"I have news."
"The obvious question is whether or not they're good news or bad news. I'm betting on bad."
"Well, you'd be wrong. It's good news. It turns out that your candidate has been bringing in results."
"Oh?"
"Oh, indeed. Not a single loss under his belt so far. Quite a consistent one, he is."
"Yeah, he was easily top of his class. The other issues, though…"
"They haven't reared their head at all."
"That's your gamble. I give you the odds, you do the bets."
"I think I'm confident in my choice."
"Very well. Whatever happened to you rejecting it initially?"
"Upon testing, he's been more than adequate. Abilities cannot be accurately measured in a vacuum. People lie, and most often to themselves. So you mix them in with other stimulated factors. Stress. Pressure. Rewards. It so happens we were at our limit and happened to guess. And guess what? We were lucky."
"I must fundamentally disagree with gambling everything on chance."
"Chance is always a factor. Yes, every single variable in the world can be measured to a certain degree, and a call can be made which is more likely to happen. But you can measure the distance and mass, take psychological evaluations and blood work, agonize over the direction of the wind and cloud cover, and you'd still be wrong."
"Better than chance, I'd say."
"If you can freeze time, let me know. We can then spend eternity over every minor decision and weigh every single consequence together without time constraints."
"You're misconstruing me. I just don't want you flipping a coin with world-endangering decisions."
"Haha. I either guess right or guess wrong. Fifty-fifty chance."
"And all the seriousness of the argument has been thrown out the window. You're infuriating."
"Right back at you, fella. You're too serious."
—
The commander blinked awake at the crack of 4 AM. The room and the bit of skylight were still dark as midnight. Despite this, he groaned and stared at the ceiling. Not because he was an early riser, but because he knew that it was pointless trying to go back to sleep. His mind was always running on jet speed whenever he woke. The tiredness from getting only four hours of sleep would take its toll around the afternoon. Like it always does.
That was the norm for his sleep schedule. Get inadequate sleep at night, then have a throbbing headache and heavy eyebags throughout the day until he passed out mid-afternoon. And then after a three hour nap, he'd be completely incapable of going to bed at a reasonable time.
Some might joke that he was making value of getting two days in one, but to be quite frank, the two-half days barely added up to a complete one.
This morning, his mind was full of scenarios from yesterday. Akagi, Kaga, and Tirpitz. In that order.
Why couldn't life be simple? Misunderstandings upon misunderstandings, pride and self-interest. He considered letting the entire matter with Akagi and Kaga die out over time. All things heal over time, right? Was that how the saying went?
Besides, the flames of yesterday had puffed out overnight. Easily, the entire matter with Tirpitz could be dropped. It wasn't his job to interfere. Just as he didn't want nosy people in his business, he could apply the same philosophy to Bismarck and Tirpitz. It'd just cause a messy headache for everyone involved. Doubly so, because Bismarck was the de facto leader of Iron Blood. No, he didn't want an entire country's fleet to fall into disarray by his hands. His job was to command. To move little icons around in a holographic field like pieces on a chessboard.
But in his head, he knew that wasn't quite right. It'd been an entire day and Akagi hadn't shown herself. Kaga might still be after his head after learning everything. And Tirpitz was still living in another galaxy. If it were up to him, he'd leave it be. Let things resolve eventually.
Then he could see everyone's expressions in his head. The pursed lips from those in the Royal Navy. The narrowed gazes from the Sakura Empire. And the unending whispers which got inside of his head no matter how much he covered his ears. It was killing him, and more importantly, killing his pride. And if nothing else, it was for his pride.
He checked the time again. Six thirty. Time to get up.
—
Skirmish at morning again. The enemy surrounded and quashed. He wondered why the Sirens never got any better with their own strategies. It was like running circles around a quadraplegic. Entertaining? To some very few disturbed individuals, yes. But there was no sport to it. Like doing chores. Like punting a hamster. Like playing chess against a child with no arms and winning by time. And repeating "Make your move" over and over again to the tearful kid, who cannot do anything.
At least it gave him some sort of grim satisfaction by taking his frustrations out on something else, rather than someone else.
At breakfast, there was no Akagi and no Kaga. Tirpitz was absent from what he could see, but Tirpitz also had the uncanny ability to blend into crowds with ease. Bismarck was seated with her fellow Iron Blood ships, watching over them and answering a few questions but remaining generally silent. A certain blue haired submarine was getting all excitable and Bismarck had to tell her several times to quiet down. She would, but then forget a few minutes later. And the cycle would repeat. But Bismarck didn't seem too unhappy about this arrangement.
The commander wasn't fond of making his usual table fall silent as a funeral, so he headed over to the now-empty table of Tirpitz. His plan was to think about how to approach Akagi and Kaga to apologize. Instead, someone came over and plunked her tray right in front of him. And two seconds later, another tray fell into place next to him.
Both people paused to size up the other newcomer. The commander was mildly annoyed with being disturbed. Why did everyone have to intrude during meals? Did they not know where his office was?
In any case, the person who sat across from him had the very noticeable animal ears of the Sakura Empire. She had one of those robes — was it called a kimono? — and had an air of serenity and maturity. The commander, looking to his right, was shocked to see Z23 next to him, sizing up the newcomer.
The tension made him uncomfortable, so he ventured with a tentative "can I help you two?"
It seemed to have worked, seeing how they blinked and turned away from each other and onto him. Of course, this was also unwelcome, but was far better than the alternative.
The elder ship cleared her throat. "Greetings, Shikikan. My name is Amagi. I'm the older sister of Akagi and Kaga."
That alone made his shoulders tense up. Another one? How many more?
Apparently his discomfort was painfully obvious to Amagi, because she tittered behind her hand. "Please, Shikikan. I'm not looking for more trouble."
Clearly, he didn't believe her, because his shoulders were still in that locked position of defense. She sighed.
Amagi put down her little umbrella?/parasol? on the table and clasped her hands together on the table. "I'd like to begin by apologizing on behalf of Akagi and Kaga."
The commander tilted his head ever so slightly.
She continued, "Akagi and Kaga have been so headstrong all their lives. When I wasn't available, they both had to make tough decisions. And they had only themselves to rely on. Please excuse them for their indiscretions."
He felt a sense of immeasurable relief. At last, someone who didn't immediately throw him to the wolves over some minutiae that happened in the past. "I was planning on doing so personally. This entire affair has been eating at me the entire time. And apparently, the entire combined fleet as well." He looked up and made an unnecessary gesture to all the tables around him. The few who were caught looking at their table jerked their heads in some other direction. Amagi looked on with bemusement.
"Thank you, Shikikan. I appreciate it," she said, smiling. Then she broke into a coughing fit.
He stood up immediately, concerned. She brushed him off, and eventually the coughing ceased. She wiped her mouth with a napkin, and he slowly took his seat again, uneasy.
"It's always been like this," she said. "I've always been a little sickly. Nothing to really worry about, as long as I don't strain myself."
He paused at that. Since when were kansen chronically ill? Sure, some were a little neurotic, but being physically ill? That threw him for a loop.
She seemed to have read his mind. "Yes, some of us weren't constructed properly due to time constraints. It is how it is. I take on the role of a strategist rather than a fighter these days. Although, with you, I've been lacking a role recently."
"Uh…" He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.
She smiled. "It keeps me at ease knowing that my sisters are in capable hands. Thank you for all your hard work, Shikikan. On behalf of the Sakura Empire, I thank you for your service."
The glowing praise made him feel equal parts uncomfortable and happy. But the positive parts eventually won out, and he allowed a small smile of his own.
That's right. Even if everything else went wrong, he could always default back to his comfort zone. As long as he had his sound mind, everything else would follow. He didn't particularly enjoy it, but as long as he was capable, it would all work out.
Amagi then picked up her now-empty tray. "I'll see you outside, Shikikan, once you're finished." She left, and it took a moment for him to realize he'd hardly touched his food at all. He began digging in until he realized there was another occupant at the table. He turned to see that Z23 had a large pout on her face after being ignored for such an extended period of time.
She tugged at his sleeve. "Kommandant, did you forget I was here?"
Even if he didn't want to admit it, the expression on his face said it all.
She sighed. "We were all worried about you. When you sat down at this table, away from us, we weren't sure what to do. And you didn't come to our table at breakfast either."
"Well… I figured that my presence was making all of you uncomfortable. You guys didn't say anything while I was there, so I figured I'd take some alone time." He turned to look at their original table. It was empty. "Where are they now?"
Z23 looked down. "Laffey sometimes sleeps past breakfast, Ayanami already finished, and Javelin's hanging out with some of her buddies in the Royal Navy."
He felt bad for shaking up their unbreakable friendship just by disappearing. "Sorry about that."
She waved her hands apologetically. "No, no, it's fine. We all have those off days. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
He smiled. "Thanks, Z23." She smiled back.
Perhaps it wasn't all that bad. Z23 was here, actively watching after him. He didn't deserve all this attention. He sat there because Laffey had beckoned him over on the first day, and stayed there because he was a creature of habit. He never did attempt to make conversation with them. Just listened. But here she was. Sitting away from her friends for the sole purpose of checking up on him. Whatever happened to Iron Blood being the pinnacle of strength and self? The spirit wasn't apparent to him for Z23, but he was happy that she deviated from the norm. It was nice.
But there was business to attend to. He took his belongings, and went to go. But before that, he reiterated honesetly, "Thanks for the company. I appreciate it."
Z23 beamed.
—
Amagi led him to the Sakura Empire dorms with her little paper sunbrella covering her head. It was interesting to see how much the scenery changed moving from one dorm to another. Whoever was in charge of gardening here must have put their life and soul trying to work to ground to make it reminiscent of their home country. Cherry blossom trees, perfectly manicured grass, and other miracles of horticulture were available to please the eye. The commander wasn't much for going out and seeing nature, but the sight was breathtaking all the same to the indoor shut-in.
But he didn't really notice himself taking smaller and shorter footsteps until Amagi noticed that he was lagging far behind her. She had to stop and wait for him to catch up. Amagi was too polite to make a comment on it, but she made an effort to walk next to him, rather than trail on ahead. It appeared that no matter how much he lied to himself that it was only an apology, his body and heart knew the truth. He was absolutely terrified about how this could go. Granted, he had Amagi on his side. He couldn't even imagine all the ways that this encounter could go wrong.
Every step was a constant battle between his willpower and his nerves to just put this off for another day. It wasn't a pressing concern with lives at stake. Right? Akagi and Kaga wouldn't be gunned down in the heat of battle because of this indecisiveness. They could wait, so could he.
But his mind reminded him of Z23. How she spent her time with him on her own volition, away from her usual group of friends. He knew that if he was in her situation, he wouldn't have bothered to look out for her. Taking one step out of his comfort zone was unheard of. But Z23 was looking out for him. And while he couldn't really sort his feelings out — something that's been happening relatively frequently these days — he knew that at the very least, he should return the favor by being able to take this weight off of him and everyone else. And step out of his comfort zone of his own.
"Shikikan? Do you need to take a breather?"
Amagi's question snapped him out of his reverie. He suddenly realized he'd been standing in one place for quite a while, lost in thought. He shook his head, and moved on. He didn't want to be the one asking the sickly for a break in walking short distances.
But no matter how he dragged his feet, they arrived at the Sakura Empire dormitories. Maybe if he was here on leisure, he would have noticed all the little intricacies of the place. But he tunnel-visioned on the entrance, and his mind was full of all the scenarios and consequences which could arise. If it were up to him, he would've spent hours standing there thinking and preparing. Perhaps Amagi innately knew this, or maybe she was impatient, but she headed inside first. It left the commander no other option to stall, so he followed her inside.
The corridors and staircases made zero impression in his mind, only the smallest amount of brain power was used to follow Amagi while the rest of his mind was in absolute shambles. But lo and behold, they arrived in front of a sliding door. Amagi stopped to slide it open. He saw two huddled figures in the dark. Akagi and Kaga. And by their narrowed eyes and vicious sneers, it wasn't a far stretch to assume he wasn't welcome. Perhaps he was right in worrying. But the way out meant walking past and around Amagi. All his meager preparations in his head vanished instantly. His gut had only one word for him, and it was "doomed."
—
