This breaks the Shinano
- Location
- 'Murica
A pair of guided-missile destroyers greeted the whaling convoy as they pulled into Tokyo bay. Old ships. Tired—even exhausted ships. Their decks were scorched black by rocket exhaust, their hulls were streaked with rust and mottled paint from hasty repairs, and their ensigns were charred and ragged.
But they still flew the rising sun proudly over Tokyo Bay. The city behind them, the brilliant jewel of the pacific, the capital of Shinano's beloved Japan stood proudly behind the defiant ensign. Battered, yes. Even this far away, Shinano could see columns of smoke rise into the air and taste the ash on her tongue. But the city still stood. For at least one more day, the great spires of glass and steel thrust towards the heavens. And even a divine wind would not bend them down.
But as she got closer, Shinano noticed something on the destroyers she hadn't before. Their decks were lined with splotches of blue and black. At first, she'd thought the splotches were just scorch marks or battle damage. But then she got closer, and she realized they had faces.
They weren't splotches, they were sailors. Six hundred of them manning the rails and holding a salute to… her.
Shinano let out a terrified eep and worried her bow with her one good hand. The grip was slick in her heavily-gloved fingers, and she almost dropped it into the bay. Her pulse rocketed skywards, and soon it was nothing more than a furious whine ringing in her temples like the roar of a dozen fighters warming their engines.
They were saluting her, her. Not Ryuujou, not Jun'you, not the any of the whalers who went into harms way with nothing more than harpoons and guts to defend themselves, her.
This… this didn't make sense.
Shinano fumbled with her bow and eventually slung it over her shoulder. The heavy braided steel string cut into her neck, but she didn't care. It gave her something to think about beyond panicking as she brought her hand to her brow.
The studded leather squished against the congealed mass of blood, oil, and sweat slicking her coal-black hair to her brow. Which was a good thing too, Shinano was shaking so much she couldn't have held a salute without it.
Things only got worse when she noticed Ryuujou's weary salute. The tired carrier's hands shook just as badly as Shinano's, but there was a giddy grin on her face that cut though the layers of blood and mauled skin on her face. It was a salute directed squarely at Shinano herself.
Even Jun'you was doing it, although at least she had the common decency to offer Shinano a cheeky smile to take the edge off.
The giant converted carrier felt her sarashi suddenly get impossibly tight. Her armored breastplate squeezed at her chest as Shinano started to hyperventilate. She didn't know what to do… White'd trained her how to fight, but she was still just a battleship halfheartedly converted into a support carrier. She was supposed to bring things to the heroes, not be the hero.
Shinano was starting to seriously panic as she and her friends pulled into Yokosuka. She was close enough to the city now that she could make out details. There was damage, a lot of damage. Shattered windows glittered in the midday sun and scorched buildings shimmered as fire hoses stamped out the last embers. But damage she could deal with. She expected to see damage.
It was the banners that she couldn't deal with. At least two flew in the gentle breeze. Great sheets of white paper hastily lettered in red paint with what looked like a young child's hand.
"Thank you, Shinano," they read.
Shinano didn't have the faintest idea how to deal with all this attention. And it waspositive attention too, something she was even less familiar with. So she fell back to her usual standby and started hyperventilating and worrying the heavy canvas of her kimono.
Her steel-toed boots crashed onto shore with a heavy metal clank, and Shinano almost toppled onto her stern. She was still getting the hang of sailing, and doing it with a torn-up bridge while most of her senior staff was panicking made things even harder.
Her chest strained at the linen of her sarashi with each step she took. Her armor felt impossibly constricting as the towering carrier hyperventilated until her boilers struggled to keep a flame.
What seemed like an endless tide of people—kanmusume, sailors, and civilians alike—surged towards her. They clapped, they saluted, they stood on tip-toe to hug and kiss her. It was so much attention. More attention than the carrier had ever received in her life.
"Eeeeeeee!" Shinano pumped out a high-pitched squeal of terror from her furiously fluttering lungs. Her face would've glowed beet red if there wasn't so much sweat and grime obscuring her furiously blushing skin. Her blood-soaked sleeve flapped against her side as she bolted for the CVL docks as fast as her long legs could carry her. The pounding of her massive iron-reinforced boots hammering against the deck almost drowned out the sound of her hyperventilated squeals.
Almost.
Light carrier Houshou winced as her bare feet kissed the cool shower hall tile. Her hair was matted to her neck with sweat, and nicks all down her arms glistened with congealed blood. She'd done what she could to help defend Tokyo, but she managed training duties for a reason.
Her paltry dozen A5Ms were obsolete even in their day, they would've been hard pressed to take on even the Stukas. But they didn't have to, her pilots were just warming up their engines when lightning struck like a divine wind. Houshou hadn't expected much from Shinano, at least this early.
But her expectations had been toppled like so many cards. Shinano was magnificent, a true heir to the Yamato name. No doubt, White would be pleased when she got back from the sea of Japan.
Houshou smiled as she slipped her kimono off and neatly folded it. Her pilots had watched in awe as the abyssal air group simply vanished under the fury of the violet lightning. And then her veteran pilots in their aging planes had naught to do but talk Shinano's frighteningly inexperienced—and terrifyingly valiant—pilots though their landings.
The old carrier smoothed the fabric of her uniform and put it away. She'd been prepared to die this day, and instead she'd witnessed something wonderful. The birth of a true carrier.
She stood, and gingerly tip-toed her way to the showers themselves. She might be old and battle-hardened, but Houshou still hated cold floors. But as she entered chilly room, she noticed something in the corner.
Something giantic and dressed in heavy green and red canvas. Shinano hugged her massive legs to her chest, her boots skidding along the tile as she cried into her knees.
"Shinano?" Houshou worried the tip of her ponytail and drew near to the much younger girl. She was hurt, and badly. One arm was flat-out missing below the elbow, and her brow was criss-crossed with nicks and dripping with sweat. Seeing her like this… Houshou was astonished the carrier was even able to launch a strike. Enterprise herself would be proud.
Shinano let out a timid eep and tried to retreat further into the corner. Her boots skidded off the slick tile and she whimpered into her breastplate.
"Honey, are you okay?" Houshou settled onto her knees and put one arm around the carrier's massive shoulders.
"M-mmhm," Shinano nodded, then buried her face in Houshou's chest. Hot tears warmed Houshou's skin as Shinano cried.
"What're you doing here?" Houshou gently cradled the giant carrier. Or at least did the best she could, Housho was hardly the towering giant Shinano was.
Shinano sniffed, and glanced up. The blood on her face was smudged, and her round cheeks wore a distinctive blush. "Th-they were all," she sniffed again. "All saluting me and… and hugging me and…" she buried her face in Houshou's chest. "I didn't know what do to."
Houshou was very happy Shinano couldn't see her right now. The smile on her face was most unbecoming.
"S-so…" Shinano's voice was barely more than a whisper. "I… I came here. It seemed like the right thing to do."
Houshou couldn't keep herself from laughing. Her tired lips twisted into an exhausted smile, and she had to clutch Shinano's shoulders to keep from falling over.
"'s not funny," whimpered Shinano.
"Yes it is, child," Houshou plopped onto her stern with a squish of wet flesh and settling steel. "You're adorable, you know."
Shinano blushed and pulled her legs up to hide her face. "Mmhm," she muttered.
"You don't have to be ashamed of anything you did," Houshou couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she turned on the water. It was nice and hot, just how she liked it. "Enterprise herself would've been proud of you."
Shinano let out a high-pitched eep of fright and scooted back further into her corner.
Houshou laughed, and tossed the giant carrier a bottle of shampoo. "Now let's get you cleaned up for Akashi."
Shinano fumbled for the bottle with her one good hand until her heavy gauntlet finally closed around it.
"And then," Houshou started picking the knots out of Shinano's ragged ponytail, "We'll get you some ice cream. How about that?"
Shinano blinked. "What— what's ice cream?"
But they still flew the rising sun proudly over Tokyo Bay. The city behind them, the brilliant jewel of the pacific, the capital of Shinano's beloved Japan stood proudly behind the defiant ensign. Battered, yes. Even this far away, Shinano could see columns of smoke rise into the air and taste the ash on her tongue. But the city still stood. For at least one more day, the great spires of glass and steel thrust towards the heavens. And even a divine wind would not bend them down.
But as she got closer, Shinano noticed something on the destroyers she hadn't before. Their decks were lined with splotches of blue and black. At first, she'd thought the splotches were just scorch marks or battle damage. But then she got closer, and she realized they had faces.
They weren't splotches, they were sailors. Six hundred of them manning the rails and holding a salute to… her.
Shinano let out a terrified eep and worried her bow with her one good hand. The grip was slick in her heavily-gloved fingers, and she almost dropped it into the bay. Her pulse rocketed skywards, and soon it was nothing more than a furious whine ringing in her temples like the roar of a dozen fighters warming their engines.
They were saluting her, her. Not Ryuujou, not Jun'you, not the any of the whalers who went into harms way with nothing more than harpoons and guts to defend themselves, her.
This… this didn't make sense.
Shinano fumbled with her bow and eventually slung it over her shoulder. The heavy braided steel string cut into her neck, but she didn't care. It gave her something to think about beyond panicking as she brought her hand to her brow.
The studded leather squished against the congealed mass of blood, oil, and sweat slicking her coal-black hair to her brow. Which was a good thing too, Shinano was shaking so much she couldn't have held a salute without it.
Things only got worse when she noticed Ryuujou's weary salute. The tired carrier's hands shook just as badly as Shinano's, but there was a giddy grin on her face that cut though the layers of blood and mauled skin on her face. It was a salute directed squarely at Shinano herself.
Even Jun'you was doing it, although at least she had the common decency to offer Shinano a cheeky smile to take the edge off.
The giant converted carrier felt her sarashi suddenly get impossibly tight. Her armored breastplate squeezed at her chest as Shinano started to hyperventilate. She didn't know what to do… White'd trained her how to fight, but she was still just a battleship halfheartedly converted into a support carrier. She was supposed to bring things to the heroes, not be the hero.
Shinano was starting to seriously panic as she and her friends pulled into Yokosuka. She was close enough to the city now that she could make out details. There was damage, a lot of damage. Shattered windows glittered in the midday sun and scorched buildings shimmered as fire hoses stamped out the last embers. But damage she could deal with. She expected to see damage.
It was the banners that she couldn't deal with. At least two flew in the gentle breeze. Great sheets of white paper hastily lettered in red paint with what looked like a young child's hand.
"Thank you, Shinano," they read.
Shinano didn't have the faintest idea how to deal with all this attention. And it waspositive attention too, something she was even less familiar with. So she fell back to her usual standby and started hyperventilating and worrying the heavy canvas of her kimono.
Her steel-toed boots crashed onto shore with a heavy metal clank, and Shinano almost toppled onto her stern. She was still getting the hang of sailing, and doing it with a torn-up bridge while most of her senior staff was panicking made things even harder.
Her chest strained at the linen of her sarashi with each step she took. Her armor felt impossibly constricting as the towering carrier hyperventilated until her boilers struggled to keep a flame.
What seemed like an endless tide of people—kanmusume, sailors, and civilians alike—surged towards her. They clapped, they saluted, they stood on tip-toe to hug and kiss her. It was so much attention. More attention than the carrier had ever received in her life.
"Eeeeeeee!" Shinano pumped out a high-pitched squeal of terror from her furiously fluttering lungs. Her face would've glowed beet red if there wasn't so much sweat and grime obscuring her furiously blushing skin. Her blood-soaked sleeve flapped against her side as she bolted for the CVL docks as fast as her long legs could carry her. The pounding of her massive iron-reinforced boots hammering against the deck almost drowned out the sound of her hyperventilated squeals.
Almost.
—|—|—
Light carrier Houshou winced as her bare feet kissed the cool shower hall tile. Her hair was matted to her neck with sweat, and nicks all down her arms glistened with congealed blood. She'd done what she could to help defend Tokyo, but she managed training duties for a reason.
Her paltry dozen A5Ms were obsolete even in their day, they would've been hard pressed to take on even the Stukas. But they didn't have to, her pilots were just warming up their engines when lightning struck like a divine wind. Houshou hadn't expected much from Shinano, at least this early.
But her expectations had been toppled like so many cards. Shinano was magnificent, a true heir to the Yamato name. No doubt, White would be pleased when she got back from the sea of Japan.
Houshou smiled as she slipped her kimono off and neatly folded it. Her pilots had watched in awe as the abyssal air group simply vanished under the fury of the violet lightning. And then her veteran pilots in their aging planes had naught to do but talk Shinano's frighteningly inexperienced—and terrifyingly valiant—pilots though their landings.
The old carrier smoothed the fabric of her uniform and put it away. She'd been prepared to die this day, and instead she'd witnessed something wonderful. The birth of a true carrier.
She stood, and gingerly tip-toed her way to the showers themselves. She might be old and battle-hardened, but Houshou still hated cold floors. But as she entered chilly room, she noticed something in the corner.
Something giantic and dressed in heavy green and red canvas. Shinano hugged her massive legs to her chest, her boots skidding along the tile as she cried into her knees.
"Shinano?" Houshou worried the tip of her ponytail and drew near to the much younger girl. She was hurt, and badly. One arm was flat-out missing below the elbow, and her brow was criss-crossed with nicks and dripping with sweat. Seeing her like this… Houshou was astonished the carrier was even able to launch a strike. Enterprise herself would be proud.
Shinano let out a timid eep and tried to retreat further into the corner. Her boots skidded off the slick tile and she whimpered into her breastplate.
"Honey, are you okay?" Houshou settled onto her knees and put one arm around the carrier's massive shoulders.
"M-mmhm," Shinano nodded, then buried her face in Houshou's chest. Hot tears warmed Houshou's skin as Shinano cried.
"What're you doing here?" Houshou gently cradled the giant carrier. Or at least did the best she could, Housho was hardly the towering giant Shinano was.
Shinano sniffed, and glanced up. The blood on her face was smudged, and her round cheeks wore a distinctive blush. "Th-they were all," she sniffed again. "All saluting me and… and hugging me and…" she buried her face in Houshou's chest. "I didn't know what do to."
Houshou was very happy Shinano couldn't see her right now. The smile on her face was most unbecoming.
"S-so…" Shinano's voice was barely more than a whisper. "I… I came here. It seemed like the right thing to do."
Houshou couldn't keep herself from laughing. Her tired lips twisted into an exhausted smile, and she had to clutch Shinano's shoulders to keep from falling over.
"'s not funny," whimpered Shinano.
"Yes it is, child," Houshou plopped onto her stern with a squish of wet flesh and settling steel. "You're adorable, you know."
Shinano blushed and pulled her legs up to hide her face. "Mmhm," she muttered.
"You don't have to be ashamed of anything you did," Houshou couldn't wipe the smile off her face as she turned on the water. It was nice and hot, just how she liked it. "Enterprise herself would've been proud of you."
Shinano let out a high-pitched eep of fright and scooted back further into her corner.
Houshou laughed, and tossed the giant carrier a bottle of shampoo. "Now let's get you cleaned up for Akashi."
Shinano fumbled for the bottle with her one good hand until her heavy gauntlet finally closed around it.
"And then," Houshou started picking the knots out of Shinano's ragged ponytail, "We'll get you some ice cream. How about that?"
Shinano blinked. "What— what's ice cream?"
