reveal the swordswoman to be still standing; singed and dented, but still defiant.
"Impudent fool," I grumbled to myself. If she didn't know well enough to stay down, then I would teach her what a Big Seven battleship could do. My three remaining turrets swung into position, and I heralded my next salvo with one simple command, "Kneel!"
Just as I fired, I noticed that my opponent's blade, still gripped firmly in her hands, had begun to crackle with a strange neon-blue energy. Arcs of electricity skirted across the length of her sword before she swung at the oncoming barrage of shells. All of a sudden, a huge burst of lightning erupted from her weapon, creating a massive wave of eldritch energy in its wake. My entire barrage was swallowed up by the strange energies, detonating harmlessly before my adversary. Not even a single steel splinter had made its way to her.
"How? Th-that is… impossible!"
"Impossible?" the mystery kansen replied. As she readied her blade once again, I noticed that her formerly crimson stare had now been replaced with a subtle, golden shimmer. "You can crush my turrets, shatter down my armour, and crack my keel… but the only thing impossible here is the belief that I will yield to anyone!" She lowered her stance, keeping her blade held close and high. I continued staring in disbelief as it now seemed like she was going to attempt to charge me from several metres away. She might've been quick for a battleship, but there was no way she could cross the distance before I got another salvo off. "One. A dozen. A hundred. I don't care how many you send! I will cut down anyone that stands in my way, you hear me?"
Suddenly, all of her turrets swung completely around. My confusion was only momentary, as the answer became self-evident when all of her turrets fired in unison. Great gouts of flame erupted from the barrels, launching not shells but herself. She hurtled through the water like some kind of rocket-powered human torpedo, and I barely had enough time to get out of the way before she was on top of me. Her sword, bathed in azur light, cleaved through my port side rigging as though it were nothing but wisps of smoke. The turrets, the gun batteries, all of the belt armour, gone—launched into the air in a shower of sparks, scrap, and splinters. I scrambled to try and get away from her when a sharp and burning pain shot up my back. A jolt of electricity surged through me as well: a second strike had sliced through the main body of my rigging. With a howl of pain, my knees gave out and I crashed into the ocean.
I wasn't quite sunk yet, but with half of my weapons now gone and the power in my rigging hanging by a precarious thread, I was dead in the water. Whatever powers coursed through that sword of hers had left me both numb and aching at the same time, like I had sat in seiza for too long. After a bit of undignified floundering, I managed to at least roll so that I floated on my back. If I were to meet my end, I preferred to at least face it.
With the eyes of a predator, the swordswoman loomed over me. From down below, her weapon looked so much more formidable than before. Even though she was readying to deliver the final blow, it wasn't fear of the fact that I was about to die, or anger because I wasn't strong enough to win in one duel against another battleship.
No, the only thought that drifted through my still-dazed mind was a sense of profound disappointment. How did I let the situation get to this point, I found myself wondering. I charged out into the Siren's fog with barely any support and nothing resembling a workable plan. Did I make my choice because it was the best response to the situation, or because it was the best response for my idealized vision of a flagship?
I really was a tremendous fool.
Then my thoughts drifted to Mutsu. It occurred to me that she would be very cross with me for making her wait so long. If I wound up being late for dinner, she'd eat my dessert, and then say that I was being an irresponsible big sister. What kind of person leaves their sister all alone?
Seeing my executioner ready to bring her blade down, I let out one last sigh and closed my eyes. "Forgive me, Mutsu…"
Silence hung in the air for a few seconds, and for a brief moment I wondered if death was really that painless. The prolonged absence of steel cutting through my flesh eventually coaxed my curiosity out of hiding, and I opened my eyes to see the tip of a blade just a hair's breadth from my throat.
"Why would you ask for my sister's forgiveness?" she asked. A flicker of confusion crossed her features, though I imagined mine was no different.
"Who are you?" I murmured back.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" she remarked in disbelief, almost as if taking offense. "I am Nagato, Fourth Flagship of the Combined Fleet!"
Impossible was naturally the first thing that crossed my mind. "But I am Nagato."
"Nagato? Of the Sakura Empire?"
The same thought ran through both of our minds at that exact moment. The idea of there being two Nagatos was nigh inconceivable, but a small part of me could tell that this kansen was who she claimed to be. There was an aura about her that was just too familiar to dismiss, and given how little we knew about the Sirens and their capabilities, nothing could be outside the realm of possibility.
"Ye—"
Before I could even finish a word, there came another roar of cannonfire. A concentrated broadside of armour-piercing shells slammed into her with a storm of hellfire that could only come from another member of the Big Seven. The other Nagato's rigging was torn asunder as she was thrown off her feet and hurtled several feet before crashing in a plume of smoke and water. I wasn't spared from the fusillade's fury either, but it was mostly shell splinters, and a lungful of more gunsmoke.
The realization that I was no longer in any danger didn't set in until I heard some familiar voices calling out to me, one with 'Lady Nagato' and the other 'Sis'.
"Lady Nagato, are you okay?" It was Kawakaze that first came into my field of view.
"Things are… quite far from okay," I said with a tired groan.
"Sis! Sis, did you see?" Mutsu, my sister, exclaimed as she joined Kawakaze's side. "I hit her with a full salvo, just like we practised! Also, who was she and why were you two fighting?"
"Questions should wait until we're safe in port," Kawakaze reminded her.
Together, they hauled my battered husk out of the water and back to my feet, albeit barely. It was only around then that I noticed that the fog had dissipated. When it happened I could not say, for with how focused I had been on the fight, the entire Fourth Fleet could've sailed by without my notice.
"What's the situation? Has the attack been repelled?"
"Didn't find any Sirens," Kawakaze answered. "Mass-produced or otherwise. When we got separated, I eventually stumbled upon Mutsu and a few others. We found you by following the sound of your cannons. Who was that you were engaging?"
"You would not believe me even if I told you." In truth, I still had trouble believing it. "Someone should bring her back to port as well. I encountered a Siren in the fog, and I fear there is something most sinister afoot. And whatever it is, I have no doubt this kansen will be at the centre of it."
Despite multiple sweeps of the harbour extending more than a dozen nautical miles out, there was no sign of any further Siren activity nearby, and a full debrief from all of our kansen able to sortie at the time confirmed what Kawakaze had already reported. It appeared that the fog rolled in without warning, and left just as unceremoniously. While I should've been relieved that the incident passed without any significant injuries among my colleagues and the non-combatants, the mystery that the encounter left us with had me feeling this was far from a victory.
"As I said, I fired a round into the Wisdom Cube, and when the smoke cleared, there was only her—ow!"
With too many unknowns, I had decided to hold the final debrief with just Akagi and Mikasa, although it had to be done in the infirmary as my injuries still needed tending, and the other Nagato was still unconscious. On top of that, the memories of the Project Orochi incident were still relatively fresh on people's minds, and the news of a Siren-linked kansen at our port could cause people unnecessary anxiety. It was as much a measure to protect my people as it was to protect our strange visitor.
"Just hold still, Lady Nagato," Akagi reminded me with a soft, cooing voice. She held my bare arm aloft while she plucked out shell splinters and bandaged my wounds. "Now, did this Siren give you any specifics about what sort of power she was offering you? Or what she would grant you?"
"Just the power to see my wishes fulfilled," I explained. "And I must admit that I have been plagued with worries of inadequacy. I suspect she was offering me a power that would make me stronger in battle."
Akagi nodded knowingly, but said nothing until she had finished the last of the dressings. "The Sirens can certainly live up to their namesake. You were wise to turn them down," she mused in a sombre whisper. She then looked to Mikasa, who had spent the last few minutes entranced in wonder and curiosity with the other Nagato laying in the bed adjacent to mine. "And what do you make of our new little guest?"
"She sure does look like a Nagato," Mikasa remarked. She was busy tugging on the unconscious girl's ears, examining her face in closer detail, and even moving her lips up to reveal a small set of fangs. "But can a Siren really do that? Just conjure another one out of thin air? And why does she still look different if she's also Nagato?"
"When it comes to Sirens and Wisdom Cubes, anything is possible," Akagi said, echoing my own sentiments. With all of my injuries covered, she got up and moved over to join Mikasa at the other bedside. "When I… 'worked' with Observer, she occasionally made mention of different timelines. I suspect that they can move across time as easily as we move through the waves." With an almost maternal look to her, she gently stroked the girl's hair and smiled. "I think what we have here is a little piece of one of those other timelines—a product of a million different choices and outcomes to create something unique."
Mikasa was understandably confused; I was as well, but I had to maintain the quiet dignity of a leader, so at the very least I had to pretend I understood everything being said. "You're saying this Nagato is from another time? Like, an alternate reality sort of thing?"
"Correct," Akagi confirmed for her. "Which means at the very least, her heart is still that of the Sakura Empire. If she's as strong as our Nagato says, she could be a valuable addition to our fleet."
"Wait a moment," I interjected. "Are you suggesting that we recruit this Nagato into our own navy? Are you sure that is right?"
"She is of the Sakura Empire; it's only natural that she stays with her own people."
"But if she is from another reality, then does that not mean there is another Sakura Empire that is now without their Nagato?" I asked with a growing sense of sympathy. "She must have family and friends who are very worried about her, and people who are depending upon her leadership. If the Sirens somehow brought her here, then surely there must be some way to return her to where she belongs." Just as my own thoughts once turned to Mutsu when everything appeared hopeless, I couldn't help but wonder if the other Nagato thought of hers just as much. Even if it was unknowingly, a part of me still felt responsible for this situation. "We have to find a way to help her."
I worried I was being a bit too sentimental for my own good again. From a strategic standpoint, what Akagi suggested was a sound plan. The other Nagato was able to swat incoming salvos out of the air and tore through battleship-grade armour with relative ease. If we did not secure such a valuable asset for ourselves, we risked it falling into the hands of the other nations, who may have been our allies currently, but such an arrangement may not last forever. As Akagi would say, without the strength to be self-reliant, we would forever be at the mercy of the whims of the gods. Or worse.
Much to my surprise, rather than rebuke my fairy-tale sentimentalism, Akagi simply bowed her head in deference. "My sincere apologies for speaking out of place," she said. "Naturally, we should help her to the best of our abilities. However, if it was the Sirens that brought her here, then it may be beyond our means to send her home."
"We shall offer her refuge for as long as she requests it, but as a guest of a neutral power," I instructed after a moment of consideration. "She is not to be burdened with any obligations to the Empire." If she were anything like me, though, I doubt she would sit idle on the sidelines if we started to have more trouble with the Sirens. The simple fact that she was such a proficient warrior suggested that she didn't spend as much time tending to prayers and shrines as I did. "Now, Akagi, as the closest thing our Empire has to an expert on Sirens, what would you—"
I was interrupted by the sudden awakening of our guest, who bolted upright in a cold sweat with a shout of 'no, wait!', much to our collective surprise. She sat there frozen in terror for a few seconds before the realization sank in that she was not in whatever nightmare that haunted her sleep. I couldn't help but wonder what sort of nightmares would give someone as formidable as her such an expression. Gradually, fear subsided and gave way to an anticipated confusion when she started to look to her surroundings and to us.
"Wh—where am I?" she asked, her voice weak and tired. "Who are you people?" I, for one, was just relieved that she decided to use words instead of weapons this time. After a few visual sweeps across the room, her gaze fixed upon me. "Wait, you're that one who said she was Nagato of the Sakura Empire."
"Because she is," Mikasa answered in my stead. "And this over here is Akagi, who bandaged your injuries might I add, and I'm Mikasa."
"You're…? And you're…?" The confusion on the other Nagato had clearly overwhelmed even her ability to speak in complete sentences. Her gaze kept bouncing between my two colleagues, each time her bewilderment only growing worse. "You can't—I don't—"
Before our troubled visitor could slip further into shock, Akagi reached over with a firm, reassuring grip on the shoulder. "Miss Nagato, before you met the girl over there, what is the last thing you remember?"
The other Nagato's anxiety appeared to subside once she was given a task to focus on. "It's… kind of fuzzy. I remember… fog. And a Siren. There was a bright light. And then I saw her, and…" Her ears suddenly dropped when her eyes settled on me again. "Oh my goodness," she said in a shameful murmur. "I… I attacked you. I'm so terribly sorry. I-I thought you were a trick of the Sirens." Even in her injured state, she tried to bow in apology, but thankfully Mikasa was there to ease her back before the girl aggravated her wounds further.
"Worry not," I said to throw my reassurances in as well. "In truth, I was under the same false belief during the fight. It is reassuring to know that you appear to regard the Sirens as we do."
"I still don't understand, though, how you could be the people you say you are."
Since I didn't quite understand all of the finer details, I opted instead to gesture over to Akagi to offer a better explanation than I could ever provide. "We believe that you are from an alternate timeline, and that the Sirens used their technology to steal you away and bring you here, to ours."
"Alternate… timeline?" Nagato said, her expression twisting in confusion in such a way that made her ears sit at a skewed angle. "But shouldn't I still recognize you?"
"My reaction was much the same," I remarked off-hand.
"Every decision made shapes the world around it," Akagi continued to explain with the patience of a school teacher. "And in turn, the world shapes the people in it. As kansen, we are embodiments of human will, so we would be changed if the people are as well. There will be many things that are different to you, and some things that are not. We hope, though, that the spirit of the Sakura Empire remains familiar to you."
Nagato's eyes widened in an instant. "The Sakura—you mean, we are in the capital?" She did not even wait for an answer before she scrambled out of bed and hurried to the nearest window. Even when slowed by her injuries, she remained quick enough to outpace Mikasa, who tried in vain to keep the girl from overexerting herself. Through the window, she could see out into the streets of the city, but more importantly she could see the great, pink canopy of the Sacred Sakura Tree sitting at the heart of our port. "The Sakura tree," she murmured to herself. "I'm actually home."
She sounded far more relieved than I had anticipated. "Do you not spend a lot of time at the home port?" I asked. "You said you were the flagship of the Combined Fleet, did you not?"
"A leader should remain visible on the frontlines. My guns were meant to destroy my enemies, not decorate a shrine," Nagato answered. "Still, I've missed this sight. Things seem very peaceful here."
With a strained groan, I got up and joined my counterpart at the window. "It is, and I am very proud that we have managed to preserve that peace so far," I said. "And you are welcome to consider it home until we find a way to return you to yours."
The other Nagato fell silent as she regarded me with a mix of relief, surprise, and humility. "Even after we tried to kill one another?" she asked, incredulous. "You offer me so much despite how much I've dishonoured myself with my conduct."
"Mistakes were made on both sides. What is important is that we learn from them and move forward," I explained to her, followed by a gentle bow. "We would be honoured to have you as our guest."
For the first time since we met, Nagato looked calm. Maybe even hopeful. I couldn't imagine what was going through her mind with the news that she was so far from the home she knew and the friends that she cared for. It must be very lonely for her, I feared, and, though idealistic, I could think of no better way to help her out. Besides, as Akagi said, this was the natural place for her to stay.
"In that case, I will be in your care." Nagato returned my bow in kind. "If it is not too forward, may I ask if we have any leads?"
I was about to say that we had less than nothing to currently work on, which was not a great way to restart things between us, but thankfully for both of us, I didn't have to. Akagi joined us at the window, placing herself between the two of us, and I could already tell she had something clever in mind.
"If I may make a suggestion," she began with her usual playful charm that hinted she knew more than she let on, "while I'm sure that Miss Nagato would likely enjoy her stay here, I believe we would be better able to find answers to our mystery elsewhere." I had a feeling where she was leading us with the conversation, which began to worry me. "Now, one of our brightest minds happens to belong to a certain entrepreneurial little cat. However, ever since the Orochi incident, she has decided to stay at the main base for Azur Lane."
"Yes, running that little shop of hers," I replied with little effort to hide my distaste. "I would've preferred if she had stayed here so I could get my rigging repaired in a timely manner, but I guess the Admiralty board prefers the money she sends back to us."
"I see some things remain consistent even across timelines," Nagato quipped dryly.
Akagi laughed quietly to herself. "Between having access to the best minds and equipment available, it would make sense to request their assistance with this matter."
"I'm surprised to hear you suggest turning to our allies right away," I commented to my colleague, giving her a knowing glance. "And not even just from Ironblood, but the whole of Azur Lane."
"Under normal circumstances I might've suggested otherwise. But given what happened with Project Orochi, I wouldn't want any rumours of secret studies involving Siren-linked matters to give our allies the wrong impression."
I may not have been as staunch a proponent of self-reliance as Akagi, but even I had some reluctance about turning to Azur Lane right away. It wasn't so much a matter of pride but an apprehension about unloading our 'problem' onto someone else. If they did agree to help, we'd have to send Nagato to their main base, and I would've liked to have given her an opportunity to stay in the Empire longer. Still, Akagi had a point: the alliance was still shaky and in its infancy, so the best way to preserve it was to approach this issue with openness and transparency.
"It is a sound plan, and perhaps our best option," I said, reluctantly. "Nagato, are you okay with this course of action? It would likely require you to go to Azur Lane's main base."
"I would prefer an expedient solution," Nagato said with a firm nod. There was a flicker of wariness about her, likely at the thought of going somewhere that she would be even less familiar with than here. "Are you absolutely sure that it would be safe for me to go?"
"I am certain," I reassured her. There might have been a bit of pride talking there, as I had been the one to cement the alliance in the first place. "And do not worry, I shall stay by your side through all of this."
Not everyone, though, shared in my sense of commitment. "Lady Nagato, with all due respect, it wouldn't be wise to have you leave the home port so soon after a Siren encounter," Akagi advised. "As the flagship, your leadership is needed here, not just for the fleets but for the people as well. I know I may not be Azur Lane's favourite, but I would be willing to accompany Miss Nagato—"
"No." I was firm and defiant, which took Akagi by surprise for a fraction of a second. Just to drive the point home, I guided the other Nagato away from the window and put myself between the two. "I have made my decision; she is my responsibility. If you and the Admiralty are so concerned about the need for a flagship, then you have my permission to assign Lady Yamato to the position forthwith. She should be more than prepared by this point to handle the responsibility."
Akagi's brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out. After staring at the two Nagatos before her, her expression softened up and she bowed her head obediently. "As you wish, Lady Nagato," she eventually answered. "I will prepare a message for our contacts at Azur Lane, and inform the Admiralty of your decision."
After we exchanged bows, Akagi departed. I also instructed Mikasa to accompany her on the task, which was more done as a precaution. Ever since Project Orochi, it has been more and more difficult to accept everything Akagi advised me at face value. When she suggested being the one to accompany Nagato, a part of me didn't trust her and thought that she might have ulterior motives for wanting to stay involved. I felt guilty for not being able to trust my friend. In the fallout of Orochi, I was the one who not only petitioned to keep Akagi and Kaga in their current positions of power, but to be spared any punishment whatsoever. I had told everyone else to continue trusting them and to treat them just as they had before, but here I was doing the exact opposite.
Was I a hypocrite, or just being realistic?
"Are you certain it is wise to relinquish your position just for my sake?" Nagato asked.
I offered a half-hearted shrug at first. "I was losing the position either way. At least now I have some measure of control over the how and when." As I spoke, I removed the gold hairpins that had for years signified my position as the Keeper of the Sacred Sakura Tree. "The handover ceremony was going to be a dull affair, anyways."
Nagato suppressed a quiet giggle in her best effort to remain dignified. I was relieved that we were at least getting along. Tossing my hairpins aside, I was just about to suggest we retire to the castle for the evening: it had been a long day and we weren't going to leave for the Azur Lane base until we heard back from them. Instead, though, the door flew open and a familiar face barged into the room.
"Sister? Are you here?" It was Mutsu, as energetic as always. Once she spotted the two of us, she had already rushed across the room to embrace me. "There you are! I've been waiting all day, but Akagi and Mikasa said I had to wait outside until you were done talking. What were you talking about anyways?" Before I could answer, though, her attention switched over to the other Nagato. "Oh, and who's this? Is this the person you were fighting with before? Oh, does this mean we're all friends now? I sure hope so because otherwise that means you hurt my sister, and if you do that then I'm never forgiving you."
The rather intense barrage of questions left Nagato staring at my sister with a sort of wide-eyed bewilderment, like an animal caught in a spotlight. She looked to me with eyes that pleaded for help.
"Yes, we're all friends now," I reassured Mutsu, much to her excitement. It still left the delicate issue of how I would explain who our new guest was. "Sister, I know this might be hard to believe, but this girl here is… Nagato."
Mutsu laughed at first. "What? That's just silly. You're Nagato, sis."
"I know I am," I explained while continuing to keep a serious tone. "But so is she. We are both Nagato. She is just a slightly different Nagato from another world."
"Soooo… you're Nagato," my confused sister asked as she pointed to me.
"Yes," I answered.
She then pointed to my counterpart. "But she's also Nagato."
"Yes," the other Nagato replied.
One could almost hear the boilers firing at full blast as my sister parsed and processed the new information. It gave me a few precious seconds in order to mentally brace myself for the litany of 'why's that would soon fall like raindrops in a monsoon. She was inquisitive enough when it came to everyday things, let alone something as complicated as matters involving Sirens.
"Does that mean she's my sister, too?" Mutsu eventually asked.
My counterpart and I exchanged puzzled glances for a moment. On the list of questions I expected, that didn't even make it into the top ten.
"I… guess so?" I offered up with all the uncertainty of a shot in the dark. "We are technically the same person."
Somehow, that was the only thing that appeared to matter to my little sister, who promptly squealed in delight as she threw her arms around the other Nagato. "Eeeeeee! New sister! I always wanted another one," she exclaimed. "And I finally get to be a big sister, too!"
"She is still older than you," I reminded her.
Mutsu shot me a smug and defiant grin while holding the other Nagato at arm's length. "But she's younger than me to this world, which makes me the more experienced sister." I wanted to dispute that, but I honestly had trouble finding an argument against that rather twisted logic. "So don't you worry, Lil' Nagato, your big sister Mutsu will take good care of you!"
I worried that the other Nagato might be put off by my sister's rather invasive assertiveness. With how different my counterpart and I were, I could only imagine the chasm that likely existed between her Mutsu and mine. And at first, it did look like she was a little disturbed, or at the very least unsure of how to even react as she just gave Mutsu a stunned, blank stare that lasted long enough to make me wonder if she had gone catatonic. When she finally did react, it was my turn to be surprised as she lunged forward and hugged Mutsu, her arms wrapped tight around my sister's slender frame, and buried her face into the white robes.
"Aw, there, there, Nagato," Mutsu cooed back playfully. She wrapped her arms around her new sister and was soon patting her on the back of the head. "You've had an awfully tough day, haven't you? It's okay. You can just take it easy. Your big sister Mutsu will take care of you. Are you hungry? I bet you are. I'll take you to the castle, and we'll have a nice big dinner. We've got some pudding for dessert, too."
Nagato just nodded in silence. My sister kept an arm around her as she led her out of the room and began the walk back to the castle. I, for one, was just relieved to see that my counterpart appeared to be adjusting well to her situation. It couldn't be easy to find one's self in a strange new world, surrounded by people who were both familiar and strangers at the same time. I even felt a little foolish for worrying if she would get along with Mutsu; my sister was far more personable than I ever could be.
Though there were still a great many things to worry and wonder about, I decided to put those thoughts to bed for the day and just focus on the here and now. After taking one last glance to the hairpins that still sat on the nearby bed, I started on my way to join my sister. There would be plenty of time for grappling with Siren matters in the morning. Plus, if I tarried too long, Mutsu will eat my pudding.