Flight Deck Envy.
- Location
- 'Murica
Destroyer Fubuki, first of the Special-Types and mother of all modern destroyers worried the end of her sky-blue neckerchief as she steamed a few hundred yards of Jersey's flank. Her short ponytail streamed behind her in the gentle winter breeze, and her sleek hull glided over the water like polished steel on velvet. Still though, she couldn't help but feel a tiny bit antsy.
"Yo, snow-cone," Jersey ruffled the girl's hair with a smile, "Something the matter?"
"Ah!" Fubuki tensed as Jersey… as her new sempai didn't just address her. She called her a cute pet-name while lovingly caressing her hair. Her hair! If Manga had taught her anything, it was that headpats were one of the most intimate and loving things someone could offer. "Ah, Jersey-sempai, it's-" The destroyer's mind ground to a halt. "Snow cone?"
"Yeah," Jersey nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Fubuki tilted her head to the side.
"Your name means snow-storm," said Jersey, "So… you know… snow-cone."
Fubuki blinked. "You speak Japanese?"
Jersey rolled her eyes. Fubuki couldn't actualy see the American's eyes though her shades—something that made her infinitely thankful. Those icy-blue eyes terrified her—but she could just tell from the battleship's posture. Jersey didn't do anything subtly.
"I spent years with you as my enemy," said the towering American, "And decades with you as my ally. Yes, I know fucking moon-moon."
Fubuki's mouth chomped at the air for almost a solid minute while her brain spun its wheels against nothing in a frantic attempt to make sense of this new revelation. "But…" She wordlessly pointed to where Yuudachi happily poi'd away a few thousand yards away, "But…"
Jersey followed the destroyer's gaze, then looked back to Fubuki. "Yeah?"
"So," Fubuki waved her hands in inarticulate attempts to communicate 'poi' though gestures."Um."
"What?" Jersey's nose scrunched up.
Fubuki blinked. "Never mind.
"Yeah," Jersey nodded. "Good talk. Anyway, the fuck's up with you lately? You've been acting squirrelly for the past half hour."
"Oh, um," Fubuki pulled her shirt smooth. Her heels clicked together as she got ready to address her commander. "I was worried we might be steaming into a trap."
Jersey cocked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Fubuki nodded. "But… you don't seem so worried…"
"RCN's got this area locked up pretty tight," said Jersey. "They got P-3s, P-8s, Flowers… hell, there's probably enough active sonar buoys in the water that you can walk all the way back to Tokyo."
Fubuki coughed, then looked at her feet. Which were currently skimming over the water like water skies. "Um…"
"Well, not you you, but uh," Jersey scowled, "Fuck, um… that… that fucking metaphor works better when you're not a boat."
"Poi~," opined Yuudachi.
"NOBODY ASKED YOU!" bellowed Jersey.
Yuudachi just flipped her flowing silk scarf over her shoulder and shot back a smiling wave.
Jersey growled something angry and American in return.
"Jersey-sempai?" Fubuki tried to hide a snicker. Tried and failed. "If you speak Japanese, how come you don't know what 'poi' means?"
"Because," Jersey's entire body seemed to fume with impotent rage, "every fucking time I duck into my radio room to ask for a translation, all I get from the shithead radiomen is 'poi means poi. Ain't gotta explain shit, poi'."
Fubuki blinked.
Kongou Dessed.
Something purred.
Fubuki blinked again, "Was that-"
"A K-type?" Jersey smirked, and waved to something in the sky. The slightly squashed spherical shape of an enormous silver-gray cat staring down at the little surface fleet with furious disinterest. "Yeah," Jersey smiled and waved at the hovering feline. "That's the other reason I'm not worried about subs or any shit."
"Oh," Fubuki timidly waved at the hovering cat, who just returned a look that made her feel inexplicably guilty. "Oh… okay."
Jersey smiled and ruffled the girl's hair. "Relax, okay? Frisco's been poking them for the past day or so. They've changed course three times." Her smile shifted from a pleasant kind, like she was reassuring a daughter or friend, to a bloodthirsty slasher grin, "They're not running to anywhere. They're running away from death."
"And into us?" added Fubuki.
"Hell fucking yeah, kiddo." Jersey planted her hands on her hips. "It's good thinking though," she added. "Why don't you sprint 'n drift for a while, see if you catch anything."
Fubuki's little chest swelled with pride. "Fubuki will do her best!"
Jersey smiled and gave the little destroyer's hair another ruffle. Then her gaze went slack and she did that 'finger-to-ear' thing she did whenever her radio room was getting a message from The Admiral.
"Go for Jersey," she said. Her head bobbed as she took in the message, her free hand tensing at her hip, then going slack once more with a quiet chuckle. "Heh, told you he was a smart one." A pause, "Yeah, I'll tell her. Thanks for letting me know, sir."
The battleship lowered her hand and smirked.
"What was that?" asked Fubuki.
"Well, doc Crowning" Jersey crashed to a halt and thrust a finger at Fubuki, "Who's not my boyfriend, so don't you start."
The special-type held her hands up defensively.
"Anyways," Jersey coughed, "He figured out the riddle of the summonings," Jersey smirked and drew in a huge breath. "Which means… YO, MUSHI!" she bellowed.
"SPEAKING!" thundered back Musashi.
"Got a call from The Admiral," Jersey's voice dropped back to its usual register, "Your lil' sister's back."
Musashi opened her mouth to snap back a retort, then her face froze mid-bluster. Her snowy hair tufts twitched in the breeze as her chest deflated a little. "Wait, did you say little sister?"
Jersey nodded.
"Huh," Musashi started to smile, then caught herself and covered it with a suitably bombastic brooding scowl. "I never met Shinano, I wonder what she's like."
Jersey laughed, "They didn't say. But knowing you…" The American made a show of staring up and down Musashi's undulating deck, "Ego the size of the sun and tits the size of a moon, probably."
Musashi flashed Jersey a scowling pout, then glanced down at her chest. Her bombastic smile turned into a thoughtful expression, her lips pursing as she gently sized up her own pagodas until she came to the only clear conclusion. "Accurate."
Jersey rolled her eyes. "You two will be fucking insufferable."
—|—|—
Shinano clasped her hands to her breasts and awkwardly shuffled along the slick dockhouse tile. She kept her stern close to the wall and her shoulders slumped, trying her very hardest to make herself small and easily missed. It wasn't really working, even the faint steam clouds coming off the warm baths weren't enough to hide her towering frame, but it was a fiction that the carrier clung to like a drowning man.
Because she wasn't alone.
Shinano let out a whimper that echoed back at her off the polished tile. She wasn't— actually, yes. She was scared. She was naked, she didn't even have a single qualified pilot to her name, and she was sharing a dock house with other carriers. Proper carriers. Girls who'd done their nation proud.
Not… like her. She could feel their eyes on her as she shuffled over to the pier where Akashi's repair faeries were milling around waiting for her. A pier… right next to a sleeping Ryuujou.
Shinano whimpered again, and stared down at her chest. The towering carrier sniffed and glanced over at the sleeping warship. The former flagship of CarDiv 1. A proper carrier, a ship with a carrier's deck, not… not the bulges of a battleship.
At least Ryuujou was asleep. It gave Shinano a few precious moments to get herself hidden under the sweet-smelling water. After testing it with her toe—it felt… right. That was the only way Shinano could think to explain it. 'right'—she slid her towering body into the water as fast as she could without generating enough turbulence to nap her piermate.
The steaming water enveloped the giant carrier like a blanket as she struggled to get her towering frame to fit. Her legs were just too long to fit right, even crossed and bent at an odd angle, her thighs breached the water's surface. And the water, no matter how warm and calming it might be, was as clear as crystal.
The tiny rainbow shimmer of oil wasn't enough to hide Shinano's submerged bulk. The instant Ryuujou woke up, she'd see everything.
And then she'd probably laugh, because she was a real carrier.
If only White was here. Shinano liked White, she was nice, and she taught her how to be… how to be useful. That's all Shinano really wanted, she could leave being Symbols Of The Nation to her big sisters, she just wanted to be worth her steel.
That's when the repair team Akashi'd left waiting for her jumped aboard. Their teeny tiny faerie feet poked into the muscle of her belly, ticking her as they shuffled up and down her body with miniature clipboards held at the ready. One of them—one of the few wearing itty-bitty officer's uniforms—clambered up her fat braid only to rappel back down her bangs and give her a report while perched on the tip of her nose.
Shinano stifled a giggle as tiny fae feet tickled their way up and down her hull. She could feel them shuffling around inside her watertight bulkheads, sense then welding up watertight doors that… weren't. Her stomach tensed and the carrier balled up as waves of tickle-fused laughter flowed though her giant body.
She smiled and twisted around in her berth, water splashing around her with each motion. For the first time in a while, she fell happy. Purely, totally happy, without a shred of worry at all.
"Mmmm… whazzat?"
And then the worry came back.
Shinano slowly rolled over to where Ryuujou was sleeping. Or not sleeping as the case may be. The Proper flattop rubbed at her eyes and let out a loud yawn. "Hiya," she said, tossing a lazy nod to Shinano.
"Eep!" Shinano clapped her hands to her breasts and squeezed, her body sinking under the water until nothing above her nose was visible. And then she went very still, hoping that somehow Ryuujou wouldn't notice her if she wasn't moving.
For a moment, it looked like it was working. Then Ryuujou leaned over to rest her arms on the dividing pier, those big kind eye focused right at Shinano's glasses. The little carrier smiled a toothy, friendly smile at Shinano and waited for her response.
"Um," Shinano tried to sink even deeper, but her stern was already kissing the tiled bottom of the berthing pool. Curse these shallow, annoyingly clear waters. They might have been good for repairing her damaged hull, but they were useless at hiding it. "Hi."
"Don't recognize ya," Ryuujou let her chin slump against the tile. Her lazy, friendly Kansai accent should be soothing to the giant carrier, but Shinano couldn't help but feel condemnation in every friendly note. She didn't have to prove anything. She was a proper carrier. She was useful. "What's your name, hun?"
"Sh-shinano," was all Shinano could stammer out before sinking down into the warm, soothing water until it lapped at her nose.
Ryuujou made a face. One brow crept up as she glanced down the towering carrier's giant body, examining every curve of her frame though the crystal-clear water with confusion. "Third of the Yamatos?"
Shinano nodded timidly.
"Ya know," Ryuujou made herself comfortable on the pier dividing the two girls. "Battleship docks are on t'other side of the building. I could show ya if-"
"Not a battleship," muttered Shinano, her cheeks all but glowing red as she crossed her massive legs. The giant carrier squirmed under the water, trying her hardest to keep Ryuujou from getting a good look.
"Huh?" Ryuujou tilted first her head, then her entire upper body. "But…"
"I… I was converted," said Shinano. "After Midway, um…" She pushed her glasses up her pert nose with a sniffle, "They needed more carriers, so… they decked me over."
"That so?" Ryuujou puffed out her cheeks and huffed.
For a moment, the little carrier just stared into the distance and thought. Shinano was just happy she wasn't staring at her. Even if the former CarDiv 1 flagship was too nice to outright laugh at her… her gaze burned the converted battleship's hull.
"Fleet carrier docks are one door down," said Ryuujou. "You'd probably fit a lot better in Kaga's bear-"
Shinano shook her head, her chunky braid swishing around below her. "Not a fleet carrier."
"Huh?" Ryuujou did that whole-body tilt again, her gaze drifting back along Shinano's enormous body. Incredulity was painted so large across the little carrier's face, Shinano could read it even without her glasses.
"I…" Shinano willed herself small, "I only carry forty-seven planes."
Ryuujou's look of confusion only deepened. Her gaze bounced from her own flight-deck chest, to Shinano's bulging—though obviously not aviation-rated—breasts, then back to her own upperworks. "Well… uh…" the little carrier coughed.
Shinano sunk lower into the tub, trying desperately to turn herself into a submarine. A very, very small submarine that could avoid the light carrier's judgment-heavy gaze.
Ryuujou thought for a moment. Then her face recoiled in a wince and she shot Shinano the warmest, sweetest look the big carrier had ever seen coming from someone who wasn't White. "Shinano, you don't… you're not comfortable around me, are you?"
Shinano glanced down at her obviously unfit-for-aviation… everything. "Mmhm," she mumbled.
"I could leave," Ryuujou pulled herself up onto the side of the pool, water cascading off her lean, naked body and painting a picture of just how superior she was to the half-assed conversion.
"No!" Before she knew it, Shinano's muscular arm shot out across the tile, grabbing hold of Ryuujou's slender leg in her tight grasp. "P-please," she blushed and awkwardly withdrew her hand, "I… I don't want to be alone."
Ryuujou sighed and slipped back into the pool. "I just don't like seeing… anyone like that."
Shinano nodded sadly.
Ryuujou sank against the warm tile, her own slender body disappearing beneath the perfumed water in ways Shinano's enormous, unwieldy bulk never could. For a few moments, the carriers just started at the other wall in thought.
Shinano sniffed and a team of Akashi's faeries handed her a hankerchief.
"You know," Ryuujou made a point of looking anywhere but at her piermate, "Americans dock in swimsuits."
"Hmm?" Shinano dabbed at her nose and glanced over.
"If…" Ryuujou shrugged, "I mean, think you'd be more comfortable with somthin' covering you?"
Shinano glanced down at herself, then offered a barely precipitable nod. "Where… I mean… I'm kinda big."
Ryuujou shrugged. "Think you could fit into Akagi's-"
Shinano shook her head. "No.. I'm… She's almost half my displacement. What about my sister?"
"Musashi?" Ryuujou shook her head. "I think she took all her stuff with her, and… well…" The little carrier shrugged, "She don't exactly wear much."
"Oh," Shinano's countenance somehow dimmed another shade.
Ryuujou sighed. Then she snapped her fingers, "Although…" She vaulted out of her berth and sprinted for the showers, her bare feet slapping a fanatic rhythm against the tile. "I'll be right back!" she said as she skidded around a corner, "I just had a really great idea."
Shinano blinked. She glanced at one of the fae balancing on her knee, who just offered a teeny tiny stare in return. "Um… okay."
For a few moments, nothing happened. At least nothing other then the sounds of furious improvisation and ad-hoc remodeling coming from the shower room. Tile cracked, metal bent and gave way, and some sort of heavy fabric rustled.
A few minutes later, Ryuujou trotted back with a pile of the semi-opaque shower curtains in her arms. "Togas!"
Shinano just mouthed at the air while her brain struggled to catch up with the sudden turn of events. Being a girl—no, being around at all was hard. Everyone on this base was crazy. "Um…" Shinano rolled onto her belly, "Yay?"
"C'mon!" Ryuujou tossed Shinano a pile of fabric, and busied herself with lashing one of the curtains around her much smaller form.
Shinano sheepishly swam over to the slowly-sinking pile of waterproof fabric and bundled it all into a… bundle. "Um, Ryuujou, would you mind…?"
"Oh, yeah, no prob'm!" Ryuujou nodded and spun on her heel. She was there if Shinano needed her, but she wasn't going to cast her gaze over the carrier's attempts to get decent.
Which was a good thing, too. It took almost fifteen minutes for her to rig the heavy fabric into something approximating an article of clothing. She still didn't feel totally comfortable, it was awfully short and ever breath she take made her feel like her breasts were going to come spilling out of every jury-rigged seam.
Still… it was better than being naked. "Okay, um," Shinano sank back into the water, "It's okay, now, Ryuujou. I'm decent."
"You look good," Ryuujou said as she turned on her heel. The much smaller carrier had managed to rig her outfit into a beautiful, almost floor-length gown that flowed behind her as she moved. "You feel better?"
Shinano nodded.
"Good!" Ryuujou leaned over to give the giant carrier a hug. Or at least the closest approximation of a hug she could manage when her arms weren't quite long enough to close around her. "Heal up, okay?"
Shinano pushed her glasses up, "Okay."
"Yo, snow-cone," Jersey ruffled the girl's hair with a smile, "Something the matter?"
"Ah!" Fubuki tensed as Jersey… as her new sempai didn't just address her. She called her a cute pet-name while lovingly caressing her hair. Her hair! If Manga had taught her anything, it was that headpats were one of the most intimate and loving things someone could offer. "Ah, Jersey-sempai, it's-" The destroyer's mind ground to a halt. "Snow cone?"
"Yeah," Jersey nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Fubuki tilted her head to the side.
"Your name means snow-storm," said Jersey, "So… you know… snow-cone."
Fubuki blinked. "You speak Japanese?"
Jersey rolled her eyes. Fubuki couldn't actualy see the American's eyes though her shades—something that made her infinitely thankful. Those icy-blue eyes terrified her—but she could just tell from the battleship's posture. Jersey didn't do anything subtly.
"I spent years with you as my enemy," said the towering American, "And decades with you as my ally. Yes, I know fucking moon-moon."
Fubuki's mouth chomped at the air for almost a solid minute while her brain spun its wheels against nothing in a frantic attempt to make sense of this new revelation. "But…" She wordlessly pointed to where Yuudachi happily poi'd away a few thousand yards away, "But…"
Jersey followed the destroyer's gaze, then looked back to Fubuki. "Yeah?"
"So," Fubuki waved her hands in inarticulate attempts to communicate 'poi' though gestures."Um."
"What?" Jersey's nose scrunched up.
Fubuki blinked. "Never mind.
"Yeah," Jersey nodded. "Good talk. Anyway, the fuck's up with you lately? You've been acting squirrelly for the past half hour."
"Oh, um," Fubuki pulled her shirt smooth. Her heels clicked together as she got ready to address her commander. "I was worried we might be steaming into a trap."
Jersey cocked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Fubuki nodded. "But… you don't seem so worried…"
"RCN's got this area locked up pretty tight," said Jersey. "They got P-3s, P-8s, Flowers… hell, there's probably enough active sonar buoys in the water that you can walk all the way back to Tokyo."
Fubuki coughed, then looked at her feet. Which were currently skimming over the water like water skies. "Um…"
"Well, not you you, but uh," Jersey scowled, "Fuck, um… that… that fucking metaphor works better when you're not a boat."
"Poi~," opined Yuudachi.
"NOBODY ASKED YOU!" bellowed Jersey.
Yuudachi just flipped her flowing silk scarf over her shoulder and shot back a smiling wave.
Jersey growled something angry and American in return.
"Jersey-sempai?" Fubuki tried to hide a snicker. Tried and failed. "If you speak Japanese, how come you don't know what 'poi' means?"
"Because," Jersey's entire body seemed to fume with impotent rage, "every fucking time I duck into my radio room to ask for a translation, all I get from the shithead radiomen is 'poi means poi. Ain't gotta explain shit, poi'."
Fubuki blinked.
Kongou Dessed.
Something purred.
Fubuki blinked again, "Was that-"
"A K-type?" Jersey smirked, and waved to something in the sky. The slightly squashed spherical shape of an enormous silver-gray cat staring down at the little surface fleet with furious disinterest. "Yeah," Jersey smiled and waved at the hovering feline. "That's the other reason I'm not worried about subs or any shit."
"Oh," Fubuki timidly waved at the hovering cat, who just returned a look that made her feel inexplicably guilty. "Oh… okay."
Jersey smiled and ruffled the girl's hair. "Relax, okay? Frisco's been poking them for the past day or so. They've changed course three times." Her smile shifted from a pleasant kind, like she was reassuring a daughter or friend, to a bloodthirsty slasher grin, "They're not running to anywhere. They're running away from death."
"And into us?" added Fubuki.
"Hell fucking yeah, kiddo." Jersey planted her hands on her hips. "It's good thinking though," she added. "Why don't you sprint 'n drift for a while, see if you catch anything."
Fubuki's little chest swelled with pride. "Fubuki will do her best!"
Jersey smiled and gave the little destroyer's hair another ruffle. Then her gaze went slack and she did that 'finger-to-ear' thing she did whenever her radio room was getting a message from The Admiral.
"Go for Jersey," she said. Her head bobbed as she took in the message, her free hand tensing at her hip, then going slack once more with a quiet chuckle. "Heh, told you he was a smart one." A pause, "Yeah, I'll tell her. Thanks for letting me know, sir."
The battleship lowered her hand and smirked.
"What was that?" asked Fubuki.
"Well, doc Crowning" Jersey crashed to a halt and thrust a finger at Fubuki, "Who's not my boyfriend, so don't you start."
The special-type held her hands up defensively.
"Anyways," Jersey coughed, "He figured out the riddle of the summonings," Jersey smirked and drew in a huge breath. "Which means… YO, MUSHI!" she bellowed.
"SPEAKING!" thundered back Musashi.
"Got a call from The Admiral," Jersey's voice dropped back to its usual register, "Your lil' sister's back."
Musashi opened her mouth to snap back a retort, then her face froze mid-bluster. Her snowy hair tufts twitched in the breeze as her chest deflated a little. "Wait, did you say little sister?"
Jersey nodded.
"Huh," Musashi started to smile, then caught herself and covered it with a suitably bombastic brooding scowl. "I never met Shinano, I wonder what she's like."
Jersey laughed, "They didn't say. But knowing you…" The American made a show of staring up and down Musashi's undulating deck, "Ego the size of the sun and tits the size of a moon, probably."
Musashi flashed Jersey a scowling pout, then glanced down at her chest. Her bombastic smile turned into a thoughtful expression, her lips pursing as she gently sized up her own pagodas until she came to the only clear conclusion. "Accurate."
Jersey rolled her eyes. "You two will be fucking insufferable."
—|—|—
Shinano clasped her hands to her breasts and awkwardly shuffled along the slick dockhouse tile. She kept her stern close to the wall and her shoulders slumped, trying her very hardest to make herself small and easily missed. It wasn't really working, even the faint steam clouds coming off the warm baths weren't enough to hide her towering frame, but it was a fiction that the carrier clung to like a drowning man.
Because she wasn't alone.
Shinano let out a whimper that echoed back at her off the polished tile. She wasn't— actually, yes. She was scared. She was naked, she didn't even have a single qualified pilot to her name, and she was sharing a dock house with other carriers. Proper carriers. Girls who'd done their nation proud.
Not… like her. She could feel their eyes on her as she shuffled over to the pier where Akashi's repair faeries were milling around waiting for her. A pier… right next to a sleeping Ryuujou.
Shinano whimpered again, and stared down at her chest. The towering carrier sniffed and glanced over at the sleeping warship. The former flagship of CarDiv 1. A proper carrier, a ship with a carrier's deck, not… not the bulges of a battleship.
At least Ryuujou was asleep. It gave Shinano a few precious moments to get herself hidden under the sweet-smelling water. After testing it with her toe—it felt… right. That was the only way Shinano could think to explain it. 'right'—she slid her towering body into the water as fast as she could without generating enough turbulence to nap her piermate.
The steaming water enveloped the giant carrier like a blanket as she struggled to get her towering frame to fit. Her legs were just too long to fit right, even crossed and bent at an odd angle, her thighs breached the water's surface. And the water, no matter how warm and calming it might be, was as clear as crystal.
The tiny rainbow shimmer of oil wasn't enough to hide Shinano's submerged bulk. The instant Ryuujou woke up, she'd see everything.
And then she'd probably laugh, because she was a real carrier.
If only White was here. Shinano liked White, she was nice, and she taught her how to be… how to be useful. That's all Shinano really wanted, she could leave being Symbols Of The Nation to her big sisters, she just wanted to be worth her steel.
That's when the repair team Akashi'd left waiting for her jumped aboard. Their teeny tiny faerie feet poked into the muscle of her belly, ticking her as they shuffled up and down her body with miniature clipboards held at the ready. One of them—one of the few wearing itty-bitty officer's uniforms—clambered up her fat braid only to rappel back down her bangs and give her a report while perched on the tip of her nose.
Shinano stifled a giggle as tiny fae feet tickled their way up and down her hull. She could feel them shuffling around inside her watertight bulkheads, sense then welding up watertight doors that… weren't. Her stomach tensed and the carrier balled up as waves of tickle-fused laughter flowed though her giant body.
She smiled and twisted around in her berth, water splashing around her with each motion. For the first time in a while, she fell happy. Purely, totally happy, without a shred of worry at all.
"Mmmm… whazzat?"
And then the worry came back.
Shinano slowly rolled over to where Ryuujou was sleeping. Or not sleeping as the case may be. The Proper flattop rubbed at her eyes and let out a loud yawn. "Hiya," she said, tossing a lazy nod to Shinano.
"Eep!" Shinano clapped her hands to her breasts and squeezed, her body sinking under the water until nothing above her nose was visible. And then she went very still, hoping that somehow Ryuujou wouldn't notice her if she wasn't moving.
For a moment, it looked like it was working. Then Ryuujou leaned over to rest her arms on the dividing pier, those big kind eye focused right at Shinano's glasses. The little carrier smiled a toothy, friendly smile at Shinano and waited for her response.
"Um," Shinano tried to sink even deeper, but her stern was already kissing the tiled bottom of the berthing pool. Curse these shallow, annoyingly clear waters. They might have been good for repairing her damaged hull, but they were useless at hiding it. "Hi."
"Don't recognize ya," Ryuujou let her chin slump against the tile. Her lazy, friendly Kansai accent should be soothing to the giant carrier, but Shinano couldn't help but feel condemnation in every friendly note. She didn't have to prove anything. She was a proper carrier. She was useful. "What's your name, hun?"
"Sh-shinano," was all Shinano could stammer out before sinking down into the warm, soothing water until it lapped at her nose.
Ryuujou made a face. One brow crept up as she glanced down the towering carrier's giant body, examining every curve of her frame though the crystal-clear water with confusion. "Third of the Yamatos?"
Shinano nodded timidly.
"Ya know," Ryuujou made herself comfortable on the pier dividing the two girls. "Battleship docks are on t'other side of the building. I could show ya if-"
"Not a battleship," muttered Shinano, her cheeks all but glowing red as she crossed her massive legs. The giant carrier squirmed under the water, trying her hardest to keep Ryuujou from getting a good look.
"Huh?" Ryuujou tilted first her head, then her entire upper body. "But…"
"I… I was converted," said Shinano. "After Midway, um…" She pushed her glasses up her pert nose with a sniffle, "They needed more carriers, so… they decked me over."
"That so?" Ryuujou puffed out her cheeks and huffed.
For a moment, the little carrier just stared into the distance and thought. Shinano was just happy she wasn't staring at her. Even if the former CarDiv 1 flagship was too nice to outright laugh at her… her gaze burned the converted battleship's hull.
"Fleet carrier docks are one door down," said Ryuujou. "You'd probably fit a lot better in Kaga's bear-"
Shinano shook her head, her chunky braid swishing around below her. "Not a fleet carrier."
"Huh?" Ryuujou did that whole-body tilt again, her gaze drifting back along Shinano's enormous body. Incredulity was painted so large across the little carrier's face, Shinano could read it even without her glasses.
"I…" Shinano willed herself small, "I only carry forty-seven planes."
Ryuujou's look of confusion only deepened. Her gaze bounced from her own flight-deck chest, to Shinano's bulging—though obviously not aviation-rated—breasts, then back to her own upperworks. "Well… uh…" the little carrier coughed.
Shinano sunk lower into the tub, trying desperately to turn herself into a submarine. A very, very small submarine that could avoid the light carrier's judgment-heavy gaze.
Ryuujou thought for a moment. Then her face recoiled in a wince and she shot Shinano the warmest, sweetest look the big carrier had ever seen coming from someone who wasn't White. "Shinano, you don't… you're not comfortable around me, are you?"
Shinano glanced down at her obviously unfit-for-aviation… everything. "Mmhm," she mumbled.
"I could leave," Ryuujou pulled herself up onto the side of the pool, water cascading off her lean, naked body and painting a picture of just how superior she was to the half-assed conversion.
"No!" Before she knew it, Shinano's muscular arm shot out across the tile, grabbing hold of Ryuujou's slender leg in her tight grasp. "P-please," she blushed and awkwardly withdrew her hand, "I… I don't want to be alone."
Ryuujou sighed and slipped back into the pool. "I just don't like seeing… anyone like that."
Shinano nodded sadly.
Ryuujou sank against the warm tile, her own slender body disappearing beneath the perfumed water in ways Shinano's enormous, unwieldy bulk never could. For a few moments, the carriers just started at the other wall in thought.
Shinano sniffed and a team of Akashi's faeries handed her a hankerchief.
"You know," Ryuujou made a point of looking anywhere but at her piermate, "Americans dock in swimsuits."
"Hmm?" Shinano dabbed at her nose and glanced over.
"If…" Ryuujou shrugged, "I mean, think you'd be more comfortable with somthin' covering you?"
Shinano glanced down at herself, then offered a barely precipitable nod. "Where… I mean… I'm kinda big."
Ryuujou shrugged. "Think you could fit into Akagi's-"
Shinano shook her head. "No.. I'm… She's almost half my displacement. What about my sister?"
"Musashi?" Ryuujou shook her head. "I think she took all her stuff with her, and… well…" The little carrier shrugged, "She don't exactly wear much."
"Oh," Shinano's countenance somehow dimmed another shade.
Ryuujou sighed. Then she snapped her fingers, "Although…" She vaulted out of her berth and sprinted for the showers, her bare feet slapping a fanatic rhythm against the tile. "I'll be right back!" she said as she skidded around a corner, "I just had a really great idea."
Shinano blinked. She glanced at one of the fae balancing on her knee, who just offered a teeny tiny stare in return. "Um… okay."
For a few moments, nothing happened. At least nothing other then the sounds of furious improvisation and ad-hoc remodeling coming from the shower room. Tile cracked, metal bent and gave way, and some sort of heavy fabric rustled.
A few minutes later, Ryuujou trotted back with a pile of the semi-opaque shower curtains in her arms. "Togas!"
Shinano just mouthed at the air while her brain struggled to catch up with the sudden turn of events. Being a girl—no, being around at all was hard. Everyone on this base was crazy. "Um…" Shinano rolled onto her belly, "Yay?"
"C'mon!" Ryuujou tossed Shinano a pile of fabric, and busied herself with lashing one of the curtains around her much smaller form.
Shinano sheepishly swam over to the slowly-sinking pile of waterproof fabric and bundled it all into a… bundle. "Um, Ryuujou, would you mind…?"
"Oh, yeah, no prob'm!" Ryuujou nodded and spun on her heel. She was there if Shinano needed her, but she wasn't going to cast her gaze over the carrier's attempts to get decent.
Which was a good thing, too. It took almost fifteen minutes for her to rig the heavy fabric into something approximating an article of clothing. She still didn't feel totally comfortable, it was awfully short and ever breath she take made her feel like her breasts were going to come spilling out of every jury-rigged seam.
Still… it was better than being naked. "Okay, um," Shinano sank back into the water, "It's okay, now, Ryuujou. I'm decent."
"You look good," Ryuujou said as she turned on her heel. The much smaller carrier had managed to rig her outfit into a beautiful, almost floor-length gown that flowed behind her as she moved. "You feel better?"
Shinano nodded.
"Good!" Ryuujou leaned over to give the giant carrier a hug. Or at least the closest approximation of a hug she could manage when her arms weren't quite long enough to close around her. "Heal up, okay?"
Shinano pushed her glasses up, "Okay."
