Sequel to The Import's Tale.
Also, this is an apology to Haruna, for later. If you know, you know.
O dry those pearly tears that flow –
One farewell smile before we sever;
The only balm of parting woe
Is – fondly hope 'tis not for ever.
They knew nothing of the country they sailed for, nor the one they came from. Perhaps they would come into being with vague ideas of what Japan was like – cherry blossoms and mountainside shrines, an emperor in a palace and a people that strained to claim their place in the world– but Haruna and Kirishima would come to be on a different isle, in the beating heart of a different empire.
Japanese cedars had been changed out for handsome, hardy English oak, but Kongou noticed that the shipyards felt similar. Perhaps that was because there were only so many ways to build a functioning one, perhaps complemented by a touch of British influence on Japanese naval doctrine….
Those lovely forms in the harbor certainly had their fair share of British influence, considering that their architect was British. While they were made in Japan, it was still a homecoming, in some strange sense. This was the land where they were made into something concrete, something achievable. This was the country that had given them a chance at life through their donation of cubes.
Kongou didn't expect her sisters to have the same relation with England as she did, but she would be glad if they came to like it. Honestly, she hoped that they came to like many things. Being able to like something was a special privilege of the living, and soon enough, they would live.
Despite the fact that she had nothing to miss beyond those great metal hulls, she had missed them terribly. There was no smile she could think of with fondness, no fond farewell beyond a hand held against unfeeling superstructure… but she ached for want of them. She would never admit to something as gauche and base as simple jealousy when it came to the complete Queen Elizabeth class…
She just longed for fullness. If you plucked a mountain from its seat, wouldn't you say the range was wanting for it? Less for it? They were a set, even if Kongou was of different make than her siblings. Who she would finally get to see in flesh and blood, instead of whatever vague imaginings she and Hiei discussed late into the night. (And those foggy figures in her dreams, not malevolent even if they bore horns and blades.)
While they weren't public knowledge quite yet, the cubing of a warship was a major event, in military circles. Attempts at collecting data were usually pretty dicey, considering that the cube had a mind of its own, but there were still a few aides floating around with cameras and radio equipment. Who knew what strange things happened when the cube occurred? Radiation? Who can say?
(Hey, it was the late 1910's, some people thought radium was a wholesome food additive.)
"Must they make such an affair of it?" Kongou grumbled. She understood that there was a logical reason to observe the process, and some of that data might even help Japan in the future… but it meant that her first meeting with her sisters would be in front of an audience.
Hiei smiled. "Maybe you can think of it as a party, of sorts."
"I don't recall sending out invitations."
"Ah, but a gentlewoman must restrain herself, even when dealing with indecorous party crashers."
Kongou chuckled. "Speaking of… tonight?"
"All ready." Hiei smiled.
One of the men handling the cameras turned to take a photograph of Kongou and Hiei, almost immediately getting into a debate with one of their officers. Britain was working toward the big reveal – Renown was being painstakingly coached so she wouldn't bumble her radio appearance – and Japan was looking to copy their deliberate control of knowledge about shipgirls. Considering Hiei's horns and Kongou's blonde hair making them unlike normal Japanese women, controlling the narrative was critical.
Kongou didn't appreciate the feeling that her life was essentially being hijacked by high command… but her duty was to Japan, and if the strategy made sense, it was her duty to help fulfill it as best as possible. She reserved her right to complain, though. If a sword could speak, surely it would complain about being improperly used, no?
Of course, Japan made sure that it would be a Japanese officer cubing Haruna and Kirishima, to prevent any undue foreign influence. That was no guarantee, given Kongou herself, but when one of the few things you could control about a shipgirl was the man manifesting her. Perhaps you were leaving things in the hands of fate, but you could pick the man who threw the dice.
First was Kirishima. Third of their four. Middle child, if you wanted to use normal familial terms for her. Her namesake was a great volcanic range in Kyushu, whose greatest peak was supposedly tall enough to see far-flung Korea from. (It wasn't.) Perhaps their touring would let Kirishima see Korea in good time…
When the light faded, the first thing that caught Kongou's eye was the gleam. Again, Kongou's mind provided information: Jodan. It almost felt a little too on the nose. The officer actually stumbled back in fear – fair, considering that Kirishima was holding her sword like she was about to swing it down. Jodan was an aggressive stance, if a bit open.
(Heh. Such a stance might have been a bit more fitting for one of the especially frail British battlecruisers. Very offensive, to the point of losing out on defense….)
In addition to the unsheathed sword, there were also two long stretches of uncovered leg. That was a skirt to rival Kongou's original, without stockings or anything. Well, there were hints of some peculiar, stocking-like fabric high on the thigh, and some more of the same fabric above the neckline. A sort of loose-knit over a more typical stocking?
The short dress was partially hidden by a great red cloak, one whose only remarkable decoration was a pair of white rings, creating an impression of two Japanese suns the gently fluttering fabric, one on her left and another on her right.
For a moment, everyone seemed to be frozen, even Kirishima herself. The horns gave her a silhouette like Hiei's, but Hiei's sword was sheathed when she came to be. Kirishima was poised to strike, her face partially covered by a sort of gauzy mask. Despite her hair being a few shades lighter than Hiei's, her overall look was darker, more aggressive.
Thankfully, the sword was lowered carefully, gradually. There was a little stretching of the mask. A smile. "I'm Kirishima, Japanese fast battleship!" She looked around a little and locked eyes with Kongou. "And we'll trace the path to victory together."
The man who manifested Kirishima was already getting funny looks for that skirt. Ha. Kirishima swiftly circumnavigated him and approached Kongou as swiftly as her heels allowed.
"Kongou!" She went for a hug immediately and noticed the way that Kongou stiffened. "I figured you were Kongou and she's Hiei…"
"That's correct." Hiei smiled. "It's good to meet you, Kirishima."
"Oh, c'mere, Hiei." Kirishima made a come hither gesture. "I need a photo while I'm still the youngest sibling."
Kongou chuckled. "You'll be youngest for all of ten minutes."
"Then I've got to exploit my youth, don't I?"
Kongou found herself smiling, even if she knew that getting a copy of that photo for themselves would be a pain.
Haruna came to be through the same process, although a different officer kicked it off. Kongo wondered if she saw some minor differences – a slightly different shade of blue-white, greater luminosity, a different halo of rays springing forth – or if that was just her memory playing tricks on her.
Another form came to be in the midst of the light. White ivory horns, like Hiei's, contrasting against Kirishima's darker pair and Kongou's lack of them. All of them carried swords, all of them barring Kirishima had outfits with a bit of a military flair, and all of them came into being wearing very short skirts. It was uncontrollable. Destiny, perhaps.
"I'm Haruna! I'll fight for Japan and my sisters to the very end!" She did observe a few quick courtesies, but she migrated over to Kongou and her sisters soon enough. Again, Kongou was struck by the beauty of her sister's smile. "I'm glad to finally meet you."
"I missed you, Haruna," Kongou whispered.
"Kongou…" Haruna hugged her. She was stronger than Kongou expected, even for someone who carried a sword around.
"You're just as lovely as I hoped."
"There's no need to flatter me…" Haruna said, cheeks heating.
"Yeah, Kongou. Can't have this one getting a big head, can we?" Kirishima said.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're our little baby sister," Kirishima smirked.
"Wasn't I laid down earlier?" Haruna said.
"Yeah, but it doesn't matter. You were launched later–"
"Children," Hiei started, immediately shutting both of them up. "We have business to get to, and our officers would very much appreciate a united front."
"Later." Haruna said.
"Correct. You were later–"
The two of them continued to quietly jostle for position of third eldest for most of the day. Both of them recognized Kongou and Hiei as their true elders, of course, and they would usually calm down if asked; however, their conflict never seemed truly serious. Honestly, Kongou thought it was a little cute.
Kongou and Hiei stayed with their sisters as they went through the same initial process of being introduced to the world: there were photographs, there were discussions with admirals, there were researchers hoping to learn from them, tailors to measure them…
Someone had thought far enough ahead to prepare a room for Kirishima and Haruna, but the thought of parting, even for that short while, hurt. "What if you were to stay with us? For tonight, at least?"
"I'd love to!" Haruna chirped.
"I suppose I'll stay with this one…"
"Hey!"
Kirishima laughed. It wasn't the last time that night, definitely not. They were quite excited to learn, eating up every last anecdote that Kongou could think up. Despite the fact that Kongou barely spent a few days there, Kirishima and Haruna would pester her for any tales of Japan.
(Again, there was that vexing thing where her actual memories of Japan were supplemented by those strange memories she had been born with. "I don't believe I've actually seen my namesake… but perhaps we'll make a trip of it?")
"You know, Kongou, if it would be a bother, we don't have to share a bed," Haruna said, twiddling her fingers. "I could find somewhere else. I don't want to interrupt your sleep…"
"Haruna, any interruption you might cause is one I'm glad for."
"Ah…" Her cheeks heated. "I love you, Kongou."
"And I love you too."
Unfortunately, Haruna couldn't stay attached to Kongou's side forever, as nice as that might have been. Of course, she knew her sister was spectacular, but she learned that the British thought so too. Kongou the Thunderbolt. Wasn't that a flattering nickname? Fitting, too. She was a savant. A genius.
Haruna knew her sister was truly Japanese, but wasn't that a sort of proof? She went from learning from Malaya and Queen Elizabeth to teaching the British battlecruisers. Wasn't that perfectly Japanese? Starting late but exceeding the Europeans through sheer force of will…
(They wouldn't know it, but Kongou really was ahead of the times. She performed like someone with a bulin backing them up before they even knew that was a thing.)
Unfortunately, her exceptional talent meant that everybody wanted a piece of her, so Haruna couldn't always get the time with her sister that she wanted. She'd come to dinner exhausted – happy, smiling at them, but exhausted – and Haruna would massage her shoulders or offer some choice portion of her food for the day. Kongou would always refuse the latter, but Haruna never stopped trying.
Perhaps that was because of her appetite. Everyone on the base came to know of it… it was a little embarrassing. Kongou never judged her for it – "If you're hungry, it's best you eat," – and Hiei would sometimes cook her extra portions. Kirishima would take it as a challenge sometimes, considering that she tried to do the same training as Haruna. Depending on Kirishima's mood, it was another one of those areas that their one-upmanship leaked into.
Still, it was good to work with other people. Kongou wanted them making friends among the English, and it was quite simple to start bonding with the battlecruisers…
Hiei took a liking to Tiger, Kirishima and Lion had their sort of thing, and Haruna found someone interested in exercise and fighting outside of naval contexts. She also had a sword, but she didn't make much use of it either…
Haruna took up her stance. "You're a southpaw?" Repulse asked.
"Southpaw?" Haruna asked.
"A lefty, I mean," Repulse said.
"Is there an issue with that?"
"No! In fact, I've heard southpaws make great boxers. You know, since they're opposite of what everybody expects."
"This isn't boxing, though."
Repulse shrugged. "Still applies, doesn't it? Now come on!"
(Haruna couldn't say what style Repulse practiced. It was a bit unusual, just like the girl herself… there was some passing mention of Sherlock Holmes when Repulse talked about it? Still, she was fit enough to make it work.)
Malaya and Kongou were alike in more than one sense. Both had an interest in Britain, a country that seemed both foreign and familiar, and both felt like the outlier among their siblings. Blonde hair on Kongou's part and a different complexion on Malaya's…
They chatted and drank sometimes. Kongou took a liking to her from the get-go, and her relative seniority among the British shipgirls (without any remarkable incident's like Lizbet's little detour during Jutland) meant Malay had a bit more leeway. Add to that that Kongou didn't have horns to explain away, and the two of them could act to sate their curiosities, in very limited ways.
It wasn't exactly a completely free night on the town – not that a night on the town in the middle of the war would have been that remarkable – but they could take a peek at the periphery of real life, even if it was from balconies or through windows. There was a certain standard of propriety expected from the rank and file near shipgirls… and while Kongou certainly appreciated that, it was interesting to see life outside of it.
Despite the war, people ate, drank, danced, and sang…
"What are they singing?"
"Oh, that's the Black Velvet Band," Malaya answered, absentmindedly.
The song wasn't exactly helped by the singer's current state of inebriation, but any sort of music was a novel experience for Kongou.
"So come all you jolly young fellows
I'd have you take warning by me
Whenever you're out on the liquor
Beware of the pretty colleen
For she'll fill you with whiskey and porter
Until you're not able to stand
And the very next thing that you notice
You've landed in van Diemen's land!"
"And colleen means girl?" Kongou asked.
"Yes. It's about a girl tricking a man into being transported – sent to a penal colony in Tasmania."
A sort of femme fatale seducer, then? Not very applicable to Kongou's situation then. "Better than just being forced to go where the admiralty pleases, you think?"
"Well, that's what the admiralty does, isn't it? It'd hurt more to be duped, I figure."
You could still be duped or betrayed in the former case, couldn't you? You would just be caught up in a tangle of red tape instead of black velvet.
Bartitsu: white-boy jiujitsu as practiced by Sherlock Holmes