Chapter 125: Smolbote is Smol

Jane Richardson enjoyed the nights when her dad was busy working. It meant she could stay up as late as she wanted watching television. Which was good, because History Channel was running a week-long Warship: 360 marathon. According to her dad, History Channel had been getting worse and worse until the abyssals attacked, when they suddenly discovered that history made great ratings.

Jane didn't know what to think about that. Besides, she was too busy watching the latest episode of Saratoga: 360 to care. Jane liked Saratoga, which wasn't saying much because she liked all the ships. But still, she had a big pile of the Changing Destiny books by her bed—and even more that she'd loaned out to ship as far as Yokosuka. Jane really wanted to meet Saratoga some day.

And hug her.

She seemed ideal for hugging.

"What do you think?" Jane looked over to her tiny tv companion.

Minimu glanced up from the jumbo-sized marshmallow she'd been attempting to eat for the past hour and a half. So far no progress had been made, the itty-bitty battleship would just smash her face into the giant confectionery and gnaw on it with her tiny teeth for a while, then pull herself away and mumble an angry "MU!" in the hopes of intimidating it into cooperating. And then the process would repeat again to similarly unimpressive results.

Jane giggled, and ruffled the little battleship's short hair with her finger. "I think we have some smaller ones, you know."

"Muu!" Minimu pouted in defiance and shook the giant marshmallow in her hands.

"Do you want some or not?"

Minimu glanced from the marshmellow to the tv then back to the mashmellow, then back to the tv again. Then she sadly let it fall from her teeny hands and slumped her shoulders in defeat. "Muuuuu~"

"I'll be right back!" Jane chuckled and bolted for the kitchen with all the energy of a nine year old who'd been consuming nothing but sugar and sugar-related products while sitting on her butt watching History Channel for the past several hours. Shimakaze didn't have anything on her.

Jane dragged over a stool to check the pantry when she heard a noise. A rustling from the box of two-dozen Krispy Kremes sitting on top of the refrigerator.

And yes, jane did specifically mean a box of donuts.

The littlest Richardson assumed the box had been full at some point, but by the time a very ashamed Arizona arrived at the doorstop, only two were left. Jane had pretended not to notice the guilty look on Arizona's glazing-speckled cheeks. It was her informed opinion as a shipgirl researcher that donuts belonged inside Arizona's tummy. It only made her cuddliest mama-boat that much cuddlier!

Besides, Arizona was clearly happy to be so very full of tasty donuts. And anything that made Ari-mama happy made Jane happy too.

"Hello?" Jane poked the box with her finger. Hmm… she already had an inkling of what had happened, but she wanted to be certain before she got her hopes up.

A tiny noise floated up from the box. It sounded like a very small voice, but it was too muffled by the cardboard to make out. Jane also thought it sounded like someone was trying to speak with their mouth full, but Ari-mama had taught her very clearly that that wasn't a ladylike thing to do.

Jane flipped open the box, and found what could only be described as a smol Arizona. Yes, "smol", not small. This Arizona was barely six inches tall, with little stumpy legs that splayed out on the bottom of the box and little stumpy arms that somehow clung to a donut big enough for her to lounge in.

Interestingly, the only donut left in the box was the one the girl Jane decided would now be known as smolzona was trying to eat. She could've sworn there were two in there last time she checked. "Where did the other one go?"

Smolzona glanced from the tiny nibble marks in her current donut to Jane, then to her itty-bitty feet. "zona," she mumbled.

"I thought so." Jane giggled, and picked up the tiny battleship by the scruff of her neck. Smolzona did not seem amused. In fact, she stared at Jane with tiny impotent rage, but there wasn't much the miniature standard could do. "You know, all that sugar's not good for you!"

"Zona!"

"What about some nice fruit?" Jane held Smolzona in one hand while fishing around in the refrigerator to find some grapes. "There," Jane put the grapes in a bowl. "Much healthier, right?"

Try as she might, Jane couldn't resist the urge to poke Smolzona's tummy like the Pillsbury doughboy. Smolzona giggled, then instantly reverted to staring at Jane in scale-correct annoyance.

Jane just giggled at set the little battleship down inside the bowl while she went looking for marshmallows for Minimu. Smolzona didn't seem to mind, and she was soon nomming her way though a grape like it was a watermelon. But before she could find what she was looking for, the phone rang.

Jane pounced and tore than handset from its cradle with childish energy. "Richardson residence," she said as she fell to the floor with a crash. "Jane speaking."

"Oh, Jane! It's nice to meet you, dess!" Kongou's happy voice was punctuated by the rolling thunder of naval rifles. "Is your father or Mutsu home?"

"No," said Jane. "Dad's at work, and I think so's miss Mutsu." After a moment's pause, she added, "Um… what's that noise?"

Kongou waited until the latest volley of shellfire died down. "Nothing, dess. We're just shelling an island for the Marines."

"Oh," Jane wasn't sure what to think. It made a lot more sense that Kongou would call her during a lull in the action like that, but… Jane had sorta been hoping her friends had been in the middle of an active engagement. That would've been so cool! "Do you need me to take a message?"

"Please, Dess!" said Kongou. "Could you please tell Mutsu that I'm giving up my dibs, dess?"

Jane scribbled it down with the only gel pen she had left. "Giving… Up… Dibs. Okay!"

"She'll know what it means, dess," said Kongou.

"Okay, I'll tell her!"

"Oh, and Jane?"

"Hmm?" Jane idly drew little boats on the notepad.

"Tell Mutsu that if she doesn't have a ring on her finger and a bump on her belly by the time I get back, there will be words, Dess."

Jane giggled. She knew what that meant. "I will!"

Cameron was looking forward to seeing 'Laska in a swimsuit.

Partly because it was 'Laska in a swimsuit. Cameron liked to think he was pretty good about being a proper gentleman around girls, but even the most proper of gentlemen would have to admit that girl had the most perfect body any girl could ever have: All legs and hips and smiles, with just a smidgen up top to round her out.

She would look stunning in any kind of beachwear, although Cameron was quietly hoping she'd go for some variety of bikini. He'd never seen her belly, but from the times they'd cuddled, he could only assume her tummy was of the fit-and-trim variety that'd look stunning in something revealing.

But… for the most part, Cameron was looking forwards to seeing her just because it meant he got to see her. Alaska might be, as established earlier, stunningly hot, but that never seemed to matter when they were together. He could never look at her sashay when her smile was glowing like a lighthouse.

When she laughed it sounded… honestly, the best analogy he could think of was that her laugh sounded like what a dozen fat puppies chasing after a tennis ball looked like. Uncoordinated, inelegant, but bursting with undiluted happiness. That was really 'laska in a nutshell. Not totally sure what she was doing, but having the time of her life getting it done.

"Cameron?" his mother knocked on the half-open door. "You busy?"

"Nah," Cameron spun away from his laptop and bounced to his feet. "You need something?"

"Dishes are done, mind putting them away?" His mother chuckled at the content of his room. The laptop was open to at least two Wikipedia tabs on a certain large cruiser of the US Navy, and what seemed like the entire naval history section of the local library sprawled over his desk. "Light reading?"

"Uh," Cameron blushed, "D-dishes, right?"

"Cam~er~on," his mother teased in the way only a southern mother really can.

"Right…" He coughed. "Uh, she's special. You know?"

"Mmm…" His mother just smiled and tousled her son's hair.

"Mom," Cameron tried to shake her off, but with his earnest blush it didn't really work. "It's… she's a special girl. I… I barely even… She's the kinda girl where you have to put effort in."

"So, high-maintenance?"

Cameron scoffed. He wasn't sure what 'Laska was, other than whatever the most extreme opposite of "high-maintenance" was. You could give her a single hot wheels car and she'd be entertained for hours. It was one of the reasons he was so in love with her, that limitless sense of wonder and joy at even the most mundane of circumstances. "No… I mean… I want to put the effort in."

"Oh, so you're in love," his mother laughed.

"I… yes, mother."

"You know—"

"Mom," Cameron chuckled. "I've heard this story before." It was one of his favorites. Back when they were dating, his dad spend months learning enough Mandarin to sweet-talk his mom. Only afterward did it occur to him that her family was from Hong Kong, and thus the only Chinese she spoke was Cantonese.

"Go get 'er, Cameron."

Cameron coughed something about dishes and bolted to the kitchen as fast as he could.