In the southern footholds of the Republic of Korea, the United States Navy was hard at work. No sooner had one chapter of history ended than another one began, this time with an old spectral menace at the helm. Having recently quashed the ambitions of Imperial Japan, America now faced off Communism and its ideological vessel the DPRK in the Pacific. It was hard honest work to be sure, but all the same many a spirit was excited at the prospect of stretching her legs and being in the midst of the action again.

Of course, it wasn't just their fight. Nations far and wide came to aid the beleaguered Koreans and their navy. For instance, the United Kingdom was in the process of sending a force to assist in the recovery of South Korean territory, and other Commonwealth nations were following suit.

But of these naval reinforcements, Japan would probably be last in the list as a prospective contributor. With the end of World War II, the Japanese Navy was no more, having been succeeded by a tiny collection of maritime vessels for self-defence. True, Japan was in close proximity to the mainland, but such an interaction would seem…awkward, to say the least.

Yet there she was, an old rusting hulk at anchor in the port of Busan, silently protecting and housing the Japanese contingent in Korea as well as directing the smaller land vessels ashore. In her sorry state and stationary role, the steamer wasn't going to be ordered anywhere anytime soon. Not that she personally minded; it had been a long time since she had weighed anchor in Korean waters, and she was looking forward to enjoying the city landscape in her decades-long absence.

It was said that the Republic of Korea had gotten the short end of the stick when the partition came, with few resources and mostly manpower to guide the nation's development. The war effort certainly did the ROK few favors in that regard; the streets were filled with refugees seeking asylum from the combat to the far north. Nevertheless, there was a certain charm to the atmosphere. The people were anxious but full of hope; the various shantytowns and struggling businesses seemed like the zaibatsu she had heard so much about back home.

Actually…were the zaibatsu still around? Did they even peddle power anymore?

All that salt from many years at sea was starting to addle her brain…

"Oooooiiiii, ooooiiiiiiiiiii!"

Tooooooooooooooooooooot. Tooooooot.

The steamship nearly jumped at the sight before her. In front of her very eyes was a pair of monstrously large and monstrously long warships, their spiritual incarnations greeting each other in passing.

"Long time no see, sis."

"I've been quite busy in my duties. The northern Koreans are dug in pretty well, and it's up to me and my sixteen-inch shells to weed them out."

Sixteen-inch shells? She let out a low whistle in awe. Only an ignorant fool would have never heard of the Yamato sisters, a trio so potent and so well-armed they were supposedly their own "fleet-in-being," but only a select few ever had the honor of seeing them, let alone working with one. Unfortunately, those fortunate few were now at the bottom of the ocean, or too far away to ever enrich her life of tales about their adventures.

Perhaps the two were there when the Yamato sisters were vanquished. Perhaps they quietly trembled in fear at the mere sound of one sortieing out. For all intents and purposes however they were as close to seeing Yamato in the flesh as she could possibly get, and she was willing to let her imagination run wild. The loud friendly one with strawberry blonde hair was undoubtedly the "Yamato" of the duo, while the martial newcomer to the right was undoubtedly "Musashi."

"Bagged any Commies?"

"Hmmm…" 'Musashi' put her hands to her lips thoughtfully. "Hard to say; it was long-ranged bombardment. I came back her for patrols and to resupply, then I'm heading back out into the fray."

"Well, fuck them in the eyes I say, and watch out for those rocks!" 'Yamato' burst out into mad-laughter as 'Musashi' turned redder than her sister's hair.

"That was once, okay? I was just trying to follow protocol-"

"Did SecNav himself come before you in a dream and tell you to hump those rocks dry?" 'Yamato' snarked. "In all honesty though, sis, I'm glad you're okay. It could have ended a lot worse for you and your bow."

Her bow? She strained eyes to gain a closer look, but unfortunately her civilian design prevented her from discerning any concrete features. All she saw was a very, very, very round button nose. Handsome, but otherwise nothing of note.

There was something soothing about the revelation that a majestic of a warship such as 'Musashi' had had her own fair share of awkward incidents. It reminded her of a time when she was greener and younger. She had just come out of the docks when, well…

"Are you okay?" the ocean liner screeched, shaking her furiously like a doll. "Are you OKAY?"

"I'm fine," she groaned, doing her best not look down.

"Are YOU OKAY?"

"I'm fine."

"ANSWER ME OR I SWEAR BY NEPTUNE'S BEARD I WILL MAKE YOUR VOCAL CORDS SING."

"I'm FINE!" she roared. "Or, as fine as a ship that just took a surprise penetration mid-ships can be."

"I'm really sorry…" the ocean liner whimpered. "I was in a hurry, and I didn't see you and oh god oh GAWD I made a huge gash in your—"

"JAPAN! It's FINE!" There was an awkward silence as she tried brushing her hands nonchalantly. "Just stay put; it's already a done deal, everything is under control, just let the humans work everything out—"

"So do you want me to pull out?"

"No."

"Let me start reversing my engines."

"Nah, I'm good. You stay put."

"Who knows, maybe it's just a scratch-let me see—"

"I think that doing so is less than ideal."

"Give me a second, the crew are stopping to assess the damage but if I focus hard enough I think I can—"

"JAPAN! Are you TRYING tah turn me into this into the next Camperdown incident for fook's sake? Just calm the hell down, and let the humans do their—"

Blub. Blub.

That didn't sound good.

"I made a mistake!" Japan bawled. "Let me pull you back to port!"

"Oi, you there! Granny boat!" 'Yamato' snapped as the two Americans detected the laughing Japanese spirit in the background.

"The fuck is so funny? Get a move on, will you? There are landing troops to transport, Americans to support, Commies to kill, and Koreans needing saving!"

AN: As you probably guessed, "Yamato" is actually New Jersey and "Musashi" is Missouri. As the ship spirit never worked with Yamato and Missouri, I like to imagine that she internalized how Yamato and Musashi would have looked according to the appearances of the Iowa sisters, both physically and spiritually.