Pennsylvania woke up in the grass. Considering that she had been scuttled, this was something of a surprise. She felt her midriff, where she had felt the phantom pain of her hull tearing, but there was nothing.

Nothing. Whatever this was, it certainly wasn't nothing. She sat up, stretching her arms and legs as she got her bearings. This was most certainly not Bikini Atoll or Kwajalein. Both could go to hell, but they were familiar. This?

Pennsylvania had spent precious little time away from the sea and didn't recognize the place, but that was just the tip of an odd, odd iceberg. She was supposed to be dead. Was dead?

Was this… wherever warriors went? Heaven or Valhalla, perhaps even Hell? (Reincarnation seemed out.)

She brushed some grass off of her skirt and got moving. The meadow she had awoken in was pretty, she supposed, but she felt dangerously exposed, sitting in a sort of dip in the land. What could be over the next crest?

As she walked, she realized she was sans rigging, making her feel even more unprotected than before. Hell, would she even have rigging anymore, after her scuttling?

When she neared the crest of the hill, she bent low, trying to get lost in the grass. It swayed and rasped as the wind blew it, cooling Pennsylvania's skin. The weather was actually quite nice, the sun warm and the breeze sweet…

Focus!

As the grass calmed, she could bear the faint sound of… was that a fiddle? Cheerful music came from just ahead, laughter and joyful cries. Cautiously, she peaked over the top of the hill.

It was a party. Girls danced and spun in the grass, following some upbeat tune that Pennsylvania could only hear faintly. No one kept watch, no one looked towards the sky with fear…

She nearly tripped as she took a step toward them. (Her heels weren't helping.) Was this…? It made a sort of sense, she supposed. All in one place.

With that thought, she scanned with increasing desperation. Nevada and Oklahoma there, the latter resting her head on her sister's shoulders. Somewhere behind them, she could see a pair of twitching ears-

"Penny!"

Her vision snapped to the source of the shout, and she froze. Arizona.

Her sister practically slammed into her, hauling her into an embrace- wasn't that strange, Arizona pulling her around- and cried out again. "Penny!"

"Ari. Oh-" When was the last time she cried? Pearl? Well, she was certainly crying now, fat tears soaking into Arizona's vest.

"It's alright," she cooed. "It's alright." Arizona rubbed her shoulder, and Penn let it out. (She had a feeling she was an ugly crier. Somehow, a bit of Arizona's hair got in her mouth. It should have been mortifying, but- but- she was here.)

After a moment, she began to rise to her feet, all without letting go of her sister.

"It's good to see you again, Penn."

"I… I missed you."

"I missed you too. I'm sorry you were sunk, but…"

"Yeah." Pennsylvania certainly wasn't going to go and complain about sinking now. "Love you."

"Love you too." She laughed. "I wasn't sure how long I was going to wait, you know? Nagato told me you were at Bikini Atoll, but you never showed up!"

"Nagato?" Penny gasped. Arizona gestured behind her, where a crowd had gathered. Penn managed a tough face for a few seconds before she saw the fox ears and started tearing up again.

"Maybe… maybe we should do this one at a time?" Arizona suggested.

Even when they came as a trickle, they were like hammer blows. Even ships she had never met… they were alright. They were fine. The fighting was done, old wounds long since forgotten. Hood and Bismarck took tea while Prince of Wales and Roma bonded over their fates. (No bombers crossed these blue skies. Pennsylvania still checked)

Still, just because it happened before… Penny wouldn't say she was afraid of being introduced, but she didn't imagine that it could go well. She was one of the six who had attacked Fusou and her sister at Surigao. What right did she have to try to forge a friendship?

And yet Arizona was pushing her forwards anyways.

Fusou was beautiful. Somehow, the ears and tails only added to the picture, making her exotic. Well, not when among a mass of her fellows, but it was still a shock to see these features attached to living bodies. The beauty was rather helped by her being alive.

The last time Pennsylvania had seen Fusou, it… wasn't pretty.

Pennsylvania had the vain hope that she might have some moral support, at least, but then Arizona was talking to Yamashiro, and Pennsylvania was left to face her problem head-on.

"Hello, Fusou. I'm-" Could she say she was sorry? Really? Following orders was an excuse- she was furious from Pearl all the way to Leyte. She was on the warpath, practically baying for blood-

"Breathe," Fusou said, hand on her shoulder. "Calm down."

Feebly, Pennsylvania attempted to push away at her arm. She swore she wasn't usually this weak. "Don't."

Fusou smiled again. "You can't make me not forgive you. It's my choice."

"We killed your sister. Killed you."

"And what will getting angry about it do?" Fusou shrugged. "You're already dead, long divorced from whoever gave you those orders."

"But I fulfilled them. I hated you all until Surigao."

"Until Surigao?" Fusou asked, eyebrow raised.

"I saw… I saw the remains. Yours and Yamashiro's." Pennsylvania's voice had become a whisper. "And despite it all, I could see you were sisters."

Fusou took her hand.

"I'm sorry."

It wasn't easy to follow that up, so they just fell into silence. Well, the merriment still carried on, they just didn't add to the noise.

Eventually, Arizona pulled Yamashiro to her feet and left the two of them completely alone, and Pennsylvania asked Fusou a question. "What do you think of this? Fiddler's Green, I mean." Somehow, she knew the name.

Fusou laughed. "It wasn't quite what I expected… but it's certainly enough."

"What did you expect?"

"Something a little more Shinto, frankly."

"Right."

Arizona and Yamashiro were practically stumbling over each other, laughing as they tried to trace the steps of some rapid, spinning dance.

Fusou smiled and rose to her feet. "I've been told half the point of Fiddler's Green is the dancing." She held out her hand.

Penn took it.

Omake:

She collapsed into her seat, having danced until she was sore. "Are… are we it? Just the battleships?" It was a grim thought.

"Not at all. Everyone's here, just spread out a bit. The carriers are a couple of hills over. Ise could show you?"

Fiddler's Green is a sailor's afterlife (or cavalryman's afterlife, according to some) and I just had some sappy forgiveness and happiness to get out of my system.