Content Warning: Lots of gross, sexist talk including inferences about sexual assault, transphobia, and abuse of alcohol.
The sudden shift back into what was the strikingly dull normalcy of the sleepy seaside posting took a few days to process. You hadn't slept for something like fifty hours and when you finally did get to your futon, you passed out for a solid twelve hours, only shaking yourself awake when sunlight hit you full in the face. The rest of the work just seemed… normal. Parts and materials for the boat. Organizing work details. Waiting for the monthly supply ship to arrive with your new crew and materials. It all seemed so monotonous after you had nearly died something like three times in the space of a day.
You handled it a bit better than Ishinari, though, who looked bleary-eyed for days afterward. Despite how exhausted he clearly was, it seemed he wasn't able to sleep properly, his body still running on emergency mode. Once or twice, you looked up from the desk in the cramped office space you shared to see him bent over paperwork and trying to stop his hand from shaking as he filled in a form. Poor guy needed some rest. You understood the feeling--even after you'd been in port for a few days, with the exhaustion no longer knocking you out, you found it harder to get to sleep. You started to spend more time in the small officer's club during the evening, knocking back glasses of cognac and brandy until you felt sleepy enough to stumble home and fall into bed.
It was kind of nostalgic. When you had trouble getting to sleep as a child, your mother had sometimes given you a small cup of sake, which had always put your to bed in short order. Once things got under control again you'd be fine.
You turned up in the newspapers, to your surprise. Somebody had taken a picture of you while you were fighting the fires, both your sleeves missing, gripping the firehose for dear life. You thought it looked awful. You were a complete mess, totally unprofessional, and some of the periodicals agreed.
Aiko, on the other hand, thought you looked amazing, and gushed about the picture at length.
The next week, the supply ship arrived. An old, creaky freighter that puffed out great clouds of black coal smoke pulled into the harbor and soon sailors were unloading sacks of rice, tinned goods, torpedoes, shells, and everything else you would need, including new sailors. You shuffled through the paperwork, frowning at it as your new dozen or so men lined up on the wharf to await your orders. As you looked over the line of men, you noticed one carrying two enormous seabags that looked even more disproportionate given his tiny size, and it took you just a second to realize it was Petty Officer Ota.
Wait, no, Seaman Ota. The extra bag was probably some form of punishment. You took a few steps across the wharf and looked down at him, hands on hips.
"...Seaman Ota." In response, he snapped a salute. Somehow.
"Lieutenant! I think I'm your new torpedo chief! Or… I was. Not sure how that's going to work out now." He explained. You surmised that he somehow got demoted on the boat over here, which was impressive even for Ota. He'd always had something of an attitude what with being an anarchist and all.
"What happened?"
"I put another sailor in the infirmary, ma'am," he replied sharply.
"On the way here?" You pinched the bridge of your nose. You could feel a headache coming on. Spirits, you wanted a drink.
"Just after we left, ma'am. Got a letter from Petty Officer Kwon about his state in the hospital, and some of my esteemed comrades took exception to… well, the language the letter was written in and that I could read it and that I gave a… that I cared. Point is, I've learned my lesson and will be on the straight and narrow." He said with obvious sarcasm. Any other sailor, you'd probably have dressed down for that, but Ota… You shook your head.
"And… How is Petty Officer Kwon. I haven't…" You hesitated. "I hadn't heard from him since he was wounded."
"He's… recovering." Ota's face contorted briefly before he managed to conceal his feelings again. "...He might not walk again. The shrapnel or whatever it was, it nicked his spine. The doctors don't know…" Ota's voice wavered briefly as he tried to contain what must have been a painful surge of emotion. "Maybe if he hadn't had to wait so fu-, um, so long for treatment..."
You winced. Guilt and anger boiled up inside of you. If you hadn't read that stupid map wrong. If you hadn't decided to stay there and fight it out with the whole Caspian Army...
"Um, he says he's doing well, that he's able to stand up from his bed and even walk a few steps with support from the orderlies but he might just be putting a good face on it." Ota said, clearly trying to downplay things. "They might even transfer him to the big Navy hospital in Tokei for specialist treatment." If he's lucky was left unsaid but it was hanging there between the two of you, heavy in the air.
"Well, to your quarters, sailor. We'll… work out duty stations." You couldn't stand there talking with a common sailor much longer without drawing more attention than you wanted right now. If you wanted to catch up properly, you'd need to find a miniature submarine.
As your replacements shuffled off, Ishinari seemed to materialize at your elbow.
"Lieutenant, we have all the parts and material we need to get started on the repairs…" He hesitated for a moment.
"You can take care of that, I assume," you replied with a tired sigh. That wasn't like you, but you felt deflated after finally hearing news of Kwon. He was a good man. He didn't deserve that kind of injury.
"You're the XO, so I'll leave it in your care," you added. Ishinari nodded and gave a swift bow.
"Yes, ma'am. Of course. I can take care of it."
There was a tiny spike of guilt as he turned away, and you spoke up.
"Actually, leave the paperwork on my desk and I'll take care of it. You just organize the work parties" You said. That felt more proper, even if it meant more work. And it gave the Ensign some simple responsibilities and straightforward authority, which was important. It's how they learned.
"Very good, ma'am."
Welp, time to get to your office. The paperwork won't do itself. Spirits, there was so much paperwork. Transfer forms to sign off on, requisitions to certify, records and ledgers to double-check… usually it wasn't too much to deal with.
You were midway through signing off confirmations of receiving various parts and looking over the transfers when you decided to break things up and finally write that letter to Kishimoto Junji. You'd been delaying on that and you knew that the longer you let things sit, the more nonsense might result when it finally resolved itself.
You penned a quick letter, getting straight to the point and laying out the situation for Junji, sealed it and set it aside in the outgoing mail pile, then pulled another unfinished letter from your pile of work. This was the commendation for young Tsuda. He was a good kid, and had a promising future whether that was in the Navy or working ashore with his aptitude for mechanical things. Already, you had written out his bravery under fire and initiative in fighting the fire… Now, though, you had to make a recommendation. It would hurt to lose someone like that, but getting him (and his wife-to-be) off this nowhere posting would be best.
In light of his aptitude and initiative, and in recognition of his courage and coolness under fire I can most confidently recommend Seaman Tsuda be transferred to the Imperial Naval Technical School in Shimazu in order to undergo further training as an engine specialist. It would without a doubt be in the best interests of the Navy and of Seaman Tsuda Kentaro for his abilities and talents to be utilized to their utmost.
Well. That was that. You stamped the form with your official signature-seal, sealed it into the official envelope, and dropped it onto the outgoing pile as well, then leaned back from your desk to stretch. Your eyes settled on the bottle of locally produced shochu at the corner of the desk.
A glass couldn't hurt.
---
The tradition at this post was to invite the officers from the supply ship to join the local crew for drinks and dinner. It was tradition and you thought it was the dullest thing in the world. The captain of the supply ship was a lieutenant, some poor old bastard that had reached middle age in that posting and was probably going to die a lieutenant unless he retired before then. The rest of them were a gaggle of junior lieutenants and ensigns that seemed to change every time you looked at them.
As dinner wrapped up and the supply crew broke out the bottles of the good stuff, the conversation began meandering in a way you were rather used to among officers, with a sort of resentful restraint owing to your presence. As usual, it was making you feel intensely awkward, and in the past your solution had usually been to either leave, or strike up a side conversation with an officer you trusted. This time, however, there was a certain confidence, from your medals and the recent action and the incredibly expensive bottle of brandy that the supply crew had procured from who knows where.
You were starting to get rather self-conscious about how detached you tended to be from the other officers, and you were worrying it was negatively affecting your career. You needed to get comfortable in this space if you wanted to advance, especially at higher ranks were networking was everything.
"No, absolutely, let's speak of girls." You said, smiling. "I am devoted to the fairer sex and the flowers of Akitsukuni. To be less poetic, I'm extremely gay. Let's make this happen, how do we do this? I've never talked about girls with men before."
"Really?" One of the junior officers from the supply ship with a name you'd forgotten already. "I supposed that gay women would talk about the same things we do." He was young and stupid and you hated his stupid, ox-looking face. There was a pregnant silence before someone else volunteered.
"It does tend to be a touch vulgar…"
"I can do that." You slammed your hand on the table. "I can be vulgar."
"I don't think-"
"I fucked a Europan girl in the Imperial Palace once. At a New Year's Party. Spirits, she was a beautiful one, too. Barely spoke Akitsukuni but she desperately wanted to meet one of the 'silk girls' they talk about so much. Poor thing." You laughed. Relished the feeling of the completely uncouth words that were dropping from your lips. "Completely unsubtle. Basically walked in wearing a sign, like, looking for lesbians, girls apply within."
There was a lengthy moment of silence as the men around the table seemed to digest your words. Maybe that had been too much for them to deal with. Finally, Maeda spoke up.
"And you applied?"
"Oh, vigorously. If you don't enter the tiger's cave, you won't catch its cub."
And instantly, the awkwardness was gone. It was replaced with a bit of discomfort regarding how most of the men talked about the women they'd slept with, but you had the bulwark of being far more successful at it than any two of them put together to push back with. And also the brandy. The brandy was lovely.
At first it was just a bit of bragging, pictures of girlfriends being produced, rude jokes being made which you gleefully got in on. They were still rather hesitant at first, so you got a bit more crude than you were frankly comfortable with, and after a few minutes they started loosening up and no longer deferring to you. And the conversation started getting weird.
You were worried for your young ensign, but he found a window in the conversation to join in, namely in that the younger supply ensign was apparently also some brand of Ichthysian, though not nearly the same one, and the two of them had a brief but hilarious argument about theology that made absolutely no sense to you, and which quickly returned to the core topic when it came up that their boy Joshua apparently spending all his time hanging out with twelve other young men and a bunch of whores. And that got everyone talking about prostitutes.
Fortunately, there was a pause as one of the local girls who'd been hired by the base swept through to clean up the dishes, which gave you a bit of time to get calibrated to the space and work out what you were going to talk about. But the moment she was outside, the conversation turned to her.
"Now
she's hot."
"Yeah… actually. She looks sweet. Eyes you could drown in if you're not careful," You said, laughing a bit. "Cute peasant girls… my mother would be scandalized."
"Spirits, I need more shore postings like this, with girls like that." The older of the supply officers, a Lieutenant (Sugita? Maybe?) said. "The supply ships are non-stop. You guys… and the princess, y'all don't know how lucky you are." He had the slightest hint of a middle southern accent, and it reminded your drunken brain vaguely of the truck driver who had given you a ride before.
"Yeah, best part of those peasant girls? They'll put out like-" Ensign Iori snapped his fingers. "This posting has been really nice for me. And, fuck, you tell girls you fly airplanes, they'll suck your dick on the spot."
Wow, yeah, they weren't kidding about vulgar.
"Bullshit. Nobody cares about your stupid kites." You retorted.
"I speak from experience, my lady. See, city girls are all uptight and shit, but all these rural women are fucking sluts."
"Well in that case, call that girl back in here." Sugita(?) said, vaguely at Maeda. "I bet if we let her have one of these bottles she'd get her tits out."
Maeda laughed and leaned back a bit to peer out the window.
"Hey cleaning girl, you wanna earn a little extra?" He called, though apparently to nobody. It still got a good laugh from the table. "Hmm. I think we'll have to go get her if we want to save our poor ensign."
"Fuck, I'll go right now." The younger supply officer, who had a sort of perpetual sneer on his face, said, almost standing up, but his superior caught his sleeve. You sorta picked up on the unspoken exchange, that regardless of how crude it got, he was still a guest here and that was rude.
"She is a cute little thing, though." The older officer said.
"Heh, yeah, she's tiny. I mean, yeah, cute but… I like, uh." You gestured vaguely above your head. "Tall."
"Spirits, yeah." Maeda agreed wistfully.
"Nah, see, the small ones are fun-" Iori opined, but he was cut off by the young ensign from the supply ship.
"Yeah, they're easier to hold down." He said casually.
Fuck.
Everyone else laughed, but there was a brief moment of cold disgust shivering through you before you realized… oh, it was a joke. They were laughing. They weren't serious. It was… it was a really bad joke about Iori being unable to seduce a woman. It wasn't serious. It was just a dark joke. Just a joke.
You poured yourself some more brandy.
"Nah, see, I like a girl with some more curves. Spirits, we had this Gallian advisor… you've seen their uniforms, yeah?" The older supply officer started.
"They don't leave much to the imagination" You said fondly, trying to regain your footing. The Gallians preferred their clothes close-tailored and their hemlines high: you had a cousin wear a dress that was in fashion over there at the time and you could almost see her knees.
"You could say that, yeah, you could basically trace the outline of her ass. Fuck she was hot. I think she was fucking the captain, the lucky bastard."
"Spirits, that reminds me. I was in Joseon, um, this was years ago, and like, you know what their women look like. They're
sticks." Maeda said.
"Yeah…" You said, thinking about Min-Seo. Yeah they were. Probably because they didn't have enough to eat most of the time (for some reason that remark sounded a little like Aiko's voice in the back of your head).
"But like, we were in this village or whatever, and this one lady had the biggest fucking tits I've ever seen, out of nowhere. And they were just out there! Like, she was dressed, but for some reason her fuckin' whole scene was hanging out."
"Weird." Nashimoto intoned. You'd noticed he'd shifted a little closer to Ishinari, and he whispered something you couldn't hear that made them both laugh.
"Yeah. Fucking wild, I'm telling you. That was a fun posting."
"Yeah?" The younger officer asked.
Oh boy, you didn't like the direction this was going. This had the potential to get into some really fucked up territory, so you decided the optimal pattern would be to fall back to the bragging that seemed to constitute most of the conversation.
"Yeah, but I have a feeling they're less happy to see a white uniform than our girls." You cut in. "I swear, it's magnetic or something, just draws every eye to you."
"Yeah it does! I dropped back in my hometown after I graduated, and hey wow suddenly some of the girls who wouldn't give me the time of day before were real interested." Iori said proudly.
You smiled and leaned in conspiratorial.
"Okay, so, after I finally got my first cadet uniform proper…"
"Huh?" Maeda looked confused.
"They pinned some badges to a kimono for the first few months, it was awful. Anyway, day one after getting it, I headed down to this local teahouse, the kind girls like me hang out in, and came home with two lovely young women very eager to take it off me." You said with relish. That was a fun night. And it sure seemed to impress the table.
"Bullshit, princess." The young supply officer snapped.
"What, jealous?" You teased back.
"Knock it off, girls." Maeda cut in. "She's right, though, it drives them wild. Seriously. I bet even you could pull it off, Ishinari."
Your ensign, who'd spent the whole conversation in awkward silence, winced, and to your surprise reached out and poured himself a tiny, tiny amount of sake.
"I- I'd never." He said, then threw back the glass.
"Seriously?" Lieutenant Maeda said, smiling. "Like, no high school girlfriend or whatever?"
"I was homeschooled." Ishinari said, his voice small.
"Man, fuck. You don't fight alongside a virgin, it's bad luck." The younger of the two supply officers said.
"I'm… but…"
"Absolutely. The number one priority of this station has just becoming getting our boy here laid." Ensign Nashimoto joked, a huge smile on his face. You'd worked out that the ensign was gay, but seemed eager to participate in the conversation anyway, mostly by poking fun at everyone. Including his… boyfriend? Maybe he was just dropping a hint to poor Ishinari to hurry up and bed him.
Oh shit, you just realized the bind Ishinari was in here. He could say he wasn't a virgin, but that would require admitting he'd slept with a man, and that would violate his religious shit so bad… no wonder he picked the option to start drinking. You felt a pang of sympathy for the poor guy.
"Actually, now that we're thinking about it, isn't our princess a virgin, technically?" One of the idiot supply officers again.
"What?" Okay of all the dumb things they had said so far, that one sounded like the dumbest. "What's that supposed to mean? Or do you think I'm lying?"
"No, no…" The man held his hands up, placating. "What I mean is, you've never had a man, so wouldn't that make you a virgin? I mean, I don't really know how you girls do it but there's no…" He made a gesture with his fingers that probably was supposed to intimate penetration.
"We have fingers, you idiot," you replied casually. Maybe you were having too much brandy but you weren't going to stand for this. "Or do you just roll a girl on her back and stick it in her without doing anything else?"
There were some glances around the table that… oh boy. Ishinari and Nashimoto laughed, at least.
"Wait, so you just fuck with your hands?" The supply boat boys were the worst.
"Oh Spirits I just got the whole…" Maeda gestured to his wrist. "The bracelet thing."
"I didn't say that! Spirits you're dense. And that's not the whole reason for bracelets." You looked over at Maeda. "I thought you had a wife waiting for you at home, doesn't she like girls? You can ask her about this kind of thing and not me." A gentle jab, more joking than anything.
"Ah, no. She's only interested in men, honestly. I feel very lucky to have her." Maeda beamed. Combined with his happiness about his sweetheart and the alcohol everyone had been drinking, his face was getting pretty red. "Kinuko. She's a dream. We've been married for three years now!"
Maeda reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim little locket to show you the picture, a portrait of the two of them. Wow, yeah, Kinuko was lovely, smiling and glancing down to meet her husband's eyes. She was dressed in traditional clothes which did a really lovely job of emphasizing her graceful, willowy form.
"Oh? I still like them shorter than me," The supply lieutenant leaned over his drink. "Any kids yet, Maeda?"
"Nah, we were thinking of adopting but… the war and everything, we decided to wait until I can get a posting closer to home." Maeda took a gulp of liquor.
"Oohh. It's like that." The supply ensign said, just about as the locket reached him in its circuit around the table. What did he mean by that?
"I don't know if that would work with my family" Nashimoto said quietly. "They're very emphatic that we need to continue our bloodline. Not that I'd be eager to marry a woman either way, but..."
"That's how I feel about men," you chimed in, eager to find a touch of common ground with your cousin. "It's a pain, always being pressured to have children."
"You're not wrong," Nashimoto replied. He actually smiled! Okay maybe you were making progress with him? Ishinari still looked as serious as ever.
"Right, but… adopting just seems like a sort of second choice, don't you think?" The supply lieutenant was talking again. Ugh. "Wouldn't you rather have your own children?"
"Any kids I adopt
will be my own children," Maeda said. "Kinuko and I have talked about it very seriously."
"I mean, obviously, but a couple of years ago my father started talking about… shit, what's that, uh, organic inheritance thing called?" Nashimoto said, voice thoughtful.
"Genetics." Ishinari volunteered immediately.
"Yeah, that's bullshit. Kids are who you raise them to be." Maeda said firmly.
"I agree," Ishinari said. "It's more important that children be raised by those that care for them."
"But this theory, evolution I think…?" Nashimoto sounded unsure.
"It's nonsense. Europans use it to try and categorize everyone else lower than them," you said. "It doesn't make any sense anyway."
"The literature is pretty convincing," Nashimoto replied. "There's a book I have a copy of, if you'd like to read it, cousin. Written by one of our countrymen, too." Hmmm.
"...I suppose I could give it a look," you said, grudgingly. "But it's more about how the Europans are the natural pinnacle of the evolutionary ladder or whatever, I'm tossing it out."
"Aren't we getting off topic now?" The older supply lieutenant said, laughing. "Evolution, genetics, whatever. Making kids the normal way is probably more fun, but I'm not gonna say it's better." His smile was oily and you hated it. He was handed Maeda's locket. Smiled. "Ah. She's very lovely, Lieutenant."
"You wouldn't have to care either way if you'd married a real woman." The supply ensign said, as casually as if he was mentioning the weather.
Then all hell promptly broke loose.
Normally, Lieutenant Maeda was a smiling, good-natured man. You were pretty sure you'd never seen him angry in the whole time you'd been here. His face, which a few moments earlier had been florid with drink and good cheer, had turned an angry red. Before anyone could say anything, he shot to his feet and lunged across the table, scattering glasses and spilling brandy across the table as he grabbed the ensign by the collar. In almost the same moment, his fist connected with the man's nose.
Something cracked and bright red blood made a sudden appearance on the ensign's white uniform jacket.
Maeda started to haul the man across the table, intent on hitting him again. Ishinari, Nashimoto, and Iori were all trying to haul Maeda off the ensign. The lieutenant from the supply ship was trying to untangle Maeda's fingers from the other's collar. Everyone was talking at once.
"You rotten bastard, saying that about another man's wife--"
"Lieutenant, that's enough, you've given him a good hit--"
"Maeda, I'm sure he didn't mean--"
"My nose! He broke my
nose--"
"You're lucky this isn't my grandfather's time or you'd be dead--"
"Lieutenant Maeda, let go, please!"
You knew better than to stick around for this. The other three seemed to be able to handle Maeda, even in his incensed, drunken state, and you weren't eager to catch an elbow trying to help. Or to get blood on your uniform. This party was over anyway. One of the bottles of brandy the visitors had brought, still unopened, rolled across the floor and bumped against your foot. Everyone else was focused on the fight, so you casually reached down to pick it up, turned, and took your leave.
"Thanks for the meal--!" You tossed over your shoulder. Just being polite. Not that anyone probably heard you in all the uproar.
On your way out, you passed the cute serving girl, coming back to the building. No doubt attracted by the sudden outburst of yelling.
"Hey… maybe steer clear." You said. "For… your own safety."
You didn't want her going in there if you weren't there, and you had no desire to be there alone anymore.
---
The drinks helped. They were there to help you focus. That's what you told yourself as you poured yourself a glass of brandy the next morning. You were hungover, after all. A little hair of the dog would help. Despite your best efforts, though, the figures and lines on the supply paperwork just seemed to swim in front of your eyes, chasing each other in circles as you tried to make sense of them.
You couldn't fully remember all the conversations from last night, but what you could remember filled you with equal parts hatred and fear. The fact they were so casual about these things, the way they spoke… you'd heard some terrible things said about women in your time in the service, but this was the first time you'd heard something akin to how men talked about women when they weren't around.
You were starting to suspect that joke wasn't a joke. You were extremely aware that all of them had laughed at it anyway. The thought of it was terrifying, utterly revolting. How many of them were laughing at a dark comment, and how many of them were laughing because it was relatable? How could you tell the difference?
Last night, you'd slept with your holster in arms reach, just in case.
Ugh. You put your head in your hands, then poured another drink. The first glass had gone quickly. It had been small though, so it was fine.
Surely another glass wouldn't hurt.
---
"Lieutenant?" You blinked, looked up from your desk. The brandy bottle was mostly empty. The paperwork was still empty.
"Oh. Ensign Ishinari. What is it?" You stared at him, trying to fathom what it was he wanted.
"...We're finishing work for the day. Are you alright? You look a little flushed."
"No, it's fine. Do you want a drink?" You gestured at the brandy bottle.
"Thank you ma'am, but no. Is the paperwork ready?" Oh. That.
"...No. I think you'll have to handle it, Ishinari. Something else came up." Spirits, that wasn't even a good lie. Mother would have chewed your ear off.
"I… I see." You picked up the packet of unfinished papers off your desk and offered them to him.
"Thanks, Ishinari."
"No problem, lieutenant." He took the papers and bowed. He still looked like he wanted to say something but you weren't sure what.
"Anything else?" You asked, suddenly impatient with this awkward bullshit.
"Ah… Sorry, ma'am. I hope this isn't too forward of me, but a lot of what they said didn't sit well with me, either. I hope that you don't think this reflects how all of us think and act--it's really shameful, honestly." His face was getting pink, probably embarrassed to be speaking to you so frankly. "They should know better about how to conduct themselves as officers in this navy. And… as men."
You stared at him, letting the silence stretch out as you fumbled for words. Right, he grew up in some weird little religious community. Probably was even less used to hearing men talk about women like this than you were.
And… Hell, if Kenshin or Hideaki had been there, that little shit with the crack about Maeda's wife would probably have more than a broken nose--there were men who didn't think and act like that.
"...Thank you, Ryu," you said, finally. Spirits, the drink must be making you familiar. "I know. But thank you." He bowed, then turned and left the office, leaving you alone in the early summer evening.
You were weirdly proud of your ensign, saying that. It was bad enough it got him drinking too, wasn't it? And if it was enough to get a teetotaling churchgoer to break one of his precious religious commandments, it was certainly enough for you.
You eyed the mostly empty brandy bottle and sighed.
----
The next week or two seemed to blur. Maybe three weeks? In hindsight it was hard to say. You didn't remember much except that you were constantly drunk and somehow functioning at the same time. The officer's club liquor cabinet began to get strangely empty looking and soon you found yourself ordering bottle of locally made rice liquor from the local drinking establishment, which was also the local unlicensed brothel that, you imagined, probably constituted most of the town's economy at this point.
Shamefully, you came within minutes of inquiring about their services, but you tripped over a bowl and it shook you to your senses.
There was nearly an alert, a message over the radio to stand by for orders, and you were fortunately sober enough to get the boat manned and ready to go. You had to stand on your bridge, drunk to the gills and reeking of cheap shochu while you waited to hear further orders, and seven hours later you were told to stand down. The longest you'd gone without drink in weeks.
The moment the boat was clear and you were out of sight, you made up for lost time, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. The next thing you knew, you were on the ground somewhere, it was dark, and there was a person standing over you.
You'd been here before, and there was a brief moment of panic before you realized it was Ota.
"Lieutenant? You okay?"
You tried to shake your head. Instead, you threw up on his boots.
"Alright. C'mon…" He reached down to grab at your arm and try to haul you up to your feet. You groaned. Had another brief flash of terror as you remember a dark street in Joseon.
"No, get off. I'm--I'm an officer," you slurred.
"You're falling down drunk is what you are. Don't know how you haven't pickled yourself the last few weeks." Despite your protests, you found yourself leaning on Ota as he maneuvered you through dark lanes to the door of your little house.
"That bad?"
"Princess, everyone can see you're completely fucked up, even though you think you're doing a good job of hiding it." He said. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you're doing a pretty admirable job for the circumstances, but…"
"Oh…" You paused. "Fuck."
"Yeah. Come on."
You barely made it up the little steps even with help, and then Ota propped you up against one of the support beams.
"I wanna lay down…" You slurred.
"Not the best idea right now, okay? Let me get your shoes off." As he started to unlace your boots, you reached out to grab his shoulder.
"Ota. Atsumori. Please don't tell anyone. Please. I…" Tears. Were you crying.
"Minisub solidarity, Lieutenant." He responded, pulling loose a boot.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't--I'm your superior officer, you shouldn't see me like this. Spirits..."
"It's fine. You're not the first friend I've had to help with this." A beat.
"Are we friends, Atsumori?" Why did you keep using his given name? Just call him Ota like normal, you drunk idiot.
"Hmm. Yeah, friends might be overstating it." He got the other boot loose and put them gentle aside. "How about comrades?"
You laughed, despite everything. Then felt a stab of guilt. You felt a lot of that lately.
"You know. On the submarine. I could speak Joseon." You wouldn't ever say this if you were sober.
"Seriously? This sounds like a bluff.
Say something in the language if you're telling the truth."
"I… I'm really drunk I can't really now…
Fuck off." You groaned and flopped back onto the floor. Winced as you almost cracked your head. "I remember you both talking about me and wondering if… if the dud torpedo thing was me tricking you. Or… There was something else…" Ota stepped up onto the floor next to you.
"Huh. Well… just goes to show you never know who's willing to keep secrets for you. Look, that just gives me more reason not to tell anyone about this--you have waaaay more dirt on me." He laughed quietly. "Where's your futon?"
"Next room," you muttered, as you turned yourself over and tried to get to your feet again. That was a mistake. The room spun.
"Stay there. I'm bringing it out here." You heard the door to the next room slide open, and moment later the sound of someone laying out bedclothes.
"I'm sorry about Kwon," you said as you pushed yourself back to a mostly sitting position. Started to unbutton your uniform jacket. It needed to be cleaned. Good thing you had an extra. "It was my fault. I messed up, you know? They gave me a medal for messing up and a trip to a psychiatric ward."
"Your fault? How was it your fault?" He was helping you out of the jacket. "Don't get me wrong I think having to be in the navy is bullshit, but nearly getting killed is part of the job."
"I sent us to the wrong hill. Maps are bullshit, I don't know how you read them. And we should have retreated, but I got this stupid… there were men retreating and I wanted to make sure they got home and we set up the guns and if we'd moved Kwon wouldn't have gotten hit and that Army captain wouldn't be dead and all those other sailors wouldn't be dead and it's all my fault. And they gave me a fucking medal for being stupid enough to do what I did."
He stared at you for a few second, thinking.
"Okay, let's imagine the story where you retreated. Sure, you save some lives, but all those guys that were retreating get… whatever, caught or shot. Which is bad. The whole war is bad. An imperialist cockfight that only the ruling class is going to win, and all the little people get to lose, but I can't do shit about it. I'm just a conscript. Shit, you can't do anything about it either."
"But Kwon wouldn't be in the hospital" You said vaguely.
"What makes you think we wouldn't be having this conversation about the guys you left behind? How much of a difference do you think little choices like that make? Idiot." He was tucking you into the futon, skirts still on. "Maybe he gets hit on the way out. Maybe you do. It's all way bigger than us. Even bigger than you."
It certainly felt that way.
"You think I'm not upset about Kwon, too? I--" He stopped and scrubbed the back of his arm across his eyes.
"Ota…"
"No, hold on. Listen to the common man for like, ten minutes in your life." He said, still smiling. "You didn't screw up. It just one of those bigger things, you can't think about it. Takes a lot more than one princess to change that stuff. You can't just fix it all. But this…"
He gestured at your drunk self, curled up miserably on your futon.
"This is something you can make a choice about. Lieutenant."
He gave the world's sloppiest salute, turned on his heel, and you were asleep.
---
The next morning you forced yourself not touch a bottle. It was the worst thing you'd been through. Maybe not worse than being shelled but it was bad. You felt yourself breaking into cold sweats and you had to pointedly avoid the officer's club just to make sure you couldn't even give yourself the chance to have another drink.
You got a letter back regarding the legalities, where Junji, constitutional law student, told you to just bribe an official to change the family registry. So you did, which was comically easy, and then informed the family that Ito Ran actually didn't need parental permission to marry a sailor, a fiction that they would have no way of knowing wasn't true.
Things were also a bit improved with Ishinari and Nashimoto, at least a little. They were still a little standoffish, and you imagined they were both a little wary given how bad you'd gotten, but there was less tension. Less awkwardness. Nashimoto didn't look like he thought you were about to stab him every time you talked to him. Ishinari was respectful and polite, but only in the way you might expect from a junior officer. There was none of the camaraderie you remembered between yourself and Kenshin, but neither the tension from before.
You weren't friends, but you could be colleagues.
And then, there wasn't anything left to do. Tsuda and his ecstatic new bride left on the next supply ship with orders to report to Shimazu. You supposed that she was going to see that train she'd been so excited about, now. You were still stuck in the most boring post in the world while the war happened over the horizon. You felt like action should come find you about now, that something exciting should happen, but nothing did. Nothing to distract you from the excruciating work of staying sober. It had been nearly two months since your torpedo boat action. You think you'd spent maybe two and a half weeks of that sober at this point.
You spent some of your seemingly copious free time simply exploring the village and its surrounding hills and field, hiked to the top of the small peak that overlooked the cove and enjoyed the seabreeze and beautiful view. You even started practicing your poetry again and sketching in a little notebook you carried. You hadn't done much art since you had left secondary school but it felt good to do something productive with your hands.
It was better than drinking.
Seemed like you'd just have to keep yourself busy.
===
Pick 2
[ ] You still had some of those primers on electricity, the ones you picked up so that you could understand what Aiko was studying. Maybe make a real effort on those? (+1 Technical)
[ ] Get those baseball teams organized. It'll be a nice way of keeping your mind something that's not exactly work and it'll keep the men from being too bored. (+1 forward to the next roll involving crew discipline)
[ ] Try to socialize with your fellow officers on your terms this time. There's still a bit of a sore spot there and you should patch it up. (+1 ongoing forward to Diplomacy with the port officers.)
[ ] You're already writing overly long letters to Aiko, though you let it slip when things were at their worst. She's probably worried about you. Write her a huge letter and make it lovely.
[ ] You let active drills slip while you were out of it. Get the ship running again and take her out. Drill the crew and make sure they're at the top of their game. Make sure all the new crew feel integrated and welcome, while you're at it. (+1 forward to your next roll with the crew in combat.)
[ ] If you want excitement, you need to go look for it. Resume the boat's pointless patrols and go bug some fishermen. Maybe you'll turn something up. (Fate roll.)
[ ] Hey, you've done a lot of reading since the days of the minisub. Maybe you should find an excuse to hang out with Ota, practice your Joseon, and talk about the world.
[ ] You weren't staying on top of your fitness when you were out of it. Time to do something about that and get back into shape proper. Aiko did say she thought you looked good in the photo! (+1 to the next roll involving physical prowess, buff Haruna.)
[ ] Get whatever newspapers and articles together that you can and get the best idea possible what the overall war situation is. You're honestly not sure anymore.
[ ] Put some of that influence to use and see if you can get the Kari moved to a port where you don't just sit around waiting for the war to end. You have a good crew and they should see some action! (Diplomacy roll)
A bonus forward means it applies to the next roll that meets the criteria. A bonus ongoing means it applies in that certain circumstance. Also don't forget to give us snippets! 
