Genji stepped deliberately down the tight staircase that led into the hull of the Hanamura, reaching up to cover his ears as the piercing screams of steam engines rang in circles down in the cramped space beneath the ship. He cursed under his breath as the hot, humid air immediately assaulted his pores, sending him breaking into a sweat not five steps into the winding room. It coiled throughout the interior of the ship, the steam powering much of the ship above, venting upward through the ship to boil water, power the ship's propulsion, and a myriad of other things, even if such technology was still incredibly difficult to harness.

Still, it made ships much quicker, as well as not having to rely on the zephyrus winds to take them where trade was needed, the steam engines perhaps being the single largest reason for the Shimada Company's climactic reach for Pacific dominance. Still, as the technology was not only complicated to begin with, it also required skilled hands to maintain, a single hole in a pipe likely to ruin the apparatus as a whole. Luckily for the Shimadas, they had an expert in such things.

"Hey! Steam worker!" Genji shouted from the stairwell, not privy to entering the steaming hall if he didn't need to, though their engineer's silence implied otherwise as he cursed, "Fuck. Where is that girl…"

He stomped down the remaining steps, shaking his head displeasingly before stepping through the hallway, already feeling light-headed from the immense heat. Carefully maneuvering along past the floor, littered with piping and various scraps of metal made to mend any deficiencies, Genji crouched low beneath pipes hanging from the ceiling as well, grunting angrily, worming his way deeper into the vessel until he finally came across a sign of life.

"OUCH!" came a pitiable cry, "Bèn dàn! Stupid- *CLANG CLANG*!"

Genji turned the slight corner to find his engineer with a wrench in her hand, beating angrily at a slovenly-placed pipe, trying to work it back into place, his voice piping up loud, "Steam girl!"

The wrench went flying as Mei spun toward the source of her name being called, her arm having coiled back for another blow, though it quickly returned to her side as she jumped to attention, "Y-Y-Y-Yes- Yes s-sir!"

Groaning, Genji cursed once again as he examined his surroundings, bracing himself on an overhead pipe, "How the fuck do you live down here like this?!"

"W-W-Well, I remember that s-steam powers, uh, the future!" Mei stammered, her face turning worriedly as she continued to spout out an answer she hoped would satisfy the first-mate, "When, uh- When you use coal, coal power, you know, that kills the people working with it! Steam is, uh, well, it's clean for everybody, so- I mean, I want to make sure it becomes mainstream, right?"

Genji eyed her, "I don't know; is that right?"

"Y-Y-Yes! Of course!" Mei replied, scratching her hands nervously, "S-S-Sorry, that was- Sorry! I'm an idiot sometimes!"

Genji groaned at her self-deprecation, though failed to address it as he spoke back up, "My brother, the Commodore, was wanting to know if we could speed up this excursion. He understands your-"

The wrench spontaneously slipped from Mei's hand as she let loose with a loud gasp, falling forward to attempt to catch it though it hit the grated floor with a massive CLANG as she fell on all fours, rushing to scoop it up as she threw herself back to her feet, nervously pushing her spectacles back up the bridge of her nose.

"S-S-Sorry!" she shouted, pulling the sleeve of her thin Breton shirt back atop her shoulder.

Genji sighed, running a wrist across his forehead to wipe away his sweat, "Look, we need to speed this up. Any way to power these engines further?"

"Uh… Uh…" Mei stammered, "I mean- Yes, we could, but-"

"Excellent," Genji nodded, turning to leave in a hasty manner, "My brother, the Commodore, will be-"

"Wait!" Mei cried out, nearly tripping over her own feet, " I-It's possible, but it's dangerous! Are you sure you-?"

Genji lowered his shoulders as he came to a stop, turning back around, "How fast can you get this thing without there being an accident?"

"W-Well- Well, uh," she continued in a fluster, "Considering I'm only one person, and I c-can't be everywhere- you know- The biggest issue is steam building up on a track. Normally, I'm monitoring everything- if there's a spot heading to blow, I can relieve it. But with so many tracks, and only one person, I mean- Basically, you're increasing the risk for such little gain."

Genji groaned, "Well, we'll send men down here to help you monitor-"

"No!" Mei cried out pleadingly before recoiling in a fright, "I-I-I mean, uh… It's complicated work and all…"

With a frustrated sigh, Genji wiped his scalding face with his sleeve, not wanting to tarry along down here any longer, resolving the situation succinctly, "Look, were on a deadline. Increase the engines to a point where you're comfortable; we're trying to increase productivity, the more we ship quicker, that's more in our pockets."

"A-At the risk of safety?!" Mei wondered with a start.

Genji eyed her, "It's not unsafe if it's the highest speed you're comfortable with. Honestly, we trekked across the whole of China to get the best steam worker; if you can't deliver, we'll send you back and you can keep blowing off people fingers with those stupid steaming fireworks of yours, got it?"

He turned on his heel with a curse, stomping off, the oppressive heat taking its toll as he wandered off through the coils of pipes in his way like an iron jungle, leaving Mei to frown sadly as she lowered her head, scratching her arm as she cast a pensive look toward the floor, reaching out to adjust a nearby valve with a despondent sigh.

Genji couldn't escape the streaming hallway fast enough, clutching the railing of the stairs with a slip of his hand from the sweat, barreling up onto the deck with a hasty gasp, the cool air assaulting his skin with a freezing blow as his skin trembled. He let out sputtering breaths of curse-fueled words as he stomped stern side, entering into the small room that held the captain's wheel, shaking his head as he turned toward Hanzo.

"I don't know why we went and got her; she can't even assure us swift passage! Why are we paying her?"

Hanzo remained stoic as his hands gently grasped two handles along the giant steering wheel, "Because I'm standing a few feet above hundreds of pounds of water pressure. and I don't intend on having my feet blown off. Did she give us any extra push?"

Scoffing, Genji replied, "She began to preach on her work, but I don't give two shits. Said she'd get as fast as she could without there being issues."

"Good. We're lagging behind; we need to get west of Fiji before the end of the month if we're going to maintain punctuality," Hanzo explained smoothly.

Genji agreed as he made his way over toward a nearby counter, fiddling with a compass rose as his brother returned to speaking, "Check the glass, will you?"

"Pfft, why?" Genji questioned childishly, "There isn't anything but ocean so far as the eye can see."

His brother raised an eyebrow, "Then why do my eyes fixate on an object to the port side?"

Genji's head raised apprehensively, making his way toward a wonder peeking out from the wheelhouse with a speedy gait as he grasped a telescope, peering out into the distance to spot a ship on the horizon, his lips curling at the sight of their colors.

"Brother, swing the ship, oh, twenty five degrees to port."

Unamused, Hanzo shot him a pithy glare, "I just mentioned, brother, that we're on a tight schedule that we are not to deviate from."

"Not even for Jack Morrison?"

Hanzo was visibly taken aback, his hand squeezing the wooden handle as he fought over his words, settling on "We're not to deviate, brother."

"What is a handful of clients, brother," Genji goaded, spinning toward his brother and gesticulating gallantly, "compared to owning the whole of the Pacific trade? That man is the last major foothold against you; I say we pay him a visit on the high seas. Show him what not to mess with."

His elder brother frowned, "Genji, what of it? Have you not had your fill by now? You were humiliated by the newest crewman aboard that ship. Either you're prepared to have the same thing happen a second time or you're only thinking of revenge, and not our consumers. In any case, I'm in no mind to go off of yours."

"I am thinking of our business, brother!" Genji continued with a wonderous voice, approaching his brother with an excitable show of his hands, "With no Jack Morrison on these seas, your business can only grow- nobody else but that man is stupid enough to challenge your dominance!"

"Perhaps it isn't stupidity, but bravery," Hanzo critiqued, "That fine line works both ways, Genji. I may despise that man, but I respect him; I let you go off and get onto his case simply because I don't have to live with the consequences- namely, your humiliation at the hand of a stumpet at our last shore."

Genji bent low, nearly on bended knee, "But that's the beauty of it, brother! I don't mind being the rabble-rouser! We're partners, right? I do the dirty work and you remain in the background, collecting the profits! You haven't even an ounce of guilt for such things!"

"Brother," Genji went on, lowly, "You've given me more of a life than father ever did. If I must degrade my life for the good of your name, your company, I will gladly do so."

Once again, his sense of honor being stroked, Hanzo was taken aback, merely peering out toward the ocean ahead with a stoic expression, eyes narrowed as Genji rose to his feet, "Think of it this way. You let me do you this service; you gain all the work left in the void of the newest ship to be sent into the deeps. Ebisu, our god of the greatest fortunes will shine upon you as I bear the brunt, which you know I'm fully capable of, should it be in service to my master, Shimada-san."

Hanzo rolled his eyes, turning his head toward Genji with a pithy stare as his brother shrugged, "Besides, dear brother, I heard the Southeast Asian islands are well known for taking in wayward wenches from around the world- some say they've quite the taste for the most exotic of women. Think of the opportunity cost; we miss the deadline by a week or two, lose our bonus, but make it up fifteen-fold with the women aboard that ship! It'll teach that tiny one a lesson, at that- the inbreed."

His fingers curled along the spoke of the wheel's handles, Hanzo's face contorting as his lips curled into a regretful frown.

Hana stomped down the stairs that led down to the hold, her clenched fists shoved jeep into her officer's coat pockets as she bit her tongue lightly, angrily accepting her captain's task of checking in on the stowaway, wearing her coat as if to remind herself of her position, not wanting to give such a thing up simply for being belligerent toward a filthy stowaway. Her cheek was puffed out, concealing a jawbreaker that she had hoped would help her handle the ordeal. The task was simple enough, though it was the principle behind it that bothered her, living her life reviled by so many around her. Being so distant from most other people in this day and age, her countrymen had developed a reputation of secrecy from around the world, leading to accusations similar to the ones that often would seethe from Genji Shimada's mouth whenever she had the ill-fortune of crossing him harborside.

One of the largest reasons she had even bothered stretching her wings was to curtail those very views- her people were not shrouded to protect themselves from the outside world, judging them on various sickly activities. In fact, there was ingenuity in Korea, Hana was well aware, one of her first projects being to reconstruct the legendary hwacha, a rapid-firing artillery weapon that had protected them from the Japanese invasion during the Imjin War. When she designed her first geobukseon at the age of eight, her parents knew she was tapped for ingenuity, and Hana's love for the sea was won.

But now, catering to a bilge rat not worth the lumber she was sitting on, Hana felt so incredibly demeaned. She understood that this resentment was the very reason why she was chosen for such a job, her captain not wanting anybody associating at all with the stowaway, but it still challenged her in a way that she'd never quite been challenged. Even now, heading deeper into the Splitstream, fists tight and pocketed, teeth clenched, she felt nearly as dirty as all the words that she'd collected in the way of insults.

In this frustrated reverie, one could imagine her shock as she came across Angela Morrison of all people, the captain's daughter leaning against the wall of the tight stairway, wrists cuffing one another behind her back as she wagged her foot lazily as though waiting impatiently, her blonde hair swaying only gently as her head turned up to find Hana standing there, Angela's body jutting up to her feet as she spun complete, leaving her superior with a curious glance.

"Officer Song."

"…Angela."

Hana's brow furrowed, "You're not supposed to be down here…"

Angela shrugged, "We're not supposed to normally be harboring stowaways, yet here we are."

The officer bit back the reminder that Angela's swing-vote was the very reason they were harboring such a person, though figured, wisely, not to get on her bad side. Angela was still her captain's father, though it didn't take the sting off completely. Hana watched her warily, immediately catching that Angela was up to something, though she wasn't sure what, instinctively falling back into her introverted shell, waiting until Angela showed her cards first.

Sure enough, experience trumped youth as Angela crinkled her lips innocently, her eyes wandering as she spoke up lightly, "So~… What're you up to?"

"You know damn well what I'm up to," Hana fired back with reserved anger, "I don't know why you're down here, or what you're up to, but I'm not playing any games."

She shot a hand up to grasp the sleeve of her coat, yanking at it, "See these colors? I'm not about to lose these just because I helped someone get on their father's bad-side. Your father is my captain, I don't know if you've forgotten."

"Pfft, what?!" Angela shrugged with outstretched arms, hitting her hand on the wall before recoiling to massage it with her opposing fingers, cringing, "Who's up to something? I just figured we'd have a chat is all."

"Uh huh," Hana nodded sarcastically, not wanting to stick around longer than she had to, "Just let me through, I have to check on the-"

As she took a quick step between Angela and the wall, the captain's daughter suddenly threw her hand out in front of her officer, forcing Hana to jump in surprise before a blush overtook her from embarrassment. Her head turned gradually toward Angela, her face wearing a pithy glare that shot out daggers.

"…girl…" was all she managed to mutter angrily, embarrassed still that she'd been seen so surprised.

Finding the kettle to be much hotter than she'd anticipated, Angela cut to the chase, waving her hands back and forth out in front of her, "L-Look, it was just a proposition, alright? Nothing bad or anything."

A skeptical squint of her eyes followed Hana's movement backward, a mix of confusion and intrigue suddenly confusing her, "Proposition, you say..?"

"Yeah…" Angela nodded smoothly, "You did enjoy that saltwater taffy, didn't you..?"

Hana found her mouth watering for a moment before she caught her wits, recoiling in a shock, "W-Wait! What's your game, Morrison? I don't know where you got that taffy, but that stuff we got in San Francisco was second-rate, and Hawaii's got nothing. That's some rare candy if I ever saw it, the kind that puts a pep in your step; why would you give it up?"

The captain's daughter shrugged, "No reason. I just wanna be the one to check up on the stowa-"

"What?! Why?!" Hana shouted.

Angela answered plainly, "Do I need a reason?"

"Your father's gonna kill you!" Hana retorted in a frenzy, "And then he's gonna kill the one who knew it was going on! Which is me!"

Groaning, Angela rolled her eyes, "Look, I don't give two shits right now what my father says. He taught me, growing up, never to kill, yet I watched him nearly do just that right before me eyes. He always told me to quit doing stupid shit, yet he's up on deck taking bullets to his chest! If he can be stupid and reckless out here on the sea, I don't see why I can't do something as harmless as this."

"Besides," she continued, "I know you hate doing it. I take your place, you don't have to see the stowaway; you simply go along with your day, nothing more to worry you than how much of my entire stock of taffy is left for you. If we keep our mouths shut, how can you lose?"

Slowly, almost like a cat about to pounce, Hana's arms crept up to fold themselves along her chest as she stared critically at Angela, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side. Ever fiber of the back of her mind told her to be the responsible officer she'd been promoted to so long ago, a position that she hadn't thought possible when she first left home. To throw that all away, over a mere stowaway nonetheless, seemed like the most insane thing Hana Song could possi-

"Show me the taffy…"

Angela grinned, pulling the small pouch of taffy from her pocket, handing it over toward her superior officer, whose nose flickered in the stale air of the Splitstream's hull, catching the faintest whiff of the candy.

"I'll give you one on the house, just for being a good sport up until this point," Angela smiled, hiding a grin like a spider weaving its web.

Hana knew she was being manipulated. This single bite of taffy was simply to gain her undying affection for the rest of the stash.

Yet she couldn't resist.

"Oh, alright!" Hana muttered, disappointed in herself, throwing her arm out to snatch away the pouch and pulling it securely into her chest as she lowered her head, ever-protective of the treats inside, her eyes upturned as she resembled something of a trollish gremlin with its prize.

Angela clasped her hands together with a wide smile, "Excellent! Enjoy it, Officer Song!"

Hana hunched over, almost evilly, as she crept back up the stairwell to return to the sunlight that never made it this far down the ship, leaving Angela with a mischievous grin as she spun around as well, her body teetering mightily as she rushed down the stairs, prepared to face her nemesis once again. The stowaway had made a fool of her last time, but Angela wasn't about to lose again.