Since I've been really busy, too busy to actually work on this fic... have this as an interlude.
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Short-heeled boots clicked against concrete with rhythmic precision as battleship Kongou strode her way though the park. Her hair was done up in its usual carefree double-buns, and her ahoge bounced in a generally Goto-wardsly direction with each step. But there was a strain in the old battleship's fine, vaguely European features. Every step she took was was carefully measured and precisely taken, she couldn't afford to miss a beat.
Not now.
Not here.
"Miss Kongou," a young woman offered the ancient battlewagon a polite bow. She didn't look much older than Kongou's beloved sister Kirishima. She wore her hair—the same ashy gray hair that Kongou's littlest sister had—in a flared bob like Kirishima, and she even wore glasses.
Kongou caught herself staring a heartbeat too late. She had to remind herself that Kirishima wasn't with her. Her little sister was in America, thousands of miles away. Safe, but… still, a long way from home.
"Y-yes?" Kongou put on a smile and clasped her hands inside her billowing detached sleeves.
"We've cleared the deck for you," said the young woman with a very Kirishima-like smile. It was a very little smile, like she was trying to be serious but just couldn't quite help herself. "You've got her all to yourself, as long as you want."
"Thank you," Kongou bowed. Her keel might be as English as her sea-gray eyes, but the blood running though her veins—if she had blood, she still wasn't sure on that point—was Japanese.
The woman smiled again, then smartly vanished into the battleship's peripheral vision. Kongou was quite thankful for that. She considered herself a people person, and she always found being around those she loved left her feeling happier and healthier for it. But… sometimes she just needed to be alone.
Alone with… her.
Steel groaned under the battleship's titanic weight as she walked up the steps. Kongou kept her face calm and serene, and gingerly placed one foot ahead of the other. Even with metal creaking under far more weight than it was ever intended to bear, the old battleship wouldn't loose her cool.
It just wasn't British, after all.
Carefully, Kongou ascended step by step. She could feel her knees shaking, and she nervously worried the fabric of her sleeves with bated breath. But at the same time, a smile graced her face. She couldn't quite explain it, but ever step made her feel more nervous and more calm at the same time. She felt a sort of warmth settle over her narrow shoulders, like someone had wrapped her in a blanket fresh out of the dryer and handed her some hot coco.
It was a very comforting sensation. One she was… quite familiar with every time she visited the park. But she'd never been quite so thankful for it as she was right now.
Kongou smoothed the fabric of her skirt, and took a moment to make sure her buns were still in order before she set foot on the battered, ancient teak. There were very, very few things in this world older than the old battleship. But this… this was one of them.
"Hello," Kongou spoke to cold Winter air and smiled. She took a few more steps and stopped before the squat slanted face of a gun turret. It wasn't anything like one of her own turrets. It was smaller than hers, simpler. But its little guns had spoken words even Kongou's full broadside could never drown out.
The battleship snapped her hands to her side and bowed to the silent gunhouse. Canvas awnings and a few signal flags flying on towering masts fluttered in the breeze.
"It's good to see you too, Mikasa." Kongou settled down onto her heels before the ancient predreadnought's turret and retrieved a picnic basket from her stores. It wasn't much, nothing more than a light snack for a ship of her size. But Kongou hadn't come to the park to eat.
"I had the chance to visit America again," Kongou produced a camp stove and a battered old tea kettle.
A gentle breeze rolled off the bay and rustled against the predreadnought's ancient hull.
Kongou smiled as she let her water boil. "They're a very strange people. But… more generous than you can ever imagine."
Kongou retrieved two plates and some scones from her basket. She carefully placed a pat of butter on one of the blueberry-speckled pastries. With a careful stare, Kongou spread the butter around until it was just perfect.
"They've found a proper respect for tea now, you know." Kongou placed the buttered scone on Mikasa's battered teak deck and slid it over towards the gunhouse. "And their cakes! You've not lived until you've had an American grandmother bake you a cake."
The battleship dabbed at the corner of her seafoam eyes and bit her lip. "I… I hope Kirishima's doing alright."
The ancient rifles of battleship Mikasa stared back in wordless affirmation.
"I know," said Kongou. "But I worry about her never the less. You know how it is." The British-born battleship sighed wistfully and started fixing herself a scone. If there was one thing that always helped ease her worries, it was baking. And also eating, but that tended to require baking in the first place.
If only all her little sisters were here, she could have a truly magnificent tea party. She… she might even consider inviting Jersey, except… "Mikasa, have you ever heard of sweet tea?"
The old predreadnought's flags fluttered in the wind.
"I thought not," said Kongou. "It's a terrible American invention, and I'm quite certain my new American friend enjoys it above all else."
After a moment, Kongou laughed. "Why, because it's sugary and sweet! Have you met an American, Mikasa?"
The ancient predreadnought sat silent in her concrete berth.
"I thought not," said Kongou. "But…" the battleship paused and rested her hands in her lap. The hem of her skirt rustled against the top of her thigh-highs, and her kettle started to steam. "But she has every negative quality a person could posses. And despite that she's one of the nicest, kindest, most selfless people I know."
Somewhere out in the bay, a fishing boat's bell echoed over the quiet waters.
"Now," Kongou poured steaming water into a porcelain tea pot and swirled it around. "Tea's almost ready. I'll pour you a cup."
