What's this? Two updates in one night? It's a Christmas Miracle!
Part 33b
Just getting to the model shop was an experience in itself. Jersey'd never
seen so many people crammed so tightly together. And she was a
battleship. Her crews slept in bunks packed like… she wanted to say 'like sardines' but after that experience, she was starting to think 'like Japanese people' was a better metaphor.
It didn't help that an unreasonable number of said Japanese people were either dressed in some ridiculous outfit—Kirishima called it 'cosplay' as if that simple word explained all this fuck-oddness—or staring at her. Or some combination of both.
Frankly, Jersey didn't think her outfit was
that out of the ordinary. It
did do a rather good job of showing off her long, toned legs. Legs that even the battleship would happily admit were the very definition of 'amazing.' And no, she wasn't being vain. She was showing healthy admiration of- and thankfulness-for the engineers at General Electric who'd designed her monstrous turbines.
They made her the most powerful battleship ever assembled by human hands, she was just… showing off what they'd been so kind as to give her.
Not that it explained all the stares she was getting. People were crowding around her on all sides, blocking all view of those marvelous legs. The only part of her sticking up above the crowd was her head and shoulders, and there wasn't anything of note there. Even her strawberry blond hair wasn't out of place next to 'cosplayer' with neon-pink wigs!
But any lingering frustration vanished as soon as Kirishima lead the younger, taller battleship into humble-looking store with a simple sign in unreadable moon-moon gobbledygook.
Jersey'd never entered a hobby shop herself. A few of her sailors had, but their experiences were such a tiny sliver of her soul that it barely even rated as a half remembered dream. But as she stepped into the building, she felt a wash of familiar smash against her bow.
Every wall was covered in row after row after row of boxes, each proudly displaying a painted image of the kit inside. There were tanks here, trains there, figures over there… and Ships! A seemingly endless sea of model ships were piled six high on the shelves. Jersey smiled as she spotted a kit of none other than
Enterprise herself on proud display.
Right next to it was kit of Kongou—with new boxart to reflect the bouncy battleship's new female persona—and… And a kit of Mighty Mo with hand-written sign declaring her to be "Of the New Jersey Type."
But more than the kits, it was the
people that made Jersey feel at home. There had to be at least thirty of them crammed into what little space model kits weren't occupying. She guessed around half were sailors, and all of them were happily arguing the merits of this glue over that, this cruiser over that, this destroyer over that…
"Wow," breathed Jersey, carefully ducking under a flight of Zeros hanging from the ceiling. She felt like a kid on Christmas morning! Box after box called to her, singing their plastic siren songs to the impressionable battleship.
"buyyyy ussss," they crooned,
"buyyy ussssss, we're on saleeeeee"
"I need this," said Jersey, grabbing a 1/48th scale Tomcat model and balancing it atop her breast. "And this," she grabbed a handful of
utterly-adorable egg-shaped baby Tomcats. "Oh, and-" Jersey stopped as she came across a model tank.
It looked like
exactly the kind of tank the Taffies would design after a night gorging themselves on candy. She counted
at least eleven barrels, most of which were bigger than the crew. "Kirishima?"
"Hmm?"
Jersey spun around, balancing the tank preciously atop her already large stack. "Is this…?"
"Oh, that's a Baneblade," said the Japanese girl with a smile, "No, it's not a real tank."
Jersey scowled. "Damnit, I thought for a second the Ruskies really went off the deep end."
"Ah, Kirishima-san," a middle-aged Japanese man walked over to the two women, his round face glowing with a luminescent smile. Judging by the unreadable moon-moon on his black polo, he was apparently some kind of employee. "It's good to see you again. Ashigara-san's already set up in the back if you'd like to join."
Kirishima smiled, bowing from the waist before the spoke. "Thank you, Miwaza-san, but I'm just here to browse today." She motioned to where Jersey was happily each 1/700th ship kit she came across. "This is my friend, Jersey-san."
"Hey, uh…" Jersey stopped, furiously shuffling the kits piled up on her chest to free up at least one hand. "Nice to meet you," she said, offering a hand to the Japanese man.
"It's a very great honor to meet you," he said, effortlessly shifting into near-perfect English as he gave Jersey a firm handshake. "I can't tell you how thankfull we are for that convoy of yours."
Jersey's blush shifted into infrared as Kirishima took over. "Miwaza-san is a very dear friend of mine," she said, "he owns this establishment."
"Have for twenty years," said Miwaza, grinning from ear to ear at the two battleships. "Which is why I can offer you half off anything in the store."
Jersey almost dropped her haul. "Wait, really?"
Miwaza nodded. "After what you pulled? It's the least I can do."
"I- I really can't-"
"Take it," said Miwaza, "Those are Games Workshop models."
Kirishima stifled a giggle.
"Well… hell, okay," said Jersey, "there is one thing though…"
"Oh?" Miwaza chewed on the corner of his lip, visible rifling though the racks of inventory cards in his head as he prepared to answer any question the battleship might have.
"Do you know where I can find a model of…" Jersey shrugged as best she could with an arm full of kids, "well, of me?"
"If you want of one
this" Miwaza waved his hands over Jersey's towering figure, "I'm afraid you're out of luck. But…" his voice trailed off as he wandered off, disappearing behind a stack of boxes.
Jersey blinked.
"He does that," said Kirishima. "Just wait."
Sure enough, Miwaza returned a few minutes later with his own stack of boxes. "Alrighty…" he set the smaller ones down on the glass counter, standing the biggest two up on their sides. "I got a few in three-fiftieth, but they're your '83 refit. I figure you don't want that."
Jersey shook her head.
"Figures," said Miwaza, waving to the pile of smaller kits, "I've got the WWII refit in one-seven-hundredth. "Or…" he waved to a baggy of tan resin parts, "If you're dead-set on the big version, you can swap these for your bridge and secondaries."
Jersey's face was glowing as she looked over the pile of models before her. "Can I do both?"
"Of course you can," said Miwaza with a hearty laugh. "But only if you'll take a picture with me." He waved to a board tacked up on one wall. Photos of a smiling Miwaza next to at least a dozen kanmusu were held up by thumb-tacks and tape
"Oh… no problem!" said Jersey, happily dumping her haul of models off to be rung up. "I love this place!"
- - - - -
I facepalm to stop myself from bursting out laughing. 
