It took longer than I'd like to get this chapter to a coherent state.
Hope you enjoy :D
Chapter 2 – Sea trials
US_PACOM and AL_PACOM have a bit of a rivalry.
Ever since the founding of Azur Lane, the regular US navy has had to share Pearl, and cede much of the positive media attention to us, in addition to the title of 'world's largest navy'. Naturally, they did not take this offence lying down.
Due to the continued secrecy around wisdom cube technology, the politicians felt it was prudent to keep KANSEN away from human civilians wherever possible, so the result was that AL_PACOM was built on the rather isolated Waipi'O peninsula, across to the west of Ford Island. The drive from our HQ to either Hickam or US_PACOM HQ was about 30 minutes on a good day, and easily an hour to Honolulu, which meant Maître avoided going over like the plague.
Perhaps the USN intended this gross inconvenience to be their way of getting petty revenge. What command didn't realize was that we KANSEN generally enjoyed the extra distance, and whenever Maître needed to go over, one of our destroyer girls could just give him a ride across the harbor, cutting the travel time in half.
It was usually Laffey. Assuming she was not sleeping. There was usually an open berth at pier Y-3B right alongside Laffey street. Not hard to imagine why.
The only real consequence was all the civilian overland delivery drivers coming to our base had to go the extra miles. Literally.
The point is, AL_PACOM was Azur Lane's biggest base anywhere in the world. While the Siren war has since moved on to the Atlantic, our most important labs, dorms, and offices remain in Pearl. Specifically, the PR lab drydocks were here, where I was built - the only problem being, the other set of memories I now have of being launched from Saint-Nazaire back in 1941.
After explaining my skill upgrades to Maître, he ordered me to run a set of sea trials – standard practice for anyone post-retrofit - which included Fate simulation as well. I knew well what was required, since I processed those very same fate sim reports for the other PR girls. This meant I now had time to work through my thoughts alone while at sea.
Hopping off from the docks, I made my way due south in rigging form out from the mouth of Pearl Harbor, and then summoned my hull once a safe distance away. The trials would involve a five-hour round trip to Kaho'olawe, the island designated for gunnery practice, and I would be back in time for dinner.
For short trips around the Hawaiian Islands, solo sorties were perfectly normal, assuming we were back before sundown. The USAF kept constant overwatch from Hickam so there was no perceived risk of any siren ambush around here. Further out in the open ocean, mass-produced Siren fleets could be encountered here in the Pacific, and escorts would be required, but today none of that is needed.
…
›› Loading preset…
›› Kaho'olawe trials selected…
›› Course set.
›› Engine boost activated.
5 hours? Let's see if I can finish in 4.
It was a beautiful day here in Hawai'i, as it usually is. Crystal turquoise waters parted before my bow, churning up into a long foamy wake. A gentle see breeze caressed my mast, and flocks of seagulls glided by on the thermals. My weather radar has picked up a storm cloud a few hours out, and the latest forecast from Hickam confirms it – a rainy storm icon flanked by two suns populated the top right of my HUD.
Typical island weather. The storm would come, dump its waters over the island, and be gone with the wind before you knew it.
No matter.
From just outside my fire control bridge, I could simply lay back on my conning tower roof and soak up any excess heat that radiates off the steel. Human bodies' heating systems are so inefficient, and… owing to my recent thermal regulation malfunctions, I tend to just leave it turned off.
Maître, do I make a good impression of Le Malin right now?
My predictive module did not return an answer.
…
As the shores of Honolulu disappeared into the distance behind my port side, I decided to distract myself by taking care of my missed emails and DMs.
Open unread emails.
The port newsletter, an open invitation to a movie night, my last resupply receipt – those were always late, an advertisement from the green cat, newsletter again, and updated terms of service from Juusta. Nothing mission sensitive would be in the emails, those go through command first before coming to us.
As for the messages…
The POLARIS group chat was up to its usual shenanigans. Ever since the new idol groups were formed, Astrum and Verheerender, Hipper has been complaining to the rest of us about producing a new single.
Of course, she conveniently forgets that POLARIS was never a real idol group. We were referred to as such for a while, but in truth, we were just a band put together by the Azur Lane public relations department to produce a single PV. Akagi was only interested in getting Maître's attention, Sheffy is usually away on MI6 business, and Cleveland has no shortage of work playing drums for San Diego's performances.
As a result, Hipper complains to me.
Frequently.
I first suggested she could just record some public domain songs in Deutsch. She said she didn't just want to cover classics like Erika, something something too embarrassed to actually sing them in front of others. I eventually relented and agreed to cover another modern pop song, so as to not get outshone by those 'idols'. So now we (remotely) get together for weekly practice at Hipper's behest.
The far more concerning message, however….
Richelieu:
| Chère sœur,
| Tu me manques.
| Jeanie aussi.
| Comme tel, je vous invite aux vacances en famille pour la saison de Noël.
| Amenez Champagne avec vous svp. :prayer emoji: Elle m'a fait ghosté ?
Sigh.
Jeanie was a nickname started by Dunkerque. Jean finds it 'embarrassing', so naturally Richelieu started using it. I still don't quite understand.
›› Dear sister, I miss you. Jeanie does too. As such, I am inviting you to a family vacation this Christmas season. Please bring Champagne with you. She is ghosting me.
›› Translation module addendum: "ghosting" (inf. to ghost) is a contemporary English loanword. View definition? (Y/N)
Hypothesis: If sister Richelieu stopped being so formal in texts, then maybe she would not be ghosting you.
…
I should respond before she sends another one. This message is three days old already.
Family relationships between KANSEN are often unusual, especially for those who never got to sail together in the past. As far as I knew, Richelieu, Jean Bart, and Clemenceau are all based out of AL_EURCOM, but there were rumors that Jean might have been deployed to the Caribbean more recently. Generally, we aren't allowed to share our location unless through official channels, but there are plenty of ways to guess with reasonable accuracy.
Having a family where two out of five sisters are PR ships certainly complicates things. Some in the navy even argue that Champagne and I are different subclasses, but that's something for the design bureau to figure out. Since launching in Pearl, I have only met my elder sisters once. It was a formal event where they poked and prodded at me, and I did not know how to respond. An unhandled exception. On the other hand, Champagne was only launched earlier this year, yet she became much closer to Laffey and Shinano than my sisters in Europe, so her reaction to Richelieu's invitation was predictable.
I composed a reply, asking Richelieu for more details, but I was too far away from land to get an internet connection. Juustagram has not been made LFR compatible (nor any radio protocol for that matter), much to the dismay of many girls in the fleet. The message will be queued for when I returned to base.
Losing myself in my thoughts again, my cognitive threads turned to reflecting on my now completed fate simulation. It was a peculiar feeling, something that my emotion module failed to comprehend. I know I now have memories of life in the 40's, of serving the republic together with my sisters. I have memories of my crew, my captain, the battles I fought, and the scars I bore, of my ultimate demise. Yet here I stand, pristine, with no record of my service in any records of history, those false memories fading like a phantom under the tropical sun.
It does not compute.
Before starting my fate sim, I hypothesized that it might have been the key to fixing my defects, but each time I came out, the logic errors only compounded, and I only malfunctioned more around Maître.
The first-generation PR ships came through fate sim just fine. Just look at Roon! She's practically sane now. My own gen-mates, Seattle, Georgia, Kitakaze; none of them reported any issues.
Why was I always the odd one out?
›› No results found.
›› Suggestion: run system diagnostics?
The same result. Not that I expected an answer.
…
Champagne won't receive her fate sim for another year. But they say it's different for ships like her. I would have been laid down, but she was never approved. My new memories don't include her, but her memories won't need to include any of us. That's what happened to Georgia – another up-gunned variant of an existing class of four.
…
I could not resolve these inconsistencies. I only know that Maître approved these changes to me, so I shall accept and obey.
…
›› Navigation: Waypoint reached.
›› Navigation: Destination Kaho'olawe in 24km and closing.
›› Navigation: Rudder 15deg starboard.
›› System warning: Fuel reserves are below 20%, please refuel at the next available port.
I glance at the clock in the corner of my vision.
It really has been 100 minutes already.
Engine boost is still holding up. Steam pressure steady. Good to continue.
The mostly barren island was now clearly visible from my rangefinders. A brown-green patch of land rising from the waves, its surface littered with craters after decades of abuse. Records show there was a push for the USN to relinquish control of the island to the civilian government in the 90's, but then the Sirens showed up again and that proposal evaporated.
I open the radio comms and dial it to the AL channel. My networking module activates and takes care of the rest.
[Attention: MN Gascogne of AL_PACOM… Requesting permission to commence scheduled live-fire exercise on Kahoʻolawe.]
…
The plans were already submitted before I left base. No problems.
[Granted. Gascogne you are cleared for sector seven. I repeat, sector seven.]
It was Helena. Rare to see her back at Pearl.
[Copy that.]
…
›› Navigation: Rudder 15deg port.
Flight control, launch spotters.
›› Launching floatplane 1…
All guns, load HE.
›› Main battery turret I-left loading, I-right loading, II-left loading, II-right loading….
›› 28
›› 27
›› Secondary battery loading…
›› 12
›› 26
›› 11
›› …
The Loire 130 had circled around and now climbed to 60 meters. It was not a great plane, but it got the job done. I willed my perspective to the aerial view and inspected the practice target. I was now moving due southeast with the island to my 10 o'clock. Sector 7 was on the south side of the island, so I would be shooting indirectly until I got closer.
›› Target locked. Range: 23976 meters.
Main battery loaders, queue SAP. Fire!
›› 28
›› 27
The overpressure shockwave rocked me backwards, but I was expecting it, my hull rolling slightly to dissipate the energy. Shell flight time at this range should be just under 70 seconds. I wasted no time reacquiring the practice target.
›› Target locked. Range: 23432 meters.
Main battery loaders, queue AP. Fire!
Rinse and repeat. My fire control module did the rest.
›› Target locked. Range: 22890 meters.
Main battery loaders, queue HE. Fire!
BOOM!
Not ten seconds later, my first HE salvo landed, spewing a pattern of fire and soil into the air.
Dispersion could be better, but at this range, it is within specifications.
Queue next mixed salvo for 16000 meters. Recall floatplane. Initiate air defense simulation.
›› Loading AR anti-aircraft simulation pattern C…
›› Loading assets…
Right on cue, my transmission moved into full reverse, cutting my speed from 35 knots to 10 and slowing. Most importantly, this refused the wake along my sides to almost zero. The Loire 130 proceeds to loop around once and touched down on my starboard side, immediately hooking into the waiting crane which had been extended in preparation.
Rapid floatplane recovery. It was a common maneuver among KANSEN, but it was hard on the aircraft and far too risky for any human pilot to attempt while the ship is moving in excess of 5 knots. Of course, the USN could count on their carriers for air superiority against other human navies, but for us against the Siren, bringing your own air spotting is critical.
Without the need for lifeboats, I originally had an abundance of space amidships between my masts. Maître initially asked the design bureau for more secondary mounts to fill that space, but then the Muse system was revealed, and I was fitted with the Muse resonator hub instead. There was still enough room to operate the cranes and stack floatplanes on top, but the Muse gear is rather exposed to enemy fire.
There would be another few minutes before the simulated bombers would show up on my air search radar. Enough time to accelerate back up to flank speed forwards.
According to my diagnostics, my AA efficiency should have increased to 92% from the fate sim. Let's find out if that holds up in practice.
›› Assets loaded.
›› Starting simulation…
You rule over the surging sea; when its waves mount up, you still them.
Psalm 89:9
My AA simulation concluded with a score of 90% efficiency. Down 2% from predicted specifications.
One of the nice things about being based in Pearl is the large surplus of US made anti-aircraft guns. Maître orders nearly every KANSEN in PACOM to be fitted with quad 40mm Bofors and twin 20mm Oerlikons, which has proven to be the best KANSEN compatible mid and short-range AA we have, respectively. Not that these do much to true Siren aircraft, but they are more than capable of taking on mass-produced carrier strike groups.
My recent records include a funding proposal for implementing a KANSEN compatible twin 57mm/60 Bofors mount, which had landed on Maître's desk some months ago. It was the preferred mid-range AA mount of choice on Marine Nationale ships after my time, but the researchers say manufacturing the KANSEN compatible version is turning out to be very expensive. Maybe I could ask Jean about it when we meet next. She was supposed to have used them in the 50's.
I closed to within 16, 12, 9, and 6km of the Kahoʻolawe shore, and unleashed three full broadsides each time, secondaries and all. All well-practiced motions, matching or exceeding my personal records. My precision salvo reload booster now applied to all secondary guns as well, which was a nice bonus. Muse ammo was still more effective in the sub-6km scenario, but unfortunately, they attenuate too much energy to be effective past 9km.
With that done, I have reached the halfway point of the trials. Dismissing my hull, I splashed down in rigging form, and made a U-turn to face back towards Oahu. It was another popular KANSEN maneuver, allowing us to turn far sharper than physically possible with crewed ships. The rapid displacement of seawater meant this was not recommended in port, but when in the open seas, it gave us a distinct advantage over more modern warships.
›› Loading AR melee simulation pattern F…
›› FFCS: All green.
›› NFCS: All green.
Come!
I held out one hand, calling forth my black and blue-accented cross-staff.
›› Simulation loaded. Combat starting in …
›› 30
›› 29
A rod of blackened Inconel, measuring 160cm long, tipped with a large gilded cross head. A mix between a pole-axe and quarterstaff.
›› 24
›› 23
The weapon was easily longer than my human height. Long enough to serve as an impromptu flagpole on several occasions, but not quite as long as Richelieu's own.
›› 17
›› 16
My miniaturized main batteries fan out on either side, wiping out the controls in preparation.
›› 5
›› 4
›› 3
Engine boost has stopped, largely unnecessary in rigging form. Boiler pressure is nominal, and I was making a steady 28 knots – plenty to brawl with.
›› 1
›› Starting simulation…
First came two Explorer class elites at 200m. Their holographic forms shimmered slightly in the sun. I set all secondaries to focus on the farther hologram and closed in on the other. They both promptly returned fire in kind while kiting away.
Chasing Explorers was not ideal as a lone battleship. I lacked the secondary firepower to finish them off quickly, and they were nimble enough to avoid my main batteries. However, it didn't take long before the real targets came into view – an Oceana class and a Breaker class.
The Breaker was slow and Explorers inconsequential to the battle. I quickly redirected all guns to the Oceana, bracketing it on three sides, herding it towards myself. The hologram, slow to maneuver, did not react in time to my cross-staff slamming into its side in a horizontal swing. It collapsed instantly, shattering into virtual polygons as my AR module created the illusion of an equal reaction force.
With that taken care of, I promptly returned the secondaries' focus to the Explorers, which were now on either side of me, likely launching a torpedo spread. DD-caliber gunfire I can take, but virtual torpedoes will still hurt.
A creative application of the Muse system solves that problem. Sound travels very well underwater, and my Muse speakers have enough power to disrupt most torpedo attacks enough to throw them off course. It wasn't a foolproof solution, but it worked plenty well in small engagements like this.
Speeding forward to meet the Breaker hologram head on, I unleashed a full AP salvo from my main guns, triggering its shields. The herding tactic won't be necessary here, the Breaker looked eager to brawl. A second salvo connected, and the Breaker began to return fire in kind. Its aim was slow, movements telegraphed. I sidestepped, twisting sideways to avoid most of the incoming virtual AP. Before my third salvo had finished loading, I had closed the distance, my cross-staff held out sideways for a drive-by. The staff's head connected with the Breaker's rigging, hooking into one of its many arms, the ensuing crack of the arm breaking was drowned out by my third salvo unloading point-blank at its face. Its shields flickered.
Using the angular momentum to swing myself around behind the breaker before letting go, I glided backwards and assessed the damage. It was always a curious feeling when fighting holograms in melee. The reaction forces of every blow would be partially recreated by my own body, within reason. It was useful for simulating all sorts of physical contact and battle damage without a real sparring partner, another feature that set me apart from the other KANSEN.
The virtual Breaker stumbled back, struggling to regain momentum. Its shields petered out and I wasted no time unleashing all my secondaries to keep up the pressure. I readied my staff for a heavy overhead swing, planning for a finishing blow. However, before I could close the distance, the breaker let loose a large, directed energy attack – what we commonly call a laser, though not technically accurate – and I was forced to take evasive maneuvers. The laser struggled to track me at these short ranges, the slow traverse one of the low tier Siren's known weaknesses. Although stray hits picked away at my shields – not ideal.
Seeing the laser's ineffectiveness, the Breaker scrambled to change tactics. Before it could recover, I was on top of it, this time with a low diagonal sweep aimed at its right leg, like how Clem would swing a golf club. A metallic crunch, and then nothing. My staff struck true, the heavy cross head taking half of the Breaker's leg clean off. The hologram fell flat, having lost buoyancy, and rapidly began to sink beneath the waves. Thankfully low tier Sirens don't have much in the way of self-preservation.
This was why Azur Lane has replaced conventional navies when it comes to fighting against humanoid Sirens. Break their shields, break their legs.
Ah – the Explorers got away.
…
›› Simulation results:
›› Victory
›› Targets destroyed: 1x Oceana, 1x Breaker
›› Damage sustained: 4% hull, 11% superstructure, 7% AA mounts
›› Time taken: 18 minutes, 23 seconds
Constant fire from the Explorers took a toll, and they managed to retreat, damaged but afloat. Not being able to chase down the Explorers was within expectations, but I should have finished the Breaker sooner to avoid so much unnecessary damage.
Let's hope… Maître doesn't look too closely…
Of course, most other KANSEN were not AR or VR capable, and would not have included a melee combat/NFCS test as part of the usual Kahoʻolawe course.
Shifting out of combat mode and re-summoning my hull, I was flooded with system warnings that were previously not important enough to be brought to the foreground. Ammunition consumption reports, virtual damage assessment, body temperature warnings, and so on. But most concerning was the weather forecast. Stormy skies had already set in, and my weather radar reported that the system would be over my position in a matter of minutes.
There was no time to waste.
›› Engine boost activated
Open voicemail.
›› You have: 1 new message. Listen? (Y/N)_
Yes.
Sure enough, it was a severe weather warning kindly radioed in by Helena.
I glance at my HUD again, and the previous raincloud – sun had been replaced with only rainclouds for the foreseeable future. Maybe hiding the weather widget in combat was not such a great idea.
It was a little early for big wave season. That did not stop the swells from getting BIG. The previously gentle winds steadily picked up speed. I brought up my collection of atmospheric sensor readings to the HUD, the anemometer output was faithfully rendered in front of me.
23 knots
26 knots
28 knots
Fat raindrops soon followed, spattering against my face. The crosswind was already close to matching my own top speed. I wasted no time ducking into the nearest watertight door, shutting the slab of steel behind me. Not that it kept me dry. As KANSEN, our hulls and our human bodies are equally important, so while going inside kept my battledress dry, I still felt every drop of rain against my deck, soaking down into every open crevasse.
Even the mightiest battleships can struggle against the forces of nature, so I must not underestimate the power of this storm. The USN is very particular about not pushing your luck against rough weather, especially since the events of typhoon cobra in 1944, and Maître is in agreement with applying the same principles to Azur Lane's own operations – knowing that some of the Fletcher girls still held trauma from that incident. Still, with the nearest anchorage being back at base, I had no option but to press onwards. I could only pray that the storm's path will not linger over my own for too long.
… only for those hopes to be dashed.
Two hours and fifty-five minutes later. I stood outside the mouth of Pearl, having dismissed my hull once more for ease of maneuvering in the harbor. The impromptu storm had grown into an overnight, or at least over-evening affair, according to the latest weather reports I received from base. The skies over Oahu had transitioned from gunmetal grey to sinister, inky shades of black and purple, as gale force winds rattled the palms violently. It was no typhoon, or hurricane as the Americans say, and I suffered no physical damage, yet I was still drenched and utterly spent.
Observation: measured luck stat matches predictions.
›› System warning: Fuel reserves are below 13%, please refuel at the next available port.
›› System notification: Fuel reserves are below 13%, power saving mode enabled.
Purge ballast to 20%.
›› Purging ballast tank(s) 3 to 12 …
With such low fuel reserves, I had pumped in a lot of seawater for stability. Standard practice. Still, I decided to keep 20% in the tanks. With some waves easily reaching my thighs, the extra water weight helped me feel… safe? Is that what this is called?
›› …
My emotion inhibition module was curiously silent again.
Climbing up onto the docks, I dismissed my rigging and made a beeline for the office. It was a small building compared to the munitions depot next door, boxy in construction, containing a single large office space, the commanding officer's private office, and a break room plus toilet across the hallway. Said hallway ran through the middle of the building, connecting the northward entrance, which pointed towards the docks and engineering facilities, and the southward entrance which opened into the courtyard and the remaining living spaces on this base.
Moving on autopilot, I pushed past the heavy weatherproof exterior doors and stopped in front of Maître's private office. The hallway was empty, and windows into adjacent rooms proved they were equally so. A row of flickering fluorescent tubes lit the hall with a ~5000K blueish white. Sometimes it was inconvenient to be able to see faster than 60Hz indoors.
The lights are still on.
›› Wireless access point connected…
Then, sharply knocking twice, I announced: "Gascogne, requesting permission to enter."
There was a shuffling of papers. A loud thud. Then, "Granted. Come in, come in!"
›› File uploaded successfully.
I pushed open the intricately detailed wooden door – Japanese maple, supposedly – and before I could take two steps in, I had come face to face with Maître who had gotten up to meet me by the entrance.
Placing both his hands around my bare shoulders, Maître exclaimed, "Gascogne! You're drenched!"
!... It feels… nice.
"Gascogne, returning from mission. Confirmation required for completion. Report has been uploaded, Maître."
"Confirmed. Never mind that, you're freezing cold as well! Come, let's get you dry first." He then turned his head over the shoulder to address the other occupant of this room, which his broad figure had been blocking from my view until now. "Belfast, would you please fetch some towels to help clean this up?"
"Certainly Master, I shall return briefly with the supplies, and Gascogne? Please do stay off the carpet, you're still dripping everywhere." With that, the impeccably dressed British maid departed to find the cleaning supplies closet – which was just down the hall.
Oh. Was it that bad?
I was suddenly acutely aware of my disheveled appearance. Wet hair matted against my face uncomfortably, my dress having lost some of its shape, now stuck to my thighs like wet paper, grains of sand still clung to my boots, and the lingering scent of white powder still stubbornly persisted.
Sure enough, a puddle was rapidly forming at my feet, threatening to claim another square meter of floor for Poseidon. Checking my body temperature readings, it had indeed dropped to 26C. Power saving mode disabled heating again and with boilers set to the minimum right now, it was no wonder I hadn't received any high temperature warnings.
Scanning the room, I identified a stainless-steel serving trolley parked by Maître's desk. Behind it, the curtains were drawn, hiding the incessant pitter-patter of rain on those windows. Walls lined with bookshelves and filing cabinets, and counter space, plus a plush sitting area in the middle, two sofas flanking a coffee table, placed over the carpet I was supposed to stay away from. It was a typical office layout, one which I was very familiar with.
He was eating dinner in the office again. That's why Belfast was still here.
He turned his attention back to me. We stared at each other in awkward silence. My HUD faded away, bringing focus to his face…
…I could feel a surge of…
Query emotion module.
›› Searching…
›› User is experiencing: embarrassment and self-consciousness. View definition? (Y/N)_
Right. That.
The desire to run back to the dorms and hide lest Maître stares at my pathetic state for a moment longer.
I glanced at the clock on my HUD.
Almost 1900 hours.
I was in no condition to resume secretary duties. Besides, he still had Belfast here.
"Maître, maybe I should go-" as I was taking a step back.
"Gascogne, actually I wanted to ask-" he said, with one hand still firmly connected to my shoulder.
Our voices overlapped. He was pulled along unexpectedly, right as my foot slipped on the puddle of my own making. His other hand shot out, ostensibly reaching out to catch me, but it was too late. Before I realized we were both off balance and tumbling to the floor.
›› Navigation warning: Imminent collision detected.
Remark: You don't say.
I landed on my back with a thud, my senses momentarily overloaded with the shock of my HALO hitting the floor, setting off a slew of system warnings and jumbled radar readings.
A groan came from... below?
I looked down towards my feet. Maître was awkwardly sprawled out on top of me, his face buried on my lower abdomen, and one hand planted atop my breasts.
Warm.
My face felt like it was ablaze from the heat of a dozen tons of lyddite going off.
The heart rate warning was unnecessary when I could sense every thump against his hand, threatening to jump out and escape back into the sea.
…
There was a long silence as Maître slowly pushed his upper body off with his free hand, to a keeling position, bent over me but still less than 40cm apart, before finally meeting my eyes with an indecipherably conflicted expression. I found my voice first, albeit small.
"Umm… Maître? Is this… a physical examination?"
Not a second later, I heard a soft knock on the door, followed by the appearance of Belfast standing in the doorway, a stack of fresh towels in one hand, and a mop and bucket in the other. She raised one eyebrow, giving us a most amused expression. 94% match for amused, and 72% match for smirk - that's what my query returns. "Master, I would advise you keep such fraternization to after working hours."
"No wait, Belfast, this isn't what –"
Before Maître could finish, Belfast had already deposited the mop and towels by a counter and was already backing out from the door. "Now, please pardon my intrusion, and have a pleasant evening."
"- you think…."
Click.
With that, we were alone once more, marked only by the sound of the brass door latch sliding into its waiting hole.
AN
This is not a cliffhanger.
This is not a metaphor.
Nothing happened because anime logic.
Use your imagination. XD
