The train ride back to the south, winding through the mountains of central Akitsukuni, was way better than the ride to the north. For one thing, it meant getting back to your ship and going to a wedding. For another, New Year's Eve had proven to be exactly what you needed to let go of all the tension and stress building up in your life. You'd had to dodge your mother's insistence on attending stuffy parties and dinners in the weeks leading up to it (though you'd not managed to avoid all of them) but had been on your own for New Year's Eve, at least in part by promising to participate in the more wholesome family celebration with her on New Year's Day itself.
And such a New Year's Eve celebration it had been! You had managed to shrug off your mother's insistence that you go to some dull official party with her and had instead dressed yourself to the nines in your dress uniform and then pinched a car from the family's garage. The 'official' car, a horrendous black thing that your mother and father rode in to official events, was gone already but there was something that suited your tastes: a delightful touring car in Akitsukuni blue that was for 'special occasions.' Well it
had been a special occasion and despite the protests of the family's mechanic you had gotten the car started and then woven unsteadily off down the icy road.
It had been slow going at first as you got used to the car. Driving, it turned out, was not at all like helming a boat and your awkward efforts to steer the thing almost induce a tumble into a ditch once or twice before you finally manage to get the hang of it. Now then, you had a party to get to. It had taken you a few minutes of driving to actually decide
where to go when it had struck you. Your cousin always had a big New Year's Eve party, usually with foreign dignitaries and other important people. Just the sort of place for the first woman officer of the Imperial Akitsukuni Navy to make her debut, right? So you had set yourself off towards the Outer Palace and its reception hall.
The trip to the Imperial Palace wa not nearly as smooth as you expected it to be. Once or twice you had to stop the car entirely to give yourself a moment to catch your breath and once even went skidding into a small snow bank. Thankfully, a squad of passing sailors on their way to their own carousing was more than happy to help you push the thing out and had left you with cheers and whoops and cries of 'Happy New Year, Lieutenant!' as you drove off into the night. Finally you had made it to the palace in the winter night. It had snowed the day before but tonight was clear and sharply cold. At the Outer Palace gate, like everyone else, you surrendered your sword, then puttered off along the road to the reception hall of the Outer Palace. Really, it was more of another small mansion, but it was only ever used for these kinds of things. There you handed the car over to a valet in Western-styled clothing and had marched up to the door.
The man at the door had eyed you and the two Imperial Guardsman on either side of the door in their dress uniforms and high-collared winter coats and looked at you as best they could while still appearing to stand at attention. The majordomo, one you didn't recognize, peered at you through his spectacles.
"May I see your invitation, madam?" You had been surprised. But you supposed your heavy black overcoat looked like anyone else's winter coat, though you'd thought that the hat would give it away.
"I don't need an invitation. I'm Princess Arisugawa Haruna, lieutenant in the Imperial Akitsukuni Navy."
"
Everyone needs an invitation."
"I've never needed one before. Excuse me." You stepped past him and the Imperial Guardsmen snapped to attention, their rifles coming up into a sharp 'present arms.' Even if the attendant didn't know a military uniform when he saw it, they certainly did. You raised your hand to the brim of your hat in acknowledgement of the salute and strolled past into the hall, leaving the man to call after you fruitlessly. Invitations. Pff. You didn't need invitations to see your cousin.
This reception hall was done in the Western style and so did not require removal of shoes, which made it easier to host receptions for diplomats and such. You stepped into the main hall. It was a sea of Western style suits, dresses, and uniforms, though you can see kimonos here and there throughout. Sure feels like a party! There was a band playing music discreetly in one corner, couples dancing stiffly, circulating waiters… Lovely. You stole somebody's drink off a waiter's plate and started stalking around the edge of the dance floor. Now you just needed some company.
There was a rule they pressed on all the gay girls in high society: stay away from the westerners. Yes, they were pretty and colourful and odd in their strange dresses and odd hairstyles, but their fish god or whatever had some very funny ideas about sex and romance, like it only being acceptable between a man and a woman.
"But what do the gay girls do?" You asked when you were fourteen.
"There are no gay girls in the West." Your aunt had insisted.
Well, that might be true, but they aren't
in the west now, are they? And surely it was your
responsibility to ensure at least one of them enjoyed some local culture?
The way you figured it, there had to be at least one lovely, repressed girl here badly in need of de-pressing. No, that's not right. Anti-pressing.
Un-repressing.
Maybe just a good pressing.
You circled the edge of the dance floor looking for an eligible partner. needed to restrain yourself here: most of these girls simply would not be interested. Yes, the Ambassador from Varnmark is amazing and like six feet tall (and
blonde) but she's
married, dummy. Yes, the cousin of that Hesperian steel magnate opening a branch here is tempting, but you also know she's got a solid track record with the bachelors (and, rumour has it, husbands) in these circles. You had to be
selective.
You were starting to realize that was hard. Akitsukuni girls had ways of signalling to one another their preferences. The decoration of the fan one carried or the way one fluttered it, the color of one's kimino, which wrist you wore jewelry on, how you wore a scarf or sash and so on. Western girls, on the other hand, were uptight about
everything else, never mind
this. You'd heard they were supposed to still be virgins when they got married, which blew your
mind. That surely didn't create any problems on their wedding night...
Wait. There was one. Slender and dark-haired, olive-skinned, maybe mixed Europan and Antolian? You weren't sure, but she was decked out in a very pretty dress and was wearing a pair of simple silver bracelets her left wrist. Paired bracelets on the left? Single. Paired on the right? Holding onto your wife's bracelet. Easy in theory. But it was possible she just hadn't picked up on that and was just trying to be fashionable. But… the jewelry was locally made. Hm. You needed more information.
You circled the dance floor again, this time focusing more on that girl specifically as you tried to pick up more clues. One sign was probably just a foreign misunderstanding. Two was more likely some repressed girl desperately signalling for help. What kind of gallant warrior wouldn't help a maiden in need, right?
You paused as you selected a new glass of champagne from a passing waiter (yours has gone mysteriously empty in the last few minutes), then looked back at the girl. Waaaaait. Her dress was a deep, gorgeous maroon color, but now that she moved her arm you saw a corsage of intertwined pink and lavender blossoms on the front of her dress. That settled it--that was the color combination one wore when you were a girl who wanted other girls to take a longer look at you, at least in Akitsukuni. And she was definitely
in Akitsukuni.
Target sighted, Gunnery Officer Arisukawa. Now that you'd caught it, the girl had practically walked in here wearing a sign. "Female Companionship Wanted: Silk Girls Apply Within." The only problem was the absolutely boring looking man in a gaudy Caspian Army uniform who seemed to be doing his best to talk her ear off about something that he no doubt thought was deeply interesting, but which she obviously had no interest in. How typical.
You continued your circle until spotted the man's face: the Crown Prince of Caspia. Talking about airplanes, probably, he was obsessed with the useless things. At least if he'd been a naval man you could find it somewhere inside yourself to respect that much about him. Somewhere. Maybe. Hypothetically.
Spirits, his little moustache was so stupid looking.
You had to separate this poor girl from her oblivious assailant, sweep her off her feet, and either get her out of here or, at least, into one of the side rooms. Fortunately, you knew this place better than anyone here except the staff, so that part wouldn't be too hard. The first steps, however, would require every step of your considerable diplomatic and subtle powers.
You walked right up to her and placed yourself bodily between her and the prince.
"
Dysch?" She shook her head.
"
Albian?" She gave a sort of shrug. Good enough. "Would you like to get out of here?" Nod.
You took her hand and pulled her towards one of the side exits. The Prince sputtered something in protest, but was probably too polite and too aware of where he was to make too much of a scene. Instead he had to settle for glaring after you. You made a rude gesture back, subtly.
"
Merci.
Thank you for, um…" She paused, fumbled for the Albian word she was looking for. Where your accent was proper, refined, Albian (thank your parents for importing a private tutor) hers was uncertain. Gallian, if you had to guess. "
Um, the New Allegheny say, jailbreak." She laughed and you felt your heart melt. Spirits, what a pretty laugh.
"
He was a dreadful bore. I just had to save you," you said with a grin, doing your best to maintain your cool composure.
"
Yes! He would not… always the aeroplanes!"
"
I do have a question," you said in a quiet voice. "
Did you wear those colors on purpose? And the, ah, bracelets?" Please don't let this be a misunderstanding, please don't let this be a misunderstanding, please--
"
Oui.
Yes. Ah.. A book I read…" She trailed off, her cheeks getting ruddy. You smiled back at her.
"
A good book then," you replied, then leaned forward so your murmured words could only be heard in her ear. "...
but how about we get you some practical knowledge on silk girls." Her only response was a blushing, excited nod.
You lead her through the crowd, slipping past familiar faces--there was the prime minister, and there your cousin resplendent in her more traditional attire. She smiled when she caught sight of you and your new friend.
"Be nice to her," she admonished you as you slipped past. "Happy New Year, Haruna."
"Happy New Year, Your Imperial Majesty," you replied, laughing. "She knows what she's getting into. She even got the colours right!" Your cousin's response was to give a slight, almost invisible roll of her eyes and a smile.
"Have fun, then. What else is the New Year for?" Hook up status: blessed by the Empress herself. That had to be an auspicious start to the year, right? The girl's hand felt warm in yours and as you reached the periphery of the ballroom, you had to pause and think about what exactly was going to happen next. You hesitated for a moment, gears turning in your head, then got probably your best idea of the night.
"
Would you like to see more of the palace?" you asked as you tugged her towards the coat check.
"
The palace?
Oui,
of course!"
"
Good." You paused at the attendant's to get your coat and hers, which was a lovely sable fur coat that you were intensely jealous of in your stodgy wool uniform, but at least the two of you matched in outerwear. Then you stepped out into the cold winter night, past the the attendant who had given you so much trouble earlier. Instead of calling for your car, you stepped down across the gravel drive and onto a meandering path that led away through the gardens. You felt your companion shiver and draw a little closer.
"
We're not going far," you assured her and drew her close to you to provide a little more of a bulwark against the winter chill. It also let you slip an arm around her waist and you felt her tense as you did so. You glanced at her, not sure if you were perhaps going too far, but her cheeks were ruddy and her lips were curved into a delicate little smile. Then she cuddled closer.
"...
We cannot walk such as this at home," she murmured quietly as the snow-covered gardens began to muffle all other sound. "
I like it. Very much." You weren't sure how to reply to that. It seemed so odd to you that a girl (or a boy or anyone for that matter) couldn't hold the one she cared for close while walking on a cold winter's evening, without risking suspicion or censure. The West was a strange place.
"
Excuse me, but are you perhaps Lieutenant Haruna Arisugawa?" The question shouldn't have surprised you, but it had.
"
Ha, yes. I didn't realize I'd made a commotion in your country as well." She giggled at your reply.
"
You have! Sort of. It is very, um… good that the navy is letting women be officers now. It is so strange to my country that they have not done this thing before, you see? My mother, she is the naval attache here with our embassy, you understand? And my sister is a captain of a big ship. This is not strange, so for you to be the first... They are always talking about you." She laughed again.
"
Only good things, I should hope," you replied with more than a bit of cheek.
"
Mais oui!
Of course only good things. You are a silly girl."
"
I have a reputation to think of, don't I?" you teased in return. You talked a while about the differences between your countries, and the women in them. She was a university student (studying 'particle physics', whatever that was. What the hell is a proton?) and was visiting her mother here over their winter holidays. She was supposed to catch a ship back home the next week and had been immersing herself in Akitsukuni and its culture while she could.
As the winding path crossed over a picturesque little stream, now frozen over, and deposited you in the courtyard of a small ("small") residence. It was a guest house, meant for visiting dignitaries, nobility or foreign royalty. None of which were present, of course, which meant that it was empty. A little cold, perhaps, but then you had the feeling the two of you wouldnt have a problem there. You guided her to the step.
"
Here. You must take your shoes off," you said, grinning. "
It is the custom."
"
I will be so cold," she said with a groan. "
Must I?"
"
I'm afraid so, my dear." The two of you clumsily removed your shoes in the cold and tucked them in the appropriate place just inside the door, then you led her through empty tatami floored rooms. You were certain one of these must have--ah ha. You slid open one of the low cabinets and grinned. Futon and bedclothes, right where they were supposed to be. You tugged them free and carefully laid it out, then fluffed up the big downy comforter that had come with it.
"
There, someplace warmer for you," you teased as you slipped out of your heavy coat, and then stuck your rather cold feet (and the cold rest of you) underneath the comforter. It was dark in here and you could hear rustling as she no doubt divested herself of that fur coat and then you felt her weight slide into the bed next to you. You reached out to draw her close and found that actually, instead of gown, you felt only the soft silky feel of her chemise between your hand and the warmth of her skin.
Oh. She was shivering, too, the poor thing.
"
Are you alright?" You had asked, tucking her in close against you. "...
Sorry, this must be overwhelming." The brief anxiety that this poor girl didn't know what she was doing and maybe didn't even want to be here fluttered through your head. Maybe she was just confused. Maybe there
were no gay Westerners.
"
It is," she'd admitted. "
But I am fine. I--" She hesitated. "
I hoped…"
"
Hoped what?" You asked quietly, not sure what she had been trying to say. And then she'd answered by pressing her lips to yours in the dark and that had pretty definitely put your fears to rest. Her hands fumbled at the buttons of your uniform, and you let your own explore beneath her silk undergarment.
She hadn't quite known where to put her hands but you let her lead at first, not wanting to rush a novice dancer and end up treading on toes. She was enthusiastic though and soon you gently put things on course and took back the lead from her to help show her the exact steps she might be missing. As cold as it was outside, the little warm capsule you had created here felt like it was meant to last all night, though you had the feeling that eventually she might be missed.
Later, the two of you had laid there and cuddled beneath the heavy comforter, her head tucked beneath your chin as the two of you caught your breath and tried to pretend that neither of you would have to remind the other that perhaps you should get back. She fumbled around for her handbag and extracted a matchbook and a pack of cigarettes (one of which you politely declined), then laid back to smoke, her eyes closed.
"
Well? How did that stack up against your books?" You asked, grinning.
"
When it is the seductress from Akitsukuni, usually there is much more silk rope involved," She had said. "
Poisonous lips and magic too. Also, the heroine usually wants to escape her clutches. I understand why this is even less now."
You had laughed and the two of you had shared a few giggles over silly pulp writing (she retrieved a small volume from her handbag and slipped it in your coat pocket for later examination) and then she had finished her cigarette. The two of you had shared a few more minutes of lazy cuddling before reluctantly you had helped each other dress, and you'd escorted her back to the party, which was still in full swing. You'd danced with her, had a few drinks and then the night had become the usual blur of alcohol, pointless talk, and dancing that New Year's Eve parties turned into.
It was only now, stretched out in your train compartment on the way south that you realized that you had never gotten her name. You fumbled into your pocket for the small volume, which was in Gallian. The cover had a crude watercolour image of a dashing blonde heroine confronting a… staggeringly inaccurately drawn Lydian woman in what looked like a Cathayan dress. You flipped open the front cover, and written neatly in cursive hand was a name. Helene S.
Well, that was lovely. You smiled and flopped back into your seat. This novel looked like trash, and you were definitely going to have to learn Gallian so you could read it.
---
Your arrival in Shimazu was the opposite of the one in Tokei. Hideaki and Aiko were waiting for you at the station and had both welcome you with huge hugs before helping you load your luggage into a waiting taxi and then both talked your ear off all the way back to their house. With the wedding coming up, you had offered, of course, to stay in a hotel but everyone was insisting that you stay in their home again because they couldn't possibly dream of making you pay for a hotel. You'd be sharing with Aiko again since now both Hideaki AND Junji were home and crammed into their shared room. The house was small and cramped and overflowing with warmth and cheer and a sense of 'home.' It was great.
"You know," you told Hideaki, "I can wear civilian clothes to the wedding so I don't overshadow you on your big day."
"Nonsense!" He said, "Though it's going to be strange saluting you every time I see you during the reception." He was still an ensign: not a lot of room for upward mobility on a destroyer tender. Plus he lacked all those important political connections.
"Hideaki!"
"Seriously, just wear your uniform. Akio and Masahide are both going to be there too. Do you
want to be the odd one out?"
"I am definitionally the odd one out." You said, perhaps more bitter than intended.
"So don't make it worse! Besides, I want you to be standing next to me in
my uniform and you in yours in the photographs. We're friends, Haruna."
"Alright. If it's what you want."
Of course there was also the thorny issue of gifts. The traditional thing to give was money and of course you'd brought that, though you hadn't been sure how much was too much, especially since you didn't want to overshadow the gifts of money the parents of the the grooms would be giving to their sons.
You'd settled on a decent amount, but not too much, and hoped that it wouldn't cause any trouble. You'd also wanted to give something more personal, though. Hideaki had been your first real friend in the Navy and his family was rapidly starting to feel more and more like it was also yours every time you saw them. You'd managed to get some shopping in while you were in Tokei and found something you really liked.
[ ] A painting, something to decorate their new shared home with. Nothing fancy. You found an original seascape from one of your great-grandmother's favorite artists in a cute little antique shop in Tokei and it seemed to suit the both of them.
[ ] A miniature sailing ship in a bottle. It's a quirky little art piece to be displayed in their home and it connects to both Osamu, a designer and builder of ships and to Hideaki, a man who sails on them. It's an older Akitsukuni vessel, the kind that used to ply the coastal trade up and down the islands.
[ ] The most modern thing you've seen yet. An electric kettle. You just plug it in and it heats the water to a boil all by itself! It's amazing, really. What kind of working man (or woman, or person) wouldn't find a use for one, especially with how much tea people drink.
[ ] Write in (Subject to QM approval)
