Chapter 64: A Weapon to Surpass the Ducky
Johnston flopped onto the floor like an underfilled rag doll and scowled at the ceiling tile. "I'm booooored," she whined, her cheeks puckering into a chubby-faced scowl.
"Me too," said Hoel. The flaming-haired fletcher was lying on her belly a few feet away from where Johnston had decided she'd had enough of this newfangled 'standing up' business.
Heermann bounced her pointy little stumps against the steel of her wheelchair. Jersey was busy discussing some Very Important Battlethings with Nagato and the Japanese battleships, Tenryuu and her destroyers were cleaning up after breakfast, and everyone else was packing snacks for the trip home. Even the Major was busy getting his stuff packed for his flight to the mainland.
That left just her and her sisters to entertain themselves. Nobody else to play with.
Heermann smiled as a thought crossed her mind. There wasn't anybody else to play with… or supervise. "Hey."
"What?" Johnston glanced over, her feathers going everywhere as they scrubbed against the hotel lobby carpet.
"I have an Idea," Heermann grinned.
"What kind of idea?" said Hoel. For a second, it looked like the flaming-haired destroyer was putting on the level-headed sternness befitting a division leader. And then her cheeks puckered in a toothy grin.
"Well…" Heermann slipped a package of sky-blue gel out from under her leg and tossed it to her sister. Or rather, at her sister.
Johnston giggled as the package bounced off Hoel's noise with a quiet Spusrsh. Hoel didn't even try to catch it, not that she could with her arms pinned under her own body. Instead, the destroyer just caterpillar-crawled a few inches closer so she could read the writing. "Hot or Cold," she read, "versatile insulated gel-pack."
"It's like ice," explained Heermann, "but from the future."
"Ooh!" Johnston bolted over to examine the fancy new artifact from The Future alongside her sister. "I love the future!"
"Look!" Hoel inched a bit closer and squished the gel with her nose. "Heh… that almost tickles."
Johnston looked like she couldn't decide if she wanted to play with the gel pack or somehow worship it. "So… now what?"
"Well…" Heermann wheeled herself over with a clatter of oiled bearing and welded metal beams. "I was thinking we could stick it in the microwave?"
Hoel blinked. "Why?"
Johnston slapped her sister. "We're destroyers. We don't ask that question."
"Ow!" Hoel rubbed at the back of her skull. Then she shrugged. "Okay, point taken."
"Wheel me over, minions!" Heermann threw her little fist out in the general direction of the microwave.
"Wheeling!" cheered Hoel as she took up position astern her wounded sister.
"I, Johnston," Johnston puffed out her chest, "Will carry The Future!" The destroyer abruptly shoved the cold pack down her shirt and tucked it into her bra. "Lookit!" she put on a dour scowl and clamped her hands to her chest, "Who am I?" she asked as she squeezed.
"Lewd," said Hoel.
"Aww, you guys are no fun," Johnston's scowl morphed into a pout as she sheepishly formed up astern of her sister.
"I thought you didn't want to escort miss Musashi," said Heermann.
"Well… yeah… in battle," Johnston pulled the ice pack out of her shirt. Or at least tried to… she'd really jammed it in there. "I, uh… little help?"
Hoel sighed and turned to help her sister.
"Anyways," Johnston continued like her sister wasn't trying to extricate a gel pack from her shirt, "I didn't wanna get distracted in battle, because… woo…" She bounced her eyebrows with a smirk.
"Lewd," sighed Heermann.
"You little pervert," sighed Hoel. "What would Musashi if she heard you talking like that?"
"Who cares," Johnston shrugged, "We're destroyers. We're not gonna live long enough for her to catch us."
Heermann nodded.
"First thing you've said that makes sense." Hoel smiled as she finally managed to yank her sister's impromptu bra stuffing out. "How long do we stick this in for?"
"Well…" Heermann squinted at the microwave's display. "There's a setting for frozen vegetables."
"Oooh, let's do that!" Johnston clapped her hands together with an evil grin.
"That sounds good!" echoed Hoel. She placed the off-blue packet into the microwave with reverent care.
Johnston closed the door and Heermann punched the "Frozen Vegetable" button. Then the three destroyers sat back to listen to the gentle hum of the microwave as it did its future magic.
"Morning, girls."
The three destroyers turned as one to locate the source of the noise.
"Oh, hi, Major!" Heermann tossed a lazy wave at the uniformed soldier.
"Heya!" said Hoel.
"MMMMMAJOR!" Johnston threw herself at the soldier's midsection with all her Fletcher-class strength. Her arms closed around his waist in a tight hug and she all but buried her face in his stomach. For a second, she just squeezed him tight, then she glanced up and chirped out a perky, "hi!"
Solette coughed. "Uh, hi," He took a quick sip of his coffee. "What're you girls up to?"
"We're playing a new game!" Johnston let go of the Major to bounce back over to the microwave.
"It's called, 'What Happens When I Microwave This'?" said Hoel.
"We stuck one of those ice-packs in there!" Heermann's little chest puffed out with pride at her ingenuity.
Solette blinked. "You did wha-"
The microwave's chime cut him off.
"Oh, it's done!" Hoel smiled as she threw open the door. For an instant the gel pack justsat there, like it wanted the girls to marinade in their own stupidity before it swiftly and explosively demonstrated why some things just shouldn't be microwaved.
Then it exploded, sending sticky blue gel flying everywhere. Mostly in Hoel's face.
Solette sighed and took a sip of his coffee. This wasn't happening. He was just a detached observer watching three destroyer girls suddenly and pointedly reenact the famous saying 'curiosity killed the cat.'
"AHHHH!" Hoel let out a shriek, "I REGRET THIS DECISION!"
Solette took a long sip of his coffee before allowing himself to react to this situation. The sad thing is, this wasn't even in his top fifty weirdest shipgirl encounters. "Hoel?"
"YES?" The destroyer girl yelped at him while frantically clawing at her face.
"You're made of steel."
Hoel froze. Then a dopey smile crested on her face and she let her hands fall to her side. "Oh yeah!" she giggled, "Thanks, Doc!"
"HA HA HA!" Johnston collapsed to a puddle of laughter and quivering feathers.
Heermann's face split into a toothy grin as Hoel furiously scrubbed the hot goo off her face with her own neckerchief. "You're so smart, sis!"
"Shut up."
"Y-yeah," Johnston had to choke the words out between peals of uncontrollable laughter. "I- I see why you're the flagship."
"SHUTUP!" Hoel's fists were balled by her sides as she howled at her sisters. "IT'S- IT'S NOT FUNNY!" she said with a giggle. "Okay, it was kinda funny."
"Never tell Jersey," said Heermann.
Hoel and Johnston offered solemn nods. Or at least Hoel did, Johnston was too busy squirming on the floor laughing to offer anything more dignified than a frantic bob of her head.
"Major?" Heermann glanced over to the soldier.
"I see No-think!" said Solette in his best Sgt. Schultz impression.
—|—|—
"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me," The sweet, almost musical tones of Akagi's voice filtered though the patter of warm saltwater splashing against clean white tile and naked shipgirl.
"Mmhm," Jersey nodded, but she didn't bother to open her eyes. A warm shower felt so damn relaxing against her bare skin… hull… whatever. The water splashing around her felt almost as good as a blanket, or a nice puddle of sleeping destroyers. Almost. "I'll meet you there in a few."
"You sure?" Jersey could just picture the way Akagi wrung her hands. The way those hazel-gray eyes glowed with care as she looked over the lean American. But Jersey didn'tactually look. She was going to enjoy the contentment her shower was giving her, and she wasn't going to let any inexplicably top heavy carriers spoil it for her.
"Yeah," Jersey waved Akagi off. "Just got a lotta ship to scrub."
Akagi let out a little laugh, then the sound of her sandals clacking against the tile faded into the distance.
Jersey took a deep breath and held it. Her muscles tensed as the image of Heermann bleeding out into the frigid Bering sea thrust itself unbidden into her mind. Her stomach clenched, bracing itself for a blow as the battleship felt her hands ball into fists.
"No," whispered Jersey. Her hand snaked up her body until her fingers kissed the gash on her cheekbone. The reminder Victory had lent her. Never give up. Never give in. She'd failed. She'd failed so miserably. But now she was back. Now she'd earn her redemption. At least… that was the plan anyway.
The battleship opened her eyes and met her own icy-glare reflected in the clean white tile. Her hair was slick against her skull, her skin flush from the heat of the water. The nick on her cheek gleamed like fresh-cut steel, and her teeth gleamed in a ragged grin. "Thanks, you old limey fuck."
For a second, just a second, Jersey thought she heard a voice whisper a response back. But all she caught was one word. "Wanker."
Her grin grew lopsided as she let out a quiet chuckle. "Language, Viccky."
Silence was her response.
Jersey just shrugged. She had shit to do anyway. Shit like the real reason she'd waited until she was alone to finish her shower. She didn't like changing around the Japanese girls. They were entirely too… lewd for her own liking—and that was before the whole "overstacked Pagodas" problem. Last Jersey checked, Asian girls were supposed to be flat.
But the real reason Jersey wanted to change alone was… well… getting dressed wasn't the easiest thing in the world for her. She could manage her shorts just fine, and she could even tie her shoes blindfolded.
But squeezing herself into her crimson sports bra took her a few tries to get right. It wasn't very appropriate for a Lieutenant Commander in the United States Navy, even one who'd only been a girl for the past few months.
Still, she was an American battleship. She didn't give up. Ever. "Fuck you, bra," she mumbled as she pulled the garment in question over her head. After a few minutes of tugging, adjusting, cursing, more tugging, even more cursing, and a little squeezing, the battleship managed to get herself nicely contained.
Suddenly, Kongou's outfit choices made so much more sense. Or as much sense as something with those sleeve… thingies could. At least the rest of Jersey's outfit went on without much fuss. It only took her a few minutes to get back to fleet-review ready, complete with her mirrored aviators and the proper rakish tilt to her BB-62 ballcap.
"Well…" Jersey clapped herself on the thighs as she gave herself a final once-over in the mirror, making sure all her careful adjustments had paid off. Once she was satisfied, the battleship ducked through the door and into the hotel proper. Now she just needed to find someone, someone she rather desperately needed to talk to.
After a few minutes of jogging around the corridors with her head on a swivel, she found her target. He was all bundled up in a bright blue sweater with his hands clutching a mug of—Jersey sniffed—apple cider. "Yo," Jersey waved as she came to a stop, "Jake Lee, right?"
The Alaskan pivoted on his heel to glance up at the towering battleship. "Yeah, what's up, Jersey?"
"Um…" Jersey bit her lip. Fuck, this all seemed so much easier in her head. "Look, uh… I know we eat a lot. And, uh… it couldn't have been hard to put us up on such short notice." The battleship shoved her hands into her shorts pockets and pursed her lips. "But you guys pulled out all the stops. So thanks."
Lee shrugged as his face flushed a brilliant crimson. "Hey, what else were we gonna do?"
"Well," Jersey shrugged in return. "I just wanted to say thanks. The, uh…" she fished a flag out of her pocket. A ragged, scorch-marked flag folded into an impeccable triangle. "The only way I know how." Jersey blinked under her shades as she offered the flag. There must be… dust… or something in the air because she was not fucking crying.
Lee just glanced from Jersey to the flag and back again.
"It's, uh… it's my battle flag," said Jersey, "What I flew when I put that ice-bitch down with Mushi."
"Jersey, I-"
"I want you to have it." The battleship felt streaks of something wet and salty run down her cheeks. Her vision was getting blurry as her ice-blue eyes started to melt. "Please."
Lee took the flag and held it close against his chest. "Thank you."
"Yeah," Jersey sniffed, her eyes blinking a hundred times a minute to try and abate the flood of tears suddenly welling up inside her.
"Are…" Lee squinted at his own reflection in Jersey's shades. "Are you-"
"I'm not crying," said Jersey as tears trailed down her face.
"But-"
"Bilge… pumps…" said the battleship. "Or something. Not crying. I'm a ship."
"But you're-"
"Not crying."
Lee rolled his eyes. "Fine, you're not crying." He glanced at the flag cradled close to his heart. "Thanks. For everything, Big J."
Jersey smiled. "My pleasure."
—|—|—
Teruzuki knew she wasn't dreaming. Mostly because, even in her wildest dreams, she'd never imagined this much food even existed, let alone that it'd be all available in one place. The skinny destroyer had intended on filling her small Tupperware set—her single most prized possession—with some of that hearty American gravy and bacon. It was tasty,it looked like it'd travel well, and Teruzuki was pretty sure it was the most nutrition-dense stuff she'd be able to take home with her.
But no plan survives first contact with the enemy. The destroyer hadn't gotten pastopening the dining room doors when a smiling, silver-haired woman who looked about Houshou's age suddenly appeared holding a huge cellophane-wrapped tray. Teruzuki wasn't sure what was in the tray, but she knew it smelled more delicious than anything the destroyer had ever encountered.
"Wha-what is this?" stammered Teruzuki as the old woman foisted off the steaming dish with a huge smile on her weathered face.
"Casserole, dear," said the woman, "It'll put some meat on those bones!"
Before Teruzuki could even ask just what a 'casserole' was, the woman was replaced by another, equally old woman bearing something that made Teruzuki's mouth water.
"Scalloped potatoes," explained the woman as she shoved her offering into the destroyer's arms, "My grandson loves them."
And so the process continued. Teruzuki would manage a step or two, then another smiling grandmother would swoop in to offload another mouth watering dish on the overwhelmed destroyer. Her mind could barely keep up with everything that was going on, it took every shred of mental acuity she had left just to put one foot in front of the other.
"Oh!" Akagi waved at Teruzuki from across the room. Her cheeks bulged with… something, her eyes were half-lidded in bliss, and there was a silver-haired woman smiling at her from behind a large bowl of some kind. "Comh heh!"
Teruzuki dutifully made her way over to Akagi as quickly as she could with a mountain of food bigger than she was balanced preciously in her arms.
"Hey there, little one," said the silver-haired woman.
"K-konnichiwa," stammered out Teruzuki as she dumped her load of food onto the table. The woman behind the table abruptly shoved a bulging ziplock bag of cookies into the destroyer's now-vacant arms.
Teruzuki blinked. She'd seen cookies before—usually the ones Kongou made for tea time—but never anything that looked quite like this. The golden-brown cookie was dotted with little… brown… dots. "Um…" Teruzuki glanced over at the old woman, "what are these?"
"Cholah chu coohkeh," said Akagi with a beaming smile.
The old woman laughed. "Chocolate chip cookies," she translated. "Try one."
Teruzuki blinked, then glanced down at her bag of cookies. "I- I couldn't," she mumbled.
The old woman sighed. "This again, huh?"
Akagi offered a sheepish shrug.
"Little one," the old woman smiled a warm, grandmotherly smile at the little destroyer girl, "I'll be very offended if you don't eat that cookie."
"Oh," said Teruzuki with a timid smile. She wanted to save her snacks for her friends back home. The battleships probably deserved it more anyways. But if it meant offending her host… Teruzuki would do her duty. She carefully opened up the bag and picked a cookie—the smallest one she could find—and turned it over in her hand.
The dough was still warm and soft. So soft it almost melted in her hand before she even got a chance to bring it close to her mouth. The little brown spots were sticky and soft to the touch, and they left little smears on Teruzuki's hand whenever she touched one.
"Eah ihh," said Akagi with a thumbs up.
Teruzuki carefully slipped the cookie into her mouth and bit down. And almost collapsed to her knees. An explosion of flavor and pleasure roared from her mouth straight to her stomach. The dough was soft and warm, the chocolate sweet and gooey. It was everything Teruzuki imagined a cookie would taste, only more. "I… I… thank you!"
The old woman just smirked. For a minute, she made a show of looking around to ensure there weren't any prying eyes watching. Then she slowly bent down until she was just a few inches from the little destroyer girl. "Between you and me," she stage-whispered. "The best part is the dough."
"The… dough?" Teruzuki tilted her head with a confused look.
The old woman tilted the bowl she'd been holding until Teruzuki could see the sticky golden-brown mixture resting on the bottom. And then she handed the girl a spoon.
—|—|—
Fubuki blinked and sat back on her haunches. Her bed was only half-made, but… she suddenly had something much more enticing then tidying up her room. "What was that?"
Yuudachi spun on her heel to face her roommate, her long blond hair and equally long white scarf spinning with her to nearly smack her in the face. "What was what, poi?"
"That sound," said Fubuki. The destroyer rested her hands on her hips as she admired her handiwork. "It… it sounded like someone squealing, but then it shifted into ultrasonic."
"Oh, that!" Yuudachi cupped a hand over her ear, holding an imaginary pair of headphones as she listened to her hydrophone set. "It sounded like a squealish sound."
Fubuki narrowed her eyes as her roommate.
"Poi?" offered Yuudachi.
Fubuki shrugged. "I'll ask Naka-chan about it later."
"Good idea, poi." Yuudachi flung her scarf over her shoulder with a grin, "She, like… knows everything." The destroyer girl smiled at her own insight and nodded sagely to nothing in particular.
Fubuki rolled her eyes, but even she couldn't keep a smile from crossing her face. "Hey, Yuudachi-chan?"
"Hmm?"
"You look really cute in that scarf."
"Really?" Yuudachi spun around to admire herself in the mirror. "I thought- do you think I should wear it more… regularlyish?"
"Yeah!" Fubuki offered a thumbs up to her air-headed fellow destroyer. "You'd look really cool!"
"Thanks!" Yuudachi spun on her heel and pounced at Fubuki, tackling her in a warm hug. "Pooooooooi!"
Fubuki giggled and returned the hug as best she could with a happy Yuudachi pinning her arms above the elbows. "You're welcome! Now hurry up, we're going to be late for formation."