Niskatta ketuku kusu ne okaibe nekon a ambe ne ya sekoro ecbi erampeutek ruwe ne gusu ne na.
Ecbi koro inotu nekon a ambe ne ya?
Echi utara anak ne irukai an, aige, ush wa isain paka echi ne ruwe ne gusu ne na.
Taishō 8
Their triumphant return had been hell. There was no other way to describe it. Hell in the complex, theological sense that some of the English described: pain, certainly, but pain from want. A fire that raged was terrible in its presence, but it was there.
Lack of goodness was the real punishment of Christian hell, and Hiei had begun to understand why such an idea was so terrible. She was a warrior. She had withstood shells tearing at her hull and raging fires and knew those pains well. Those were 'positives' in the sense that they were added. They were things that could be removed, swept away. Then there was the gaping hole in Hiei's life, the space left perpetually unfilled. A pitfall, as if the very ground had been ripped out from under Hiei's feet.
Britain had asked for their service in repayment for the cubes, but Haruna had paid a greater price than a couple of years. She was gone.
Again and again, Hiei wondered if she had done something wrong. Was she too lenient, not giving the sister the push she needed to survive? (Well, that was a silly question. Haruna worked like a fiend. But could Hiei have done something?) Or maybe it would have been better if she had displayed more affection. Lost opportunities sprung up in her mind like weeds. She could have said more.
Perhaps it was her failing, in part. Kongou and Kirishima certainly thought of it that way, training their crew like fiends on the return ship. Some of the men seemed to appreciate the distraction: Haruna was one of theirs, after all. Not in the sense of a sister, but a countrywoman and a Japanese-built battleship. There was the healthy national pride associated with any ship of war, of course, but the younger Kongou sisters were made in Japan. Hiei never thought less of her elder sister for it…
In fact, one of the few times Hiei exercised her authority over the crew was when one of them made a comment: "If we had to lose any ship for Britain, why not the one they made?" He was cleaning the ship's head for weeks afterward.
The long journey back gave them time to consider what price their sister had sold her life for. Each of them had a pile of their own they had earned, with a third of Haruna's on top. Just for security's sake, to keep all of their eggs out of one basket. As far as Hiei knew, there were no means to tell the cubes apart… but she liked to think there was some inflexible, indestructible fragment of Haruna buried in the blue.
Those cubes were Japan's naval future, the power that would let Japan defend her recent gains in East Asia… but all their strategic utility didn't make them feel any greater than straw compared to Haruna.
For what it was worth, the navy was glad to see them. Very glad. They came with reports and lived experience of Texel. It wasn't quite like being there for Jutland, but it was more practical experience regarding modern naval battle and how it could thoroughly destroy a ship.
There was good data which would be turned to into good design (hopefully) and Hiei knew their responsibilities would only grow as they taught their new comrades how to fight… The peace they had finally reached looked to be busy.
Perhaps that was a good thing. Hard work might do something to distract from the terrible missing.
Taishō 13
Hiei appreciated a good party. That wasn't too strange a trait, she didn't think, but she wasn't all party all the time, obviously. Working to earn her keep… well, didn't it make those parties after the completion of a long project all the sweeter?
Sweet, but not always sweet enough. She smelled sweet incense and rice cake. The latter was a bit unusual – she couldn't exactly be leaving them every day, even if that was how often she visited the base's memorial shrine.
For what little it was worth, Haruna was the only face attached to it. The hole Amagi left behind was equally large, but she never even received a cube. No photograph for her, just a sketched naval design and broken dreams.
"Lady Hiei?" She turned to see Fusou, their senior shrine maiden. "I don't wish to interrupt, but Lady Kongou sent for you."
"Thank you, Fusou." Hiei stood up, took one last breath of that sweet incense, and plunged back into business.
Outside of the memorial to Haruna and Amagi, there was the Shipgirl's Quarter if the base. Or, if you preferred a different turn of phrase, the Kansen stable. It made a sort of sense, in that they were animals kept alive largely for their military use. And perhaps for prestige in some small part….
Fortunately, they had enough sway to gild their cage: gardens, both flower and dry, although the former were hurt by the harsh sun. There was, of course, the shrine, and then a dojo for those who preferred more bellicose pursuits. Speaking of, Kaga passed Hiei by without so much as a nod, not even sparing the shrine a glance as she left the dojo.
(Upstart. It was endearing when Kirishima did it in England half a decade ago, but now that thirst for a fight smacked of painful naivete. Maybe Hiei had become the very same cautious, sluggish authority figure her sisters joked about on England's shores, but it was nothing but logical.)
Working around the hustle and bustle, Hiei slipped indoors and worked her way towards Kongou's second home. Well, it was practically next door to their quarters, but it was Kongou's domain, the place where the military interfaced with Kansen. There was no guard she had to pass by on their side, but she knew Kirishima kept a constant watch on the 'normal' side. Anyone hoping to sneak in and catch a glimpse of Kongou was usually spooked by Kirishima's glare. And blade.
However, Kirishima didn't stop the flow of reports and articles that flowed inside, considering they were part of a project. An accounting of every Kansen they were aware of, plus those they didn't know.
There were, of course, the public faces. The soft, childish features of the Bayerns, the melancholy mien of Resolution, the confident grin of Nevada. When available, photos were clipped from papers and hung up alongside postcards and quotes.
(Nevada. A super-dreadnought of the newer sort, more in line with Fusou or Yamashiro than Nagato or Queen Elizabeth. At least when it came to form, America got to skip that awkward, gangly phase. Nevada was America's first, and a shock in several ways.
Frequent speaker on the radio, quick with a joke, anything but some wilting ingenue… She seemed very American, by some definition. Beauty was an equally vague thing, but considering the prints they had gotten their hands on in far-flung Japan, the Navy knew their girls were lovely. Sun-kissed Nevada with her blonde hair, blonde like the silver and gold of her native state had been drawn into perfect wires.
It was hard not to feel some admiration for their enemy, at times. Efficiency of design and the warship's form married to a human face… it was terribly compelling. People liked personifying ships. Liked the idea that their steadfast companions had something more to them than swathes of steel. There was a spirit to them.)
In addition to a record of appearances and personalities – important in case there was some flaw of character they could exploit – there was their magnum opus: the Estimates.
It was the shared project of Kongou and Dai-9 (the fourth of the Kamikaze class, sans a proper name and one of the few not making a major stink about it) and its purpose was an overall estimate of all cubes floating around. Yes, all. There were estimates for base cube production per year, guesses as to how war games impacted that number, and full-fledged formulas describing exponential growth… the end result was a series of approximate guesses regarding cube numbers, free and utilized, in every naval power they knew to have Kansen. Were such guesses vain? Probably. Was it also the best collection of such naval information she was aware of? Yes.
However, Kongou was focused on something other than her great project today. She was drawing lines on a map, charting a course in red ink.
"Kongou?"
"Hiei." She smiled. "I'm sorry to interrupt…" Kongou knew when Hiei haunted the shrine – it was a well-established habit at this point.
"But you needed me for something. What is it this time?"
"The Americans are planning a world tour with their new Kansen."
"Like the Great White Fleet?" Hiei asked.
"Quite," Kongou remarked. "Take a look at their route after the Aleutians."
A ribbon of red hopped from California up to Alaska, tracing the chain of the Aleutians before swinging under Kamchatka and Sakhalin. Straight into the Sea of Japan.
It had the vague suggestion of Belle-Epoque gentility, courtesy calls to many of America's allies, but they weren't in an antebellum world anymore. America would take their brand new battleships and sail between Honshu and Kyushu to stop by Tokyo before sailing down to German Indochina.
Of course, they knew that the US was part of the same gang as the Europeans, but this was continuing proof. The imperial clique tolerated conquest when done by the proper sort. When Japan seized Tsingtao, nothing but overstretched logistics kept Germany from taking it back.
A party, Hiei knew, was more than just a party. A banquet could be fun, but politics tended to seep in – especially if you were, say, spending time in German Saigon, French Algiers, or Sicilian Naples. That meant something. It was a proclamation of what states you considered legitimate. Japan had that recognition… with a side order of saber-rattling.
And frankly? It would have been scarier half a decade ago. The lack of American intervention in the Weltkrieg seemed to foretell a wishy-washy, indecisive stance more broadly. Anti-Syndicalist, of course, but willing to cozy up with Britain and Germany both. While few could boast total recovery from the Weltkrieg, the United States had lost its chance to play kingmaker.
A Kansen tour might do something to address that issue, especially if they managed to pick up some experience from the German fleet in Indochina or the recovering British one. For once, America was behind the pack when it came to naval innovation, and a purposeful snub could further impede their efforts…
But Kongou had called Hiei here for a reason. "And I am to play host?"
"Yes. Meet them near Hokkaido, keep them on the straight and narrow, and tell me everything you can."
Hiei made to obey, of course. Military habit and frugality instilled in her by those early years in Britain had never truly left her, so she was almost ready to move when she got the order. Admittedly, that was helped by having living quarters in her ship, but she didn't have to move many other personal effects over.
For the most part, she had to give farewells and pass off her duties to someone who could handle them in the meantime. Kongou was immediately disqualified for the simple reason of not loading her sister down like a mule, and Kirishima's understanding of parties was probably a bit too high energy….
"Fusou, may I speak to you?"
"Of course, my lady. Was there something you needed?"
"I'm sailing for Hokkaido on business soon, and I would like you to preside over my dinners in the meantime."
Fusou gulped. That wasn't a request to whip up wholesome meals for Hiei's siblings – although Fusou seemed to have the makings of a homemaker – but a request to preside over Hiei's great officer and Kansen banquet. They weren't sure if the other countries had something similar, but it was a chance for officers to mingle with Kansen they wouldn't typically command, a way to glean bits of info… it had become a part of their post-Kansen naval culture. Sometimes, an officer's destiny was decided by how well he kicked it off with a ship.
Of course, there were many concerns coupled with the whole event. Which Kansen were fit to attend? Picking what to eat, choosing who would sit where, and making sure that anyone causing too much trouble was expelled… again, there was more to a party than a party. Politics simmered under the surface, and there was a certain power in managing it all. Fusou wasn't the sort to chase that power, and Hiei believed she had enough of a spine to stand up to Kaga and the like. She had a maternal tendency Hiei liked, although paired with a certain belief in fortune…
(Perhaps merited, given Yamashiro's tremendous streak of clumsy accidents, but Hiei believed one had to seize fate.)
After a moment of hesitation, Fusou bowed her head. "It would be my honor, my lady."
"Thank you, Fusou. I know this might distract from your duties…"
"I am glad to play my part, my lady."
"And please, call on Kirishima if anyone gives you lip."
Fusou chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."
Hiei was not the type to obsess over the work she did, to crow about her responsibilities, but planning around her departure served as a reminder. She had been lax, hadn't she? Dai-9 would know how to manage Kongou's foreign ship studies, Kirishima was one of many who served as Kongou's guards… but Hiei needed to groom her own successor, needed to pass on soft skills and contacts in case something happened. It could happen suddenly, even during times of peace….
But for now, her affairs in Honshu were in order. It was looking to be quite the station, especially considering that Hokkaido didn't really have naval ports to work out of. At least, none of her caliber. There was Ōminato, which was about as far north as you could get on Honshu, but even that wasn't Hokkaido proper.
Hokkaido was intriguing. A stepping stone between the mainland and their recent expansion into northern Sakhalin, although there wasn't much strategic value it could provide that the base in Ōminato couldn't. Maybe install an airbase in Hokkaido, but otherwise? It seemed like its main utility was providing coal and foodstuffs. Necessary, but not exceptional or irreplaceable.
Yet the Americans were going to linger there. Perhaps it was just a bit of dilly-dallying to ensure a timely arrival in Tokyo just before the emperor's birthday, but it could be read more cynically. Was it gathering information? If there was any place the Americans would know well, it would be Hokkaido…
Or maybe the Americans wanted a bit of a break near Hokkaido to brace them before a plunge towards the tropics. Hiei's sisters worried for her health in that northerly isle, even if it was looking to be a brief summertime trip to ensure their facilities in Hokkaido were proper.
("Kongou and I bought you a coat!" Kirishima grinned, like it wasn't summer.)
"I double-checked with the Americans: your only concern is the Kansen. The Americans should keep their boys on tight leashes." Kongou said, "For their own prestige, if nothing else."
"Seems a crying shame," Kirishima mused. "Imagine going to a foreign country and not doing anything."
Hiei answered before any of them could spend too long thinking about what foreign country they had visited. "Anything can be good or bad, Kirishima."
"A bit of misadventure can be fun, can't it?"
Kongou sighed. "You say stuff like that and act surprised when Command doesn't give you more responsibility."
"Is Command with us right now?" Kirishima shot back. "Are you going to tattle on me?"
"I could," Kongou warned, but all three of them knew it would never happen.
"Train hard for me, Kirishima." Hiei embraced her younger sister.
"I do already…" she murmured, cheeks heating.
Pulling back from that hug, she embraced Kongou. "I have total faith in you," she whispered.
Hiei arrived in Hokkaido to find it surprisingly warm. Fair enough, considering it was summer, but her mental image of the last, frost-bitten frontier suffered for it.
She came with her crew and a retinue of guards – all 'normal' by human measure – along with an as-of-yet uncubed destroyer. Dai-3. Considering that their current approach was to essentially use cubes as soon as possible to maximize production, Hiei might be cubing the destroyer soon enough. Sure, one might be set aside for the completion of a ship of note, but a cube unspent was like money under your bed. Available for use, sure, but not being exploited. Kongou's estimates regarding cube numbers were based on the assumption that cubes would be used as quickly as possible, barring cases where a notable ship was to be completed soon.
Hiei had her own assumptions to make about foreign Kansen, although these were slightly less bellicose. How would they like to be treated when they arrived in Hokkaido? In addition to simply wanting to be a good host on principle, she'd learn more from comfortable, relaxed Americans than anxious, distrusting ones.
(Or at least, that sounded like a better approach than trying to prod and pester them into something.)
Personally, Hiei wouldn't be comforted if someone served up a perverted mimicry of Japanese food – depending on quality she might find it a little offensive – so she figured making 'American' food wasn't ideal. Something Japanese, but not freakishly so. Hiei might have had a very different reaction to Britain if she had been met with, say, haggis first thing. It wasn't even bad when she worked up the courage to have it, but she wanted approachable. She wanted just familiar enough. Funnily enough, she wanted Hokkaido.
Well, she didn't want to just… throw bear meat at them and call it a day. Dairy, though? Meat and potatoes? That seemed like less of a leap. Hokkaido was formed during Japan's modernization, her agriculture colored by modern – read: American – practice.
She had a vague understanding of how to work with cheese and butter thanks to her time in Britain, but she could learn a bit more now. Kongou took to British food very well, and that meant Haruna had –
She needed to arrange housing for the Kansen somewhere proper. The men would probably be tasked with cleaning, maintenance, or the ever-popular Kansen-free drill; their fairer counterparts would get a few days in Japan, where a camera would be hanging over their shoulder instead of some insane officer. Hiei wasn't blind enough to think her position didn't come with some privileges.
And yet there was much to do.
By now, Kansen were public knowledge, if not something that everyone had smoothly integrated into their understanding of the world. People had to wrestle with what shipgirls meant for them on a grand, existential level, what humanity meant now that there was something very similar walking around. Well, you didn't usually have to grapple with that sort of thing, if your life wasn't disturbed by them. Sailors and the people of coastal cities, people in tune with global politics… they talked about it. A rural person might know if he was especially interested in the outside world, but many were unaware until a Kansen plunged into their lives. (Like a shell.)
Among Kansen, she was particularly exceptional. Hard to miss, hard to hide. Maybe they could have made some effort, but it would be conspicuous. And honestly? Hiei was proud of her horns. If people stared… well. She didn't mind too much. If her appearance didn't draw attention, the authority she represented did. Again, a party was not just a party, and a shipgirl was not just a shipgirl. Shipgirls came from warships. Warships needed the resources of a state. Almost inherently, shipgirls were a projection of the state, the (not-so) naked power of the government walking around. Shipgirls were coupled to authority.
Complement all those reasons to stare with the height of a rider on horseback… and you get a lot of attention. She picked up equestrianism in Britain, a skill that proved very helpful considering that cars were… a work in progress here. On the way? Probably. But horses still worked, and they gave her some time to get the lay of the land.
The people were polite. Seafood, dairy, and their rising beer industry all sounded promising. There was an odd mixture of Western and Japanese style architecture, but there was a charming traditional ryokan she might be able to commandeer. Hot baths had worked well for Hiei before.
There was an energy to Hokkaido, something different from ancient Japan. Both lands had been around for the same amount of time (give or take a few millennia, she supposed) but there was something lively here, a sense of newness divorced from Honshu's storied history. Once people had their fill of gaping at her, they returned to their business. Commerce and industry. The island's motto was short, to the point, and foreign: "Boys, be ambitious!"
An American had founded the Agricultural College in Sapporo, and those were his last words to his proteges. At least, that was what the rumors said. Whatever the case, it was a charming story, and sometimes that was all people needed. Frontier romance…
Perhaps there wasn't as much romance in rough little shacks on the edge of town and laborers who looked beaten down by the years, but they were a part of the town still. Men and women with the sorts of expressions that made her guards reach for their pistols, old women frowning at her despite tattooed smiles.
"Are these…?"
"Ainu." One of her guards confirmed. The Hokkaido aborigines. She would do well to look into them too.
Despite the clime of her namesake state, her name meant snowy. Her state inherited its name from the great mountains that loomed… in California, mainly. But Nevada was called Nevada, regardless.
She had seen photographs of those mountains, paintings of the russet rock and broad deserts, and she had been promised a chance to visit her namesake. Eventually. But she was needed out at sea, to make cubes for new shipgirls as part of a massive world tour. Like the Great White Fleet come again.
The cubes were a national security concern, and they were behind. Simple, unfortunate math. This was the best way she could look after her country. Her juniors also needed looking after, but at times Nevada thought she was being helped as much as she helped. Okie, Arizona, Penny… they were the best comrades a gal could ask for.
Unfortunately, Penny would be staying on the home front, because the people had to get more familiar with Kansen. Penny objected strongly, and as much as Nevada loved her, she would admit that her point about not being public relations material was right. But they weren't the bosses, were they? Meanwhile, Nevada, Oklahoma, and Arizona would go on the great tour. Any cubes they made along the way would be used on other ships in the fleet…
Seemed as fair a plan as any, even if Penny rankled at the thought of essentially being their insurance shipgirl at home. Nevada was sure she'd train her way to a cube before they caught a hint of Hokkaido on the horizon… but it was best she be left to it. Smart, diligent girl. She could handle herself while Nevada and company made for Japan.
(Despite her willingness to use intimidation, Penny's request to Nevada had been perfectly polite. Not that she needed to ask. Arizona may not have been Nevada's sister in the purest sense – they looked dissimilar – but she was a standard and a countrywoman and Nevada would look after the same way she looked after Okie.)
There was something funny – the unpleasant kind of funny – about her duty to the country pushing her away from it, but a trip around the globe wasn't bad, as deployments came. Especially considering the party when they set off: Okie and Arizona were blushing terribly, knowing that they were the focus of the event. They were the stars and they deserved all the cheers and attention they received.
And of course, as they sailed, they talked. Through Morse code, but still:
"I didn't think so many people would come…" Arizona said. Nevada could see her on board her own ship, dark hair caught in the breeze. Seemed like she was a serious distraction for every man on deck like that.
"Well, we are famous, Arizona," Nevada said. "And I'm sure everybody wanted to see sweethearts like y'all."
"Nevie…" Oklahoma groaned, her embarrassment somehow evident through Morse. Maybe it was some hint Nevada caught looking at her silhouette on her own ship.
"It's true!" Nevada laughed.
"Thank you, Nevada…" Arizona said. It almost seemed like a murmur.
"I don't want to jump on ya or nothing, but I think a bit more confidence would help, Arizona. You're gorgeous!"
"Nevada…" Arizona probably blushed prettily. She did a lot of things prettily, actually, and Penny wouldn't be here to scare the boys who noticed that away. Nevada wouldn't be as aggressive, though. Keep the bad sort away and let Arizona grow into her own, right?
Speaking of: "Oh, Okie?"Nevada said, squinting to look at her sister. "I think a bit of streamer is stuck in your hair."
"Really?"
And so they went, continuing to chatter as they sailed around the world. The trip was marked with many stops along the way: a few quick day visits to the Caribbean neighbors, applause and cheering and handshakes at Panama, more celebrations at California (two-day stop!), a quick visit to the area around Seattle and Vancouver before hugging the coast all the way to the Aleutians. Swing under Sakhalin – save lauding the new Republic in Russia for their European Grand Tour– and then linger in the Hokkaido region so they could arrive just before the Japanese Emperor's birthday.
It was good to be completely at sea. Despite all of them being named after landlocked states, there was a comfort in being at sea. This was what she was made for. The open sea, the girls tailor-made to be her company by her side. She didn't feel… whatever a cube coming on was supposed to feel like.
"... Not that we'd have any clue what it feels like, right?" Nevada chuckled.
"I suppose not, ma'am." One of her doctors had been assigned to note-taking regarding just about anything she felt. Add a few boys just devoted to maintenance, and she was never lonely. Strange to think that she was the younger one, by a decade and a half, but they were too sweet. One of them, Fremont, was just so bad at talking to women, and she just felt this overwhelming urge to help him out–
She had made sure to check on Arizona and Oklahoma's boys, just in case. She couldn't really summon her inner Penny to spook them, so she just made sure they were watched very carefully. An older sister did that sort of thing, took the lead when it was needed…
Including taking their first steps onto Asia. Her boys would have a bit less than a week to do drills without her in the Sea of Japan, while Nevada would do something to make up for not actively earning a cube: she'd have to talk to a Japanese Kansen and learn from her. Beg, lie, cheat, whatever. Just figure out what Japan knew.
Not exactly the most proper way of going about things, but they had to do things they didn't like for their countries and the folks they cared for. Nevada would do it so her comrades were better prepared to face this world.
The dock didn't feel too dissimilar, the fields and the forests didn't seem different at all, at least when she had experienced the strong contrast of the American East Coast and the humid jungles of Panama. Officers lined up in tidy rows, pennants flapping in the breeze. Even a bit of a drizzle didn't disturb the perfect order of their welcoming party. Really, they seemed to stand a little straighter just to spite the weather.
The Japanese battlecruiser Hiei was dressed for the part of an officer, but she clearly wasn't one. The horns above her head, still wet with raindrops… there was something unearthly about them, about the entire image. She seemed taller. Fiercer. Nevada got the impression she was too genteel to ever use them as weapons – but they were there, sharp and shiny, like they had been treated.
Nevada did enjoy the occasional tall tale or folk story, and Miss Hiei really seemed like she had dropped out of one of those. Admittedly, Nevada couldn't think of a story where horns on a lady was a good thing… but she smiled at them as they disembarked.
"Greetings," she smiled. "It's my privilege to welcome you to Hokkaido. I'd introduce myself properly, but we'd best make for some cover, hmm?"
"Thank you very much, Miss Hiei." Nevada said, "We're honored. I'm USS Nevada. This is my sister, Oklahoma, and the Pennsylvania class Arizona."
"Howdy! Okie chirped.
"It's a pleasure," Arizona said, smiling faintly as they made for… a carriage? A real, honest-to-goodness covered carriage? Oh, wow. She knew Hokkaido was wild and untamed, a bit behind the times, but this was… well, Nevada wasn't gonna turn her nose up at it, of course not, but it was definitely new. Old? Whatever.
Hiei passed her sword to an attendant before helping them into the carriage. Two benches faced each other under cover of a folding roof – some rich red fabric treated to resist the rain – and once Hiei had pulled Arizona into the carriage, they began to roll down the streets. They were saved from the weather, but not the gazes of the people they passed by. Worse than back home.
"I must apologize for this." Hiei began. "I must imagine you're used to cars, but Hokkaido isn't prepared…"
"Aww, it's nothing," Nevada laughed. "A carriage seems more fun than a car, I'd say."
Hiei smiled. "Well, I suppose that makes it alright. And don't worry: you'll get your chance to ride in a Japanese-made car in Tokyo."
Okie managed to tear her gaze away from the city for a few moments to ask a question: "You're showing us around Tokyo too, Miss Hiei?"
"Myself and my sisters, yes."
Nevada gulped. America had done what research it could, of course, and Nevada knew that Hiei had lost a sister during the Weltkrieg. Poor woman. She couldn't imagine what that felt like, and the thought of digging that trauma up made her sick. Hopefully, she could learn their tricks without digging up memories of Haruna…
She had a feeling that not wanting to dig up bad memories wouldn't be a good explanation for a lack of results during this trip. It was very possible their future hinged on what Hiei knew. And unfortunately, Hiei probably knew that too.
As their ships went out to sea, they went inland. Even though she knew that hostilities were unlikely, it made her a little uncomfortable. Her sister and Arizona were protected, in large part, by Hiei.
Without impugning her character, the whole thing set Nevada on edge. She didn't show it, both to reassure Okie and Arizona and because it was politics. She couldn't look weak. It was a happy coincidence that she liked being a protector and liked the idea of fighting for her country… because that was exactly what was asked of her.
For what it was worth, Hiei ran a tight ship. Pun not intended. It was some sort of traditional inn away from the heart of town, far enough that guards could effectively cut it off from the world. The thought of a trap wasn't a good one, but she supposed it was better to have soldiers between them and a strange country than not. After passing through that hedge of bayonets and crisp salutes, it was as if they had stepped into some photograph.
Soft mat floors and sliding doors, a series of Japanese robes on a rack that Hiei gestured towards. "If you'd like, those are traditional wear here."
"Do we get to keep them?" Okie asked, pinching one of the robe's arms.
"No, but if you come to like them, I'm sure I can arrange something." Hiei smiled. She seemed even more ethereal inside, the artificial light reflecting off the horns only highlighting the absurdity.
"Ma'am?" Arizona asked, "Are your horns still wet?"
"It's no issue," Hiei demurred.
Arizona fished a handkerchief from her pocket. "Here."
Hiei blinked. "Thank you." She reached up and patted her horns dry. It seemed a very practiced motion, as natural as reaching up and adjusting your hair. She passed the handkerchief back to Arizona and guided them to another room. "I've already arranged for dinner…"
Arizona had been anxious in the lead-up to their little trip. It was only fair, she thought: she had been under Penny's wing for her whole life, practically. Admittedly, that whole life could be measured on the scale of months, but the thought of leaving her sister almost made her physically sick. Sweating and an upset stomach… she haunted her doctor from the moment they set off from DC.
Nevada and Okie helped a lot, of course, and there was nothing stopping Arizona from writing to Pennsylvania anytime… well, barring Penny herself.
Don't hover around the telegraph, Ari. Your crew needs you. Nevada and Oklahoma need you. I love you, but I want you focusing on the job, alright?
Penny was right, and the dismissal made sense, even if it was sad. She had to stand apart from Penny, even in a land as foreign as Japan.
Hiei sat them down around a table – a square, four seats, Hiei opposite Arizona and Nevada on the host's right – and called for dinner and tea. Since it was some sort of inn, there was staff for that, Japanese servers who kept their cool even when faced with four shipgirls in one room. It was almost nice, not being treated like some celebrity. Was it simple exposure?
There was beer and tea to drink – Arizona sipped at some sort of macha? – followed by a dazzling array of seafood. She didn't even know urchins had salvage meat, but it all looked very impressive on their plates. Until they all managed to bumble the chopsticks, turning the cautious plating into a total mess.
"Ah," Hiei said, leaning over and taking Oklahoma's chopstick hand, "you're holding it incorrectly. The bottom needs to rest in the crook of your thumb…"
After a few careful adjustments – the soft white fabric of Hiei's gloves against Oklahoma's skin, her own gloves discarded – Oklahoma managed to lift her food to her mouth. With a bit of fiddling, Arizona and Nevada managed to mimic her, although they lacked Hiei's remarkable grace.
"Didn't expect this much dairy," Nevada said, prodding at a fat scallop with a pat of butter on top.
"Yes. It's an unconventional food for an unconventional part of Japan. I developed a taste for dairy, considering…"
"England," Nevada said. "How was it? We're going to visit soon."
Hiei was silent for a moment. "A good country. I never loved it as much as Kongou did… but the food was novel, and the Kansen… hearts of oak." She smiled wistfully, remembering bygone days.
Arizona's eyes flicked over to Nevada. This was delicate territory, even if Arizona knew that the government wanted Nevada to tread it. A sip at her tea hid a tiny little frown. Would they make this…?
"I'm glad to meet them," Nevada said. "Was it like visitin' relatives, considering…?"
"Yes. Distant ones, perhaps, but I had the strangest sense we were all one family."
"Even… even the Germans?" Oklahoma asked.
"I never saw one up close until the war's end, but yes. They're like us in every sense that matters – but perhaps you'll see that, in good time?"
Oklahoma grinned. "Yeah. Doesn't Indochina sound interesting, Nevada?"
Nevada turned to Hiei. "Are the rumors about Ostasia true? A navy with a country?"
"From what I've heard, something like it," Hiei said.
"Our own country, Nevie! Can you imagine that?" Oklahoma said.
"One has to wonder if it would be worth all the trouble." For a moment, Hiei seemed to frown minutely, but then she smiled at Arizona. "Would you like some more tea? Or perhaps water, considering the hour? You shouldn't miss out on your sleep."
"Water sounds fine," Arizona said. Hiei hadn't even offered beer, but perhaps she had just noticed that Arizona hadn't sprung for it yet. She wondered if a lot of that supposedly fine beer was going to waste, considering that Nevada cut herself and her sister off a couple of glasses in.
After some thank yous to the serving staff, Hiei guided them back into the inn, pointing out whatever they'd need for the night. "There's a hotspring that way. You can wash up beforehand there – and of course, I can abstain if I might make you uncomfortable."
"But it's more fun with more people, right?" Oklahoma asked.
"In my opinion, it is," Hiei said, "but I wouldn't wish to impose."
Nevada smiled. "It wouldn't be an imposition at all! We need someone to teach us proper etiquette, don't we?"
(It was tremendously relaxing, Arizona would admit, although the mood changed a bit when they got an eyeful of Hiei's scarring. They didn't visibly cringe or anything, but it was a sobering reminder of what their job meant.
Afterward, they threw on the cotton robes and retreated to bed. On the floor. Futons were another surprise introduced to them by Hiei before she retreated to her own room. That was fortunate, considering that they had business to discuss, even if the walls seemed a bit thin. Instead of going to bed giggling and laughing, Nevada quietly broke down the day… although she did wrap things up with a joke and a grin.)
After breakfast – miso soup, eggs, beef cut incredibly thin – Hiei presented them with a few choices for the day. Obviously, Oklahoma was against staying cooped up in the inn all day looking at dry gardens or similar, not that Arizona and Nevada really disagreed. Once Nevada heard that she might get to ride a horse on the foreign shores of Hokkaido… well, Arizona didn't think her giddiness was part of some grand plan to con information out of Hiei.
None of them had the chance to ride before, even if all of them were interested, considering they had no chance back home. It was always cars or trains if they weren't just sailing to wherever they needed to go. Sure, it was convenient and fast, but it didn't have the mystique. (Even Penny liked horses, although it was in a cavalryman sort of sense.)
Of course, carriages were more convenient just so they didn't fall off in a public place, but there were ranches and studs in the area, meaning it was possible. It was silly. It was without any meaningful use in their actual military careers. And damn it, it was fun.
They were such remarkable creatures. One of them was apparently called a blue roan, a black head and tail contrasted against a grey body, little speckles of darker grey across the flank. There wasn't much blue at all, actually, but it was such a handsome creature she didn't mind. Hiei, true to form, knew how to ride side-saddle and normally, and taught them the basics.
If Nevada was upset that they were learning equestrianism instead of Kansen basics, she didn't show it. They poked at a sort of Japanese lunchbox and chatted easily.
"I must admit, I am not as familiar with American geography as I should be, but surely your home states have horses?"
"Mine does," Nevada said. "But all the wild horses in the world don't matter if I've never visited."
"Really? That's a shame. I won't say it gave me some new sense of purpose… but it's humbling. What did they see of me in that mountain?" A few hills rose in the distance, thick with trees, but Arizona figured they weren't much compared to Mount Hiei. (Or rather, the conception she had in her mind.)
Oklahoma giggled. "Aww, we're not that fancy, Miss Hiei. Just state names, is all."
"A name like that is still interesting," Hiei said. "My comrade Fusou is named after Japan. Her sister Yamashiro is named for a province, as are Kaga and Tosa."
"Hmm… that Fusou." Nevada hummed. "Sounds rough. Imagine being named United States. Shoes too big to fill, you know?"
"Well, Fusou is fortunate they didn't name her dwarf."
Nevada snorted. "Really?"
"The oldest name Japan ever went by was Wa. Meaning submissive or dwarf. From a Chinese perspective, of course."
What a turnabout, Arizona thought. The people that China dismissed as little and easy to cow had ascended to power in Asia, defeating China and seizing Korea. Perhaps Asia would shift to centering around a different Emperor…
"And is she? A dwarf, I mean."
Hiei laughed. "Anything but. She's a super-dreadnought like you. Very much like you."
Nevada chuckled. Part of the reason they were welcomed so warmly was probably the fact that they didn't look like the Elizabeths and Bayerns. Full-grown battleships for a full-grown nation. Even if their understanding of shipgirls was woefully behind the times. O
"Well, I'm lookin' forward to meeting her!" Oklahoma beamed.
Hiei smiled fondly. "You remind me of her sister. You and Yamashiro will get along. Fusou might be a bit more Arizona's speed."
"You think so?" Arizona asked.
"I imagine," Hiei said. "But perhaps I'm doing them a disservice, introducing them now. There will be parties for that, where you can see their charms firsthand."
"I can't wait," Nevada said.
"Ah… perhaps I should focus on the guests I have in front of me?" Hiei said.
"I don't mind hearing more about your friends, Miss Hiei," Oklahoma said.
"A fleet that large sounds nice." Arizona wondered if that helped Hiei any. She was alone now, so it wasn't like the massive fleet accompanied her everywhere…
And Arizona knew that even good comrades couldn't replace a sister.
Hiei laughed and went to adjust Oklahoma's chopsticks again.
Later in the day, Hiei brought them through town at a more leisurely pace, pointing out the occasional Western-style building mixed in with the Japanese architecture. Half a century old, three decades old… they were practically ancient compared to shipgirls (especially Arizona, Nevada, and Oklahoma, whose lifespans so far were perhaps a hundred times shorter than the age of that clocktower over there) but they were also new. The empire Hiei served had a millennium of history and then some, and Hokkaido was just a recent experiment. Hiei's modern Japan was a break from that history too, honestly.
At the very least, they could take some space in not being the only thing that was new. Change was part of history, wasn't it? Or at least, this sort of rapid, constant change seemed to be a hallmark of modernity. Maybe you had to make yourself new, in some capacity, just to survive in times like this.
Sometimes, it was as simple as a new strategy, and they did have a strategy that worked: Hiei was more willing to talk shop regarding shipgirls when her audience was Oklahoma or Arizona. Not that was a sacrifice on anyone's part but Nevada's: Hiei was a good conversationalist who seemed genuinely interested in them.
(Nevada worried that it was a scheme, warning Arizona and Oklahoma not to spill everything. If they were giving away information to Hiei, she was extracting it subtly they barely realized….)
"Sooners?" Hiei asked Oklahoma. "That's a curious name."
"Mhmm. From what they said… there was this bit of land in Oklahoma that everybody wanted, and the Sooners rushed to get it before they were supposed to."
"I suppose you can't blame people for seizing what they want…" Hiei mused, "But you still haven't explained your name."
Oklahoma hummed. "It's… uh… not Cherokee, not Chickasaw… uh, one of the tribes would call red people 'Okla humma' or something like that."
"There a lot of Indians in Oklahoma?"
"Lots," Oklahoma confirmed. "It was Indian Territory first, you know."
Hiei thought for a moment. "And these Sooners? Were they…."
"White," Oklahoma said.
"Are there Indians in Arizona?" Hiei asked.
"Apache, Mohave, Zuni, Hopi, Navajo…" Arizona trailed off. It hadn't been an area her teachers had focused on terribly, but she had been intrigued personally. She had been named for the newest state of the Union, but her state's history began long before gaining statehood. Speaking of rights gained… "All the Indians became citizens a couple of months ago."
Hiei blinked. "They weren't before?"
"The tribes are all sovereign. In theory." Arizona said.
"And theory, I suppose, doesn't mean much."
"... No." That probably wasn't a very proper thing to say, but the inn was terribly relaxing. It felt separate from the world in some way. Hiei certainly seemed a little more relaxed than she had been when they first met – the shoulders a little less tense, the smile a little easier – but that might just be all her hard work paying off.
Hiei sympathized with Nevada. She really did. She knew that Nevada wanted information on shipgirls – information that could be used against Japan one day – but it was for protecting her sister more than anything else. It was a noble instinct, although you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who wouldn't adore Oklahoma as a younger sister.
It was interesting learning about them and their namesakes. Of the American ships present, Oklahoma's namesake was furthest east, while sun-beaten Nevada and Arizona touched in the desert and mountains of the American west. And of course, more people lived in those states than lily-white American settlers of proper European stock.
Choctaw, Comanche, Arapaho, Creek, Osage, Kaw, and Seneca, just to name a few that lived in Arizona and Oklahoma. Hiei suspected that Arizona and Oklahoma got a very abridged version of their state's histories, almost certainly heavy with bias, and even then they seemed to understand the fundamental injustice there. Nothing less than expected for the Americans, though: it didn't start with Hawaii and the Phillippines. It started at home, in treaties betrayed and nations destroyed.
Yes, the girls themselves had no part in it. Hiei wasn't that biased against them, and between them and the politicians they fought for, Hiei would pick a dinner with the former every time. They weren't stained with the dirty business of nitty-gritty politics. They were just designed to kill people.
(Well, there was decency in killing people by just killing people and not, say, systematically destroying everything they held dear from the other side of a layer of paperwork.)
After more nights spent in the onsen and a broad sampling of the best Hokkaido had to offer, down to a sort of dried salmon jerky inspired by Ainu cooking. But that was about the extent of their learning about Ainu culture – something told Hiei that iomante wouldn't have been a hit if she could have even managed to arrange something. The gourmet in Hiei almost wanted to know what bear tasted like…
But she couldn't stay in Hokkaido to investigate the Ainu further. They met back up with their ships – the Americans sagged with relief, glad to see everything was in order after the longest time away from their ships they had probably ever had – and made for Tokyo through the Sea of Japan. Oklahoma seemed to ask more questions about Japan than everybody in England had in that brief trip around Honshu, but Hiei was glad to answer.
The preparations in Tokyo had gone well in her absence, fortunately. Fusou didn't arrange the party – or at least those parts she could control – as Hiei would have, but it was nice. Variety was the spice of life and whatnot. Hiei liked to think their time in Hokkaido was a little Japanese food crash course that let them adapt to the sumptuous feast more easily.
Japanese and American officers talked with each other, Yamashiro and Fusou hit it off with the Americans just like Hiei had expected; it was almost possible to forget that they were essentially visiting to threaten Japan into not taking an imperialist stance in Asia. Speaking of the perenially bellicose…
"Should I go talk to her?" Oklahoma asked, looking at the corner where Kaga was lurking. She wasn't completely isolated from the party – Kaga accumulated groupies just like Kongou did – but her position gave her a good view of the whole affair.
Hiei thought for a moment. "You're welcome to, just mind that she's… not a fan of your visit."
"Ah…" Oklahoma frowned. Oh, she was too sweet.
"Well," Hiei said, "who knows when you might meet next? An introduction, at least."
Weaving through the throng, Hiei and Oklahoma got to Kaga, who greeted them politely. For all her faults, she recognize the importance of a seemingly united front. "Lady Hiei and… Oklahoma?"
"That's me!" Oklahoma grinned. "Pleased to meet ya, Miss Kaga."
"Charmed," Kaga said, "How was your trip to Hokkaido, Lady Hiei? Suitably productive?"Oh, that's how she wanted to play? Awfully bold for a woman who owed Hiei for her own cube.
"No cube as of yet, sadly," Hiei responded curtly.
"Well, I suppose your obligations must keep you busy. I provided the cube for Dai-8 just a few days ago."
"Congratulations. Did she take after you?"
"She seems quite promising, but her features…" Kaga shook her head.
"More fox ears?" Oklahoma gasped. Kaga rolled her eyes, but Oklahoma didn't seem to notice. Fair, considering that there was so much of Kaga to focus on.
"No. Moth's wings."
"On her back?" Hiei asked. That would be a surprise, even by Japanese standards.
"No. They come out near her ears, working like a sort of acoustic mirror."
"Cubes will never stop surprising us, hmm?"
Kaga laughed genuinely at that one. It was something of a change of pace to have her laughing due to humor, but it was still the same harsh, almost barking laugh as always. However, Kaga taking a break from her usual brooding on the edge of the party seemed to act as some sort of signal, summoning an officer who was creeping towards Kaga…
She sighed. "He's coming for me, isn't he? Excuse me, Hiei, Oklahoma. Perhaps we'll talk later. I'd love to compare gunnery." Maybe she should try to keep the girl away from Nevada. Hopefully, she'd be smart enough not to showboat in front of an enemy ship… but perhaps any attempt at guiding her away from Nevada would only lead to her getting closer.
"She didn't seem that upset," Oklahoma whispered. Bless her.
(Despite herself, Hiei considered what a fight would be like. Kaga outmatched Oklahoma in speed and firepower and could easily control the range of the engagement to hit Oklahoma's admittedly better armor without getting hit in turn. Kaga seemed like the sort to make those same comparisons, Hiei thought.
When Kaga deigned to walk among the mob instead of observing the party from on high, she did so with supreme confidence. Perhaps it was due to a well-founded suspicion she could kill almost every person in the room.)
"One last thing before you three go," Hiei said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out three amulets. "Gifts from Fusou. They're called omamori."
"Thank you, Miss Hiei." Oklahoma grinned and made to tie it to her uniform without a second's delay.
"It's beautiful," Arizona said, taking a moment to admire the silk brocade. "We're, ah- very grateful you hosted us–" Was she getting a little teary-eyed? At the very least, her smile assured Hiei those little droplets were happy. Or as happy as a parting could get.
"It's really been swell, Hiei," Nevada said. "Here's hoping we meet again sometime." In good circumstances, obviously. None of them wanted a war.
"Perhaps the charms will help." Hiei said. "And don't worry – they're general good luck charms, not romance-focused ones."
Nevada grinned. "They'd better be, or you'll be meeting Penny before you'd like."
After a few goodbyes that were a bit more official, the Americans departed for Indochina, the Philippines, et cetera… perhaps more fun was on the way for them. Hopefully, that business with the strikes in Britain would clear up before they got there. Foreign Kansen and civil unrest didn't sound like a winning combination.
It was time to get back to looking after their own house. Perhaps she could have stepped in to take control of the parties and foodstuffs back from Fusou, but she was proving herself a good leader. A bit more time in a low-stakes environment might be what she needed to really come into her own, and Kongou would love to have Fusou as a leader in her camp.
Her visit to Hokkaido had essentially been a vacation, but from what her men said, their stay in Ōminato was a little less fun. Perhaps that was part and parcel when it came to military lodgings, but she got the impression of at least some neglect on the Navy's part. Perhaps that was because so much of the budget – well, the part not poured into the construction of new ships – was focused on Kansen Central in Yokosuka.
Her mind kept on drifting back to Hokkaido. Rolling hills, cattle and horses in the meadow, verdant forest, a people not bound quite as tightly by the decorum of proper Japanese society. And the flip side of that. Primeval Ezo, home of a doomed samurai democracy and an ancient people before that. A land where gods roamed in the form of owls and bears, ancient tradition pushed back and back into the hinterlands.
While Yokosuka was far removed from Hokkaido, it was near the capital, close enough that it was no trouble at all to send for some paperwork. Or more specifically, a copy of a law from Meiji 32 (about a quarter of a century ago).
The Hokkaido Former Aborigines Protection Act.
It was nearly as charming a name as the Hokkaido Development Commission. Less formally, the Hokkaido Colonization Office. Years after the Commission seeded the land with military settlers, including samurai who had lost their employment in the Meiji restoration. Funny that the first thing they did after having their ancient way of life destroyed was to go off and do the same to somebody else.
But the Protection Act was a bit more advanced. It was remarkably Western, remarkably American, in that it said it would protect the natives and then proceeded to obliterate their livelihood for the sake of a 'better' one. Claim the land and give it back in hysterically lopsided doles – 15 thousand tsubo to an Ainu household, 100 thousand tsubo to a Japanese head – and then take it back from the Ainu when they couldn't make lacking land into farmland for want of any experience with farming. Oh, and open schools that taught Ainu children Japanese while you were at it.
Hokkaido really was like America, wasn't it? Colonial, rugged, and rotten on the inside. What happened in Hokkaido didn't discount what happened in America, didn't even compare to what the great imperialist powers had done and would do if they could, but it was a problem Japan caused.
She had no control over what happened in Nevada, Arizona, Oklahoma, or any other place the natives of America still roamed. In Japan she had a bit more sway, but it wasn't quite enough to control the goings-on in Hokkaido, was it? But she could see the trajectory that history was tracing, could see the damage already done.
Kongou wasn't liking the news from Britain. Any strike large enough to become international news was no laughing matter, of course, but it had been followed by violence. In addition to her own personal liking for Britain as a country, she didn't like variability. Revolution and unrest threw a wrench in her estimates. And yes she was aware that the ideal model she dreamt of didn't describe any real nation, but unrest was especially irksome. Are drills slowed as part of military budget cuts or do they spend more? Who knew! And gods help you if something like France happened again. There was a simply unacceptable amount of range in those cube number estimates. How many of the British ships sold to National France were cubed? How many cubed French ships got away to Algiers specifically?
There was a knocking on her door. "Who is it?"
"Hiei."
"Come in!"
Hiei opened the door and smiled. "At work again?"
"Yes. Did it seem like the Americans were developing cubes yet?"
"I don't think so," Hiei said. "If I had to guess, they probably get their first partway across the Indian Ocean."
"The papers should tell us," Kongou said. They'd be tracing the American tour in the news, of course. "Sorry, Hiei. You needed something, right?"
"Yes. I'd like a temporary station in Ōminato."
Kongou blinked, but then gestured for her sister to continue.
"My crew didn't have anything good to say about the base, and it has had no preparation as a home for Kansen. I wish to resolve both of those issues."
"Stationing Kansen there long term would keep our eggs out of one basket…"
"And then, of course, there's morale." Hiei grinned.
Kongou chuckled. "And that's it?"
"I'd like to give Fusou some more time to grow into her own… and I'd like to see Hokkaido again. Call it a passing fancy."
"You have to visit home often, alright?"
"Maybe you can throw me a party every time I come back."
Funnily enough, she felt it as she sailed to Ōminato. There was no mistaking it for anything else: having a cube was a unique experience. Unique to Kansen at least.
And perhaps 'having' was a strange word for it, but it was hard to think of an apt descriptor. Did she host it? The comparisons to pregnancy and childrearing were rather obvious, but maybe it had more in common with eggs? Silly question. She knew what it was like for her, and that was enough.
It was as if the thoughts and experiences in her mind gathered into a cloud, forming a sort of… weight, a nucleus, that drifted down like a snowflake until it pulsed within her breast. The sensation wasn't new to her, but it was reliably exciting. A promise of something new.
Of course, the responsible thing to do would be delivering it to one of her officers. He would contact command, figure out if it was needed somewhere else, and then ensure it got there. Perhaps it would go to some trustworthy officer aboard Dai-3, or perhaps it would be set aside for an upcoming ship.
And yet… the cube was Hiei's, wasn't it? She didn't particularly want it passed into the hands of somebody else. At least once, she'd like to see the process without a middleman.
Without freeing the cube from wherever it sat before taking physical form, she crept away from her ship and made for Dai-3. Vaguely, she thought Kirishima might have some advice for this sort of situation.
Dai-3 waited for her, and the cube inside her seemed to be waiting for it. It almost seemed to jump, fluttering inside her. Was this what an officer felt while holding a cube in his hands?
One of the crew noticed her. "Ma'am?" he muttered.
It was impolite to ignore him, but in her defense, it felt as he was interrupting a conversation. The feeling of the cube grew alien, no longer an extension of herself but an other.
There was no need for her to manifest it in her hands. She laid her palm against the superstructure and a wave of blue light shot across the ship's side, a glowing ripple centered on her hand. Again. Again. Surely, every man inside the ship had to have noticed this lightshow –
But such a thing wasn't important. What was important was Dai-3, her companion on the Hokkaido expedition.
Who are you, Dai-3? Your name doesn't say much. What sort of character would you get from the name San?
A brisk Hokkaido breeze teased her hair. Before the change to the numbering naming scheme, wasn't the plan to name them after winds?
A divine wind? Or merely a light one? Perhaps a breeze or a squall? Who were you?
There was a flash more brilliant than all that came before, one that forced Hiei to shut her eyes for a moment. Blinking the blindness away, the first thing Hiei spotted was a smile.
A broad, broad smile. Too broad, and soot-black besides. Not a smile then. A tattoo.
Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow.
For what is your life?
It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.