Chapter Fifteen
"Can you believe the nerve of that guy? He's been here all of two days and he's already bossing us around like he owns the place."
While Montpelier and I were far from becoming friends, our new assignment assisting Captain DeWolf in setting up his new office meant there wasn't anyone else but myself to listen to her complaints. She didn't hesitate to speak her mind for any of the trips between the storage depot and the captain's office, hauling furniture back on each journey. Nobody in the empire would've ever assigned me to such menial work, but I had to admit that it was a novel experience all the same. I never realized how much stuff an officer needed to do their job: desks, chairs, tables, couches, multiple filing cabinets, shelves, and for some reason he requested a piano be brought to his office as well. He said that, aside from where he slept, his office would likely be his home for the duration of his stay. I prayed that didn't mean he intended to live in his office, buried beneath whatever mountain of administrative work his job required, but I decided to remain silent for now.
"He is our duly assigned commanding officer. I do believe this is within the purview of his authority," I replied as we reached the final set of stairs. With a couch hefted between the two of us, the only difficulty in transporting the furniture was the fact that his office was on the second floor of the administrative building. This meant we had the precarious task of hauling our cargo up a flight of stairs, a task most troublesome not because we lacked the strength, but because of the awkward arrangement required.
"That's not what I meant," she argued before taking her first step backwards up the stairs. As she ascended, she had to stoop lower and lower in order to accommodate the fact that I couldn't lift the trailing end of the couch too high. "Just because he can order us around, doesn't mean he has to. He shouldn't just waltz into a place when nobody asked for him, and start making a ruckus that nobody wants. Everything was just fine without him."
"Enterprise believed differently." As Montpelier didn't want to bend over too much, I had to lift the couch even further to compensate, almost to the point where it was held high above my head. "Also, I am the smaller of the two of us, I should be the lead for the stairs."
"Yeah, I bet you'd like that wouldn't you? Then you get to accidentally drop a couch on me." Despite the awkward positioning, we began to ascend the stairs one cumbersome step at a time. The worst part, however, was the halfway point where the stairs had to double back to finish the ascent, but there was enough horizontal space to accommodate the length of the couch. As a result, we had to fumble the couch into an almost vertical position as we angled it over the center railing. "And the only reason Enterprise needed to ask for help was because somebody went ahead and doubled the number of kansens stationed here overnight."
"Are you implying that I am indirectly responsible for the Captain's assignment to this base, and thus your discontent?"
"No, I'm outright stating that it's your fault." At least she was direct about it. "First you cause that Orochi nonsense, then you shove this alliance onto us, then you swarm all over our base, and now my sis—"
Somewhere in all of her ranting, she must've either lost her grip or her footing or something, because the couch suddenly veered to the side, and it became rapidly apparent that I was the only person holding onto it. Now while I could support the weight of the couch on my own, the problem was I was balancing it from one end, and all the weight of the other end was falling to my side, and I just didn't have the reach to compensate. We were only seconds away from having to explain why the floor had a couch-shaped dent in it, when a free hand suddenly rose up and caught the leading edge before it could reach that point of no return.
"Please don't drop the couch. It's the only one they had left in the depot." It was Captain DeWolf on the end of that hand. He had somehow caught up with us, and was now standing just behind me with one hand bracing the couch, while the other balanced a large box.
"Sorry sir. Lost my grip for a second," Montpelier stated, although her flattened tone didn't make her sound very apologetic.
"Everything okay here?" DeWolf asked. Though it was a general question, he looked at me specifically when he spoke, and I doubt it was just because my partner was several steps higher.
I had been enough of an inconvenience to Montpelier that I didn't want to add to her troubles by repeating her complaints or outing her as a problem. Secondly, if this assignment was to succeed in smoothing out the difficulties between us, I needed to accomplish that without further interference. "We're good, sir," I answered.
Once we had the couch stabilized, we continued our ascent, with the captain lingering just behind us until there was enough room for him to pass by. We remained silent the whole time, and it wasn't until DeWolf was well outside earshot that Montpelier spoke again.
"This wouldn't have happened if you just let your guard dog come along."
She was, of course, referring to Kawakaze, who was absent because I specifically told her to not intervene. As much as I would have liked a friendly face with me, I knew having any of my friends along would end with them trying to do a share of the work. This assignment was my responsibility, and I wouldn't let it burden anyone else. That said, there were certainly times where it felt as though somebody was watching me from afar, but every time I checked over my shoulder, as I did when Montpelier spoke, I saw nothing but an empty corridor behind me. In fact, other than a couple of passing kansens who asked us if the captain was with us, we hadn't seen anyone else since starting our new assignment.
"She is my friend, not a guard dog," I shot back before performing a second shoulder check. "Are you really that opposed to Captain DeWolf's presence?"
"I don't have anything against him personally, I just don't see any point to it. A guy like him is just going to sit in a big leather seat and bark orders at us as if we don't know what we're doing. A person like that could never understand what being a kansen is like, what we have to go through on a regular basis. Kansens should be led by other kansens; doing anything less makes it feel like we're just… weapons for them to use as they see fit."
It was curious how our two cultures could be so different, and yet one could still find the same kind of opinions on either side. There were more than a few in the empire who felt similarly, and certainly Akagi was among those who believed that a strong kansen force could only truly be led by someone of equal strength, which implied other kansens. There may have been room in her opinion for a human officer, but I had never seen Akagi view anybody that wasn't a kansen as anything less than a weakling. Kaga's opinion was similar, if not more extreme. It made sense in general; people preferred a commander who led from the front rather than behind. It gave a sense of unity, that the leader was 'one of them.' For kansens, this posed a challenge since a human commander was very obviously not 'one of us' not just in terms of status or rank, but physically and mentally as well.
"For what it is worth, I do not believe that Captain DeWolf is the type of man who would treat us as weapons to be used as he saw fit."
"Isn't he the guy who put that collar on you? Why are you defending him so much?"
"I just believe he should be given a fair chance to prove himself. Enterprise believed in him, so we should extend the same courtesy."
It was a little unfair to bring Enterprise into the conversation, but there was no way that my words alone were ever going to reach her. Montpelier just halted in the corridor for a second, clicked her tongue, and murmured back a reluctant, "Guess you have a point."
Even if I couldn't change her opinion of me, I would consider it a victory if I could at least convince her to give the captain a second chance.
The conversation fell silent again as we arrived at DeWolf's office. It was a modest suite that had a nice view overlooking the naval yard, or at least I imagined it would be nice given half of the window had been tarped over due to what I could only assume to be damage from the recent attack. It was still in the process of being set up, so it was bare bones in terms of decor with bare shelves and blank off-white walls, save for a painting of a naval destroyer that DeWolf was in the process of hanging behind his desk—a Tribal-class from the looks of it.
As we entered, he gestured over to the corner immediately to our right. "Put the couch against the back wall over there," he instructed.
"Why are you using this place anyways?" Montpelier asked as we set the couch down right in the corner of the room. "Couldn't you just use the bigger office down the hall? Way more space there, and everything's already set up."
"Because that's Enterprise's office."
"She hates her office: never uses it."
DeWolf finished adjusting the painting and then headed on his way out again. "I'm not her replacement," he said before departing.
That left us without any standing instructions, as we had moved all of the heavy furniture that was available. Aside from some minor adjustments, there wasn't anything left that necessarily required a kansen's strength to handle. Judging by the stack of boxes in the center of the room, there was still a lot of unpacking to do, but it was probably best to leave the finer details of room decor to the captain himself. I was content to just sit tight until he returned and hopefully gave us our next instructions, but Montpelier grabbed the nearest box she could, set it down on the desk, and opened it up.
"M-Montpelier, what are you doing?" I blurted out.
"Unpacking. Aren't you curious what kind of person he is?" she replied, clearly aware that her initiative was just a cover for snooping.
"But we should not…"
My words trailed off as curiosity began to override my better judgement. After all, Montpelier was already unpacking regardless of what I said, so I was going to see the contents. There was no harm in taking a quick look; these were the captain's personal effects, and if he was going to be putting them up on the shelves then he would obviously have no issue with others seeing them. Soon I was by the Unionist's side, peering into the box's contents. There was the expected assortment of books and plaques, along with fanciful stationery, but the items that caught both of our attention were a set of six glass jars, secured in a single bundle by tape and crumbled newspaper.
"I do not recall recovering this much when we rescued the captain," I remarked.
Montpelier held the assortment of jars in her hand, angling them enough to peer at them from below without upsetting the contents too much. "He must have had these sent in from the mainland," she speculated. The jars held a peculiar assortment of items: an old bolt, a jagged piece of metal, a handful of sand, a red and white signal flag, a burnt bow tie, and a small lock of hair. "What do you think? Momentos?"
"Is collecting items in jars a common hobby in the west?"
"I don't think so," Montpelier replied before giving the jars a subtle shake. "I know a few girls in the Royal Navy keep weird fungus stuff in jars, but I hear that's for making some kinda tea."
Since staring at them wasn't going to unlock their secrets, I decided to take another look in the box to see what else there was. A small wooden box at the bottom caught my attention, so I took it out and set it down on the captain's desk. Etched onto the lid was the lion and crown heraldry of the Royal Navy, along with the words 'Capt Victoria Andrea Cunningham'. Why would the captain have a box with someone else's name on it? Overwhelmed by curiosity, I opened the lid, which revealed a velvet-lined interior housing a slew of medals and ribbons. The most prominent award, atop of all the others, featured a silvered cross with a wreath backdrop, and the Royal Isle's crown emblazoned in the center.
"I've seen a few girls from the Royal Navy with that one," Montpelier remarked, now standing over my shoulder. "Conspicuous Gallantry, or something like that."
"Sounds prestigious," I replied.
Just as I was about to close the box, I noticed a photo pinned to the underside of the lid. It was of a young woman standing on a shoreline made of large, weathered stones, like rolling hills of pure granite. Behind her was an old white lighthouse, and the vast ocean horizon beyond, the sharp borders faintly obscured by an early morning fog seeping in. Though the light of the dawning sun was low, her smile was bright, and the image captured the fluttering of her vibrant red hair and the yellow sundress she wore as they were toyed with by a mischievous sea breeze. It was a strangely captivating candid moment; I was so used to the few humans I interact with being engrossed in the war against the Sirens that it was easy to forget that, once upon a time, they shared such peaceful, joyous moments.
A life outside of war…
It was almost too surreal to even consider.
A pang of guilt soon swatted at the back of my mind; a realization that I was peering into something truly private and not meant for mere curiosity's sake. I closed the lid just in time, as a knocking from the office door came immediately afterwards. Without even waiting for an answer, in strode the tall, confident figure of King George V. She stopped with a click of her heels and a faint jingle of the medals and scabbard she wore, crisp and precise.
"Is James not in?" she asked, even though the answer was self-evident.
"He stepped out to get some more things. Is there something you need?" Montpelier replied.
King George held up a stack of folders she had been carrying under one arm. "He asked for all of the compiled reports on the recent Siren attacks, so I thought I would drop them off for him." As she set the stack of papers down on the captain's desk, she promptly took notice of the medal box beside me. For a brief, flickering moment, that steadfast, self-assured visage of hers softened. Was that sadness I saw in her? Before I could even realize what I had seen, a familiar smile adorned her features, although it seemed a little forced. "You shouldn't be looking through the captain's things," she said, less of a scolding but rather a gentle reminder. She took the medal box in a surprisingly delicate embrace, as if her grasp alone could shatter it into pieces, and then set it back in with the rest of the captain's still-unpacked personal effects.
"The captain should be back soon if you want to wait for him," Montpelier offered with a gesture over to the newly-placed couch.
"Duty calls, I'm afraid. Plus it might get even more crowded out in the hallway if I hang around," she answered as she gestured back to the door.
"Crowded?" I replied, confused.
"Word's already spread about what happened in the mess hall, so now everybody is a little curious about our new officer," an amused King George explained. "I already caught a few destroyers peeking in from the hallway when I came in. You might want to consider keeping the door closed."
Montpelier and I glanced to the doorway just in time to catch a flicker of movement. If what our colleague said was true, then it was more curious onlookers hoping to see what all the fresh gossip was about. It would explain why we thought we were being watched earlier. I had a feeling the captain would not want to be a spectacle for the other kansens, but curiosity had a way of spreading like wildfire, and fighting it often only made it worse, so we would likely just have to bear with it until the novelty wore off. With any luck, DeWolf would have that base-wide briefing that would sate everybody's interest.
"In that case, could you tell them all to leave on your way out?" Montpelier suggested. "Nothing interesting to see here anyways."
"Sure, I can do that for you," she answered as she strode for the door. "By the way, those shelves are awfully dusty. You might want to consider giving them a wipe-down before you put anything on them."
I had expected her to stay longer, especially as it made sense to hand in reports directly rather than just leaving them on the desk, but I figured she must've had pressing matters to attend to herself. From what I understood, she was something of a de facto leader for the Royal Navy when Queen Elizabeth wasn't around, which was frequent since her duties regularly required her presence back in the Royal Isles. It wasn't too dissimilar to how things were for me when I was flagship, except that I didn't have any overseas bases to routinely visit; I had the likes of Akagi and Mikasa to handle such responsibilities when the need arose. In hindsight, I should've tried to get involved in matters abroad, if for no other reason than for the experience of seeing what laid outside the empire.
Montpelier set the assortment of jars down on the desk. "I'll go get some water and rags for the shelves," she announced.
That left me alone in the room for the moment. Having decided not to risk further snooping in the captain's belongings, there wasn't much else to do except wait until one of the absentees returned. In my idleness, I soon found myself sitting in the captain's chair, which was just a simple swivel chair covered in what I was certain was fake leather. For someone who was acting commander of one of the largest kansen fleets in history, it seemed rather plain and unassuming, yet at the same time, it felt like something that he would choose for himself. As I continued waiting, my thoughts invariably drifted back to the photo I saw in the medal box. Was the girl in the picture who the box belonged to? And if so, why did Captain DeWolf have it? Why did he have it sent here?
"You okay there Nagato?"
DeWolf's voice suddenly calling out to me startled me from my train of thought, which had run deeper than I thought since I didn't even notice that he re-entered the room and now stood on the opposite side of the desk. Not only was I left embarrassed due to my startled yelp, I soon realized I was sitting in his chair, which could be considered a serious breach of protocol seeing as he was my acting commanding officer.
"D-DeWolf, I was just waiting for you to return," I blurted out as I hopped from his chair. "You did not leave any standing orders, so I was unsure of what to do next."
"I see," he murmured back. His eyes drifted around the room for a moment before settling on his collection of jars. "Who took those out?"
Duty compelled me to be honest, but at the same time, I didn't want to just throw Montpelier overboard when we were still on such tenuous terms with one another. "Montpelier did. We thought we could start unpacking some of your things, but the shelves were really dusty, so she went to get some cleaning supplies." It was the truth, at least, just painted in the most favourable light for my partner.
"And these documents?" he followed up.
"King George dropped them off. She said you had asked for them."
"Ah, the combat reports. Excellent!" DeWolf sounded surprisingly elated at the news considering most kansens regarded paperwork with the same level of enthusiasm as visiting the dentist. I expected him to take a seat at his desk right away, but instead he went to the pile of boxes in the center of the room and brought back a couple of them. "Here, once the shelves are clean, you can start putting the stuff in here on the shelves. It doesn't really matter where."
As the captain sat down to start going over the reports, I took a peek into the boxes he brought. He wouldn't have picked them if he had concerns about me seeing what was in them, so I saw no harm in satisfying my curiosity. Inside were a number of books, binders, and framed pictures and documents. Most of them were pretty standard for a man in his position: pictures of him alongside other officers at formal gatherings and celebrations, a few of him standing on the deck of a small warship.
"Has Montpelier been giving you any trouble?" DeWolf asked.
"She's not caused me any trouble," I reassured him. There was some hesitancy, though, since while she wasn't angry at me any longer, she was still far from content.
Sensing that hesitation, the captain pressed the issue. "But?"
"Miss Montpelier seems more troubled by you, now, than by any of my transgressions," I explained. Though it was something of a betrayal to inform him of my partner's misgivings, part of me suspected that he only asked because he had overheard parts of it already. Besides, it wasn't as though the complaints had been said to me in confidence. I owed her nothing, but at the same time, I didn't want to cause her more trouble.
Thankfully, at least for my conscience, DeWolf wasn't surprised or troubled by the news. "I'm certain she's just stressed, same as Denver was. She's just… coping with it in her own way," he answered without a hint of worry. "If she's venting about me, then at least she's not upset with you."
While I wouldn't normally want someone else to shoulder such a burden, I had to admit if he had planned for this outcome, it was a welcomed reprieve. Without Montpelier yelling in my face, I could appreciate her idiosyncrasies better. She was a bit blunt and terse, but she was honest and not afraid to speak her mind, it seemed. In a way, she reminded me a bit of Kawakaze. As I dared to hope that maybe I could forge something resembling a camaraderie with the frigid Montpelier, I returned my attention to unpacking the captain's things from the box he left for me. Among the items I pulled, another of his many pictures caught my attention: it featured a man in a naval uniform, but the photo itself was worn and aged, and the uniform that he wore was dated. It had to be family, as I noted a vague familiarity between him and Captain DeWolf, especially in the way the contours portrayed a youthfulness that wasn't reflected in the ranking insignia on his collar.
"An ancestor of yours?" I asked, as I showed him the photo.
"My uncle Harry," he answered. "Well, technically great uncle. He was my grandfather's brother."
"Does military service run in your family?"
"Not overly so," he offered with a shrug. "The seasickness practically gallops, though."
"Why stay in the navy if you get so seasick?" One did not just drop into the rank of captain without knowing their physical limitations, so it seemed unusual for someone to stick with a career that agitated a known condition. It reminded me a bit of Amagi, who remained committed to her duties despite her ailing health, but at the same time, she never had much of a choice. Then again, even if she had options, I had no doubt that she would've stayed regardless.
"I'll admit there have been times when I've given serious thought about leaving. Stubbornness, I guess?" he said with some hesitancy. He must've seen the strange, twisted amusement in it, though, as he just chuckled quietly. "You know how when a person tells you that you're not cut out for something, it makes you want to do it even more? Just to prove them wrong. I suppose it's a bit like that."
Though I had only known DeWolf for a short while, I found it hard to believe that somebody would think him incapable of his job. It was a sentiment I understood well—there were many times people said I shouldn't do something because it wasn't befitting of one who wore the mantle of flagship, only for me to disregard the advice and do it anyway. I would always say it was for nobler reasons, but in truth there was always the occasional seed of selfish desire fueling my decisions.
"I believe it is safe to say that you have proven your detractors wrong."
"I wouldn't be so quick to declare victory. Commanding a naval port is a huge step from a ship, and full of kansens on top of that. I realize I'm stepping into a role many people would prefer remained vacant. Part of me wonders if I'm cut out for an operation of this size."
"Such thoughts do not become you. You conducted yourself well in the mess hall today," I said, feeling a need to stop that sort of negative thinking. "I did not think it would have been possible to talk down so many, especially as a non-kansen. And the way you managed to stay so calm and collected throughout it was, um, you know… very… uh, impressive. To me, at least," I stumbled a bit at the end, as a sudden sense of heat overcame me. I never realized how embarrassing it could be to offer praise outside of the conventional 'good job' and 'excellent work.' I prayed I did not come across too strongly.
"I, umm… thanks," he murmured back, seemingly surprised. "If I'm to be completely honest, though, walking into that mess hall was absolutely terrifying. I'm still surprised I managed to talk straight."
Now that was not something I expected to hear. Few admitted to such a failing, especially in front of a subordinate.
"You were scared?"
His expression suddenly opened up, looking almost relieved that someone else had acknowledged it. "I went in there to just get a cup of coffee, and found half of the kansens pointing guns at the other half!" he said in a burst of energy I hadn't seen before. "A part of me wanted to just turn and pretend I didn't see anything. I had no back-up plan for what I was going to do if any one of you pushed back against me."
I wasn't sure what to make of the captain's admission. From the way he phrased it, he made it sound as though he improvised the entire thing. Of course, if he could devise such an approach on the spot, was that not in itself an impressive feat? He appeared so calm and in control back in the mess hall, so it was hard for me to picture him being intimidated by any of us, especially when considering he had been able to stand up to Akagi with such resolve.
I had to ask. "So it was all just an act?"
"Maybe? I never really thought of it like that," he murmured, face twisted as he pondered. "Uncle Harry always said one of the most important parts about leading was to always keep calm in front of the people you're leading. If you show fear, then they'll panic; if you're collected, then they'll believe you're in control of the situation. Whether it's true or not is irrelevant."
"That feels a little dishonest."
He gave a quick shrug as he flipped to the next page in his report. "You were flagship, weren't you? Surely you've been told you had to behave a certain way in front of your subordinates. 'Be strong for the troops' and all that?"
"Thou shalt not smile, for thou must maintain thy dignity." Words from my time as flagship drifted through my thoughts. Indeed, much of those days involved a strict protocol of etiquettes and behaviour on my part, all for the sake of the empire and its future. I never thought of it as dishonest at the time, but upon reflection, it was not so dissimilar to his situation. How many times had I silenced myself because I felt what I wanted to say wasn't befitting of the image of the great battleship Nagato, protector of the sacred sakura tree? It would explain why Mutsu always insisted I needed to be more honest with myself.
"I concede your point, Captain DeWolf," I nodded in agreement. "I was often implored to maintain an air of dignity, albeit for different reasons."
"Do you miss it?" he asked after a momentary pause. "I've known some people who couldn't stand the thought of having their command taken away, even if it meant a promotion."
"I don't know," I said in a noncommittal answer. It was true that I was freed from the burdens of leadership. No longer were there walls of admiration and worship isolating me from the world. I did not resent those constraints, but at the same time I did not grieve for their loss, but while I now had far more freedom than I ever had before, the uncertainty that came along with it left me pining for the days where the biggest worry was making sure I didn't bite my tongue when I addressed the public. It was like being adrift without a map or navigator, a wariness that stemmed from not knowing where to go or even what awaited you when you arrived. Would my fellow Sakurans continue to bow in respect and keep an arm's length like Myoukou had, or would they follow the example of her sister, Ashigara, and embrace the opportunity to understand me better?
Before the conversation could go any further, Montpelier returned, carrying with her a bucket of water and some old rags. With our new orders, the two of us set about wiping down the dusty shelves, drawers, cabinets, and other surfaces of the long-unused office. Since I was the shorter of us, I opted to handle the lower shelves while my partner handled things higher up. The division of labour made for an expedient process, although it would've gone faster if I didn't keep glancing to see what DeWolf was doing. Every time it was the same thing: he was engrossed in reading the reports.
How diligent.
"Hey Captain, what's the deal with the jars anyways?" Montpelier asked out of the blue. Her boldness was so sudden, I almost knocked over the bucket of water. Given what King George V had said, I was hesitant to pry about anything pertaining to his past.
"Mementos," he answered, not batting an eye from his reports. "Places I've been, memories worth saving."
"So why jars?"
"Why not?" he offered with a shrug. "Easy to store, easy to move, and watertight."
"Guess that makes sense. Still seems a little odd if you ask me," she said, indifferent to whatever offense she might cause. "So what's with the bolt in the jar?"
"It's from my first command," he answered, casting a quick glance over to her. "It was part of the salvage recovered from her after we had to run her aground. Also, you should get a stepstool if you're going to try and clean that high up. It's not safe."
Montpelier paid little heed to the advice. "If I can handle a Siren, I think I can handle a shelf," she murmured, more to herself. "What happened to your ship that you had to run it aground?"
"New York happened," he answered bluntly.
Though he did not specify it, from his intonation, I figured he had to be referring to the Siege of New York Harbour, which was one of the largest-scale Siren attacks ever on the Eagle Union mainland. From what I had read, it was a monumental battle that involved hundreds of kansens and warships, and in the end, even though the Sirens were driven off, it left the naval yard almost unusable for months afterwards. While we in the Sakura Empire were uninvolved, as it happened years before the alliance between our factions, we nonetheless heard a lot about it, and the news made huge waves throughout our own military. After all, if the Sirens were willing to strike at a naval base as heavily fortified as New York Harbour, then our own bases were equally at risk. I remembered everyone being put on high alert for weeks afterwards, and the threat was considered serious enough that even I was made ready to sortie at a moment's notice. Nothing came of the threat for the Sakura Empire, and the event itself became something of a reminder that Azur Lane was not invincible. Some people even went so far as to use it as propaganda showing that their methods were weak and inferior to our own, even though every kansen in our fleet knew we would've been just as hard-pressed had the same happened to us.
Now while I regarded the news with near indifference, it was the first thing to really catch Montpelier's attention. Her head swung towards him almost immediately with a faint look of surprise in her eyes. "You were at New York Harbour?" she repeated. "Huh… I wouldn't have expected that. I thought you officer types tried to stay as far away as possible from where the action is."
"I go where I'm told to, same as the rest of you."
The two continued on talking about the New York siege, but as it was a subject that I had nothing to do with, I refrained from paying too much attention to what was being said. It was like a conversation that wasn't meant for me, after all, so even though I was in the same room, eavesdropping felt rude. Instead, I continued wiping down the bookcases, even though Montpelier had become distracted and wasn't being diligent in cleaning the higher shelves. Again, figuring the captain needed all the opportunities he could get to better his standing amongst the kansens, I took matters into my own hands and scaled the bookcase in order to reach the top shelves. As I wiped down the upper-most recesses of the office furnishings, I was quite proud of myself: back in the empire, I would never have troubled myself with trivial matters such as cleaning. There were more than enough servants in the castle and shrine to handle such duties, and everyone would have objected if I tried to help with chores that were outside my duties as a miko.
Dust on the hands of the flagship? It would've been the scandal of the week, whispered throughout the corners of the empire. But here, amongst the many people of the Azur Lane and Crimson Axis, I was just another kansen carrying out their duties.
However, there was a reason we had divided the labour between the high shelves and the low ones. Now I had not thought myself to be too heavy for a simple wooden plank to support, but I hadn't taken into account that putting my weight onto just the front edge would create enough leverage to pop the individual shelf from its mountings. In an instant, my footing fell out from underneath me, and I went tumbling over backwards. My impudence should've been rewarded with a painful landing on hardwood flooring, but instead I fell into the surprisingly soft, but secure, embrace of Captain DeWolf's arms. Somehow he must've reacted at the last second to catch me—a feat that did not go unnoticed by my colleague.
Montpelier gave a quick, sharp whistle. "Nice catch, sir."
"See? I have my uses."
I remained petrified in his embrace, held aloft while clutching at my cleaning rag like a scared child. Once more, the only thoughts that could penetrate the roadblock of my mind were the old teachings. 'Thou shalt not touch a human, for they would tarnish thy divinity,' and there was no mistaking that the captain's hands were very much touching me, with one arm under my back and the other tucked under my knees, his bare hand pressed gently into my skin.
His hands were… quite warm.
Unfortunately, I didn't even have the luxury of stewing in silent embarrassment, as there were soon whisperings and murmurs filling the air. It wasn't any of the three of us, so we naturally turned towards the office door, where, just as King George had mentioned, a group of kansens had gathered to get their first glimpse of the new captain. One did not even need to see the collective look of shock and amazement on their faces to know that seeing the captain holding the former flagship of the Fourth Combined Fleet like a newly-wed bride was the last thing they expected.
Tarnishing my divinity was the least of my concerns.