Chapter 13: Jersey-Sempai
Fubuki hummed to herself as she stepped into the dockyard locker room. It was nice to be able to hum. Yuudachi always wanted to talk, Naka tended to sing to herself, and the Americans… well, Fubuki had yet to take a bath where Johnston and Hoel didn't try to instigate a water fight.
The special-type destroyer pushed those thoughts from her mind as she undressed. The docks were a time for relaxation in warm, sweet-smelling water, not a time to make war! Even if it was pretend.
Making sure her uniform was neatly folded, Fubuki gathered her favorite bath soaps, and her toy aircraft carrier—the one she'd painted up to look like Akagi-Sempai— and stepped into the docks proper.
Warm, wet air tinted with the smells of salt and honey washed over her, making her feel at home. As she walked down the submerged steps, she felt the embrace of the sea wrap around her like a comforting blanket. She barely even made a wake in the glassy smooth water, it felt so good she could almost-
She wasn't alone. Fubuki fell back on her natural destroyer instincts, kicking off the bath floor and building up as much speed as she could while she frantically jinked to throw off return fire.
She got about three yards before she realized what she was doing, and slowly coasted to a stop. "S-sorry," she muttered, sinking down in the water until she felt it lap at her chin. She slowly turned in place, curious as to who was able to surprise her like that, the other girls were so much louder.
Then her eyes went wide, "J-Jersey-Sempai?"
The towering American battleship lay on her back in the corner of the tub, her head propped up against the poolside, and her frustratingly-developed AA suites bulging above the surface in a navy-blue bikini. Her hair was splayed out on the water's surface, forming a glimmering slick around her inert body.
Fubuki looked away, absent-mindedly covering herself as she cursed her rotten luck. Americans always made her feel self-conscious, always insisting on covering themselves in the bath—and having so much to cover! Even Heermann or White could disrupt the tranquility of her bath!
But… Jersey-Sempai?
Fubuki bit her lip, rolling onto her belly and swimming over. She hoped her Sempai wouldn't mind… She seemed so much nicer than the Destroyers, maybe… Jersey wouldn't ask her to change?
"S-sempai?" asked Fubuki, gliding to a halt just before the shimmering slick of strawberry-blond hair surrounding the battleship. "Are you-oh!"
The two kanmusu weren't alone. A tiny fairy in oil-covered blue fatigues stood on the battleship's rippling stomach, her feet shifting every so often to keep on top of Jersey's semi-submerged abs as she breathed in and out. If she noticed Fubuki, the little fairy didn't show it, she was far to focused on her task.
Sitting next to her was miniature air-pump, the same kind that her own fairies used for underwater damage control. A thick rubber hose with electrical cords wrapped around it snaked over the battleship's toned side and slipped into the water.
Fubuki's gaze followed the hose. Then she gasped, her hand flying up to cover her face. A fairy in standard diving dress hung off the battleship's bare skin, a minute diving light in one hand. A damage control fairy. Fubuki'd seen them before, though she'd heard the American damage control was worlds better than her own.
But that wasn't what made her gasp.
Jersey's side was criss-crossed with an ugly, scarred wound. Her skin peeled back to show the substructure underneath. Blackened, twisted metal of torpedo-protection bulkheads gave way to what was unmistakable one of the battleship's boiler rooms. But one that'd been torn apart by the twin winds of enemy fire and a steam explosion.
Electrical cables hung randomly off her bulkheads, sparking intermittently as the damage-control fairy worked her way deeper into the battleship's horrific wound.
"I-I know what did this," breathed Fubuki, staring up at the fairy supervising from Jersey's tummy.
The fairy gave her a confused glance.
"That… that's an Oxygen Torpedo," said Fubuki, forcing her self to lean closer. She wanted to be wrong, begged to be wrong. But it was unmistakable, she'd fired enough of them to know exactly what they did to a ship, even a battleship.
"Jersey-Sempai," breathed Fubuki, sinking down to her chin in the warm water, the battleship's hair tickling at her skin. It didn't make any sense! Jersey wasn't hit like that, not during the war! Fubuki'd made sure to read up on her new Sempai!
The fairy on her belly glanced over at Fubuki, shaking her oversized head with a sad sigh.
No… not during service. This is what killed her.
Fubuki gasped. Kanmusu were colored by their service, but never… never by their wounds. It didn't make any sense! She saw Jersey in combat, she could never have moved like that with a gash in her hull, even if all her boilers were working.
"What?" Fubuki glanced at the fairy, "what do you mean, 'only when she's sleeping'?"
The fairy nodded sadly, dropping to her knees to help the diver up.
Fubuki sat back, the poolside suddenly very cold against her bare skin. When she looked over at Jersey again, the faeries were gone, but the horrible gash on her belly remained, slowly seeping oil in a rainbow-colored plume.
The Destroyer bit her lip, building up courage deep within her machinery spaces. Then, after what felt like hours, she leaned over to rest her head against Jersey's shoulder.
Her Sempai was hurting, she decided. She wasn't going to leave her, not until she woke up.
Uploader's Note: Again, guys, I'm not writing any of this. I've just received permission to host it on FFN. He doesn't have an FFN account, although you can also find this story on Archive of Our Own.