His flippers smacked against the metal floor as he walked, and the oxygen tank he was carrying dangled from a strap wrapped around his shoulder. Drake wore a skin-tight black combat diving suit as he traversed through the hallways of the naval base, stopping when he reached a certain door. Reluctantly, he pushed open the door with his free hand and entered into a walkway overlooking a large, open room from above.
Down on the bottom floor was a group of men and women who were also dressed in combat diving suits, though they lacked the flippers and oxygen tank. A man with close-cropped silver hair, hard eyes, and a strong jaw stood at the head of the group, and instead of a diving suit, he wore blue digital camo fatigues. The entire group turned to stare as Drake flapped his way down the stairs and towards them.
"Take those fucking flippers off, God damn it," the man at the head of the group, Major General Wyeth, called out to Drake in a gruff voice.
Sighing to himself, Drake stopped at the base of the stairs, set down his oxygen tank, and pulled off his fins as a few soldiers in the group snickered.
"What the fuck's with the oxygen tank?" Wyeth then growled. "We're not diving today, sailor."
"Fleet Admiral Van Dyke did not tell me your schedule for today, sir," Drake answered.
"Well isn't that just dandy," the general grumbled. "He's probably over in his office having a fucking laugh at this. He keeps on sending you here, knowing full well that it's a fucking nuisance for both you and me. Take that oxygen tank and set it in that corner. Now we got a fucking trip hazard too, just great."
Drake did as he was told and then went over and stood at the back of the pack. The soldiers had mostly recovered from the antics by now, and they were pretty much used to this sort of thing anyway. Ever since Drake had first arrived at this naval base in Wales, Alaska, Fleet Admiral Van Dyke had sent him over to train with the SEALs every so often. It was a ridiculous arrangement since the SEALs did a much different type of training than Drake was used to, so the man in charge of the SEALs at the base, Major General Wyeth, often had to find alternative things for Drake to do or just give him easier versions of the tasks the actual SEALs were assigned. Since Van Dyke outranked Wyeth, there wasn't much the major general could do but complain, but thankfully Wyeth recognized that Drake himself wasn't at fault and didn't treat him too harshly… Though Wyeth was an abrasive and foul-mouthed man by nature, so it didn't really mean much.
Well, I guess it's not all bad, Drake thought as Wyeth prepared to go over the day's schedule. These SEALs are specifically training to combat Abyssals, so even though I'm nowhere close to their level, my CQC skills have improved since I got here. I've also learned a couple more useful skills like diving and underwater combat, though I am again not even close to the level that the SEALs are at…
"All right, for the first half of today, we're going to be holding a CQC tournament," Wyeth began. "You are all far enough along in training that something like this can actually be useful. Now's your chance to show off your skills, so take this seriously. Standard CQC training rules apply, so don't get too crazy. I already have the bracket drawn up, so we can get started on these mats immediately… Oh, wait, the fucking sailor is here today, so we have to add him in somehow."
Great. So I'm going to get my ass beat today, huh? Drake frowned, already accepting his inevitable defeat.
"Only problem is that we have uneven numbers now," Wyeth rubbed his chin. "Hm… I suppose -"
The door on the lower level then opened, causing everyone to turn and look. A woman dressed in the standard combat diving outfit entered the training area. She had light brown hair tied in a short ponytail, and her sky blue eyes twinkled along with the confident smile she wore.
"Mind if I join in, sir?" the aircraft carrier Intrepid asked.
"A ship girl, eh? Sure. That solves our numbers problem," Wyeth nodded. "Since you heard what we're doing today, you can fight your admiral in the first round."
Intrepid glanced over at Drake, who for his part tried to maintain an even expression.
Lucky break. I can beat a ship girl in CQC, Drake mused. At least now I won't be humiliated in the very first round.
"Okay, get to it!" Wyeth clapped his hands together forcefully. "If you're defeated, make sure you watch the other fights and try to learn something!"
The SEALs took a quick look at the whiteboard on the wall which had the bracket drawn out before facing off with their opponents. Drake and Intrepid stood a few feet apart on their own set of mats. Drake noticed that Major General Wyeth had his eye on this match, most likely because it was rare to see a ship girl in CQC, especially for someone who didn't work with them often.
He may be looking at Intrepid, but I'm going to teach him not to underestimate me today, Drake decided, cracking his knuckles.
"I won't go easy on you, sir," Intrepid smirked at Drake.
"That's fine with me. I'm ready when you are," he said, his blood heating up in anticipation.
Intrepid and Drake dropped into similar CQC stances as they eyed each other. Slowly and cautiously, they approached one another.
I've never fought Intrepid in CQC before. I'm guessing she's improved since that time Zuikaku smacked her around, so I'll be a bit careful at first, the rear admiral planned.
Drake also had another advantage; he was the one who had first introduced CQC into the training program of the ship girls. Though Van Dyke may have been the pioneer of modern CQC technique, Drake was the one who actually applied that technique to ship girls and taught them how to target an Abyssal's weak points. Since ship girls and Abyssals were similar in structure, those same weak points would also be exploitable on a ship girl, and he was going to take full advantage of that.
Intrepid made the first move and threw a quick jab at Drake, who easily dodged it. To counter, he hooked his elbow towards her eye. However, Intrepid was evidently expecting this, and she deflected his arm and aimed a kick at his left kneecap. He barely turned to avoid it as he backtracked a few feet.
I guess the downside to this approach is that Intrepid knows her own weak spots, and so she knows where I'm going to attack too. I need to prod for an opening first.
He moved to re-engage his opponent. His training sessions with the SEALs had made him more confident in his CQC ability, and so he was not afraid of pushing the fight when he needed to. Intrepid looked unperturbed as well, and she readily went to meet him.
Hmph. I'll make you pay for your overconfidence, Drake thought as he noted Intrepid's smug look.
Like Intrepid had done earlier, Drake aimed a quick kick at the aircraft carrier's knee joint with his left foot. Intrepid sidestepped this, but then Drake moved to jab at her face. Reacting quickly, Intrepid ducked low to the ground, avoiding his blow.
Fool! That is exactly what I was hoping you would do, Drake grinned, victorious.
His first kick attempt had been deliberately weak, and then he had purposely followed up with a stronger attack to the head area in order to draw Intrepid's attention there. However, what he was really planning was to unleash a full-power kick that would throw her off-balance, and his previous two moves had just been to set this up.
And she did me a favor by ducking down like that. Now instead of aiming for her legs, I can just knock her down even harder with a headshot. Take this!
Drake prepared to pivot on his left leg and finish this with a roundhouse kick, but before he could act, he glimpsed Intrepid suddenly turn in her squatted position and uncoil her leg like a spring. Her foot smashed into Drake's chin, knocking him backwards and sending him to the ground.
"Ugh…" he groaned as his vision swam and he slowly sat up.
Intrepid stood up and strode over to him and looked down on him with her hands on her hips. "I hope I didn't hurt you too bad, sir."
"I'm fine," he replied as he got up, frustrated that he hadn't seen that coming and also a bit annoyed by Intrepid's gloating look. "I guess I underestimated you, huh?"
"We've been doing CQC training with Fleet Admiral Van Dyke," Intrepid informed him.
Oh, so is that what they do on days like this when I'm sent over here?
"Well, I didn't expect you to go very far, but you were defeated pretty fucking quickly," Wyeth said to Drake as he walked over. "You left yourself completely open, you know."
Drake didn't say anything and dusted himself off as he got to his feet. Major General Wyeth just shook his head in disappointment before taking Intrepid off to move on to the next round.
"Ya get your ass kicked again, sailor?" one of the SEALs grinned at Drake. He was a tall and muscular man with a handsome face, wavy brown hair, and a boyish glint in his eye.
"Unfortunately," Drake replied, not really wanting to talk to this guy. His name was James L. Hughes, and he was probably the best SEAL here at the Anchorage base. That reputation made him cocky, and he was generally unpleasant to be around, at least in Drake's opinion.
"That was pretty quick this time," Hughes chuckled. "What, you can't even handle a ship girl? I thought they specialized in long-range naval combat, not CQC."
"She's been trained by Fleet Admiral Van Dyke, so she's not an amateur, apparently," Drake said, trying to defend his early exit from the tournament.
"Uh huh. Aren't you normally with Van Dyke too?" Hughes pointed out.
"Yeah, but I don't do CQC with him except for a few rare occasions. Mostly we just do battle simulations or paperwork."
"That sounds boring as shit. No wonder you're always last whenever we train," Hughes smirked.
"Heh. If it weren't for people like me coming up with the battle plans, you SEALs would be dead within the first five minutes of the fight," Drake scoffed back at him.
"Nice fantasy. You can tell yourself that if you want, but I've got another round to fight, so see ya," Hughes gave him another confident grin as he went back over to the mats for his next match.
I don't get any respect around here, Drake sighed to himself. Although he was a rear admiral, which was a fairly high rank in the navy, special forces truly did not give a fuck. It also didn't help that he had basically no power here since he was working under Fleet Admiral Van Dyke.
With nothing else to do, Drake stood on the perimeter with the other losers and watched the remainder of the fights. Hughes infuriatingly defeated his next opponent with ease, so Drake moved on to spectate Intrepid. He was sure that she had only beat him because he got overconfident, so he wasn't expecting her to last very long in this contest. Still, since she was part of the traditional section of the navy like he was, he found himself rooting for her anyway.
Right now Intrepid was fighting one of the few female members of the SEALs, and to Drake's surprise, the aircraft carrier was holding her own. The SEAL tried to go for a maneuver that would wrap up and lock up Intrepid's arms, but the ship girl slipped under it and swept the woman's legs out from underneath her. Intrepid then got down on the ground and put the SEAL in a chokehold using her legs, ending the match.
She's pretty good, actually, Drake marveled. He didn't feel as bad that he lost to her now.
The matches continued until the final round, and predictably, Hughes was one of the combatants in the championship matchup. However, Intrepid had also made it all the way to the finals, which was a surprise to everyone.
"Man, those ship girls really are good at everything," Drake heard one SEAL mutter behind him.
"She's so hot…" another one said under his breath.
"I wish she'd put me in a chokehold," a third commented.
"All right," Wyeth started as the group of SEALs watched Hughes and Intrepid line up on the mats to face each other. "Now begins the final round. Our combatants are Hughes and Intrepid, a ship girl. I'll have you all run extra laps tomorrow for being defeated by a fucking aircraft carrier in CQC, but for now, pay attention to this match and try and understand why you're not standing up here. Okay, you two may begin."
Please beat his ass, Intrepid, Drake cheered her on in his head. Oh, how good it would feel to see Hughes humiliated in front of everyone.
Both fighters sized each other up in their identical CQC stances. Hughes was bigger and more muscular than Intrepid, but so was Drake and most of the other SEALs, so that didn't mean much. Hughes stepped forward, his perpetual cocky smirk still on his face. Intrepid was not intimidated, and her blue eyes watched her opponent closely.
Hughes tried a quick jab, but Intrepid smoothly moved her head out of the way. Drake had fought Hughes before (and lost), and based on that experience and the other matches he'd seen Hughes in, he could more or less understand Hughes' fighting style. The SEAL tended to start his matches by probing his opponent and looking to see how they would react to various approaches. If he sensed that his opponent was weak, then he would just use full force and finish them immediately. He tried a quick combo of punches followed by a swift kick to Intrepid's knee, but the aircraft carrier blocked both his fists and remained standing even as his foot crashed into her leg. Hughes backed off a bit, evidently realizing that Intrepid was not going to be one of the easy ones.
Intrepid then moved on the attack. From his match with her and the others he had spectated, Drake could tell that Intrepid liked to provide false openings to her opponent and then strike when they least expected it. That, combined with the distracting sight of her figure in a tight diving suit, probably gave her a lot of easy wins, but he doubted that the same tactic would work on someone like Hughes.
Copying Hughes' opening moves, Intrepid tried a flurry of punches, all of which were blocked or dodged by Hughes. However, she then leapt into the air and did a spinning kick with amazing speed, her foot aimed at Hughes' head. The SEAL's green eyes widened in surprise as he barely brought up an arm to block it. He then stepped back again from Intrepid.
"That's some amazing speed," Hughes grinned, rubbing his sore forearm.
Drake agreed with that; no normal human could pull off a move like that with such flawless technique and quickness, not even a Navy SEAL. Just what is Van Dyke teaching them…?
Intrepid continued her advance, her hands lightly raised in a grappling position. But instead of grabbing for Hughes or trying another punch, her right leg suddenly shot upwards with what looked like a punting motion. Hughes did a backflip to avoid the blow, landing on his hands and springing to his feet a fair distance away. The dodging maneuver drew quite a few mutters of admiration from the crowd.
"You've got quite the skills yourself," Intrepid admitted with a pumped-up smile.
"Why, thank you," Hughes said as he dropped back into his stance. "Allow me to show you a few more."
Instead of moving slowly and cautiously like he had been the whole fight, Hughes ran towards Intrepid, causing her to have to switch to defense unexpectedly. To everyone's shock, Hughes did not take that opportunity to attack and instead dropped into a combat roll. He rolled underneath Intrepid's legs and emerged behind her, then pivoted for a reverse roundhouse kick with his right leg. Intrepid was clearly caught off-guard, but she managed to save herself by ducking under the blow. It was a similar scenario to what happened in her match with Drake, except this time there was a crucial difference in that Intrepid had been forced into the duck in a hurry and was not in any position to counter.
But that didn't mean she was beaten. Realizing that this position was unfavorable for her and that Hughes was about to finish her, Intrepid used her powerful legs to spring up from her squatting position and tackle Hughes to the ground. Hughes was falling with Intrepid on top of him, and for a moment it looked as if Intrepid had turned the tables and surprised him. And yet, when Hughes fell, he still had that cocky grin on his face. Before he could hit the ground, he grabbed hold of Intrepid and jumped backwards, using Intrepid's own tackle's momentum to slam her onto the mats in a suplex move. Intrepid lay there, stunned, and Hughes put his foot on her throat, ending the match.
Excited chatter went up from the crowd as the SEALs watched Hughes finally put an end to Intrepid's winning streak. Hughes removed his foot and stepped away as Intrepid slowly rose to her feet again. She grunted and rubbed her shoulder, which had been slammed roughly into the ground.
"Well, it was a good match," Hughes said, though he couldn't keep the supremely satisfied tone from his voice. "But the moment you stepped out of CQC moves with that improvised tackle, you lost."
Ah, so that's what it was, Drake realized. Everyone in the crowd had been surprised when Hughes ran at Intrepid and forced her into defense and yet didn't press his attack. All the other SEALs and Drake would have taken that opportunity to try to strike a heavy, full-power blow, but Hughes had instead bypassed her and rolled beneath her. This was because when Intrepid was on the defense, she was still adhering to the basics of Van Dyke's CQC, and she would be able to tank whatever hit Hughes would throw at her, especially because she was a ship girl. Therefore, Hughes had to create a situation where Intrepid would need to break free of CQC and leave herself open, which is why he waited until she tried that bodyslam before he made his true offensive attack.
Drake watched as Major General Wyeth went over to congratulate Hughes. But really… This guy is something else. Even if I had thought of that strategy in the match, there's no way I would have the technique to pull it off. He's a natural at this.
"Looks like you lost," the rear admiral said to Intrepid as the attention of the other SEALs shifted back to Hughes.
"Hmph. I won't lose next time," she said, glaring at Hughes, who wasn't even looking her way anymore.
"Nah, he'll probably beat you again," Drake told her with a small smirk. He had to admit he was still a bit sore from his loss to her. "But anyway, I'm going to get out of here so I don't have to watch this circlejerk. I'd suggest you do the same."
Moving while the SEALs and Major General Wyeth were distracted, Drake went over and picked up his oxygen tank and flippers and headed back upstairs. Intrepid followed him, probably recognizing that she wouldn't get her chance for revenge anytime soon.
The one thing Drake liked about being at the Wales base was that the atmosphere was pretty lax for him. He only had one day off on Sundays, but on days like this when Van Dyke sent him over to the SEALs, he could usually escape early because Wyeth didn't care about him and Van Dyke never asked for progress reports either. That meant that he had the rest of the day off.
"Are you going back to Wing A?" Drake asked Intrepid. Wing A was the part of the base where Drake, Van Dyke, and the ship girls usually operated.
"I guess. The Fleet Admiral flew out for a meeting last night and won't be back until Monday, so I don't really have anything to do," Intrepid said.
So that's why he must have sent me over to the SEALs today… "He didn't leave you any specific orders?"
"He just said to continue our training in the gulf," Intrepid answered.
"Really? He didn't give me any specific orders either," Drake mused.
"Then maybe he's giving us the weekend off?" Intrepid excitedly suggested.
"I doubt that, but he's not going to know either way, so whatever," Drake shrugged. "I could use a longer break once in a while, so you're free to do as you like. Don't tell him I said that, though."
"Nice!" Intrepid grinned. "But wait… There's nothing to do here anyway."
That much was true. No military personnel were allowed off the base, though even that didn't matter much because of how isolated Wales was. The village outside of the base pretty much just consisted of a couple hundred Inuits at most, and there wasn't much worth exploring there outside of vast expanses of snow and ice and the occasional polar bear.
"What do you do during your days off, sir?" Intrepid then asked him.
Hm… I can't tell her that I mostly just sit in my room and watch anime and TV all day or browse the Internet…
"Not much. I pretty much just go to the gym and then hang around," Drake said, purposely giving a vague answer.
"You're at the gym the entire day?" Intrepid gave him a flat look, obviously not pleased at his evasive answer. "We've been here for three months now and I feel like I'm going to lose my mind out of boredom eventually. Can you believe that Iowa and Saratoga actually got to go to New York City before we came here?"
"You literally used to live there."
"Yeah, but I was in the docks the whole time!" Intrepid protested. "And now here I am, stuck in Alaska in the winter. I can't even remember how the sun looks anymore…"
"Oh, come on."
"At least you get to fly home every once in a while, sir, so you wouldn't understand my pain," Intrepid glared at him.
"I kind of like it here, honestly," Drake said. "It's calm and quiet, and the snow and solitude is beautiful in its own way. I could see myself living here when I'm retired."
"Ugh, that sounds horrible," Intrepid disagreed. "I'd take NYC over this place any day. Why were we even assigned to a base all the way out here anyway?"
"It's isolated, so secrecy, maybe? The Abyssals are unlikely to attack here or to even be watching this place… Hold on, I have to stop by here to return the oxygen tank."
Drake went into a closet in the hallway to place the oxygen tank back in place, then returned with his flippers still in hand.
"Are you going back to Wing A too, sir?" Intrepid wondered.
"Yeah. Since you aren't doing anything today, we should all watch a movie together or something," Drake suggested.
"There aren't any movie theaters on base, though," Intrepid reminded him.
"So? We can watch in my room."
"Oooh? You're inviting us to your room, sir?"
Drake frowned at her as she grinned, but then he looked away as a pang of loneliness ran through him. He still remembered when he had watched Titanic with his fleet to celebrate the success of their second mission. He had received no news whatsoever about them since he left Japan, and he was hoping that meant that they were all still safe, though a small part of him knew that one country would never openly reveal if they had lost one of their ship girls. Even Fleet Admiral Van Dyke did not tell him about what was going on in Japan.
"Sir?"
"Uh, what is it?" Drake said, realizing he had been lost in his thoughts.
"I was asking what movie we're going to watch," she repeated, her blue eyes curious as to why he looked so distracted.
"Oh, I've got a couple in mind, so we can choose one when we get back," he said. "Have you seen Titanic? I watched it with my fleet in Japan, but I don't know if you'd like it."
"That movie about the ocean liner? I think Iowa and Sara already saw it," Intrepid supplied.
"Really? When?"
"I don't know. I just remember Sara teasing Iowa about how she cried at the end."
"Iowa cried at the end?" Drake repeated, incredulous. "There's no way."
"It's true, apparently," Intrepid nodded. "Maybe we should watch it again just to see that."
Eventually the pair returned to Wing A of the naval base. They went to the lounge area first where they hoped to find the other American ship girls since they didn't have anything to do today, and sure enough, they were all there.
"Hey, you're back!" Iowa greeted. "How'd it go, Intrepid?"
"I lost in the final round," she sighed. "I still beat Admiral Drake, though."
"Aw, did the big bad aircraft carrier beat you up, sir?" Iowa teased Drake.
"Yeah. She made me cry in front of everyone," Drake said.
"R-Really?" Iowa was taken aback.
"No, not really," Drake frowned at her. "Anyway, since it doesn't look like anyone here is doing any actual work, who wants to go see a movie?"
"Wow! For real?" the destroyer Samuel B. Roberts, cheered. Though she was a destroyer escort in her WWII service, the engineers at the base who discovered her judged that her rigging was closer to that of a destroyer's in terms of ship girls.
"I-Is that all right? Won't the Fleet Admiral get mad?" Gambier Bay asked worriedly.
"I mean… He doesn't have to know about it," Drake smirked. "Of course, if you'd rather stay here and do whatever it was that you were doing, then feel free."
"Mm, I don't think I've moved from this spot for hours," Saratoga yawned as she stood up and stretched. "It might be nice to do something different for a change."
Johnston, the newest member of the American fleet, jumped up from beside Saratoga. "I want to go too!"
"Hell yeah! What are we watching?" Iowa asked energetically.
"I heard you're a fan of Titanic." He just couldn't resist.
"H-Huh? Who'd you hear that from!" Iowa blushed. "Intrepid! How could you!"
"Hey, don't blame me," Intrepid held her hands up.
"Calm down, we won't watch that," Drake assured the blonde battleship.
The ship girls discussed with each other what sort of movie they would like to see as the group walked over to Drake's room. It was a small, dark space like most of the rooms at the naval base, and it was much smaller than Drake's old flat back in Japan. It consisted of one room with a sofa, a TV, a bed, and a joint private bathroom. There was a single small circular window that looked out onto the snowy Alaskan landscape.
"Hey, this looks exactly like my room," Iowa observed.
"Yeah, except he doesn't have to share it with anyone," Intrepid said.
"I call the bed!" Iowa declared as she let herself fall back onto Drake's bed, her arms outstretched as if she owned the place.
"Hey, make room. That sofa can't fit five people," Intrepid chastised Iowa.
"Sammy and Johnston can sit in Captain Drake's lap," Iowa said, enjoying the space of the bed to herself.
"Okay! You'll let me, right, Admiral?" Johnston asked with a grin.
"For the entire movie?" Drake sighed at the ship girls' antics. "Iowa, just let Intrepid share the bed with you."
"Don't put it like that," Intrepid said.
"Or would you prefer it if Sara sat in your lap, Captain?" Iowa then said with a trollish smile.
"I-Iowa!" Saratoga blushed heavily.
"All right, all right," the battleship relented, moving over to make room for Intrepid.
Drake sat down on the couch and flipped the TV on. Johnston and Samuel B. Roberts happily squished next to him, and Gambier Bay sat on the other side of him. He noticed that Saratoga took the seat farthest away from him, a pink blush still faintly present on her pretty face.
Iowa hasn't changed since the day I met her, Drake sighed to himself.
"All right, since you're all ship girls, I was thinking of something with a navy theme," the rear admiral started. "How about this one?"
"'Top Gun'?" Iowa read aloud.
"Isn't that the fighter tactics program?" Intrepid asked.
"Yeah, it's about a carrier fighter pilot," Drake confirmed. "Let's just go with this. I've already seen it, but I want to know what you all think of it."
He started the movie, and for the next couple hours or so, the ship girls sat together with their admiral as the film played. Drake was only half paying attention to the movie since this was his second time viewing it, and as he watched with the American ship girls, he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing in his heart. It sounded cheesy, but perhaps it fit well with the movie selection, then.
When the film ended and the credits began to roll, Drake turned and glanced at Iowa.
"So? How was it?"
"It was so cool!" Iowa sat up with a fire in her eyes. "I want to be a fighter pilot now!"
"Calm down, you're already a battleship," Intrepid rolled her eyes.
"What did you think of it, Intrepid? You've got more experience with fighter planes," Drake then asked.
"Hm… It seemed kind of cliched, honestly," Intrepid decided. "I mean, I haven't seen that many movies myself, but even I can tell that some parts were just… Yeah."
"I think I agree with Intrepid," Saratoga added. "It was a bit too predictable."
"I liked it, sir!" Samuel B. Roberts cut in.
"Yeah! It was cool!" Johnston nodded.
"What about you?" Drake prodded Gambier Bay lightly with his elbow.
"M-Me? Um, I… If the Admiral chose it, it must be good, right?" Gambier Bay offered meekly.
"Hah! I don't think that has to be true," Drake grinned. "Actually, the first time I saw it, I thought it was awful. But even so, there's something about its unapologetic and blatant straightforwardness that still holds my interest. The soundtrack is pretty good too."
"It kind of seemed like a navy propaganda film," Intrepid noted.
"Then it definitely worked for Iowa!" Johnston laughed.
Saratoga smiled at the battleship, a mischievous glint in her eye. "I'll at least commend you for not crying this time, Iowa."
"HEY! I did not cry!"
A few minutes later, the ship girls went back to their own quarters, leaving Drake by himself in his room. It was still fairly early in the afternoon and he had the rest of the day off, but he didn't have any plans. He walked up to his small window and stared out at the pure white snow.
That was pretty fun. I should hang out with them outside of work more often.
But still, that nagging feeling continued to follow him. What about his fleet back in Japan? Those were the girls that he trained, and he saw them through their first combat operations in their new lives as ship girls. They were also with him for his own first real battles where he was the man in charge, but now, they were across the ocean from each other.
Was he on the correct path right now? Sure, he was back with Fleet Admiral Van Dyke and was training to improve his combat skills, but could he actually say that he was getting better? If he were put in a similar situation to the Battle of Okinawa now, would he be successful? Or was all this just the beginning of the end for him? This new post was undoubtedly less involved than his previous assignment in Japan, and it was entirely possible that his next post would be even further away from the action. He realized that he could potentially never see his fleet again, and that he would never go into battle against the Abyssals either.
If he was being honest, a part of him felt relieved at that. All his experiences with the Abyssals had been truly terrible, and he still sometimes had nightmares about being chased through the passageways by that Ne-class. The lives of those who died in the line of duty because of him were fresh in his mind, and he often thought about the people of Tangier, the men on those destroyers, Lieutenant Commander Longfellow, and Kaga. If he couldn't fight anymore, then what did they all die for? He felt like he asked himself this question everyday, but he still didn't have an answer to it.
People were still out there on the frontlines, waiting for the next big Abyssal attack. He was sure that his fleet in Japan would be included in that defense, but he wasn't sure that he would be. More people would fight and die against the Abyssals, and all he could do was watch from his post in the far northern reaches of the snowy wastelands of Alaska, a failure. This was his solemn penance.
He moved away from the window and sat down on his bed. Out here, the sun would set early, and it was beginning to get dark out. As his room became shrouded in shadows, Drake recalled things about the base. He remembered Houshou's warm glow, Zuikaku's rough but friendly words, Rear Admiral Genji's perpetual scowl even as he sat down to eat lunch with Drake, and the lazy but cute smile Bismarck wore when she was drunk.
And they're all still fighting… Just what the fuck am I doing here!
Drake angrily clenched his fists, but that was all he could do. He was buried in the snow even as the fires of war raged around him. His mind tore at him, and he was constantly being pulled in different directions. On one hand, he felt like he had to get back into the fight by any means necessary. However, he also recognized that realistically, there was nothing he could do to force his superiors to give him back his command. A third part of him, the part he hated the most, let out a sigh of relief at his exit from the battlefield and wished things could forever stay this peaceful for him. And the final part of him was crushed by the weight of the dead he had left behind, too strained to even speak.