"You look horrible."
"I know."
"I've had my fair share of insomnia, but I'd wager to say that the bags on your eyes are just as prominent as your nose!"
"Thanks."
"Look, what's wrong? I am genuinely concerned about your well-being."
"It was difficult to sleep last night knowing I would die horribly before living to a ripe old age."
"Do you not have trust in humanity?"
"Looking at our shared past history, it's very difficult to."
"Have faith, good man! I would bet on my entire family that we'll always pull out of it okay. We always have."
"That sounds like a terrible case of survivorship bias. Just because we've remained on the earth for this long does not mean that humanity has made perfect decisions to get to this point. Much of it is dumb luck. Much like this entire situation."
"Alright, alright, look. I already bet my whole family. My wife, three kids, and a grandchild. It'll turn out okay."
"So I have the right to sell your entire family once everything goes to shit?"
"Theoretically, yes. You want me to give you my address?"
"That seems unwise. And probably would lead to something illegal."
"Not to worry. My team of lawyers have assured me that giving out personal data does not violate my non-disclosure act. They just said it was really stupid."
"You are insufferable. How did you get to be chairman?"
—
The commander did not get a good night's sleep that night. Try as he might, his brain would not stop running wildly with all the events of yesterday. It was only after his body's circadian rhythms finally took over his lethargic body and pulled him into the sweet release of unconsciousness. And he remained peacefully ignorant from waking and getting ready until he walked into the hologram room for another skirmish. He already expected Belfast to be there with the file, but Amagi and Akagi being there as well made all the unpleasant memories come roaring back into his head, and he stopped at the threshold of the door.
"Ah, Commander," Belfast said. "You have guests."
That roused him out of shock a bit. "Yes. Hi Amagi. Hi Akagi. What brings you both here?"
Amagi tittered. "A little birdie told me that there would be a skirmish this morning. I wanted to learn strategy under you in real-time. And Akagi came along because of her secretarial duties." Belfast raised her eyebrows slightly at this, but remained impassive. Akagi simply clasped her hands together and looked down, avoiding eye contact with him. It seemed like after all of yesterday's events, Akagi was still not her usual boisterous passionate self.
He simply rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Sure. I'll get started then." He took the file, perused it, and immediately booted up the holographic table. The file was left face-up, and he tilted it towards Amagi and Akagi, giving implicit permission for them to read the brief and details. Belfast remained in the corner, eyes closed.
He began with the usual: deployments, formations, compositions. All of this was second nature to him at this point. The holographic table had an option for voice commands, but he'd never used it. The terminal always felt better, where his sentences weren't slurred and broken, his words weren't imprecise and extrafluous. While it was slightly slower than vocal commands, he felt better about the fact that he could retract his orders if he didn't like the way it sounded. Then the game began.
The Sirens, or whoever was leading them, weren't very intelligent in terms of strategy. They fell for every trick in the book. Flanks, what were those? All the Sirens seemed to be capable of doing was shooting in his forces' general direction. He had wondered multiple times if the Sirens were toying with him. But it didn't matter. His job wasn't to question the ulterior motives of his enemy. Just annihilate them in the best way possible.
It only took an hour to systematically destroy them and clean up the stragglers. No losses. Another mundane victory. Another slash in the tallies.
He suddenly realized that he wasn't alone during this entire time. And when he looked up, Amagi seemed to be deep in thought while Akagi's eyes were glistening with wonder. Belfast was still in her corner, calm and composed as always.
He sheepishly scratched his head. "Uh, yeah, that's basically what I do. I don't really know how to explain my thought processes."
Amagi nodded, but he wasn't really sure if she was listening to him or still on a different train in her head. The shining admiration had diminished from Akagi's face, and she returned to a more thoughtful expression. The parity suddenly struck him how similar Amagi and Akagi were. But…
"Where's Kaga?" he asked. The white/blue air carrier was conspicuously absent.
"Ah, she's exercising." Amagi said, brought back to reality. "Kaga's always been the type to continuously train, rain or shine. She wasn't interested in watching the skirmish."
He nodded as if in understanding, but he couldn't really compute a scenario where the two wouldn't be together. Akagi and Kaga. Peanut butter and jelly. Headaches and Tylenol.
"In any case," Amagi said. "Why don't we take this to the canteen?"
—
At the canteen, those who had returned from the skirmish triumphant were telling everyone else about the exhilaration and excitement of cannon shots ruffling their hair, or their direct hits which sunk the enemy. Some of these claims were true; many were not. In any case, spirits were high. And he was sitting right in the middle of the Sakura Empire, sandwiched between Akagi and Amagi.
There were many others at the table too, all chattering with their own conversations, but he didn't really see the point in time to jump in. He really felt out of his depth here. At least Amagi wasn't excluding him. Akagi was still thinking about something to herself.
"So," Amagi began, picking at her food, trying to get her soft-spoken voice heard through the general din of the canteen. "What runs through your head during battle?"
"Well… Nothing really. I just focus on the screen and just do my thing. Nothing really runs through my mind. I just know what I have to do at any given point, and I act on it."
"No planning? No thinking ahead? No predictions about what the enemy would do?"
"Not really. I kinda see all their options, and then react accordingly."
Amagi considered that carefully. "Are you good at shogi?"
"Shogi? I've learned the basic rules, but I can't claim to be anything more than an amateur. I play a better game of chess."
"Chess, then. Do you feel the same way?
"Not even close. What are we playing, twenty questions?"
"I'm just trying to tease out every question I can from out of you before you clam up again," Amagi said, nonchalantly. When his reply didn't come so easily, she turned to face him directly where her teasing visage was much more apparent. "Just joking, you know. I just wanted to let you know that it feels much better when you're able to talk with me with zero reservations against misslipping."
That was true. When did he feel so at ease talking with Amagi now? He still spoke with Belfast with several reservations. But Amagi managed to slip through the cracks and he was perfectly at ease. Maybe it was because Amagi seemed to be perfectly honest. She revealed everything. And like a moth to light, he was drawn to that candor. Because he was never that honest to himself, let alone others. And he must have felt it necessary to return that honesty with his own. And the walls around his Jericho were dropped.
"It's not a bad thing, Commander," Amagi said. "If need be, I can always be your confidant." The words echoed just like Z23's promise yesterday. But despite Z23 promising to listen to whatever he said earlier, it was Amagi who he trusted. He felt guilty about that.
"Alright," he said.
"But I think it's unfair for me to be hogging all your attention. Akagi, you look like you wanted to say something."
Akagi was abashed, and shook her head. It was disconcerting to see Akagi so restrained from her usual personality. He wasn't sure if it was because of his presence or Amagi's. He figured he'd be able to have a conversation between them eventually.
The rest of the meal went on with no further conversation. The other kansen in the Sakura Empire didn't seem to pay him too much attention, which made him glad somewhat. He wasn't sure if he could handle any more conversation with others than what he already had today.
Eventually, Amagi said her goodbye and went her own way. She said she had some other business to attend to, but she wouldn't miss the next time there was another skirmish. And that left only him and Akagi to trundle over to his office, where Akagi would fulfill the dubious role of his secretary. Belfast's only reaction was a single raised eyebrow, but nothing more. Perhaps she realized the implicit want of privacy, but she made herself scarce soon after they had settled in. He just gave Akagi some of the duties that would usually be reserved for Belfast. Getting signatures, filing away reports, and other boring things.
Besides that, there were no words spoken. They worked in silence. At least in Belfast's company, the commander could complain and stretch and get up whenever he wanted without judgment. It was understood that nothing would leave the room. Because Belfast was professional like that. But with Akagi, they both had their guards up. Akagi was just as silent as Belfast was, and offered nothing. At the end of the day, he'd say something mundane like "Good work today," and she'd nod and they'd walk their different ways until the next day.
It drove him mad.
It didn't help either that Amagi was nowhere to be seen. There weren't any skirmishes the past few days, so there was no reason to meet in the first place. So it was just him and Akagi in his office, getting loads of work done, but little else.
—
On the fourth day, his patience grew thin. He snuck glances at Akagi, thinking of what to say and hoping Akagi would spark the conversation first. What would he say anyways? "Akagi, can we talk about what happened like five days ago?"
But he must have been caught staring one too many times, because Akagi eventually put down her pen and sighed. "Is there something you want, Shikikan? It's getting rather difficult to concentrate on my work when you're looking this way with the frequency of some love-stricken kitten."
He said nothing, embarrassed.
"You want to talk?" she asked.
"... Yeah."
"I don't think there is much to talk about," Akagi said, picking up her pen again. "It has nothing to do with you, Commander."
"But —"
"It's a matter that needs to be resolved between me and my sister. You may have kicked off this entire mess, but now it's something between only us two."
"Don't I have a say in this?"
"I don't think you understand. Even as commander, there are some things you aren't privy to. This includes familial disagreements."
"I —"
"I'm only here because I respect Amagi greatly and love her. But that doesn't mean we get along all the time. Words cannot describe how painful it is to be here every day, trying to stem the aching in my chest."
He didn't know how to respond to that.
"I'll still be coming in every day, but as a favor to me, please stop trying to bring up the topic. There's nothing more to say." Akagi stacked the papers in one nice stack, and handed it to him. She politely excused herself and left, her tails brushing against the doorway as she left. The door clicked shut quietly.
His mind didn't seem to want to work that evening. Akagi's words seemed to revolve in his head over and over again, bouncing around in his skull without making any sense. But they slowly seeped in, long after Akagi had gone.
He was completely and totally out of his depth. Just when he felt he had some sort of tenable grasp on the situation, it slipped between his thin fingers. There was something that he fundamentally could not understand. At some point, the situation revolved from him and Akagi to Amagi and Akagi. And now he was just as out of touch with them, just like all those who spread stupid rumors. Well, the issue was no longer in his hands anymore. Akagi didn't want to talk to him. There was nothing he could do. So he should feel satisfied with himself.
Then what was this sinking feeling in his stomach? What was this nausea, this cramp nestled right in between the liver and intestines?
Oh. He remembered. It was the same feeling as when he had a bill with numbers too big. When he had an envelope taped to his apartment door after being fired. It was helplessness.
Normally, what he would do was drown himself by pretending to do some work. But Akagi had done too much of a good job. There was nothing to pretend to do. He couldn't go outside because he really didn't want to see anyone else right now. So he whiled away the time by scrolling through his email. Waiting for the time where no one would bother him late at night.
He used to occasionally get messages from kansen for nights out. Trips to the pub from the Ironblood. Teatime with the Royal Navy. But as he never responded to any of these, the messages died out as well. He regretted it now. He felt a pressing need to do something stupid right now. Like getting wasted.
But one email in particular caught his eye, from a week ago. It said,
"Hi Commander!
"I know that you're going through a rough patch right now, but just know that we're all here to support you in your endeavors. If you feel like you need to step back for a moment and catch your breath, that's perfectly okay! You're the commander of the Combined Fleet, after all. You've got a lot of things on your plate.
"If you ever need advice or counseling, feel free to ask! I'll always be here for you. Just shoot me a message anytime.
Bremerton"
Normally, he would ignore this. He was a functioning adult. He didn't need any counseling. But today, he felt that removing this fistula of emotions developing inside of him would offer relief. He sent a short message.
"That'd be nice. Are you free today?"
The reply was almost instantaneous. "Anytime is good!"
—
Her directions led to the dorms of the Eagle Union. It was Bremerton who suggested meeting outside. He decided to wait at one of the picnic tables with chairs that were scattered around the area. It was night again. For whatever reason, the sky above the port of Azur Lane never knew a single cloud. All the stars were visible, like normal. But they no longer were as brilliant as they were when he first saw them. Now, they were just as mediocre as any other sky.
The commander still had zero clue what Bremerton looked like. He had in mind someone like Z23 — stern and serious, but with genuine concern whenever it was necessary.
But Bremerton turned out to be big. If she had a suit on, she could have easily passed for a bouncer many would fear to challenge. She could have been much more threatening if she didn't have the pink hair, an outrageous outfit, and a perpetual smile on her face.
In any case, it only made the commander ever-so-more aware of his fragility. If she willed it, he could instantly die. No hope of running away or fighting back. Just utter doom. The only reason why he was allowed to piss other kansen off was because of his brain. That was the only reason why Akagi and Kaga hadn't torn his head clean off his shoulders with their teeth.
But at least Bremerton seemed friendly enough. Despite her build, her handshake was light and warm. There was nothing about her which suggested hostility.
"I'm glad that we were able to meet, Commander!" Her voice was light, too.
Truth be told, he was a little shocked by Bremerton's appearance. All that came out of his mouth was, "You weren't what I was expecting." He mentally grimaced for that foot-in-mouth.
"I get that a lot," Bremerton laughed. "No worries, no worries. So what do you want to talk about?"
All the sudden, his resolve in coming here withered away. Her eyes had zero malicious intent, but he couldn't bear to look her in the eye. The carefully-constructed thoughts and explanations vanished from his mind. And so he was at a loss of words.
Bremerton was rummaging in her bag that he didn't notice until now. She ended up pulling out two cold canned beers, condensation slick on the metal. "Usually I bring water or Gatorade for me and Baltimore on the tennis courts, but I thought a beer might be better for the occasion," she explained, handing one to the commander.
He gladly took it, and let the hops wash over his uncertainty. Even though the alcohol concentration was probably negligible, he felt more at ease. He let the can chill his hands until they were numb. Finally, he gathered the courage to ask, "Er, Bremerton, how did you start with this counseling business?"
"Hmm… I guess it all started when I realized a lot of my friends were coming to me for advice. And they kept thanking me. So I figured I should stretch out my hand for those who needed an ear to listen to them, or a shoulder to lean on. So here we are! Usually I just message via Juustagram, but I also meet in person, for some cases."
"Do you ever feel like counseling is all you can ever do?"
Bremerton looked pensive, much more serious than the light self she displayed earlier. "No, I wouldn't say so. I fight, after all. I play tennis with my sister. There's plenty of things I do outside of this."
"Hm."
"I'd assume you feel differently?"
"Yeah, you can say that," he said, his voice turning a shade of melancholic. "I can do clever things on any battlefield, but nothing else. This head is the only reason why I'm the commander. If it were anyone else with the same level of strategy, I'd be ousted out immediately." This didn't even began to unravel everything, but it was a start.
"If there was any skill that you could master instantly right now, what would it be?" Bremerton asked.
He immediately thought of Akagi and snorted. "I think the answer is plain and clear."
"Say it for me, then."
"It'd be excellent if I suddenly became an expert in talking with others." His mind couldn't stop replaying Akagi's last words. There's nothing more to say.
"Well, what's stopping you from getting better?"
He laughed humorlessly. "Fate. The stars. The man in the sky. They have declared that in exchange for being a savant, I am incapable of talking with strangers on any fundamental level."
"You're talking to me now, aren't you?" she pointed out.
"If it weren't for this drink and societal niceties, I'd have left by now," he muttered, clenching his can tighter.
Bremerton was quiet, thinking. He instantly felt regret. There he did it again. He said too much because he wasn't thinking of the consequences. She took the time out of her day to chat with someone she didn't even know and he insulted her company. Perhaps he should just become a hermit in his office. He wouldn't need to talk to anyone except Belfast, and he could just rot away, only doing skirmishes. That way he wouldn't piss off another entire faction with a single conversation.
"Commander, can I tell you a story?" Bremerton asked. Her low, serious tone was again replaced by the light, breezy careless tone in the beginning.
"Sure," he said, already wondering if it'd be a similar story to Bismarck's tale of Tirpitz.
"Well, aside from my counseling services and battles, I didn't really get out much. I preferred to stay inside most of the time, whiling away time on Juustagram. Everything I did kinda wanna try, Baltimore was already there, going above and beyond what I could fathom."
"Baltimore's your sister?"
"Yeah. And she excels at everything she puts her mind to. A natural wellspring of talent. I don't mind it that much… she's my big sister after all." Her smile became a little wistful. "I wouldn't say I was jealous, but it was really hard to try something new when you knew that no amount of work would be enough to surpass your sister, you know?"
He understood that feeling. That was why he had never tried his hand at anything else.
"But then one day, my sister asked me to play tennis doubles with her. I was like, 'No way in hell! I'd just embarrass myself in front of everyone!' But she eventually convinced me to give it a try. She taught me the form of all the swings and serves. And then we went."
"Did you guys win?"
She shook her head. "Nah. Our opponents were too good. They kept hitting the ball my way where I kept fumbling it. But it was really exhilarating. It was the most fun I had in a long time. So now I go every day with Baltimore to get my butt handed to me, but I don't really care whether or not I'll be better than her. I go because it's fun, not because I necessarily want to get better." She paused here. "I think that's how we should approach most things in life. You take the challenge for the sake of the challenge, not for the reward."
He thought about that. "So you're saying to talk to people because it's rewarding, not because it'll help my social skills?"
She winced a bit. "I realize that the analogy isn't perfect, but yeah! Talk to people because it's fun, and the skills would follow naturally. I mean, you're not having a bad time right now, right?"
He suddenly remembered where he was again. He was talking with someone who was a complete stranger only an hour ago, at a picnic bench. And his hands weren't clammy, and he didn't have knuckle-whitening nausea. This… wasn't too bad. "Yeah," he managed. "This wasn't bad at all." He didn't know when, but at some point his death grasp on his can had lessened to a much more comfortable grip.
Bremerton broke out into a wide smile. "I'm glad to hear it." She checked her watch. "Oh, it's quite late now. I need to head inside, and I reckon that you have a lot to think about. You want us to meet again sometime?"
This time, he looked Bremerton straight in the eye. "I'd like that. Um, next week?"
"Sounds good to me!" She stood up, and shook the commander's hand, much more vigorously than when they first met. "You know, Commander, you aren't half as bad of a person you think you are. Give yourself some credit, eh? There's a reason it was you, and not anyone else who was sent here. There's a lot that we can see in you. So hang in there, alright?" She winked, and threw her bag over her shoulder and started to walk towards the Eagle Union dorms.
The last few sentences took the commander by complete surprise, so all he could do was wordlessly wave goodbye back, letting the words sink in. And he, too, got up and started back to his room. His heels didn't seem to kick up as much dust as before. He looked at the sky, and they seemed to shine imperceptibly more brighter.
