Chapter Twenty

Thanks to Captain DeWolf's meeting with the senior kansens and the subsequent collaborative efforts that followed, his assumption of command of the naval base had a relatively smooth transition. There was no wide-scale revolt due to interfaction disputes, nor any wide-spread protests as far as I could tell. If there were any misgivings among the kansen, I had not yet heard of any of it. Granted, my time spent in the few days since the dinner meeting have been spent sitting idle around base, I wasn't at liberty to know every grievance that might brew up. Those of us from the Sakura Empire appeared content enough; a number of girls were keen on the opportunity to share mess hall responsibilities, as they wanted to share more of our nation's cuisine with the others.

Plus the Eagle Union-inspired dishes made use of an awful lot of cheese, which didn't sit well with some stomachs in the empire.

From what I had gathered in passing conversations with my fellow Sakurans was that DeWolf's proposals saw a marked increase in training exercises, lectures, drilling, and commission assignments. Apparently, the response from our superiors in almost every nation after reading the reports about the latest Siren raid was that we had 'grown complacent and over-confident', which was an assessment that I had difficulty finding any fault with. We had won against what seemed like a truly staggering foe in the form of Orochi, so naturally there had been a lingering sense of invulnerability with regards to the Sirens. If anything, the raid was a harsh reminder of how dangerous it was to take our enemies lightly.

"Honestly, the captain was wise to implement the changes he did," Choshu said in praise of the new changes. "When I first got a tour of this place, I couldn't believe what I saw. A heated bath house? Swimming pools? Movie theatre? Boutiques? Cake shops? This place is more like a vacation resort than a proper military outfit. Back in my empire, we would've never tolerated this kind of decadence."

Though she wasn't officially part of our faction, Choshu nonetheless opted to take on all the duties and responsibilities that would be required of any Sakuran kansen. Like me, she wasn't the type to sit idle while others continued to work and train. From the whispers I've heard, she has already grown quite popular in our faction, no doubt due to her straight-forward nature and combat prowess. She was like Mikasa, but with more firepower and fewer anachronisms. It'd be a lie to say I wasn't a little envious, but I reminded myself that my temporary internment was for the safety of everyone.

Now despite the new schedule keeping both Choshu and Mutsu busy, today I was fortunate enough to arrange a brief luncheon with them both. I had promised some time ago that I would talk about my troubles with my sister over cake, and so I took the first opportunity I could to fulfill that vow. If nothing else, it got me out of the dorms for a short while.

"While there may be a grain of truth within your words, Choshu, I suspect that they would carry more weight were you not partaking in your second serving of a strawberry shortcake while doing so."

I couldn't blame my colleague for indulging herself; the voyage from the Sakura Empire had us subsisting on basic rations, and while the meals provided by the mess hall were well-made, they did not match the quality of the cakes offered at the base's marketplace. Government-provided meals did mean 'lowest compliant bidder', after all, so while the marketplace shops offered better quality, the cost came straight out of our own purses. The lofty price tags didn't concern me, though, since there wasn't a lot that a kansen could spend their salary on, and it wasn't as if we would eat cake every day.

It was tempting, though.

"Hey, just because I disapprove of their presence doesn't mean I should deprive myself of them," she replied before chomping down on a strawberry. "Besides, I've worked hard since coming here, so I've earned this." She probably felt fine about a second helping since she was not the one who had to pay for the meal. In fairness to her, though, she did leave her wallet in another timeline. "Mm, this is so good. If I'm ever to have a last meal, it needs to be this cake."

"Why would you stop eating after this cake? You'd get hungry by supper," Mutsu asked with a curious stare.

"It was a figure of speech," I informed her.

As the purpose of the whole meeting had been to discuss the troubling dreams with my sister, Choshu and I had explained to her what we had discovered from Dr. DeWolf's examinations, or at least we explained it as best we could without overwhelming her natural curiosity. It was a complex matter even for us, so we had half-expected to spend the next hour under a deluge of questions, yet once we had finished going over the revelations, she fell unusually quiet. In fact, she hadn't said anything until finally voicing her question about the cake, despite the conversation happening back when Choshu had only started her first slice. It was rare to see Mutsu stay silent for so long without someone invoking the 'sit down and shut up' protocols. For a moment, I worried that it had been so complex that her brain just outright rejected it in its entirety, thrown overboard like a defective munition.

"Hey sis," my sister said as she looked to me. "If you're getting Choshu's memories by mistake, you're not going to forget about me, right?"

"No, of course not. I could never forget about you," I reassured her. "You are my precious sister, after all. It would require more than the Sirens could muster to accomplish that."

My sister breathed a heavy sigh of relief, which surprised me as I hadn't considered such an outcome so seriously. She must have been quite troubled about it. "That's a relief. I was worried that if the universe was getting your memories mixed up, then… you'd start getting mixed up about them too. Memories are what make you 'you', after all."

"It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if she started acting a bit more confident and decisive like me," Choshu quipped.

"You take that back. Nagato's perfect just the way she is," Mutsu defended, waving a disapproving fork across the table. While I was in no hurry to drastically change myself, a part of me wouldn't have minded if I could channel some of Choshu's more assertive elements. I was certain if I had been more like her, my tenure as flagship wouldn't have been so lack-luster.

"I was just teasing," she said as she flashed us a smirk. "Since I've been seeing her memories, I can certainly understand why she's as soft as she is. It'd be hard for her to change so drastically."

"I am not soft!" I snapped back.

I had hoped for Mutsu to defend my position as well, but instead she just giggled. "Sure you are. See?" She then reached over and poked me in the cheek. "Hehe, squishy Nagato!"

I couldn't tell if she had genuinely misunderstood the conversation, or was just taking advantage of the opportunity as she continued to prod at my cheek while squealing like an amused schoolgirl. Somehow, I found myself hoping that Choshu would be the voice of reason and stop the silliness from progressing, but instead she just joined in on the antics, and I found myself being poked from both sides.

"Hey, you're right. She really is soft," Choshu teased.

"Is this truly necessary?" I murmured, trying my best to ignore their incessant assaults.

Alas, they ignored me. "It's like poking fresh mochi, isn't it?" Mutsu said. "You should try down here."

Despite trying to brace for it, the sudden jab into the soft part under my ribs elated a startled shriek, followed by a second as Choshu prodded the spot on the opposite side. "W-wait! What are you doing?" I pleaded as they unleashed a flurry of pokes. No part of me was safe: my cheeks, my sides, my armpits, my thighs… where there was soft, tender flesh, so came their devilish intrusions. "S-stop this! P-please! Cease this at once!" My pleas drowned in their giggling, which was soon joined by my own fits of laughter as my ticklish sides overrode my better judgement. Soon I was squirming in my seat, trying to avoid their strikes. "K-Kawa-k-kaze! H-help me!"

My silent, but ever present former bodyguard sat on the opposite side of the table, having been content to drink her tea in silence. I pleaded to her with my eyes as she continued to just sit idle while I was tormented by my sisters. Laughter soon became the only thing that could escape my lungs as their tickling barrage battered me from every angle. It was only after my face had turned beet red and my lungs burned for a breath of air did my silent companion finally set down her cup. She rose from her seat, walked to my side of the table, and shooed the two away.

"Okay, that's quite enough. Don't gang up on her like that," she gently scolded them. Much to the relief of my body and soul, both gave up without a fight.

Drained, but free, I collapsed onto the table, gasping for breath. "Th… thank you…" I said between heavy pants. "I thought they would never cea—EEK!" My gratitude was interrupted by a sudden betrayal, as she took her turn and poked me in my now tenderized side. "Kawakaze?!"

"Huh, it is like mochi," she murmured back. She returned to her seat, leaving the rest of us in a bemused silence for a moment before she answered, "What? I wanted to see what the fuss was all about."

"I pray… that you all… have exhausted your interest… in poking me…"

"That was fun! I haven't seen you laugh that hard in forever," Mutsu beamed. If it had only been her amusement, I would've been okay, but somehow having both Kawakaze and Choshu present made it feel all the more embarrassing. She wasn't wrong, either; the mantra of maintaining a dignified facade extended to the joyful moments as well as the disparaging ones. I couldn't even remember the last time I laughed so much.

"Please, no more. I beg of you," I pleaded with them.

Now feeling more merciful, my sister patted me on the head. "There, there, we won't do that again, but don't you feel a bit better now? I bet the captain would like you even more if you could laugh and smile like that in front of him."

Thankfully, I had been left so flustered that nobody would notice my face heating up again. "W-why would that matter to me?" I replied. "Honestly, why must every discussion broach the matter of the captain and I? I do not understand why you continue to push that line of reasoning upon me."

For a brief instant, my sister looked genuinely perplexed that I couldn't understand something that, to her, must have seemed so obvious. I dare say that she even looked a little hurt that I was so bothered by it. I doubt she had any ill intentions with it, but I worried people would get the wrong impression if the subject kept surfacing. "Well, it's just that you were always so busy being the flagship, it was usually just you, me, and Kawakaze in the palace," she explained, wringing her hands together. "I've always had to push you to talk to others, so I'm just really happy to see you getting along with somebody else without me for a change. You may not notice it yourself, but when you're around him, you just seem so much more lively."

As I expected, she just wanted what was best for me. I was the elder sister and yet she probably did just as much worrying for me as I did for her. "Do I truly come off as that different in his presence?" I asked, wary of what the truth may be. It was hard to say if such differences were due to him, or just the myriad of other changes that had just recently occurred. I, for one, did not feel any different, and if I were behaving strangely, it was only because the circumstances of our encounters made it that way.

Mutsu grinned and nodded. "Same with Choshu. She's made you a lot more lively, I think."

I glanced sideways to my compatriot. It was undeniable that since her arrival, my life had become quite turbulent, and I've found myself behaving in ways I never imagined I would. For good or ill, it has been a learning experience with her.

"I still think you should be careful around him," Kawakaze cautioned. "Although, he's shown himself to be diligent and professional… thus far."

"Speaking of which, I heard from Akagi that you're being considered for the position of secretary ship," Choshu added, swinging the conversation back to a subject that I had wanted to avoid. "You sure do seem to like spending time with him."

I scoffed and folded my arms. "It is a position of administrative duties, nothing more. I was suggested, but it has yet to be ascertained whether the captain even requires such a person. I have sought out nothing, nor have any requests been made official."

"But if it were official, would you want it?" my sister inquired. She brimmed with curiosity once more, which made her bounce in her seat. "You'd get to help with organizing the fleet and stuff. It'd be kinda like back when you were the flagship, right?"

I paused for a moment to consider the possibilities. If it came to be, I'd be involved in the day-to-day operations of the entire base, but unlike my old position where I spent most of my time sealed away from the world, whereas a secretary ship's duties sounded much more involved. I wouldn't, however, be in charge of anything—merely an assistant to the one who was. From what I've seen, Captain DeWolf was not the type of leader to stay at the back and command from behind his desk. With all of that in mind, I still found myself reluctant to be honest with everyone. Would I even be suitable for the job? There was a reason I vouched for Akagi, and I still held the opinion that she would be a better match for the responsibilities.

"I… suppose if I were asked," I answered after a lengthy consideration. "Not that I want the job itself, but it would keep me busy, and from what I understand, it is considered a position of high regard. It would be rude to dishonour such a request with a refusal."

"Plus the two of you would get to spend more time together," Choshu added. Unlike my sister, her words sounded more devious.

Even though I knew she said it to get a reaction, I couldn't avoid flustering a bit. "I would not say I dislike the possibility," I murmured back. She would never stop teasing about the captain, would she? At least as far as problems went, a bit of playful teasing was hardly the worst thing to be saddled with.

With a clink of tin on ceramic, Choshu finished off the last bite of her cake. A contented sigh floated from her smiling visage as she slid the empty plate forward. "Ahhh, now that's what I call a meal fit for a flagship," she proclaimed, followed by a few hearty pats on her stomach. "We must do this again more often, with more company though. Do you think the captain likes sweets?"

"He does not strike me as the type." I didn't know for certain what his preferences were, beyond the time when King George V told me that he liked curries, but I suspected she only asked to try and poke more fun at me, so I decided to shut that line of questioning down as soon as I could. "I presume you must soon be on your way for the gunnery drills?"

Choshu looked skywards for a moment, in order to gauge the approximate time based on the sun's position. "May as well start heading on down to the docks. The training schedule has everyone so busy, they won't want to waste one minute of time on the range."

"Do you find the schedules satisfactory?" She wasn't the first person to tell me that DeWolf's new regime kept them busy, but I had yet to experience it for myself.

She shrugged. "No worse than anything my sister's had to put me through. If she were here, she'd probably call it a half-hearted effort."

The mentioning of her sister brought about its own point of concern for me. The luncheon had a second purpose, but it had been one that I had, admittedly, been dragging my feet on. "Choshu, there is something about your sister I need to discuss with you," I said before what remaining resolve slipped away. An even-handed tone hopefully conveyed that this was not just mere casual conversation.

"Is something wrong?" a puzzled Choshu replied.

Thankfully, serious discussions were something that I had plenty of experience with due to my time as the flagship. Delivering bad news with a gentle touch was at least an area I felt confident in. "Yes, there is. I apologize, for I should have brought this to your attention sooner, but I had struggled to find the right opportunity. I had my suspicions for some time, but it was only until my recent dreams of your memories do I now know for certain: the kansen who attacked our forces, who aligned herself with the Sirens, is most certainly your sister, Mutsu."

Choshu, predictably, stared in stunned silence for a brief, but tense, moment. I worried how she might react, but I knew I couldn't hide from it any longer. I could only pray that she didn't resent me for not telling her sooner.

"Wait, you're saying there's two of me as well?" a worried Mutsu asked. "Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

Finally, my counterpart got past the initial shock. "That can't be right. My sister's gone; I watched her hull sink into the harbour. What you're suggesting is impossible."

"Says the Nagato from an alternate dimension having lunch with a second Nagato," Kawakaze quipped. As blunt as it was, she wasn't inaccurate: the Sirens had more than enough mastery over time and space to make something like 'death' little more than an inconvenience.

"I know this may be difficult to accept, but I know who I saw. I had my suspicions at first, but once I saw your memories of her in my dreams, there was no longer any room for doubt."

"You could've just saw a memory of someone else I knew!"

"Memories carry emotions as well," I reminded her. "Unless there was a second tall, red-haired kansen that you cared about as deeply as you did your sister."

"No, you're wrong!" Choshu shouted, denial now turned to anger. She slammed the table with such force that even the cutlery leapt in fright. "My sister would never side with those monsters! The Eagle Union may have been our enemy, but we all still understood that the Sirens were the true threat to the Empire! She would never stoop to that level!" Like any outburst, though, it was intense, but brief, and it only took a few seconds for that tension to start waning. She had to know I wouldn't lie about this, but clearly it was difficult for her to reconcile what I've said with her own feelings. "Mutsu… she was always the smart one. She would know better than this. This… this has to be wrong, o-or there's something you missed—some ulterior plan of hers. It can't just be as you said. I… I won't accept it!" As her energy turned to wisp and smoke, she gradually sank back into her seat, eyes fixated on the ground as she repeated her last few words over and over, her voice fading further with each iteration.

"For what it is worth, we all hope that you are correct—that this is a misunderstanding, or that there is some ulterior motive at play to explain your sister's behaviour—but we must still be prepared to defend ourselves against her. As our commanding officer, Captain DeWolf needs to be informed of this, but since she is your younger sister, I felt you deserved to know first, and have a say in deciding how we proceed from here."

The shock was still evident in Choshu's wide, but empty, gaze. My heart wept for her. Being privy to her memories, I knew how much her sister meant to her. Even though she wasn't native to this dimension, her sense of duty and obligation to protect the empire and its people was already apparent in how quickly she integrated with the rest of the fleet. She would stand, without hesitation, against anyone who threatened humanity, but I feared that her own sister could present the one glaring exception to that steadfast belief. It was all too reminiscent of what happened near the end of the Orochi project, when it appeared that both Akagi and Kaga had aligned themselves with the Sirens to threaten humanity. Everyone was torn between duty and friendship, but we were fortunate that they refused to give up on saving the wayward First Carrier Division. I prayed that we could reproduce that same spirit.

"Choshu, isn't this good news?" Mutsu asked, shaking her adopted sister back to her senses. "If she's alive again, then we just have to convince her that the Sirens aren't to be trusted, and then she can join us here, too!" Unfortunately, she was the only one who viewed this news with optimism, and it took her a moment to realize that. "This… this is good, right?"

"I don't know," Choshu murmured before rising to her feet. "I… um, I… I need to think this over. Thank you for telling me this, Nagato. When I'm ready, I'll make sure to inform the captain, if that's okay with you."

"I do not wish to rush you, but please understand that time is of the essence, and we would not wish to give Captain DeWolf a false impression that we are being uncooperative," I reminded her.

"I understand. I just need a bit of time to process this. If you'll excuse me, I… I need to take a walk—clear my head."

Choshu didn't even wait for an acknowledgement before she wandered off. Her reaction was understandable, and I wished there was more time available for her to come to terms with this truth, but the Sirens could strike again at any moment, and she'd have to make a decision soon, or it would be forced upon her. My own sister, now fraught with worry, promptly chased after her. With any luck, she would be able to give Choshu the comfort and company she'd need to deal with this news.

While I watched the pair walk away, Kawakaze was able to read my thoughts with but a single look. "You did the right thing," she reassured me. "Better she heard it from you now than discover it in the middle of battle later."

"It does not soften the blow, merely grants her more time to recover from it," I said with a dreary sigh. "Now we must pray that Captain DeWolf will be open to alternative tactics."

While I was confident he was not the type of person to simply order us to eliminate Mutsu with extreme prejudice, I also knew that he was but one officer in a chain of command. He might be willing to give us the chance to 'save' her, but his superiors may demand more of him. At the end of the day, our job was to protect humanity, and if this other Mutsu threatened that, then that threat needed to be neutralized, one way or another. He was going to be in an unenviable position of being stuck between the demands of the admiralty and the kansens, neither of which were known for taking disappointment well. There was also the possibility that my fellow kansens in the other factions would lose their patience having to deal with another wayward Sakuran allying with the Sirens. If Enterprise were conscious, I had little doubt she would support us, and the others would follow suit, but in her absence I could only pin my hopes on the captain's ability to persuade.

"Well, lunch is over. What should we do now?" Kawakaze asked.

"I am still interned, so my schedule is empty," I replied. "Do you not have training obligations to attend to?"

"I told Captain DeWolf that my assignment priority was to you first, so he's kept me off the active duty roster for the time being," she explained.

That was quite considerate of him, I found myself thinking. While I had little to fear anymore from the other kansens, it was nice to still have someone to keep me company. Without her presence, I likely would not have anyone I was comfortable enough turning to, except perhaps the captain himself. And on the subject of DeWolf, I found myself wondering if he was coping with his new workload, now that he had settled into his new position. He didn't have the luxury of being able to take it easy, now that he had tasked himself with updating the protocols and procedures, contend with the new Siren threat, and the unenviable position of playing a neutral party to four naval factions with centuries of rivalries and egos.

"Would you like to go check in on Captain DeWolf?"

In the brief instant after Kawakaze's question, I seriously considered the possibility that she could read my mind. Of course, rather than react in a calm and dignified manner, my startled self just blurted back, "I wasn't thinking about him at all!"

A single, skeptical eyebrow was raised. "Did you know your ears twitch when you're happy?

"T-they do not," I insisted. Just to be on the safe side, I clasped both hands over my head.

"Anyways, shall we go?"

"...yes."

"Listen, it's not that I don't appreciate your concern, Nagato, but are you sure this is appropriate?" Despite Captain DeWolf's initial misgivings, he nonetheless allowed Kawakaze and I access to his office upon our arrival. He didn't say that we were intruding on anything important, but it became apparent that simply 'checking in' on him may have been a social misstep.

"We have no desire to hamper your efforts, sir. If we are interrupting your work, we can leave," I suggested. From where I sat, on the couch in the corner of his office, I thought I was sufficiently 'out of the way', but my presence alone could still be a distraction. Kawakaze may have also been as well, but she stood by the door and hadn't said a word since our arrival. Her years at my side had long since taught her how to remain unobtrusive.

"No, no, it's not that you're interrupting or anything," DeWolf replied, maintaining a firm politeness. "I just don't want people to get the wrong idea if you just spend your day here. This is my office, not a lounge, after all." He gestured to the array of papers and documents laid out on the desk in front of him, making it readily apparent the level of work that already grappled for his attention. "I won't be much of a host right now. There must be far more entertaining company to be found around the base."

"I would not wish to bother people while they are busy with all the new schedule changes," I answered. "Also, I would not know how to behave around them. I am still adjusting to my new status, or rather my lack thereof."

"Hm, I guess I can see how that could be a problem." It was surprisingly refreshing to see him take my concern at face value, rather than spout some platitude about my worries being 'all in my head', even if the more logical part of me knew that was the case. "If you don't mind being put to work, I can find something around here that you can help with. Are you sure, though? Paperwork can be pretty dull."

"I was once the flagship of the Fourth Combined Fleet, I am no stranger to the tedium of administrative duties."

"Point noted." He gestured for me to join him at his desk, and I peered over his shoulder at the assortment of papers and documents he had spread across the work surface. "Here, how about you take these expense reports. I need the monthly costs tabulated and calculated for a yearly item-by-item expenditure list going back at least five years."

The stack of papers he handed me was almost an inch thick, and sadly they were not typed out in big block letters and double-line spacing like a high schooler trying to fill out the page requirements of an essay. No, they were small letters, crammed together on both sides of the page as if trees were about to go extinct. I began to understand why the captain had been hesitant to let me get involved, but also why Enterprise so desperately needed the extra help. Even a cursory glance at the dates on the top of the pages revealed that a negligence towards diligent filing of paperwork was a common attitude at this port.

"Let me just grab a pencil and some paper, then, and I shall…" A second quick glance over the extent of the paperwork involved made it abundantly clear that this was not a task that could be managed solely by a pencil and raw mental power. "Do you have a calculator that I could borrow, sir?"

"Here, just use the laptop. You can use the spreadsheet program to enter the data as well," he offered.

The aforementioned computer sat just off to the side until he slid it over to me. As I pulled over a chair and took a seat next to the captain, I realized that a new obstacle stood in my path. While I wasn't as antiquated as certain battleships like Mikasa, my familiarity with certain technologies was limited, at best. My normal duties made little use of things like computers, so when faced with the task of now using one, I could only just stare blankly at the glowing screen, wondering what even a spreadsheet was, let alone how to create one. Before I could say anything, though, Kawakaze pulled up a second chair just beside me.

"Pay attention, I'll teach you."

"T… thank you," I murmured back, embarrassed that my offer of help only resulted in me getting helped in turn.

Thankfully, though I was rather ignorant about computers, that didn't mean I was incapable of learning how. Thanks to my friend's efforts, it only took a little under an hour before I was comfortable enough to take the helm with her observing over my shoulder. I was still only making slow progress through my work, in no small part due to the slow pecking that was my typewriting skills. Tabulating the port expenses gave me some insight into how the facility ran: compared to financial reports back in the Sakura Empire, this port alone appeared to operate on another level altogether. A lot of it was also going unused as it still had vast sums flagged for research and development that hadn't been happening for some time. Somehow this had gone unnoticed for some years, but it would explain how they managed to fund the construction of the bathhouse without anyone kicking up a fuss. It would likely take me most of the day to get through all of the budget reports, but that didn't bother me. For the first time in quite a few days, I felt… useful again, even if just for one afternoon.

"My goodness, no wonder Enterprise asked for help," I said with a tired groan. After a couple hours of working, my body became as stiff as a mizzenmast: sitting in an office chair was not something I was accustomed to. As I stretched out, I let out an all-consuming yawn. "Fwah! Kawakaze, might I trouble you to fetch me some tea? I feel I need something to help me stay focused."

"I'll go check the mess hall and see what they have."

As Kawakaze got up to leave, the captain spoke up as well. "Do you think you could grab me a cuppa, too?"

Now I knew my friend had her apprehensions about Captain DeWolf, especially in regards to our working relationship, but she stopped in the doorway and just stared at him with the kind of contemptful, piercing gaze like she was staring down a very large cockroach. "And who broke your legs?" she replied in a tone so cold it even sent shivers down my back.

Her departure left an understandably awkward silence in its wake. Fearing reprisal, I turned to the captain in haste. "I am certain she did not mean it personally, sir."

"I don't think she likes me very much."

"Kawakaze is just the type who is slow to warm up to other people," I insisted, even though I didn't know for certain. "Give her time, and she will come around."

DeWolf settled back into his seat, and a brief smirk curled at the corner of his lip. "Well, King George V wasn't much different when we first met. She wasn't too fond of the 'uppity little colonial junior officer'."

Knowing how friendly and charismatic the famed Royal Navy battleship could be, I had trouble picturing her disliking somebody like DeWolf. "Did you do something in particular to upset her?"

"Nah, it was just… ego and pride, and people fussing over things that seemed important at the time."

"I pray that you will have few other detractors, and that Kawakaze changes her mind in due time."

"If only I could be so lucky."

It came as little surprise to the captain, then, when at that exact moment, the door slammed open, and in stormed an exceptionally irate Akagi. I always knew her to be one to keep her emotions in check, so to see her so visibly disturbed, as if someone had just slammed a door on her tail, came as a shock to me. For his part, DeWolf maintained a calm facade, and it didn't escape my notice that my colleague stopped just out of arm's reach at the desk. There would be no repeat of their previous encounter.

"Captain DeWolf, you will explain this… this insult to me at once!" she shouted before slamming a paper down on the desk with enough force to threaten a palm-shaped indent. When she noticed that I sat right next to him, a polite but forced smile flashed across her facade. "Ah, good afternoon Lady Nagato. I hadn't realized the captain had company."

"I am simply helping the captain with some documents," I answered.

"And please don't break my desk," DeWolf deadpanned in response. He had seen her angry once before, so at least he knew what to expect. "Now why don't you have a seat, and tell me what's bothering you."

DeWolf gestured to a nearby empty chair, and while Akagi made a show of pouting at the asymmetrical reaction to her offense, she eventually sat down. "Your new scheduling has me listed as a participant in a joint carrier exercise," she explained as she slid the paper across the desk. "A participant? I am the Kido Butai. We wrote the book on naval aviation tactics while the rest of the world was still figuring out which was the business end of an air-dropped torpedo. If anyone should be teaching others the true terror of air superiority, it should be me, and not this infantile, pink-haired gremlin."

"I don't think Saratoga would appreciate being described like that," DeWolf answered. "Plus, it wouldn't be such a bad idea for you to learn a thing or two from the Eagle Union carriers. Just because you're one of the empire's best, doesn't mean you don't have areas you could improve on."

"What did you just say?!" she snapped back.

"Ah, well—" DeWolf froze for an instant, and I recalled how he described his worries during the mess hall incident, how he wasn't sure what he'd do if somebody pushed back.

Granted, Akagi didn't give him much of a chance to recover, as she quickly went on explaining how she was 'obviously' more qualified on all matters related to naval aviation. In the meantime, I helped myself to the piece of paper in question and looked over the offending part. The exercise was listed as 'Carrier fleet operations 101: a joint exercise, led by Sister Sara' followed by a few heart symbols and a smiley face that I was certain was not standard regulation for military paperwork. From the looks of it, the exercise consisted of multiple sessions both academic and practical spread over several days, and covered a number of subjects from combat air patrols and escort formations, to strike formations and multi-carrier operations. It looked to be very thorough, indeed, and while I knew little about naval aviation, being a battleship and all, I was hard-pressed to see what was necessarily so offensive about this beyond pride and ego. Then again, Akagi had ample amounts of both, and the Sakura Empire's tendency to revere its more seasoned kansens only amplified that.

"Pardon me," I spoke up, interrupting the two. While I wasn't worried that a heated argument would break out, I was nonetheless compelled to act before she got too worked up. "May I have a few words with you, Akagi?"

Not used to having her incensed tirades interrupted, it took her a moment of visible effort to force a polite smile back onto her face, if only just barely constrained. "And what is your wisdom, Lady Nagato?"

"The captain is not wrong: there is always room to learn and improve."

"But Nagato—"

"Nobody is questioning your abilities or your accomplishments, Akagi," I pressed on despite her attempt to interject. "You are a shining beacon for the empire, and few have worked harder for its sake than you. That is why we continue to ask that you please continue your training—learn and grow stronger so that you may better serve our people." Before she could respond, though, I pivoted to the captain. "And Captain DeWolf, would I be correct in stating that this exercise program was approved and developed well before our arrival?"

He nodded. "Enterprise approved it about a month ago. It was originally just a Royal Navy and Eagle Union joint exercise, but I asked Saratoga if she could include people from the Crimson Axis as well. Regardless of what Akagi says about her, she's one of the Eagle Union's most experienced carriers. She knows her stuff, even if she occasionally delivers it via song and dance."

"In that case, for the sake of fairness, Akagi should be allowed the opportunity to organize her own exercise series afterwards, so that the carriers of Azur Lane could learn from the wisdom of the Sakura Empire's carrier tactics and techniques. You cannot deny that there are few in the world that could quickly launch as large and coordinated an airstrike as the First Carrier Division."

The captain leaned back in his seat and glanced over to Akagi, who thankfully looked a bit calmer now that I appeared to be mediating the discussion. "I suppose that's not a bad idea. It had crossed my mind, but I was going to visit the issue after we got some feedback on Saratoga's lessons. However, if Akagi wants to get a headstart on it, she's welcome to submit a proposal."

Now we both looked to her with the lingering hopes that this compromise was enough to placate her pride. Judging by the more sincere-looking smile on her lips, she liked the idea of being able to champion the virtues of our aviation tactics to Azur Lane. I could already see the glint in her eyes of a cunning mind hard at work. "So if I were to have this opportunity, I'd be free to run this exercise however I see fit? Train them as I would my juniors back in the empire?"

"Within reason," a cautious DeWolf answered.

An unsettling chuckle floated from Akagi's lips as she rose from her seat. "In that case, I look forward to it," she answered. "The captain is wise to have Nagato serve at his side. I hope you continue to heed her counsel in the future."

"Oh, no, this is merely a temporary arrangement," I tried to insist, but I fear my words went unheeded.

She left with a new bounce in her step and a sway in her tails, which one could take as a small victory, if a little worrying. And I was not the only one who felt that, as DeWolf let out a tired, exasperated sigh once the office door closed. Akagi could be a tough teacher, but she knew how to push her students to achieve their best, and we had the rest of the Kido Butai to attest to her tutelage. Her training always bore fruit, except for that one time we found Shoukaku curled up in the corner of the dorms muttering 'bad senpai' to herself over and over again.

"Is she always this much of a handful?" he asked.

"You were able to rebuke her quite effectively when you two met." I was reminded of one of their first conversations, where DeWolf shut down her advances with a stern 'stick to being an aircraft carrier'. Back then, it appeared that he would be otherwise immune to Akagi's particular charms, and now that I knew what she was after, her actions then made all the more sense. "You are fortunate that she likes you, but she will test your boundaries. If she senses weakness, she will walk all over you. Be firm and resolute, and she will respect your decisions."

"I'll… uh, keep that in mind…" he murmured back, sounding a little embarrassed. "I guess it was just easier back then because I wasn't in a good mindset, and she just came off as so insincere, it was easy to fall back on training." His reasoning made sense as I recalled how his brother described him—a quiet man who worked better in the rigid and predictable hierarchy of the military.

"Training?" I asked, curious as to what that entailed for human officers. As kansens, we were taught to always respect their authority, even if that didn't always translate into practice, so I was interested to hear what the reverse was.

He shrugged. "Nothing outrageous: just the usual suggestions to refrain from getting too close or familiar with kansens. The top brass probably worry that since you're all women, we might become too easily attached and it would cloud our judgment when it comes time for battle. It's very old fashioned thinking, if you ask me; if you were all men, they wouldn't be so wary."

From a logic standpoint, it didn't sound unreasonable. He was our commander, after all, and he would be expected to send us into dangerous situations, sometimes with the absolute certainty that people won't come back. It was an unenviable burden, to have to knowingly order a person to their death, but hadn't that always been the case in war? Kansens were never taught to keep a healthy distance from one another; if anything, in the Sakura Empire, we were taught to form as close bonds as possible, for through unity and harmony did we draw our greatest strength. Mikasa, for example, was a great leader in her time, and nobody would ever accuse her of being cold or distant.

"Do you believe that to be the correct approach?" I inquired.

He sighed, taking a moment to scratch his head and collect his thoughts. "I don't know, really. I've seen the merit to their reasoning, but…" He fell silent for a minute, a solemn look in his eyes as he glanced at his papers. "The best CO I ever met didn't believe in that. Everybody adorned her, human or kansen. They would always give their best and then some, all for her sake."

I had a feeling I knew who he was referring to, but since King George V warned against the subject, I had to keep my curiosity in check. "It sounds like you really admire this officer."

"It was hard not to. Still, I don't know if I can ever be like her. It might be easier for me to just have your respect. I don't know if I can handle 'like'."

Wanting to reassure him, or even give him a boost of confidence, I should've said something along the lines of, "Just do what you feel is right, and let them decide how they feel about you." Instead, I just muttered a quick and ill-thought out, "Well, I still like you."

The room went dead silent immediately. Did I really just say that? With words? Out loud? I found myself looking to the exits and seriously considering how safe it would be to fling myself out the window before DeWolf realized what I had uttered. It wasn't that I didn't mean it, but there were obvious implications about those particular words, and I didn't want to give him the wrong idea about how I felt.

"As an officer!" I blurted out, opting to follow the adage that the best defense was a good offense. "I admire your… uh, work ethics. And you were commendable in handling the mess hall crisis. O-obviously, that is all I meant by that. As you know, english is not my primary language, so I can confuse my words at times."

"Right, of course that's what you meant," he agreed, sounding just as desperate to get away from that minefield of conversation.

By the mercy of the gods and heaven, a knock at the door provided a timely intervention and distraction. Any longer and I was certain that my head would catch fire from how flustered I was. With the captain's prompt beckoning, the door opened and an Eagle Union kansen shuffled in. Like many girls from her faction, she was tall and flashy, and in my opinion exposed way too much skin with her open coat and short skirt.

"Ah, hello Captain DeWolf! I don't know if we've been introduced, but my name's Portland, of the Portland-class cruisers," she introduced herself.

Relieved the conversation didn't start with somebody slamming his desk, DeWolf put on a reassuring air. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Portland. Is there something you need?"

I noticed she had a familiar set of schedule papers in her hands, and no doubt the captain saw them as well. Portland dropped into her seat, her hands clutching onto the papers tight. "You see, it's about my little sister's training schedule. My sister's Indy, by the way. I mean, her name's Indianapolis, but Indy is her nickname. She's super duper cute, and—oh hey, do you want to see a picture of her?" Before either of us could answer, she pulled a photo from inside her coat and showed it to us. The silver-haired, tanned girl in the image must have been the Indianapolis she mentioned, and while I could agree that her sister was cute, I questioned the appropriateness of taking pictures of one's sister while they were asleep. It seemed like an invasion of privacy.

Besides, Mutsu was a far cuter little sister.

"Oh, and here's a picture of Indy eating some watermelon. And here's one of her at the beach! And this one is when Indy lost her pant—"

"Getting a little side-tracked there, Portland," DeWolf was quick to interject. As much as her presence offered a welcomed distraction from the previous awkwardness, that didn't mean we needed a slideshow of Indianapolis' daily life. "You mentioned something about an issue with her schedule?"

"Oh, right! Sorry, sir! I just get so carried away whenever it comes to Indy," the embarrassed cruiser replied. She set the papers down, thankfully without any slamming involved, and slid them across. A number of distinct red circles could be seen littering the document, but at a quick glance, I could not see what the issue was: they appeared to be just various training sessions, drills, duty shifts, and even a few periods of just free time that were the source of her concern. "There must've been a big mistake when you were making the new schedules, because mine and Indy's don't match up at all! See all these ones I circled? I'm not in them. Indy will be all alone, and she gets really anxious when I'm not around. She gets so shy that I can't help but worry about her!"

Hearing her concerns reminded me of my own sister. She didn't fret as openly, but Mutsu definitely worried about how well I could fit in with others, especially when she's not around. It was hard to fault her for doing what any dutiful older sister would do, but I trusted that if Captain DeWolf separated the two of them, then it was either with good reason, or simply an unintended consequence. He would not be so cruel as to separate people just to upset them.

"I know you and your sister are close—if a little bit one-sided—but you have to remember that these schedules are to help bring the whole fleet together," DeWolf reasoned with her. "Both of you need to learn how to work with other kansens, and I know it can be tough, but it'll get easier with time. You might even come to discover things about yourself you weren't even aware of."

It was a reasonable argument from the captain, but when a person carried around that many candid pictures of their sister, it wasn't unsurprising that they held a different idea of what counted as 'reasonable'. "But you don't understand, captain!" she exclaimed, holding up a new photo that featured both her and her sister in a tight embrace, although the expression on the younger sister resembled more of an annoyed cat than an affectionate sibling. "We've always been together, and I've always had to look out for her. Indy needs me. I know if she were here, she'd be telling you the exact same thing. And you can't say no to a face this cute! You wouldn't be that heartless, would you?"

Displaying the same level of respect for personal space, Portland practically shoved the photo into DeWolf's face, and it was only through quick reflexes that he avoided getting hit in the nose by her enthusiasm.

"Listen, it wouldn't hurt to at least try it out for a few days. We'll be taking feedback for the next few weeks while we fine tune things, so—"

"But I need her! I need her, or I'll explode!"

DeWolf cocked an eyebrow, clearly unsure how to respond. "Please don't explode?" he replied.

Fearing that she would just run rampant talking over the captain, I decided to try my hand at diplomacy. "Miss Portland, I understand the position you speak from, as I have a younger sister myself."

"And you'd do anything to take care of them, right?" Portland shot back, eager to capitalize on the potential alliance.

I nodded slowly. "Although in my case, it was I who was often reliant upon her. My duties as flagship often kept me busy, and she would endeavour to ensure I slept and ate properly, and that I took care of my personal grooming. Lately, though, what has made her happiest has been seeing me bond with other people, because as much as she cares for me, she knows that she cannot always be there, and the last thing she wants is for me to be lonely."

Somehow, my words managed to bring her endless train of thought to a screeching halt. There was a wide-eyed look of surprise, as though she only just realized that there could be such a thing as being too loving of a sibling, although I suspected that wasn't the conclusion she came to. "So you're saying… if I really want Indy to be happy and not lonely, I have to leave her alone?" Her confusion was still quite evident, but one could see the truth slowly coming to fruition. "I hadn't thought about it like that before. If I'm hogging Indy all to myself, then how will everyone else get a chance to understand how cute she is?"

"That is not an accurate account of what I had said..."

Before I could say anything else, my eyes caught a flicker of movement from the doorway just past the kansen. My view was somewhat obstructed, but I could make out a set of tall horns and silver hair.

"Portland? I thought I asked you not to bother the captain." Since I had just seen pictures of her, I recognized the girl that just entered the office was Indianapolis. Even in person, I didn't think she was half as cute as my Mutsu. It was hard to tell if the younger sister was upset or not; her voice lacked affect, and her expression was just as nonexistent.

With a sudden surge of enthusiasm, Portland swung to her sister and took hold of her hands. "It's gonna be okay, Indy!" she exclaimed, eyes beaming. "I know it might be a little scary at first, but I know you can do it! You can make as many friends as you want, and your big sister will always be ready to cheer you on!"

Judging by the 'deer in headlights' stare, Indianapolis was taken by surprise by the sudden declaration. "I… uh, okay then," she murmured back. She glanced at the captain and I for a second, then a faint tinge of red began to appear on her cheeks. I began to feel like we were intruding on them. "We should go, sis. The others will start to wonder where we are."

The two were about to leave, but then Indianapolis stopped and whispered something to her sister, which prompted only the older one to leave the office. Now alone, she approached the desk again. "I'm sorry if my sister caused you any trouble, sir," she said, head bowed in deference. "If it's not too much of a selfish request, though, could you make sure Portland is teamed up with good people? I know she can be a little… strange, but she's not bad. She spends so much time doting on me that she keeps forgetting to take care of herself."

DeWolf gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll make sure she's teamed with people she can rely on."

"Thank you, sir." Despite her flattened affect, I could still sense the sincerity in her words. No sooner did she step out of the office did her older sister jump out and cling to her arm like a stubborn, but loving, barnacle.

"Those two are a lot alike," I remarked as we watched them leave.

Looking relieved, DeWolf replied, "You handled both of those a lot better than I did."

"I only tried to convey the sentiments that I figured you were attempting to," I replied, not wanting to let his praise go to my head. I had to admit, though, it felt nice to be recognized. "Sometimes a person does not need to hear the words of an officer: sometimes they need the words of a friend, or an equal who understands."

"True," he answered with a nod. "I guess it's just hard to explain that I was separating the two of them because Portland performs better overall when she's not in the same fleet as Indianapolis."

"Really?"

He reached past me and grabbed the laptop that I had been using. With a few taps of the keys, a number of graphs and charts began to decorate the screen. There was a lot of data to take in, but DeWolf directed my attention to the key point he wanted to make. "Take a look at these scores. The red lines are Portland's individual testing scores, and the green lines are the overall scores for her fleet."

"It would appear that… she individually performs better when alongside her sister, but the team scores are worse than when she's not." I had no idea that DeWolf had been analyzing kansen performance data to such a degree, and to spot such a peculiar trend in the data was a feat in itself.

"Believe it or not, but Portland scores high in her aptitude tests for leadership and tactical planning. When she's with her sister, she fights harder for her, but at the same time she forgets about the rest of her team. That's not to say she doesn't perform well—Portland and Indianapolis are both very capable—but the traits for a good fleet leader are harder to come by."

I knew DeWolf had made significant changes to how the daily training exercises and drills were managed, but I hadn't imagined that he had put so much thought and study into it. He would've had to have buried himself in test results and combat reports to draw these conclusions. Once again, I began to understand why he was chosen for this assignment, and it wasn't something so trivial as being 'inoffensive'. Portland wasn't even the only kansen he had flagged for special considerations, as he had notes on suggestions for at least a dozen other possible combinations, ranging from 'excellent instructor, team with other destroyers' and 'limited anti-air, ensure adequate escorts' to 'gets nervous without other cruisers' and 'prefers working in smaller groups'. He was taking both combat capabilities and personal preferences into consideration.

"May I ask what else has your research shown?" I asked, curious to see how else the data has influenced his changes.

"Take a look for yourself," he replied, almost proudly now. A few more taps on the laptop revealed more charts and tables. "When I reviewed the records, one thing I noticed was that, when left to your own discretion, kansens had a habit of sticking to their own camps. Which isn't bad, mind you, but part of the reason for the troubles in the Siren raid was because people weren't comfortable fighting in close units with other factions. I want you girls to learn more from one another, and hopefully stop thinking of each other as 'Royal Navy' and 'Iron Blood' and just… you know, other kansens. Imagine how much more we could accomplish if we got past all the posturing and infighting."

"Quite the noble sentiment, captain." If Kawakaze were here, she'd call him a fool for sure.

"Can't take credit for it. I learned that from a much better officer than me."

"I would like to see more of your changes."

DeWolf obliged, and I scooted a bit closer so that I could see the paperwork as he showed me some of the other changes he was trying to implement. As it turned out, while I was toiling away on expense reports, he had been fine-tuning the training and exercise schedules for the next few weeks. As he said, he wanted the kansens to have more experience working and training alongside those from different camps. Though we were all shaped by the collective memories of humanity, those memories are nonetheless filtered through their respective people and nations. One group's heroic triumph was another's bitter defeat. Perspective, he explained, was always a key component to understanding. He cited Akagi as a prime example: for us in the empire, she was revered and respected for her accomplishments and battle prowess. In the Eagle Union, however, she was viewed in far less charitable terms, and while I might disagree with some of their assertions, neither side was technically wrong. If people in Azur Lane were ever to understand the Akagi that we knew—the tireless warrior who always strove to protect those she cared about—they'd need to spend more time with her on equal footing. They would need to see the side of Akagi that I and the others in the Sakura Empire got to experience every day before they could truly come to trust her as an ally.

For a man who was only brought in to handle administrative duties, he had a lot of ambitions for the fleet. Maybe these were related to those 'big dreams' that his brother spoke of.

"So you have been tailoring these training units to help the others reach their full potential," I said, after we had thoroughly reviewed his notes and proposals. There was one matter I was curious about, far too much to keep the question to myself. "Do you… have any special considerations for me?"

"Not really, actually," he replied, albeit a bit too bluntly.

"O-oh. I understand then." I wasn't sure why that was disappointing to hear. Perhaps I had just hoped, with all the care and consideration that he had given to so many other kansens at the port, there might have been something special about me to make note of. It appeared that even the prestige of the Fourth Combined Fleet wasn't enough to grant me notoriety.

"I already know you're a capable leader," he continued on, sensing my disappointment and seeking to correct it. "Half a canteen was prepared to start a new Pacific war just to protect you, but outside of that… I just don't know enough about you. Intel files on you are a bit sparse."

Upon reflection, that was likely due to how little I've done outside of my duties as flagship, much of which was spent in the home port. Compared to someone like Akagi, my combat record was almost non-existent, so it made sense that Azur Lane wouldn't have been able to offer DeWolf much to prepare with.

"In that case, it would be fruitful for the two of us to spend more time together?" I suggested, although only a second later I realized that my words could've been misinterpreted. "In a purely professional context, of course."

Pausing to consider his options, his eyes soon fell upon all of the paperwork that we had succeeded in ignoring because we spent most of the afternoon talking about training schedules and fleet arrangements. "Well, if you're not busy tomorrow, you could swing by the office again. I'll probably need some help clearing this paperwork, and just in case any other kansens have problems with the scheduling. Think you would be interested?"

I had been confined to port and restricted from my powers as a kansen, so it wasn't an overstatement that I had literally nothing to look forward to other than loafing around. Others might have enjoyed the prospect of lazy days, but with everyone else busy, I had nothing but boredom to look forward to. An immediate 'yes' would've come off as a little too desperate, so I had to make a show that I was considering my options, weighing the pros and cons. To be too eager would be undignified, so I had to remain calm and composed.

"If that is your wish, then our interests are in concordance," I answered, polite and dignified.

DeWolf just nodded in agreement, although something caught his attention as his eyes panned upwards to just above my head. "Are you okay? Your ears started twitching a lot."

My hands, moving entirely on their own, clamped down atop of my head. "T-that means nothing," I hastily insisted. "J-just an itch."

Great. Now I was going to be conscious of my ears whenever I talk with him.