Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Well, what else did you expect from the Shokaku shippers?So we've already got shadowruns about Ari being an Abyssal in disguise.
Kant-O-Celle Quest [a Kantai Collection game, transcribed from 4chan]
- Thread starter Trace Coburn
- Start date
I'm more worried that it might be possible to slide into becoming one.
Trace Coburn
BattleTech Starfighter Analyst
- Location
- NDBBM, New Zealand
And in other news, it seems that fluffbringer's Native American piece has been, erm, emphatically declared non-canon: capped from deme's ask.fm.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Wow. I don't know which I'm more impressed by: Deme having an Ask.fm, or the sheer cold rage in that dressing-down.
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
Since no ones yelling about the sky falling down, all's well as it gets in the thread?
some missed opportunity here and there, but it's more or less just a transitional chapter with not much going on aside from willie being adorbs. Of course it's left on a Kongou related cliffhanger to start next thread though
seems like we're cool with Hate again, though who knows how long before the same can be said with Arizona
seems like we're cool with Hate again, though who knows how long before the same can be said with Arizona
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
seems like we're cool with Hate again, though who knows how long before the same can be said with Arizona
Dude its not the end of the 'arizona route'. she was pissed and rightly so.
I'm not implying route break or anything, I'm just pointing out what happened
and of course there is the whole can of abyssal worm that is Naka breaking down too, though the Naka-chan writeup implies that she'd be more or less unreachable for the next few days
and of course there is the whole can of abyssal worm that is Naka breaking down too, though the Naka-chan writeup implies that she'd be more or less unreachable for the next few days
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Trace Coburn
BattleTech Starfighter Analyst
- Location
- NDBBM, New Zealand
Updates list:
Chief Parker — revised Telegraf 4 — DONE!
Of Monuments and Memories — revised part 2 — DONE!
Kaga, 76 years Later — Part 2 — DONE!
Session #41 — DONE!
You Gotta Go Fast, Willie!* (by Shimakaze Write-anon) — DONE!
* Title is my doing; will change if the write-anon asks.
Chief Parker — revised Telegraf 4 — DONE!
Of Monuments and Memories — revised part 2 — DONE!
Kaga, 76 years Later — Part 2 — DONE!
Session #41 — DONE!
You Gotta Go Fast, Willie!* (by Shimakaze Write-anon) — DONE!
* Title is my doing; will change if the write-anon asks.
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Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
Is this teh new writefag? PLease tell me it's teh new one.
Trace Coburn
BattleTech Starfighter Analyst
- Location
- NDBBM, New Zealand
Patience, boyo, patience! Good things come to those who wait.
Bullshit to that, going fast at all cost is completely relevant to the new writeup
Gotta go fast!
Gotta go fast!
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
That has to be something Abyssal, I'll put solid change on it.
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
Just wait for Trace.
You Gotta Go Fast, Willie! (by Shimakaze Write-anon)
Trace Coburn
BattleTech Starfighter Analyst
- Location
- NDBBM, New Zealand
Shimakaze: "It really wouldn't be professional to walk around naked."
(art by Daniel9140 of e-shuushuu.net)
The U.S.S. William D. Porter, "Willie" to her friends, and "Wee Willie Worthless" to those who looked down upon her (who numbered more than Willie was comfortable with) was at the firing range desperately trying to improve her gunnery accuracy. It was... something of a mixed bag, to say the least. As far as Willie could tell, she was the only destroyer in the world whose accuracy improved while she wasn't actually looking at the target. Still, she had to keep at it; people were depending on her! She couldn't let them-
"Excuse me."
At the interruption, Willie screamed in fright and just barely managed to keep from discharging her cannon into the sky. After a moment to get her breathing back under control, the red-faced destroyer turned to the person who had addressed her.
"I-I'm so sorry!" The destroyer blubbered, "I didn't mean to-"
It was then that Willie realized she was apparently talking to a hooker.
A bit taller then her, with long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes, the figure was dressed in something that belonged in a fetish magazine. The only thing nice that could be said about it was that it vaguely had naval connotations. And what was with the bunny ears...? The figure shocked Willie further by... bowing politely.
"I apologize. It was extremely unprofessional and unsafe of me to disturb you while you were practicing. I should have known better and ask your forgiveness."
Willie blinked. "Um. I forgive you?"
"Thank you." The blonde straightened. "Are you the William D. Porter?"
"Um, yes?"
"My name is Shimakaze, and I am of what was once the Imperial Japanese Navy." She frowned. "I suppose I'm now JMSDF. It hasn't been made clear to me."
Willie stared, speechless. "Why are you wearing that?" she asked faintly.
"It really wouldn't be professional to walk around naked," Shimakaze pointed out with a raised eyebrow. "Not to mention the embarrassment factor."
"Did you... come back wearing that?" the American destroyer choked out, trying very hard to understand why anybody in their right mind would voluntarily wander around wearing... THAT.
"No, I had a heavier outfit when I first came back," Shimakaze explained. "I switched to this."
"...Why?" Willie groaned out, shaking her head. She was convinced that her face was burning up with embarrassment just looking at the Japanese destroyer.
"Well, it's like this," Shimakaze cleared her throat and raised her hands. "This outfit weighs less. Therefore, I have to propel less mass with the same propulsion system. The result: I go faster." The blonde nodded to herself, pleased with her logic.
William D. Porter just stared blankly. "...Wouldn't it almost be better to walk around in a bathing suit."
The other destroyer frowned. "That sounds very unprofessional."
"I guess," Willie sighed, deciding to look away from the spectacle. What her gaze fell upon was a smiling turret that waved cheerfully at her. Wait what in the-
"So, you can go fast, right?" Shimakaze continued on, unaware or uncaring of Willie's sudden horrified bewilderment.
"39 knots," Willie said faintly. She raised a trembling hand to point at the friendly turret. "W-w-w-what in the world-"
"Wow, you rally are fast!" Shimakaze exclaimed, and the unfamiliar, unexpected and genuine appreciation in Shimakaze's voice caused Willie to whip her head around. The Japanese destroyer was absolutely beaming at her. "You're almost as fast as me! And with that weapons loadout... I'm kinda jealous." Willie's question seemed to click with her. "Oh, and that's Rensouhou-chan. He's with me."
"Oh. Uh..."
"Wanna be friends?" Shimakaze asked.
"Wha?! I! Really?!" Willie gaped at the sudden question. This destroyer, with the... admittedly terrifying dress sense, was actually looking to befriend her?!"
"Yeah, I wanna race you," said destroyer nodded.
Now Willie's face was flushing for entirely different reasons. "Wh-why me?" she asked bashfully, pressing her finger tips together.
"You seem nice," Shimakaze shrugged. "And I wanna race you cause, well..." the blonde scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Scuttlebutt says that we might be getting upgrades soon. Still up in the air. And who better to test myself against than a Fletcher-class?" She shrugged. "I'm gonna level with you. I wanna see how you perform and get some ideas for upgrades for myself. Of course, I'll help you work on any redesigns for yourself, too. I've kinda been investigating remodeling procedures, just in case something like this came around."
"Oh. Well then..." Willie blinked, a little overwhelmed by the brief conversation. "I... I'd love that, Shimakaze." She smiled shyly.
Shimakaze smiled back, seemingly satisfied. "Great. I'll get you one of my outfits. We can race... tomorrow, say?"
Seven of those words pounded into Willie's brain, striking her numb. "What."
"Yeah, I have obligations today," Shimakaze said apologetically, "Tomorrow would be better-"
"One of your outfits?!" Willie all but shrieked.
"Yeah, they'll make you go faster, like me," the Japanese destroyer said, oblivious to Willie's sudden discomfort. "Every drop of speed helps, you know?"
"I DON'T WANNA WEAR ONE OF THOSE OUTFITS!!!" the American destroyer wailed, hiding her face behind her hands.
Shimakaze cocked her head curiously. "Why not? I'm sure it would look just fine on you."
"I'D DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT IN ONE OF THOSE THINGS!!!" Willie howled, mortified at the very thought.
Shimakaze mulled this over for a minute. "You lost me."
Willie was spared a long, drawn-out conversation on the need to follow certain uniform regulations by a new voice cutting into Shimakaze's dogged insistence. "What in the name of holy fuck am I looking at?" Curiously, the Japanese destroyer turned around to see a trio of new arrivals. U.S.S. Harder, still wet from being in the water, gaped at the two of them. Behind him, Naka looked upon the scene with what can be described as an embarrassed grimace.
And even further back, Fubuki looked on with an expression seemingly devoid of any emotion, yet filled with deep understanding. An expression that conveyed that she had had to deal with shit much like this in the past, and far too much of it.
"Hello," Shimakaze said politely.
Harder gaped at Shimakaze. At the cheerful Rensouhou-chan. Back and forth between the two of them. "...What in the name of all that is holy are you wearing?!" he all but screamed.
Shimakaze cocked her head. "Clothing."
"Well, I can see that!" Harder spat.
"...Then why did you ask?"
"Why in the name of almighty Jehovah are you wearing that getup?!" the submarine choked out. "You look like a damn hooker!"
Shimakaze frowned at this. "That's ridiculous. I would never do such a thing. I have my pride as a warship."
Harder's mouth worked, searching for words that just did not exist. His face was beet red with a variety of emotions, from embarrassment, to... other things that Willie didn't want to consider, given how his eyes kept flicking to and away from from Shimakaze. "Just... I... WHY. ARE. YOU. DRESSED. LIKE. THAT," he finally bit out.
"Extra speed," she replied. "Why are you so obsessed with how I dress?"
"I am not!"
"You totally are, given how you keep staring at me," Shimakaze snorted. Harder choked again at this, beyond words. Naka raised an eyebrow, looking faintly amused, while Fubuki... had a weak, vacant smile on her face. Willie was beginning to wonder if she should creep away, when something seemed to occur to Shimakaze.
"Wait a moment," the destroyer mused, walking up to Harder, who flinched at her approach. She considered him thoughtfully. "We're about the same height... same hair and eye color, and you're of a fairly slender build. Plus, you're a submarine, which is fairly slow..." Understanding seemed to dawn on her. "Oh. I understand now. You're one of those."
"One of what?" Harder asked flatly, staring warily.
Shimakaze clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded. "Yes, Harder. You may have one of my outfits."
Time seemed to stop and Willie almost gagged at the sound of these words. Harder's face instantly turned to a shade of purple with sheer outrage and humiliation. Naka's eyes bulged out of their sockets, while Fubuki... had no apparent reaction.
"...what..." Harder finally rasped out.
"I'm not going to lie, I find your tastes to be incredibly weird," Shimakaze said solemnly. "But I have heard of this sort of thing before, and it is after all a new era, which we must embrace courageously. Thus Harder, while I privately consider you to be a massive pervert, rest assured that my professional opinion of you remains unchanged. I know what you subs are like after all; I've had to deal with I-19. Anyway, I'll make sure to send you some of my clothes."
As Harder struggled to find words to express himself, the blonde destroyer turned back to Willie. "So, I'll see you tomorrow at noon? Great! I'll make sure to bring an outfit for you!" Willie could only moan in despair as Shimakaze turned and skipped off, followed by her... living... turret... thing.
And then there was silence, as Harder stared unseeing into the space once occupied by Shimakaze, his face contorting as his mind tried unsuccessfully to process what had just happened. Silently, Naka slid forward to place a reassuring hand on Willie's shoulder.
"...What... just happened...?" the American destroyer said quietly, racking her brains for places that she could hide from Shimakaze.
Fubuki laughed tonelessly. "You just got Shimakaze'd. Welcome to Yokosuka."
William D. Porter was running at top speed through the streets of Yokosuka Naval Base, terrified out of her mind. Her eyes were scrunched tightly shut, tears forming at the corners, as she made a blind dash for freedom from the terrifying specter looming behind her, one from whom she could never seem to escape.
"Great job! You're as fast as I thought!" Shimakaze shouted encouragingly from her place close behind. "But you would be so much faster if you put this on!"
Gasping at how CLOSE Shimakaze sounded, Willie whipped her head around, looking desperately over her shoulder, only to see the Japanese destroyer much, much closer than she had dared fear.
And in Shimakaze's hands, proffered as a gift, was one of her sets of clothing. Clothing that she fully expected Willie to actually wear.
The thought of donning such an outfit made Willie simultaneously wail with horror and flush with embarrassment. The day had started well enough. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Shimakaze had greeted her with a smile. Then she had insisted that Willie put on that... abomination of an outfit, and all of a sudden the morning had turned into an impromptu jogging session. From Shimakaze's viewpoint, at least.
Willie just wanted to get as far away from the Sailor Thong getup as was humanly possible. Shimakaze just wasn't getting the memo, there.
"I-I-I k-keep telling, you, I don't w-wanna-"
"Uh, Willie, look out for that-"
And then Willie ran face-first into a brick wall.
"...Ouch," Shimakaze observed, screeching to a halt. "Uh, are you okay, Willie? Did you shift in time?"
Wordlessly, Willie slid down the wall, face-first, until she hit her knees. Overcome with pain and the sheer humilation of running into a STUPID wall right in front of STUPID Shimakaze, she burst into tears, unsuccessfully trying to hide her mortification behind her hands.
"Ah, Willie?!" Panicked, Shimakaze was beside the American destroyer in an instant, checking her over for injuries. She poked Willie's cheek. "Metal. It honestly looks like the wall got the worst of it... are you okay?" The blonde destroyer looked askance at the new crack in the wall. Warship hull beat brick any day of the week, after all.
"...why..." Willie whispered thickly.
"Why what?" Shimakaze asked, blinking.
"Why do I have to be such a screw-up?!" Willie wailed, pounding on the wall weakly.
"You're not a screw-up."
"Have you read ANYTHING about me?!" Willie sobbed, looking over at Shimakaze, who was staring back blankly.
"Sure. Your first voyage was with a mostly green crew, who made all of the mistakes one would expect of a mostly green crew, and accidentally shot a torpedo at President Roosevelt." Willie sobbed louder. "Embarrassing, but it hardly makes you a screw-up."
"That wasn't all of it though," Willie moans.
"Eh, who cares," Shimakaze shrugged. "That was then, this is now. Clean slate and stuff, you know."
"I... huh?" Willie blinked. "What... how can you say that?"
"Look," Shimakaze said, sitting down next to Willie. Her pose showed off a lot more than the American destroyer was comfortable with. More than usual, that was. "I understand where you're coming from. Our current state of being can be very confusing. My personal theory is that we're animate gestalts of multiple soul impressions gathered around a central consciousness influenced by both external views of us and our own perceptions of ourselves."
Willie's mind went blank, both from a certain existential dread at Shimakaze's offhand words, and the fact that she had no goddamned clue what the blonde destroyer was prattling on about.
"What," she finally offered.
"Though I'm not sure about any of that," Shimakaze admitted, shrugging. "Nobody seems to want to talk about it, and whenever I ask to compare notes with the others' miniaturized crew remnants... or so my theory goes... they all run off for some reason. Weird."
Willie suddenly wanted to run away herself. A cold sweat running down her brow, her eyes flickered around, seeking some sort of escape, while also wondering how Shimakaze could be so damn calm while talking about these things that were so mind-breaking that Willie's soul wanted to scream just hearing them uttered out loud oh GOD-
"But it doesn't really matter, and I'm getting off-topic." Shimakaze waved her hand to brush the subject off. "In short: you were made, had an embarrassing start, started to do pretty well for yourself, got sunk-" Willie flinched sharply, "-and then you came back. And despite a few embarrassing incidents-"
"A few?" Willie muttered bitterly.
"-You did really good on your first action, and everyone knows it," Shimakaze went on, not hearing Willie. "So, like... the past is history, to hell with it, live in the present." Shimakaze ticked the points off on her fingers.
Willie blinked at her counterpart's words. "...You think I did good?"
"Yeah, good job," Shimakaze nodded. "I mean, I got sunk too, you know? But now I'm here, and there's a lot of cool stuff to do. So who cares?"
Willie wiped her remaining tears away, thinking. "I don't get you," she admitted at last. "I mean, sometimes I wonder if you're even here, and then you go and say stuff like that, you know?"
Shimakaze tilted her head. "Of course I'm here. I'm sitting right next to you, you can see me." Willie just groaned in response. The Japanese destroyer gazed at her for a moment. "As for getting me, well, here's what I think." She started ticking points off on her fingers. "Going fast is awesome. Torpedoes are great. Armor is for losers. There you go. I mean, what more do you need?"
William D. Porter winced. "I really don't think that armor is for losers, Shimakaze."
"It slows you down. Just don't get hit. That's what speed is for." The blonde destroyer nodded, pleased at her own wisdom. Willie just groaned again.
The two sat in silence for a bit, with Shimakaze staring silently at the American destroyer, who fidgeted at the attention. After a moment, Willie spoke up. "So... how did you come back?"
"Well..." Shimakaze stared off into the distance, thinking. "I remember sailing. Then I got sunk. Everything was dark and cold and kinda ticklish, then I could hear something in the distance. Next thing I know, I'm staggering onto the beach." She frowned. "The first thing I remember thinking was 'why do I have legs?' Things were kinda weird, you know what I mean?"
Willie nodded in response, rapt. She remembered the confusion of her own return all too well. Not to mention the embarrassment.
"Anyway, they found me pretty fast, and then I was sitting in Admiral Goto's office, learning about the internet, trying to figure out what had happened while he was giving me the short version all calm-like, you know?" Shimakaze shrugged. "I was lost and confused. I didn't know what I was, why I was... anything. For a moment, I was kind of scared." A sigh escaped her lips.
"Yeah," Willie breathed, moving closer. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean."
"And then, came the fateful moment," Shimakaze turned to Willie, eyes glittering, "When I learned about rocket engines."
Willie blinked. "Rocket engines?"
"Rocket engines," Shimakaze agreed. She raised her hands to illustrate. "They go FAST."
"Fast," Willie echoed dully.
"REALLY fast," Shimakaze nodded feverishly. "And it was then that I knew my destiny. And everything became clear." She mused over it for a moment. "It's so simple. I really don't know why all of the other ships agonize over this stuff. I mean, who cares?"
"...And your destiny involves rocket engines?" Willie asked desperately, feeling like she was being tossed in a storm.
"It's a brave new world, full of new discoveries," Shimakaze said with barely-restrained excitement. "All kinds of new technology, all kinds of ways to go really, really fast. And I mean like, super fast! Zoom!" She gestured to emphasize. "How can I not be a part of it? After all, Japanese engineering is nothing if not innovative and cutting-edge. Just look at all the stuff our navy did!"
"Uh..." Willie stuttered, trying not to look Shimakaze in the eye.
"So yeah, good talk," the Japanese destroyer patted Willie on the knee. "Feel better?"
"...Rocket engines?" Willie asked again, very faintly.
"As soon as my requisitions get approved," Shimakaze nodded. "So like I was saying, feel better now?"
"H-huh? Um..." Willie was surprised to realize that she did. "I kinda do, yeah."
"I'm glad," Shimakaze said with a warm smile. "You're so much cuter when you smile."
"E-eh?!" Willie squeaked, covering her blushing face with both hands.
"Totally. Anyway, put on this outfit and we can start training." Cheerfully, Shimakaze offered her the costume. Willie just stared at it in all-consuming horror, face flushing even redder than before.
"R-r-r-right here?!" she squealed.
Shimakaze tilted her head. "Of course not. That would be unprofessional. And silly. Just change in a bathroom." She nudged the outfit closer.
Willie stared at it for a long moment, hesitating. Then she took a deep breath and screwed up her courage. "Shimakaze... thank you for being a friend. But I can't wear this clothing."
"Hm?" Shimakaze looked at Willie curiously. "Sure you can, it'd totally fit."
"I-I mean!" Willie took another deep breath, then looked her friend in the eye. "I-I'm sorry! But I honestly think that wearing this outfit is... k-kinda inappropriate!" Her hand slapped over her mouth as she realized that she had just insulted Shimakaze's choice in clothing.
Shimakaze just stared blankly at Willie. At the set of clothing. At Willie again. Her expression turned mournful. "You're right."
Willie started, her hands coming away from her mouth. "Eh?"
Shimakaze stood up and bowed deeply. "Willie, I apologize. I see now why you were so hesitant to wear this clothing. It's so obvious to me now. I am deeply sorry for not acknowledging your feelings on the matter. Please forgive me."
"O-oh no! Please don't apologize!" Willie stammered, scrambling to her feet. "I-I mean, you meant it as a gift, and I really appreciate that!"
Shimakaze straightened up, first clenched and face set with determination. "It's obvious that the bathing suit needs to have an American flag pattern!"
Willie's gut felt like it plummeted onto the pavement with all of the force of a depth-charge. "...what..." she whimpered, very weakly.
Shimakaze rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Naturally, a proud American destroyer would have a strong sense of patriotism. How fitting. I've heard of proud American women wearing their own flag in such a display of national pride. To think I was so foolish as to miss this! Very well, then." Nodding to herself, the Japanese destroyer looked at Willie. "Forget about the outfit for today, then. As soon as I can find an appropriate swimsuit, then we can change up your outfit. And I won't take no for an answer!" She added firmly. "This is a gift from me to you, and there is no need to be embarrassed about receiving it!"
Willie wondered just how wrong someone could possibly be about that last part. She felt like Shimakaze was breaking new ground here.
"Anyway, forget it for now. Let's go to practice. We must be professional about keeping up our skills after all." Taking Willie by the wrist, she began to lead them both to the practice range.
Willie just moaned with despair, and wondered how she would be able to maintain what tiny scraps of dignity she had left.
"Great job! You're as fast as I thought!" Shimakaze shouted encouragingly from her place close behind. "But you would be so much faster if you put this on!"
Gasping at how CLOSE Shimakaze sounded, Willie whipped her head around, looking desperately over her shoulder, only to see the Japanese destroyer much, much closer than she had dared fear.
And in Shimakaze's hands, proffered as a gift, was one of her sets of clothing. Clothing that she fully expected Willie to actually wear.
The thought of donning such an outfit made Willie simultaneously wail with horror and flush with embarrassment. The day had started well enough. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Shimakaze had greeted her with a smile. Then she had insisted that Willie put on that... abomination of an outfit, and all of a sudden the morning had turned into an impromptu jogging session. From Shimakaze's viewpoint, at least.
Willie just wanted to get as far away from the Sailor Thong getup as was humanly possible. Shimakaze just wasn't getting the memo, there.
"I-I-I k-keep telling, you, I don't w-wanna-"
"Uh, Willie, look out for that-"
And then Willie ran face-first into a brick wall.
"...Ouch," Shimakaze observed, screeching to a halt. "Uh, are you okay, Willie? Did you shift in time?"
Wordlessly, Willie slid down the wall, face-first, until she hit her knees. Overcome with pain and the sheer humilation of running into a STUPID wall right in front of STUPID Shimakaze, she burst into tears, unsuccessfully trying to hide her mortification behind her hands.
"Ah, Willie?!" Panicked, Shimakaze was beside the American destroyer in an instant, checking her over for injuries. She poked Willie's cheek. "Metal. It honestly looks like the wall got the worst of it... are you okay?" The blonde destroyer looked askance at the new crack in the wall. Warship hull beat brick any day of the week, after all.
"...why..." Willie whispered thickly.
"Why what?" Shimakaze asked, blinking.
"Why do I have to be such a screw-up?!" Willie wailed, pounding on the wall weakly.
"You're not a screw-up."
"Have you read ANYTHING about me?!" Willie sobbed, looking over at Shimakaze, who was staring back blankly.
"Sure. Your first voyage was with a mostly green crew, who made all of the mistakes one would expect of a mostly green crew, and accidentally shot a torpedo at President Roosevelt." Willie sobbed louder. "Embarrassing, but it hardly makes you a screw-up."
"That wasn't all of it though," Willie moans.
"Eh, who cares," Shimakaze shrugged. "That was then, this is now. Clean slate and stuff, you know."
"I... huh?" Willie blinked. "What... how can you say that?"
"Look," Shimakaze said, sitting down next to Willie. Her pose showed off a lot more than the American destroyer was comfortable with. More than usual, that was. "I understand where you're coming from. Our current state of being can be very confusing. My personal theory is that we're animate gestalts of multiple soul impressions gathered around a central consciousness influenced by both external views of us and our own perceptions of ourselves."
Willie's mind went blank, both from a certain existential dread at Shimakaze's offhand words, and the fact that she had no goddamned clue what the blonde destroyer was prattling on about.
"What," she finally offered.
"Though I'm not sure about any of that," Shimakaze admitted, shrugging. "Nobody seems to want to talk about it, and whenever I ask to compare notes with the others' miniaturized crew remnants... or so my theory goes... they all run off for some reason. Weird."
Willie suddenly wanted to run away herself. A cold sweat running down her brow, her eyes flickered around, seeking some sort of escape, while also wondering how Shimakaze could be so damn calm while talking about these things that were so mind-breaking that Willie's soul wanted to scream just hearing them uttered out loud oh GOD-
"But it doesn't really matter, and I'm getting off-topic." Shimakaze waved her hand to brush the subject off. "In short: you were made, had an embarrassing start, started to do pretty well for yourself, got sunk-" Willie flinched sharply, "-and then you came back. And despite a few embarrassing incidents-"
"A few?" Willie muttered bitterly.
"-You did really good on your first action, and everyone knows it," Shimakaze went on, not hearing Willie. "So, like... the past is history, to hell with it, live in the present." Shimakaze ticked the points off on her fingers.
Willie blinked at her counterpart's words. "...You think I did good?"
"Yeah, good job," Shimakaze nodded. "I mean, I got sunk too, you know? But now I'm here, and there's a lot of cool stuff to do. So who cares?"
Willie wiped her remaining tears away, thinking. "I don't get you," she admitted at last. "I mean, sometimes I wonder if you're even here, and then you go and say stuff like that, you know?"
Shimakaze tilted her head. "Of course I'm here. I'm sitting right next to you, you can see me." Willie just groaned in response. The Japanese destroyer gazed at her for a moment. "As for getting me, well, here's what I think." She started ticking points off on her fingers. "Going fast is awesome. Torpedoes are great. Armor is for losers. There you go. I mean, what more do you need?"
William D. Porter winced. "I really don't think that armor is for losers, Shimakaze."
"It slows you down. Just don't get hit. That's what speed is for." The blonde destroyer nodded, pleased at her own wisdom. Willie just groaned again.
The two sat in silence for a bit, with Shimakaze staring silently at the American destroyer, who fidgeted at the attention. After a moment, Willie spoke up. "So... how did you come back?"
"Well..." Shimakaze stared off into the distance, thinking. "I remember sailing. Then I got sunk. Everything was dark and cold and kinda ticklish, then I could hear something in the distance. Next thing I know, I'm staggering onto the beach." She frowned. "The first thing I remember thinking was 'why do I have legs?' Things were kinda weird, you know what I mean?"
Willie nodded in response, rapt. She remembered the confusion of her own return all too well. Not to mention the embarrassment.
"Anyway, they found me pretty fast, and then I was sitting in Admiral Goto's office, learning about the internet, trying to figure out what had happened while he was giving me the short version all calm-like, you know?" Shimakaze shrugged. "I was lost and confused. I didn't know what I was, why I was... anything. For a moment, I was kind of scared." A sigh escaped her lips.
"Yeah," Willie breathed, moving closer. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean."
"And then, came the fateful moment," Shimakaze turned to Willie, eyes glittering, "When I learned about rocket engines."
Willie blinked. "Rocket engines?"
"Rocket engines," Shimakaze agreed. She raised her hands to illustrate. "They go FAST."
"Fast," Willie echoed dully.
"REALLY fast," Shimakaze nodded feverishly. "And it was then that I knew my destiny. And everything became clear." She mused over it for a moment. "It's so simple. I really don't know why all of the other ships agonize over this stuff. I mean, who cares?"
"...And your destiny involves rocket engines?" Willie asked desperately, feeling like she was being tossed in a storm.
"It's a brave new world, full of new discoveries," Shimakaze said with barely-restrained excitement. "All kinds of new technology, all kinds of ways to go really, really fast. And I mean like, super fast! Zoom!" She gestured to emphasize. "How can I not be a part of it? After all, Japanese engineering is nothing if not innovative and cutting-edge. Just look at all the stuff our navy did!"
"Uh..." Willie stuttered, trying not to look Shimakaze in the eye.
"So yeah, good talk," the Japanese destroyer patted Willie on the knee. "Feel better?"
"...Rocket engines?" Willie asked again, very faintly.
"As soon as my requisitions get approved," Shimakaze nodded. "So like I was saying, feel better now?"
"H-huh? Um..." Willie was surprised to realize that she did. "I kinda do, yeah."
"I'm glad," Shimakaze said with a warm smile. "You're so much cuter when you smile."
"E-eh?!" Willie squeaked, covering her blushing face with both hands.
"Totally. Anyway, put on this outfit and we can start training." Cheerfully, Shimakaze offered her the costume. Willie just stared at it in all-consuming horror, face flushing even redder than before.
"R-r-r-right here?!" she squealed.
Shimakaze tilted her head. "Of course not. That would be unprofessional. And silly. Just change in a bathroom." She nudged the outfit closer.
Willie stared at it for a long moment, hesitating. Then she took a deep breath and screwed up her courage. "Shimakaze... thank you for being a friend. But I can't wear this clothing."
"Hm?" Shimakaze looked at Willie curiously. "Sure you can, it'd totally fit."
"I-I mean!" Willie took another deep breath, then looked her friend in the eye. "I-I'm sorry! But I honestly think that wearing this outfit is... k-kinda inappropriate!" Her hand slapped over her mouth as she realized that she had just insulted Shimakaze's choice in clothing.
Shimakaze just stared blankly at Willie. At the set of clothing. At Willie again. Her expression turned mournful. "You're right."
Willie started, her hands coming away from her mouth. "Eh?"
Shimakaze stood up and bowed deeply. "Willie, I apologize. I see now why you were so hesitant to wear this clothing. It's so obvious to me now. I am deeply sorry for not acknowledging your feelings on the matter. Please forgive me."
"O-oh no! Please don't apologize!" Willie stammered, scrambling to her feet. "I-I mean, you meant it as a gift, and I really appreciate that!"
Shimakaze straightened up, first clenched and face set with determination. "It's obvious that the bathing suit needs to have an American flag pattern!"
Willie's gut felt like it plummeted onto the pavement with all of the force of a depth-charge. "...what..." she whimpered, very weakly.
Shimakaze rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Naturally, a proud American destroyer would have a strong sense of patriotism. How fitting. I've heard of proud American women wearing their own flag in such a display of national pride. To think I was so foolish as to miss this! Very well, then." Nodding to herself, the Japanese destroyer looked at Willie. "Forget about the outfit for today, then. As soon as I can find an appropriate swimsuit, then we can change up your outfit. And I won't take no for an answer!" She added firmly. "This is a gift from me to you, and there is no need to be embarrassed about receiving it!"
Willie wondered just how wrong someone could possibly be about that last part. She felt like Shimakaze was breaking new ground here.
"Anyway, forget it for now. Let's go to practice. We must be professional about keeping up our skills after all." Taking Willie by the wrist, she began to lead them both to the practice range.
Willie just moaned with despair, and wondered how she would be able to maintain what tiny scraps of dignity she had left.
Shimakaze blinked slowly. "Okay, try that again." She was at the firing range with her new American friend, and things were going... oddly.
William D. Porter, her eyes obscured by a blindfold, opened fire downrange. Before Shimakaze's confused eyes, every single shot hit home with astounding precision that... sort of made her jealous, really.
Slowly, she reached over and lifted the blindfold, letting Willie see again. "And now?" With a sigh, Willie fired again, this time with much less success. Honestly, Shimakaze didn't know how it was possible to be THAT inaccurate.
"Okay," the Japanese destroyer said after a moment's contemplation. "I think I see the problem. You're obviously tensing up whenever you try to focus on your shots. The key here is-"
"Whatever," Willie muttered darkly, already walking away, her hands limp at her sides.
Shimakaze blinked in surprise at Willie's sudden departure, quickly racing after her. "Willie, you shouldn't just walk away like that. There's no way you'll get better unless-"
"Do you th-think I d-don't know that?!" Willie shot back, whirling on Shimakaze in anger. Her face was flushed with humiliation, her eyes damp with tears ready to be shed. "D-do you really th-think that you're the first person to say all that stuff? I hear it o-over a-and over but it doesn't change a thing! I'm just no good at any of this!"
There was a moment of stunned silence. Shimakaze stood slack-jawed, baffled at Willie's outburst. "Uh," she finally managed.
Willie sniffled, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I know you're trying to help. B-but you just can't okay? S-so quit telling me to do the the same stupid things over a-and over. I'm leaving now." Shoulders slumped, Willie walked away morosely, leaving Shimakaze with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Some time later, the blonde destroyer was slowly walking through the streets of Yokosuka, replaying her encounter with Willie. For the life of her, Shimakaze couldn't figure out just what she had done wrong. For the last couple of days, it had been the exact same thing: Willie just kept locking up at the range and doing worse and worse, when she clearly had the talent to do better. And as much as Shimakaze tried to offer advice, that only seemed to make Willie angry at her.
She heaved a sad sigh. Maybe she was just a terrible friend.
"Hey! Slutboat!"
Distantly, Shimakaze wondered who the 'slutboat' was. Possibly I-19? That submarine was really so unprofessional...
"I'm talking to you, blondie!"
This brought her up short. She was blonde. Was someone talking to her? Curious, the destroyer turned around to see a tiny girl in a military uniform with an adorable set of red pigtails. Said girl was scowling even more adorably up at Shimakaze. "What's the matter? Got bad hearing?" the newcomer spat out.
"No, it's fine," Shimakaze replied.
There was a moment of silence.
Realizing that this was all the response she was going to get, the red-headed girl (Samuel B. Roberts, Shimakaze recognized her now), pressed on. "Never mind. I've seen you hanging around Willie, nipboat. What's that all about?"
Shimakaze sighed. "I've been trying to help her with her gunnery, but I'm not doing a very good job. Willie just keeps tensing up and fouling her shots. I wish I could help her, but-"
Sammy cut out. "Oh wow," she said flatly. "A Nip ship can't teach somebody to do something right. Stop the presses, what a big fucking surprise."
Shimakaze came up short at this, the disdain and sarcasm managing to get through to her. "I beg your pardon?"
"I'm saying there's no way in hell one of you yellow bastards could ever teach one of us something we don't already know," Sammy snorted. "I mean, that would mean you could do something right yourselves in the first place, and everyone knows that's bullshit."
Shimakaze stared at Sammy, who gazed back at her, a superior smirk crossing the redhead's face. Her expression said 'yeah. I said that, wanna make something of it?'
"You're Samuel B. Roberts, the destroyer escort, right?" Shimakaze said slowly.
"Yeah, that's me," Sammy replied easily.
"You're a jerk," Shimakaze said flatly. "And you're slow, so you don't interest me. Goodbye." Spinning on her heel, the destroyer walked away from the smaller ship, an expression of shock on Sammy's face.
Now, what was she thinking about? Right, Willie. What was she doing wrong there? More than anything, Shimakaze just wanted to be a good friend -
"Hey! I'm not done with you!"
- to her American counterpart. But so far, everything -
"I said get back here!"
- she tried just ended in failure. And now she had hurt Willie's feelings, to boot.
"GODDAMMIT DON'T YOU FUCKING IGNORE ME!"
Well, Shimakaze had never been to good at this sort of thing. But then, they were all now much more than engineering diagrams -
"Hmp!"
- and she might need to consider the mind and spirit behind such things, not just the science. But wasn't she just distancing herself emotionally from what had just happened? Ugh, this was a toughie.
This is when a concrete bench went flying past Shimakaze's head and shattered to pieces on the sidewalk in front of her.
Uh.
After taking a moment to realize that yes, that had indeed just happened, Shimakaze turned, eyes wide, in the direction from whence the flying piece of furniture had come. What she laid eyes on was Sammy, standing next to cracked stone work where she had apparently uprooted the entire bench. The Destroyer Escort was red in the face, breathing heavily, and... smiling.
Smiling, with a lips spread much too wide on her face, and a psychotic gleam in her eye. The mad giggle issuing forth really didn't do much to reassure Shimakaze, either.
"Are you fucking ignoring me? Sammy asked quietly, giggling a little bit more.
"...Yes?" Shimakaze tried, feeling a touch nervous. That smile really didn't portend anything good.
"Thought so." Slowly, carefully, Sammy walked up to the increasingly nervous destroyer.
Shimakaze cleared her throat, which was feeling quite dry for some reason. "You know, as a destroyer I completely outmass and outgun you." Sammy's response was to give Shimakaze a sweet smile. Then she launched a roundhouse punch at Shimakaze's head. With a surprised shriek, the blonde destroyer jerked her head back just in time as the punch slammed into the wall next to them.
Through the wall, actually.
Eyes wide, Shimakaze stared at Sammy's arm, which had disappeared up to the wrist in solid brick. Slowly, still smiling a wide, manic smile, the DE pulled her arm back out, leaving a surprisingly smooth gap in the the brickwork. Shimakaze stared at the hole for a long moment. Stared at Sammy's insane eyes for a moment longer. Did a few mental calculations involving the likely force of the blow and the sheer killing intent radiating off the Destroyer Escort. The result was a rather unpleasant mental image involving Sammy driving her arm clean through Shimakaze's chest while laughing maniacally, blood dripping on the ground, her hanging limply, and did she mention the maniacal laughter why was the little girl smiling like that, how was the smile getting even bigger, oh GOD.
The mental image went sailing into her brain, bashing aside clutter, awakening all of the sleepy bits, and delivering a a very clear message to crew and command staff alike: THIS GIRL IS ABOUT TO WRECK YOUR SHIT.
"Oh crap," Shimakaze said weakly.
"I bet you are," Sammy giggled, eyebrow twitching.
"May I have a moment to make an important note?" the Japanese Destroyer asked, an unfamiliar frantic feeling blossoming in her chest.
"Take your time~!" Sammy sang back.
With fumbling fingers, Shimakaze dug out her notepad, where she kept all of her most important revelations. She pulled out a pen and muttered out loud as she scratched out a vital note. "Armor is not, in fact, for losers."
"Hey! You're learning!" Sammy cheered. "Now it's time for you to take a trip!"
Shimakaze glanced up. "To where?"
"The emergency ward, bitch!" And then Sammy pounced, fist flying forward.
And Shimakaze, for the first time in her life, screamed, launching herself backward from the tiny terror of a DE.
"NO ESCAPING, BITCHBOAT! IGNORE THIS SHIT!" Cackling madly, Sammy rushed forward, fists flying, and it was all Shimakaze could do to keep back as the crazy little boat just kept coming and coming and oh GOD why was she so fast, holy CRAP was she actually that strong-
Oh shit.
Shimakaze realized that she was about to get her ass kicked by a girl about half her displacement.
"NOW. LET'S. SEE. YOU. IGNORE. THIS. YOU. FUCKING. NIP. TART." Sammy roared gleefully, fists flying in time with her words. Shimakaze could only backpedal furiously, arms flailing as she struggled to keep herself balanced, belatedly realizing that she was yelping wildly, desperately trying to keep ahead of the ferocious little girl in front of her.
Oh crap, this was gonna hurt. The little girl just kept coming, and Shimakaze could only keep dodging, frantically trying to keep from getting hit, and Sammy's fists kept falling just short of her, and...
...actually...
...Sammy actually did just keep falling short.
"Fucking hold still, you bitch!" Sammy shouted, her face twisted in frustration.
The odd sight developed of Shimakaze prancing backwards, wide-eyed, while Sammy kept rushing forward, trying to land a blow. After a moment, Shimakaze folded her hands behind her head, still skipping backwards, the DE's blows coming within inches of her.
"...I think I'm still too fast for you."
"Fuck you!"
"This is kinda good exercise, come to think of it."
"Shut up!"
"You're kinda cute when you're mad," Shimakaze giggled.
"Oh, I am going to KILL YOU so DEAD-"
"Gotta catch me first," Shimakaze laughed merrily, spinning around, and breaking into a run.
"OH GET YOUR FUCKING ASS BACK HERE!"
The blonde destroyer giggled herself. Honestly, this was kind of fun! And you know, dealing with Sammy made her wonder. Maybe the problem was more with herself? Maybe Shimakaze needed to be more sensitive to other people's feelings, instead of just tossing labels that made sense to her on everything. Lost in thought, she waved cheerfully to a passing ensign on a bicycle, who looked back in bafflement.
Like that, right there! Obviously, the guy was wondering just why a shipgirl was happily jogging through the base while another shipgirl was chasing after her in a murderous rage. Seen in that light, a little confusion was obvious. Huh, maybe it wasn't so hard to figure people out after all...
A startled yelp and a crash caused Shimakaze to glance back over her shoulder. She saw the young ensign now face-first in a shrubberry. She also saw Sammy on his bike, pumping her legs like mad, now gaining on Shimakaze.
...Oh, crap.
Maybe she was getting her ass kicked after all.
Sammy pulled up alongside Shimakaze, smiling cutely. "Hiya~!"
"...Hi," Shimakaze said carefully, feeling that nervousness again.
"I'ma wrap this thing around your neck," Sammy commented, patting the bike affectionately.
"I was afraid of that," Shimakaze gulped.
"C'mere," The DE leered reaching out. All of a sudden, there was a creak of stressed metal, and Sammy yelped, struggling to keep her balance. And, Shimakaze noticed, having a bit of trouble operating a bike way too large for her.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Sammy muttered, reaching out for Shimakaze again, only to yank her hand back with another yelp. After a moment, Shimakaze worked out the conundrum. Sammy was trying to maintain the strength to keep up with, and clobber, Shimakaze. Shifting her body to gain the strength meant more weight than the bike could handle, so she had to shift back. Combined with legs much to small for her ride, well...
The end result was actually somewhat comical. Like a rabid grizzly bear on a unicycle.
Shimakaze jogged along awkwardly for a while, as a cursing Sammy tried to maintain control of her bicycle. "...Nice day," she finally commented.
"Fuck yourself," Sammy grunted.
"That's very foul language," Shimakaze chided.
"Eat a dick," Sammy spat.
The Japanese Destroyer smiled. This was kind of fun. "You're cute, you know that?"
"Bitch I will MURDER YOU."
Shimakaze giggled. "If you can catch me~"
"THEY WILL NEVER FIND YOUR BODY."
"Don't be so slow~"
"I WILL FIND OUT WHERE YOU LIVE AND COME AT YOU WHILE YOU SLEEP."
"You're too young for such thoughts."
"HATE. YOU."
Shimakaze laughed gaily, jogging along while her new companion screamed in impotent rage, desperately trying to avoid tipping over. This day was turning out nice after all. She had made a new friend!
"I FUCKING HATE YOU YOU STUPID NIPBOAT."
William D. Porter, her eyes obscured by a blindfold, opened fire downrange. Before Shimakaze's confused eyes, every single shot hit home with astounding precision that... sort of made her jealous, really.
Slowly, she reached over and lifted the blindfold, letting Willie see again. "And now?" With a sigh, Willie fired again, this time with much less success. Honestly, Shimakaze didn't know how it was possible to be THAT inaccurate.
"Okay," the Japanese destroyer said after a moment's contemplation. "I think I see the problem. You're obviously tensing up whenever you try to focus on your shots. The key here is-"
"Whatever," Willie muttered darkly, already walking away, her hands limp at her sides.
Shimakaze blinked in surprise at Willie's sudden departure, quickly racing after her. "Willie, you shouldn't just walk away like that. There's no way you'll get better unless-"
"Do you th-think I d-don't know that?!" Willie shot back, whirling on Shimakaze in anger. Her face was flushed with humiliation, her eyes damp with tears ready to be shed. "D-do you really th-think that you're the first person to say all that stuff? I hear it o-over a-and over but it doesn't change a thing! I'm just no good at any of this!"
There was a moment of stunned silence. Shimakaze stood slack-jawed, baffled at Willie's outburst. "Uh," she finally managed.
Willie sniffled, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I know you're trying to help. B-but you just can't okay? S-so quit telling me to do the the same stupid things over a-and over. I'm leaving now." Shoulders slumped, Willie walked away morosely, leaving Shimakaze with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Some time later, the blonde destroyer was slowly walking through the streets of Yokosuka, replaying her encounter with Willie. For the life of her, Shimakaze couldn't figure out just what she had done wrong. For the last couple of days, it had been the exact same thing: Willie just kept locking up at the range and doing worse and worse, when she clearly had the talent to do better. And as much as Shimakaze tried to offer advice, that only seemed to make Willie angry at her.
She heaved a sad sigh. Maybe she was just a terrible friend.
"Hey! Slutboat!"
Distantly, Shimakaze wondered who the 'slutboat' was. Possibly I-19? That submarine was really so unprofessional...
"I'm talking to you, blondie!"
This brought her up short. She was blonde. Was someone talking to her? Curious, the destroyer turned around to see a tiny girl in a military uniform with an adorable set of red pigtails. Said girl was scowling even more adorably up at Shimakaze. "What's the matter? Got bad hearing?" the newcomer spat out.
"No, it's fine," Shimakaze replied.
There was a moment of silence.
Realizing that this was all the response she was going to get, the red-headed girl (Samuel B. Roberts, Shimakaze recognized her now), pressed on. "Never mind. I've seen you hanging around Willie, nipboat. What's that all about?"
Shimakaze sighed. "I've been trying to help her with her gunnery, but I'm not doing a very good job. Willie just keeps tensing up and fouling her shots. I wish I could help her, but-"
Sammy cut out. "Oh wow," she said flatly. "A Nip ship can't teach somebody to do something right. Stop the presses, what a big fucking surprise."
Shimakaze came up short at this, the disdain and sarcasm managing to get through to her. "I beg your pardon?"
"I'm saying there's no way in hell one of you yellow bastards could ever teach one of us something we don't already know," Sammy snorted. "I mean, that would mean you could do something right yourselves in the first place, and everyone knows that's bullshit."
Shimakaze stared at Sammy, who gazed back at her, a superior smirk crossing the redhead's face. Her expression said 'yeah. I said that, wanna make something of it?'
"You're Samuel B. Roberts, the destroyer escort, right?" Shimakaze said slowly.
"Yeah, that's me," Sammy replied easily.
"You're a jerk," Shimakaze said flatly. "And you're slow, so you don't interest me. Goodbye." Spinning on her heel, the destroyer walked away from the smaller ship, an expression of shock on Sammy's face.
Now, what was she thinking about? Right, Willie. What was she doing wrong there? More than anything, Shimakaze just wanted to be a good friend -
"Hey! I'm not done with you!"
- to her American counterpart. But so far, everything -
"I said get back here!"
- she tried just ended in failure. And now she had hurt Willie's feelings, to boot.
"GODDAMMIT DON'T YOU FUCKING IGNORE ME!"
Well, Shimakaze had never been to good at this sort of thing. But then, they were all now much more than engineering diagrams -
"Hmp!"
- and she might need to consider the mind and spirit behind such things, not just the science. But wasn't she just distancing herself emotionally from what had just happened? Ugh, this was a toughie.
This is when a concrete bench went flying past Shimakaze's head and shattered to pieces on the sidewalk in front of her.
Uh.
After taking a moment to realize that yes, that had indeed just happened, Shimakaze turned, eyes wide, in the direction from whence the flying piece of furniture had come. What she laid eyes on was Sammy, standing next to cracked stone work where she had apparently uprooted the entire bench. The Destroyer Escort was red in the face, breathing heavily, and... smiling.
Smiling, with a lips spread much too wide on her face, and a psychotic gleam in her eye. The mad giggle issuing forth really didn't do much to reassure Shimakaze, either.
"Are you fucking ignoring me? Sammy asked quietly, giggling a little bit more.
"...Yes?" Shimakaze tried, feeling a touch nervous. That smile really didn't portend anything good.
"Thought so." Slowly, carefully, Sammy walked up to the increasingly nervous destroyer.
Shimakaze cleared her throat, which was feeling quite dry for some reason. "You know, as a destroyer I completely outmass and outgun you." Sammy's response was to give Shimakaze a sweet smile. Then she launched a roundhouse punch at Shimakaze's head. With a surprised shriek, the blonde destroyer jerked her head back just in time as the punch slammed into the wall next to them.
Through the wall, actually.
Eyes wide, Shimakaze stared at Sammy's arm, which had disappeared up to the wrist in solid brick. Slowly, still smiling a wide, manic smile, the DE pulled her arm back out, leaving a surprisingly smooth gap in the the brickwork. Shimakaze stared at the hole for a long moment. Stared at Sammy's insane eyes for a moment longer. Did a few mental calculations involving the likely force of the blow and the sheer killing intent radiating off the Destroyer Escort. The result was a rather unpleasant mental image involving Sammy driving her arm clean through Shimakaze's chest while laughing maniacally, blood dripping on the ground, her hanging limply, and did she mention the maniacal laughter why was the little girl smiling like that, how was the smile getting even bigger, oh GOD.
The mental image went sailing into her brain, bashing aside clutter, awakening all of the sleepy bits, and delivering a a very clear message to crew and command staff alike: THIS GIRL IS ABOUT TO WRECK YOUR SHIT.
"Oh crap," Shimakaze said weakly.
"I bet you are," Sammy giggled, eyebrow twitching.
"May I have a moment to make an important note?" the Japanese Destroyer asked, an unfamiliar frantic feeling blossoming in her chest.
"Take your time~!" Sammy sang back.
With fumbling fingers, Shimakaze dug out her notepad, where she kept all of her most important revelations. She pulled out a pen and muttered out loud as she scratched out a vital note. "Armor is not, in fact, for losers."
"Hey! You're learning!" Sammy cheered. "Now it's time for you to take a trip!"
Shimakaze glanced up. "To where?"
"The emergency ward, bitch!" And then Sammy pounced, fist flying forward.
And Shimakaze, for the first time in her life, screamed, launching herself backward from the tiny terror of a DE.
"NO ESCAPING, BITCHBOAT! IGNORE THIS SHIT!" Cackling madly, Sammy rushed forward, fists flying, and it was all Shimakaze could do to keep back as the crazy little boat just kept coming and coming and oh GOD why was she so fast, holy CRAP was she actually that strong-
Oh shit.
Shimakaze realized that she was about to get her ass kicked by a girl about half her displacement.
"NOW. LET'S. SEE. YOU. IGNORE. THIS. YOU. FUCKING. NIP. TART." Sammy roared gleefully, fists flying in time with her words. Shimakaze could only backpedal furiously, arms flailing as she struggled to keep herself balanced, belatedly realizing that she was yelping wildly, desperately trying to keep ahead of the ferocious little girl in front of her.
Oh crap, this was gonna hurt. The little girl just kept coming, and Shimakaze could only keep dodging, frantically trying to keep from getting hit, and Sammy's fists kept falling just short of her, and...
...actually...
...Sammy actually did just keep falling short.
"Fucking hold still, you bitch!" Sammy shouted, her face twisted in frustration.
The odd sight developed of Shimakaze prancing backwards, wide-eyed, while Sammy kept rushing forward, trying to land a blow. After a moment, Shimakaze folded her hands behind her head, still skipping backwards, the DE's blows coming within inches of her.
"...I think I'm still too fast for you."
"Fuck you!"
"This is kinda good exercise, come to think of it."
"Shut up!"
"You're kinda cute when you're mad," Shimakaze giggled.
"Oh, I am going to KILL YOU so DEAD-"
"Gotta catch me first," Shimakaze laughed merrily, spinning around, and breaking into a run.
"OH GET YOUR FUCKING ASS BACK HERE!"
The blonde destroyer giggled herself. Honestly, this was kind of fun! And you know, dealing with Sammy made her wonder. Maybe the problem was more with herself? Maybe Shimakaze needed to be more sensitive to other people's feelings, instead of just tossing labels that made sense to her on everything. Lost in thought, she waved cheerfully to a passing ensign on a bicycle, who looked back in bafflement.
Like that, right there! Obviously, the guy was wondering just why a shipgirl was happily jogging through the base while another shipgirl was chasing after her in a murderous rage. Seen in that light, a little confusion was obvious. Huh, maybe it wasn't so hard to figure people out after all...
A startled yelp and a crash caused Shimakaze to glance back over her shoulder. She saw the young ensign now face-first in a shrubberry. She also saw Sammy on his bike, pumping her legs like mad, now gaining on Shimakaze.
...Oh, crap.
Maybe she was getting her ass kicked after all.
Sammy pulled up alongside Shimakaze, smiling cutely. "Hiya~!"
"...Hi," Shimakaze said carefully, feeling that nervousness again.
"I'ma wrap this thing around your neck," Sammy commented, patting the bike affectionately.
"I was afraid of that," Shimakaze gulped.
"C'mere," The DE leered reaching out. All of a sudden, there was a creak of stressed metal, and Sammy yelped, struggling to keep her balance. And, Shimakaze noticed, having a bit of trouble operating a bike way too large for her.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Sammy muttered, reaching out for Shimakaze again, only to yank her hand back with another yelp. After a moment, Shimakaze worked out the conundrum. Sammy was trying to maintain the strength to keep up with, and clobber, Shimakaze. Shifting her body to gain the strength meant more weight than the bike could handle, so she had to shift back. Combined with legs much to small for her ride, well...
The end result was actually somewhat comical. Like a rabid grizzly bear on a unicycle.
Shimakaze jogged along awkwardly for a while, as a cursing Sammy tried to maintain control of her bicycle. "...Nice day," she finally commented.
"Fuck yourself," Sammy grunted.
"That's very foul language," Shimakaze chided.
"Eat a dick," Sammy spat.
The Japanese Destroyer smiled. This was kind of fun. "You're cute, you know that?"
"Bitch I will MURDER YOU."
Shimakaze giggled. "If you can catch me~"
"THEY WILL NEVER FIND YOUR BODY."
"Don't be so slow~"
"I WILL FIND OUT WHERE YOU LIVE AND COME AT YOU WHILE YOU SLEEP."
"You're too young for such thoughts."
"HATE. YOU."
Shimakaze laughed gaily, jogging along while her new companion screamed in impotent rage, desperately trying to avoid tipping over. This day was turning out nice after all. She had made a new friend!
"I FUCKING HATE YOU YOU STUPID NIPBOAT."
Shimakaze stood silent at the docks of Yokosuka Naval Base, gazing out into the endless pacific waters. A feeling of deep emptiness permeated her. Of promises broken. Of dreams crushed. Of one's zest for life, extinguished.
She looked down at the sheaf of papers held in her hand. Papers containing her heart and soul, her next-generation designs for shipgirls, which held all the promise of an exciting new era. An era wherein no frontier was forbidden them, no enemy could stand before them.
Across each of of these forms was written the same word, in bright red ink:
REJECTED.
There was a note attached to each of them. Bureaucratese, for the most part. Citing nonsense like a lack available manpower, shortage of monetary and physical resources, violations of physical laws, and so on. It's like these people had no sense of adventure, of creativity. One note even worriedly asked if Shimakaze had gotten into some manner of narcotic. As if she, a proud Destroyer, would fall so low as to consume such filth!
Besides, how the hell was a pot classified as a narcotic? Was she supposed to eat it?
Shaking her head, Shimakaze was momentarily startled by the feeling of... emptiness within her. She'd failed as a friend to Willie. She'd failed to show the world the brilliance of her own designs. Plus, the new Admiral was being a jerkass about her fitout, for some odd reason. There was a part of her that wanted to just... give up on all of this. On the disappointment and heartbreak. To just let go and tear this vile place to ribbons...
Except, of course, throwing a super-powered temper tantrum like that would be utterly retarded. After all, she wasn't some sort of child.
With a sigh, Shimakaze tucked the sheaf of rejected project designs under her arm and made her way towards the dorms. Frankly, she felt like sulking. Sure, it wasn't the most mature of reactions, but screw it. After seeing all of her hard work literally written off by the stroke of a pen (or stamper, or whatever), the blonde Destroyer felt that she was entitled to a good bit of pouting in her room. Seriously, screw those guys. They just didn't appreciate genius when they saw it.
After a bit of walking in the hot sun, which served only to further sour her mood, Shimakaze stepped off the path and into the greenery, tossing herself to the ground and leaning against a tree. The hell with it, today sucked. She could have a perfectly good pout right here. Sighing heavily, the Japanese Destroyer looked up at the leaves and tried to figure out just how things could have gone so wrong.
"...Shimakaze?"
Jarred out of her sulk, the Destroyer looked up at the familiar figure of William D. Porter, who was gazing down at her with a look of concern. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"Nope," Shimakaze immediately replied.
"Oh." Willie fidgeted a bit. "Uh, what's wrong?"
"Today sucks," came the flat reply.
"O-okay," Willie stuttered, looking a bit uncomfortable. "W-what happened, exactly?"
Shimakaze looked up at Willie blearily, before handing her the sheaf of papers. "This happened."
The American Destroyer took the sheets and flipped through them. "Rejected," she read out loud. Then her eyes widened. "W-wait! Aren't these your-"
"Yep," Shimakaze sighed. "Those are my project proposals. My 'rejected' project proposals. Every last one of them." She raised a hand to her forehead, trying to rub away the frustration.
"Oh..." there was honest sympathy in Willie's voice as she sat down next to Shimakaze. "I'm really sorry to hear that. I know you were working hard."
Shimakaze felt a pang of regret in her heart, that only got worse when she turned her head to see Willie's compassionate gaze. "...It's okay, Willie," she said sadly. "You don't have to be here. I know I'm a crappy friend."
The American destroyer stared in shock. "What...?" she said weakly.
Shimakaze sighed. "I couldn't help you. All I did was make you mad at me. You don't even trust my advice when it comes to fitouts, not that I can blame you."
"Er, uh, w-well, I think you have the wrong, I mean..." Willie, deeply flustered, gestured wildly with her hands, trying to convey a point that just wasn't coming.
"It's fine, Willie," Shimakaze repeated herself. "I'm just a bad friend. You don't have to-" her words were cut off when Willie seized Shimakaze and started shaking her frantically.
"S-STOP SAYING THAT!" the American Destroyer wailed."Wh-why are you saying that, th-that's so stupid, y-you're a great friend, this isn't like you, what's gotten into you?!"
"Willie... Stop..." Shimakaze choked out. "You're... giving me... whiplash."
"EEP!" Willie squeaked, releasing Shimakaze. "S-sorry!" She wrung her hands, looking at the noticeably frazzled blonde. "Um, are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Shimakaze assured her, rubbing her neck a bit. "You have a heck of a grip, you know that?"
"I- I'M SOWWY!" Willie wailed again.
"Eh, I'm tough, no worries," Shimakaze assured her. She frowned. "Though recent events have convinced me that armor is kinda a good thing."
"...Sammy?"
"Uh-huh."
"Eep."
"Yep."
Willie peered at her friend, looking unhappy. "I don't like seeing you so depressed. It's so unlike you." She shifted a bit closer, genuinely concerned.
Shimakaze managed a smile. "I'll be fine. Today just really sucks, that's all." The blonde Destroyer wrapped her arms around her knees and plopped her chin down on top, blowing out her cheeks.
Willie blinked as something occurred to her. "...Are you pouting?"
"I'm not pouting," Shimakaze pouted. "You are."
Willie poked one of the blondes cheeks.
"Shtop it," Shimakaze grunted.
"Stop pouting first."
"No."
Poke.
"Stop it."
Willie giggled. "You're kinda cute when you're like this."
Shimakaze sniffed. "Jerk." Willie giggled again, and the two fell into a companionable silence.
"...Hey, Shimakaze?" Willie said hesitantly.
"Hm?" The blonde destroyer looked over at her friend, who was fidgeting nervously.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I got frustrated and... well, you were just trying to help me. But please don't say you're a bad friend, okay? You're not. You just, uh..." Willie struggled for the words. "You have a different design philosphy when it comes to fitouts, or something...?" she finished up lamely.
Shimakaze chuckled. "Yeah, I was being dumb, huh? Sorry. Like I said, today just kinda sucked, is all. But um, I'd like to keep practicing with you. Maybe it'll help, just a bit?"
Willie smiled shyly. "I'd like that, thanks."
Feeling a bit better, Shimakaze turned her attention to the grass blowing in the breeze. "Kinda wish that all of my proposals weren't rejected, though."
"Um." Willie glanced around awkwardly. "I think that some of them were a little too... extreme? Like..." She started sorting through the files. "Like, caterpillar treads for battleships?" Her voice betrayed extreme bafflement.
"Sure. I mean, it was proposed in the past, you know?"
Willie hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Well, that sounds like a lot of work, and um, we only have so many resources, I think?"
Shimakaze thought about it. "Well, maybe that and the jet propulsion with wings were a little extreme."
"Maybe a little," Willie allowed weakly. "Um, maybe you should focus on stuff that's a bit more manageable? Like, improved gunnery and stuff?"
"But that stuff's booooooring," Shimakaze moaned, thumping her head back against the tree. Willie giggled again in response. The blonde Destroyer just heaved a sigh, considering.
After a moment of thought, Willie hesitantly reached out and place her hand on top of Shimakaze's head. Then she gently started to rub. For her part, Shimakaze kept still, letting Willie pet her. Unconsciously, she began to lean into the head-pat. Cracking an eye open, the Japanese Destroyer couldn't help but note that her American friend seemed quite pleased with the situation. Well, two could play at that game. With speed and decisiveness, Shimakaze's hand shot out, Willie squeaking in surprise, and began to pat the American Destroyer's head.
For a moment, the two just sat there, locked in mutual head-pats. Then they burst into laughter. Shimakaze chuckled uncontrollably, letting the irritation of the day simply fade away. Willie giggled so hard, her braid bouncing in time, that her hat actually fell off of her head. "Aw!" She complained.
Smirking with a sudden idea, Shimakaze snatched up the hat before Willie could pick it up. With a few deft movements, the Japanese Destroyer undid her hair ribbon, finding a new home for it on Willie's head. Then she plopped the American's hat onto her own blonde locks. The two Destroyers took a good long look at each other's new fashion.
"Nah," they said simultaneously, and burst into laughter again.
Their headwear returned to the proper owners, the Destroyers got to their feet and headed for the dorms. "Hey, Willie?" Shimakaze said slowly.
"Yes?" Willie replied, looked cheerful.
"Well, I'm getting the impression that you don't want to wear the new training outfit for some reason. You know, the one Yuudachi picked out."
"Uh..." Willie looked a bit nervous, remembering the rather... abbreviated shorts and t-shirt the blonde had found her her.
"Which is fine, that's your call," Shimakaze rushed to assure her. "Even if it would make you so much faster! But uh, what I mean is, it's about Yuudachi." She shrugged. "You see, she worked really hard to pick out that outfit, and then you didn't put it on, and she got awfully disappointed. And with all of that... stuff going on with Shigure, she's been awfully down, you know? So would you mind modeling it for her? If nothing else? I really think that it would cheer her up."
Willie went very quiet, face already turning a bright red. For a moment, Shimakaze thought that her friend wouldn't respond, until, gurgling uncomfortably a little bit, Willie gave a stiff nod. "I'm not leaving my room, okay?" she said weakly.
"That's fine!" Shimakaze said enthusiastically, "I'm sure she'll appreciate it!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Thirty minutes later, William D. Porter refused to leave her closet.
"NOOOOOOOO!" she wailed.
"Willie, come on out!" Shimakaze laughed, shaking her head at her friend's behavior.
"It totally looked really good on you, poi!" Yuudachi enthused, eyes bright.
"NOOOOOOOO!"
"Like, you were totally really cute, poi! You and Shimakaze could totally pass as sisters, poi!"
"NOOOOOOOO!"
"Uh, Willie, how long do you plan to stay in there?" Shimakaze asked carefully.
"NOOOOOOOO!" It seemed to be all that Willie could say.
Yuudachi pouted a little bit. "Aw. She looked so cute, too, poi. Like, I wanted to show her new outfit off to Shigure, you know what I mean, poi?"
Shimakaze nodded. "And did you see how fast she ran into the closet? She really is faster in that outfit!"
"NOOOOOOOO!"
The two Japanese destroyers shrugged, After all, Willie had to come out of there eventually.
"NOOOOOOOO!"
She looked down at the sheaf of papers held in her hand. Papers containing her heart and soul, her next-generation designs for shipgirls, which held all the promise of an exciting new era. An era wherein no frontier was forbidden them, no enemy could stand before them.
Across each of of these forms was written the same word, in bright red ink:
REJECTED.
There was a note attached to each of them. Bureaucratese, for the most part. Citing nonsense like a lack available manpower, shortage of monetary and physical resources, violations of physical laws, and so on. It's like these people had no sense of adventure, of creativity. One note even worriedly asked if Shimakaze had gotten into some manner of narcotic. As if she, a proud Destroyer, would fall so low as to consume such filth!
Besides, how the hell was a pot classified as a narcotic? Was she supposed to eat it?
Shaking her head, Shimakaze was momentarily startled by the feeling of... emptiness within her. She'd failed as a friend to Willie. She'd failed to show the world the brilliance of her own designs. Plus, the new Admiral was being a jerkass about her fitout, for some odd reason. There was a part of her that wanted to just... give up on all of this. On the disappointment and heartbreak. To just let go and tear this vile place to ribbons...
Except, of course, throwing a super-powered temper tantrum like that would be utterly retarded. After all, she wasn't some sort of child.
With a sigh, Shimakaze tucked the sheaf of rejected project designs under her arm and made her way towards the dorms. Frankly, she felt like sulking. Sure, it wasn't the most mature of reactions, but screw it. After seeing all of her hard work literally written off by the stroke of a pen (or stamper, or whatever), the blonde Destroyer felt that she was entitled to a good bit of pouting in her room. Seriously, screw those guys. They just didn't appreciate genius when they saw it.
After a bit of walking in the hot sun, which served only to further sour her mood, Shimakaze stepped off the path and into the greenery, tossing herself to the ground and leaning against a tree. The hell with it, today sucked. She could have a perfectly good pout right here. Sighing heavily, the Japanese Destroyer looked up at the leaves and tried to figure out just how things could have gone so wrong.
"...Shimakaze?"
Jarred out of her sulk, the Destroyer looked up at the familiar figure of William D. Porter, who was gazing down at her with a look of concern. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"Nope," Shimakaze immediately replied.
"Oh." Willie fidgeted a bit. "Uh, what's wrong?"
"Today sucks," came the flat reply.
"O-okay," Willie stuttered, looking a bit uncomfortable. "W-what happened, exactly?"
Shimakaze looked up at Willie blearily, before handing her the sheaf of papers. "This happened."
The American Destroyer took the sheets and flipped through them. "Rejected," she read out loud. Then her eyes widened. "W-wait! Aren't these your-"
"Yep," Shimakaze sighed. "Those are my project proposals. My 'rejected' project proposals. Every last one of them." She raised a hand to her forehead, trying to rub away the frustration.
"Oh..." there was honest sympathy in Willie's voice as she sat down next to Shimakaze. "I'm really sorry to hear that. I know you were working hard."
Shimakaze felt a pang of regret in her heart, that only got worse when she turned her head to see Willie's compassionate gaze. "...It's okay, Willie," she said sadly. "You don't have to be here. I know I'm a crappy friend."
The American destroyer stared in shock. "What...?" she said weakly.
Shimakaze sighed. "I couldn't help you. All I did was make you mad at me. You don't even trust my advice when it comes to fitouts, not that I can blame you."
"Er, uh, w-well, I think you have the wrong, I mean..." Willie, deeply flustered, gestured wildly with her hands, trying to convey a point that just wasn't coming.
"It's fine, Willie," Shimakaze repeated herself. "I'm just a bad friend. You don't have to-" her words were cut off when Willie seized Shimakaze and started shaking her frantically.
"S-STOP SAYING THAT!" the American Destroyer wailed."Wh-why are you saying that, th-that's so stupid, y-you're a great friend, this isn't like you, what's gotten into you?!"
"Willie... Stop..." Shimakaze choked out. "You're... giving me... whiplash."
"EEP!" Willie squeaked, releasing Shimakaze. "S-sorry!" She wrung her hands, looking at the noticeably frazzled blonde. "Um, are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Shimakaze assured her, rubbing her neck a bit. "You have a heck of a grip, you know that?"
"I- I'M SOWWY!" Willie wailed again.
"Eh, I'm tough, no worries," Shimakaze assured her. She frowned. "Though recent events have convinced me that armor is kinda a good thing."
"...Sammy?"
"Uh-huh."
"Eep."
"Yep."
Willie peered at her friend, looking unhappy. "I don't like seeing you so depressed. It's so unlike you." She shifted a bit closer, genuinely concerned.
Shimakaze managed a smile. "I'll be fine. Today just really sucks, that's all." The blonde Destroyer wrapped her arms around her knees and plopped her chin down on top, blowing out her cheeks.
Willie blinked as something occurred to her. "...Are you pouting?"
"I'm not pouting," Shimakaze pouted. "You are."
Willie poked one of the blondes cheeks.
"Shtop it," Shimakaze grunted.
"Stop pouting first."
"No."
Poke.
"Stop it."
Willie giggled. "You're kinda cute when you're like this."
Shimakaze sniffed. "Jerk." Willie giggled again, and the two fell into a companionable silence.
"...Hey, Shimakaze?" Willie said hesitantly.
"Hm?" The blonde destroyer looked over at her friend, who was fidgeting nervously.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I got frustrated and... well, you were just trying to help me. But please don't say you're a bad friend, okay? You're not. You just, uh..." Willie struggled for the words. "You have a different design philosphy when it comes to fitouts, or something...?" she finished up lamely.
Shimakaze chuckled. "Yeah, I was being dumb, huh? Sorry. Like I said, today just kinda sucked, is all. But um, I'd like to keep practicing with you. Maybe it'll help, just a bit?"
Willie smiled shyly. "I'd like that, thanks."
Feeling a bit better, Shimakaze turned her attention to the grass blowing in the breeze. "Kinda wish that all of my proposals weren't rejected, though."
"Um." Willie glanced around awkwardly. "I think that some of them were a little too... extreme? Like..." She started sorting through the files. "Like, caterpillar treads for battleships?" Her voice betrayed extreme bafflement.
"Sure. I mean, it was proposed in the past, you know?"
Willie hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Well, that sounds like a lot of work, and um, we only have so many resources, I think?"
Shimakaze thought about it. "Well, maybe that and the jet propulsion with wings were a little extreme."
"Maybe a little," Willie allowed weakly. "Um, maybe you should focus on stuff that's a bit more manageable? Like, improved gunnery and stuff?"
"But that stuff's booooooring," Shimakaze moaned, thumping her head back against the tree. Willie giggled again in response. The blonde Destroyer just heaved a sigh, considering.
After a moment of thought, Willie hesitantly reached out and place her hand on top of Shimakaze's head. Then she gently started to rub. For her part, Shimakaze kept still, letting Willie pet her. Unconsciously, she began to lean into the head-pat. Cracking an eye open, the Japanese Destroyer couldn't help but note that her American friend seemed quite pleased with the situation. Well, two could play at that game. With speed and decisiveness, Shimakaze's hand shot out, Willie squeaking in surprise, and began to pat the American Destroyer's head.
For a moment, the two just sat there, locked in mutual head-pats. Then they burst into laughter. Shimakaze chuckled uncontrollably, letting the irritation of the day simply fade away. Willie giggled so hard, her braid bouncing in time, that her hat actually fell off of her head. "Aw!" She complained.
Smirking with a sudden idea, Shimakaze snatched up the hat before Willie could pick it up. With a few deft movements, the Japanese Destroyer undid her hair ribbon, finding a new home for it on Willie's head. Then she plopped the American's hat onto her own blonde locks. The two Destroyers took a good long look at each other's new fashion.
"Nah," they said simultaneously, and burst into laughter again.
Their headwear returned to the proper owners, the Destroyers got to their feet and headed for the dorms. "Hey, Willie?" Shimakaze said slowly.
"Yes?" Willie replied, looked cheerful.
"Well, I'm getting the impression that you don't want to wear the new training outfit for some reason. You know, the one Yuudachi picked out."
"Uh..." Willie looked a bit nervous, remembering the rather... abbreviated shorts and t-shirt the blonde had found her her.
"Which is fine, that's your call," Shimakaze rushed to assure her. "Even if it would make you so much faster! But uh, what I mean is, it's about Yuudachi." She shrugged. "You see, she worked really hard to pick out that outfit, and then you didn't put it on, and she got awfully disappointed. And with all of that... stuff going on with Shigure, she's been awfully down, you know? So would you mind modeling it for her? If nothing else? I really think that it would cheer her up."
Willie went very quiet, face already turning a bright red. For a moment, Shimakaze thought that her friend wouldn't respond, until, gurgling uncomfortably a little bit, Willie gave a stiff nod. "I'm not leaving my room, okay?" she said weakly.
"That's fine!" Shimakaze said enthusiastically, "I'm sure she'll appreciate it!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Thirty minutes later, William D. Porter refused to leave her closet.
"NOOOOOOOO!" she wailed.
"Willie, come on out!" Shimakaze laughed, shaking her head at her friend's behavior.
"It totally looked really good on you, poi!" Yuudachi enthused, eyes bright.
"NOOOOOOOO!"
"Like, you were totally really cute, poi! You and Shimakaze could totally pass as sisters, poi!"
"NOOOOOOOO!"
"Uh, Willie, how long do you plan to stay in there?" Shimakaze asked carefully.
"NOOOOOOOO!" It seemed to be all that Willie could say.
Yuudachi pouted a little bit. "Aw. She looked so cute, too, poi. Like, I wanted to show her new outfit off to Shigure, you know what I mean, poi?"
Shimakaze nodded. "And did you see how fast she ran into the closet? She really is faster in that outfit!"
"NOOOOOOOO!"
The two Japanese destroyers shrugged, After all, Willie had to come out of there eventually.
"NOOOOOOOO!"
"I just don't get it," Shimakaze said blankly.
Willie sighed wearily as the two of them walked through Yokosuka Naval Base. She was trying, desperately, to explain some of the finer points of fashion to her Japanese friend. Well no, that was overstating things. She was trying to explain to Shimakaze just why so many people acted so horrified when they saw how she was dressed. So far, it had been a failing endeavor.
"Okay," the American Destroyer said wearily. "Let's start over. You say dressing like that makes you go fast, right?"
"It does," Shimakaze confirmed. "I even timed myself."
That brought Willie up short. "What?"
"I timed myself running a course in various outfits," Shimakaze explained. "Wearing this, I'm about 5% faster than I am wearing what I came back with. The numbers are clear."
"How... but..." Willie stuttered, trying to make this work in her mind, and failing.
The blonde shrugged. "I don't fully grasp it myself, but it does work. When it comes right down to it, I really am getting rid of all unnecessary materials while not compromising my performance. It only makes sense that I'd get better speed, right?"
"But it's just clothing," Willie moaned. "I mean, why would-" She stopped short. "Um. Do you think it's working... because you think it *should* work?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe," Shimakaze shrugged again. "Nobody's too clear on how exactly our new bodies work. But you can't argue with the results, you know what I mean?"
"Well, okay then," Willie scratched her head as the two made her way along the waterfront. "Um, back to what I was saying, then. Have you ever wondered why people get so weird when they see what you're wearing?"
"Yeah, I just don't get it," her companion responded, folding her hands behind her head. "I asked Yuudachi about it, but she just wound up changing the subject. Said that she just wasn't getting through to me. I dunno."
"Um, well, your top is fine," Willie said carefully, "But it's kinda... short, you know? I mean, it shows off your stomach!"
"Some of the other ships show off their stomach, too," Shimakaze pointed out. "Just look at Yuubari. And besides, then you get the Kongou sisters, and I don't think any of them wear a bra. That can't be good for the superstructure." She shook her head in dismay.
"Um, uh," Willie stuttered, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Besides that, your stockings are kinda... flashy? I guess?"
"What's wrong with stripes?" The Japanese Destroyer asked blankly. "Besides, most of the carriers wear long socks, too. I just don't see the problem. I mean, I could take them off, if that's what's bothering people."
"N-no, nothing like that!" the American hastened to assure her friend. "And um, then there's your ribbon..." Willie trailed off, remembering the very distinctive hair ornaments a lot of ship-girls had, and realizing that this wouldn't work as a line of reasoning. "Never mind. I uh, guess that the real problem is your skirt. And, uh, y-your th-th-th-"
"Thong?" Shimakaze broke in, caused Willie to yelp with embarrassment. "It's part of a bathing suit. I would never wear underwear in public. It's why I can get away with wearing this short skirt. The skirt is pointless anyway, I just wear it to look professional. A longer one might get in the way, you know?"
Willie heaved a long-suffering sigh. "It's everything put together, Shimakaze. You look very... I mean... it's like you're trying to appear kinda... lewd."
Shimakaze frowned. "Willie. You and I are way too young to think about lewd things."
"I-I know that!" Willie wailed. "I-I'm just saying that people are a little bothered that you're wandering around in such a skimpy sw-swimsuit!"
The Japanese Destroyer rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, I favor a minimalistic design for performance. What do people take me for, I-19?"
"Did someone say my name~?" A nearby voice trilled.
Shimakaze's face turned sour. "Oh god. Not again. Get behind me, Willie."
Confused, Willie let Shimakaze get between her and a newcomer, who swayed up to them wearing a sort of extremely tight one-piece swimsuit. Which was completely soaked. Blue hair done up in tails, sultry smile on her face, this new figure sashayed up to them in a way that made her considerable assets sway prominently. Honestly, the whole thing seemed a little exaggerated to Willie. And the way the newcomer seemed to devour Shimakaze with her eyes set the American Destroyer on edge.
"Hello, I-19," Shimakaze said guardedly.
I-19 giggled, making her endowments jiggle. It was clearly a deliberate gesture. "Why, Shimakaze-nyaaaaahn~," she crooned, "Didn't I tell you to call me Iku? It's a lot less impersonal, don't you think?"
"Iku, then," Shimakaze said warily. "Can I help you with something?"
Iku swept her eyes hungrily over Shimakaze. "Well, I was just walking along and saw my *favorite* destroyer with an adorable new friend!" she crooned. "Why don't you introduce me to her?" The submarine winked at Willie. "Hi there! Want Big Sis Iku to teach you a bunch of fun things about the world?" Willie cowered further behind Shimakaze. "Aw, don't be like that! I'd love to-"
"I-19," Shimakaze said firmly. "This is Willie. And let me just say this to you: No. It's a very important word, I suggest you learn what it means."
Iku pouted. "Aww, there's no need to be like that! I just want to be friends with you, you know! Special friends! I bet we could have a lot of fun together~!" She laughed cloyingly.
Shimakaze stared at the submarine for a moment. Then she slowly stepped to the side. "Can you step over here, please?" the blonde beckoned with her finger.
"Oooooh~?" Grinning salaciously, the submarine swayed over to Shimakaze, getting a little too close for comfort. Then, several things happened at once.
First, Shimakaze chopped Iku in the face, making her yelp.
Second, Shimakaze grabbed a garbage can and dumped it out.
Third, the destroyer dropped the garbage can over Iku's body.
A few punches cinched the metal can around I-19's body.
Finally, Shimakaze spun the trapped submarine around a few times, and with a hard push, sent her staggered along the walkway, bouncing off several buildings as she went.
The Japanese Destroyer heaved a sigh and turn to a stunned Willie. "Sorry you had to see that," she said, looking a bit sick. "But with I-19, you have to be a bit firm. Otherwise, she gets, uh, grabby."
Willie yelped and hugged herself protectively. "Y-y-you mean sh-sh-she'd-"
"No, no, nothing like that," Shimakaze rushed to reassure her friend. "I-19 has SOME standards at least. She doesn't really go for us destroyers. Unless you're Ushio. Or Hamakaze. Or..." she trailed off, thinking. "Um, she doesn't go *too far* with us, over all, but she still gets awfully grabby. I lost a uniform to her one time, after she glomped me. She completely ruined it."
Willie blinked. "Wouldn't it dry off? I mean, I get that's she's awfully wet, but still."
Shimakaze made a face. "Yeah, um. That's not all water."
Willie's eyes bulged. "EWWWWWWW!"
"Yeah," her friend sighed, slumping over a bit. "That girl has some serious issues. I mean, what does she think she's doing? A wetsuit is fine for the water, but walking through base dripping wet, swaying like she does, completely on... display..." Shimakaze trailed off slowly. She stared at Willie. Down at herself. Back at Willie. Over at I-19, staggering away. Down at herself again. She fingered her thong, touched her stomach, and tugged at her skirt a bit. Slowly, she raised her head to look at Willie again.
And in her eyes, came the slow, sheer signs of Realization. Of Understanding forcing the gears in her head to align in a way they never had before.
Slowly, her voice weak, Shimakaze spoke. "People think I act like Iku."
"Um," was all Willie could say.
An expression of utter horror slowly consumed Shimakaze's face. "OH GOD." Like a bolt of lightning, the blonde Destroyer rushed over the the water's edge, fell to her knees, and began puking into the water. With a squeal of alarm, Willie rushed over to her friend's side.
------------------------------------------------------
Some time later, the two of them were in a coffee shop, Willie looking on in concern as Shimakaze sat with her face flat against the table.
"Oh god, kill me now," Shimakaze groaned.
"U-um, nobody thinks you act like I-19," Willie hesitantly assured her friend. "But you do dress sorta... you know. Provocatively."
"We're Destroyers. We're too young for that sort of behavior," Shimakaze said flatly.
"That's kinda the problem," Willie weakly replied. The Japanese Destroyer just groaned in response.
After a moment, Shimakaze spoke up again, voice muffled by the table. "That's not what I was trying to do, you know. I was honestly trying to help out your battle performance, like it did for me."
"Yeah, I know," Willie said with a smile.
"And Yuudachi didn't mean anything by it either. I asked for for some help looking for clothes for you. That's it."
"I know. And I appreciate it, really! It's just, um... I'd be very embarrassed wearing that stuff in public." She blushed at the very thought.
"I guess I can understand that," came Shimakaze's muffled voice. "So, everyone thinks that I'm showing off too much, huh?"
"Yeah, everybody thinks that you're kinda being a little dense with it," Willie confirmed.
"Hmph." Shaking her head, Shimakaze sat up and took a long drink of coffee. "Well, to hell with them," she shrugged.
William D. Porter blinked. "Huh?"
Shimakaze scowled. "I really don't care what people think, even if they're an old fogey Admiral, no offense, who can't understand clever engineering. People think I show off too much skin? Tell it to some of the cruisers. Bottom line, it improves my combat performance. The end." She took another drink of coffee.
Willie shook her head. "You're really confident, huh?"
Her counterpart shrugged. "Eh, if I cared what everyone thought of me, I'd go nuts. I have a good performance record, the rest comes with the ship. Take it or leave it." She paused. "So uh... what do you think of me? Honestly?"
Willie froze. "Um! I, I honestly think that you're a good friend, and you're good at what you do!" she said in a rush. Then she shrunk in her seat a bit. "But, um... I do think you dress kinda funny. Sorry."
Shimakaze smiled and winked. "I can live with that. I'll just keep quiet about your life preserver too, huh?"
"Ugh," Willie groaned, shrinking a bit more.
The Japanese Destroyer giggled. "Sorry, I'm just teasing. Whatever works, right?" After a moment's hesitation, she stood up and walked over to Willie, bending over to give her a hug. "Thanks for being my friend, even if I'm a weirdo."
After a moment of surprise, Willie smiled and returned the hug. "H-hey, my gunnery improves when I can't see anything," she reminded the blonde.
"American technology," Shimakaze giggled. "C'mon, let's get out of here." Nodding, Willie stood and the two made their way out of the shop. "Anyway, I'll stop being so pushy about the clothing."
"Thanks," Willie replied, blushing.
"Even though I think it would make you a whole lot faster," Shimakaze added.
"Right," Willie said nervously.
"And you totally looked cute in it."
"Um."
"And you should totally be more confident in yourself- oops, sorry," the Japanese Destroyer raised her hands at Willie's pout. "I'll try to watch that."
The two walked along together for a while. After a moment, Willie spoke up again. "Hey, um, what's with your guns, anyway?"
Shimakaze brightened up. "Ah, you mean the Rensouhou-chan? Aren't they cute?!"
"Um, sure," Willie allowed.
"There's not too many girls with something like that. But they're awfully convenient. I- hey!" Shimakaze snapped her fingers as an idea occurred to her. "Want me to make you one?"
"EHH?!"
Willie sighed wearily as the two of them walked through Yokosuka Naval Base. She was trying, desperately, to explain some of the finer points of fashion to her Japanese friend. Well no, that was overstating things. She was trying to explain to Shimakaze just why so many people acted so horrified when they saw how she was dressed. So far, it had been a failing endeavor.
"Okay," the American Destroyer said wearily. "Let's start over. You say dressing like that makes you go fast, right?"
"It does," Shimakaze confirmed. "I even timed myself."
That brought Willie up short. "What?"
"I timed myself running a course in various outfits," Shimakaze explained. "Wearing this, I'm about 5% faster than I am wearing what I came back with. The numbers are clear."
"How... but..." Willie stuttered, trying to make this work in her mind, and failing.
The blonde shrugged. "I don't fully grasp it myself, but it does work. When it comes right down to it, I really am getting rid of all unnecessary materials while not compromising my performance. It only makes sense that I'd get better speed, right?"
"But it's just clothing," Willie moaned. "I mean, why would-" She stopped short. "Um. Do you think it's working... because you think it *should* work?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe," Shimakaze shrugged again. "Nobody's too clear on how exactly our new bodies work. But you can't argue with the results, you know what I mean?"
"Well, okay then," Willie scratched her head as the two made her way along the waterfront. "Um, back to what I was saying, then. Have you ever wondered why people get so weird when they see what you're wearing?"
"Yeah, I just don't get it," her companion responded, folding her hands behind her head. "I asked Yuudachi about it, but she just wound up changing the subject. Said that she just wasn't getting through to me. I dunno."
"Um, well, your top is fine," Willie said carefully, "But it's kinda... short, you know? I mean, it shows off your stomach!"
"Some of the other ships show off their stomach, too," Shimakaze pointed out. "Just look at Yuubari. And besides, then you get the Kongou sisters, and I don't think any of them wear a bra. That can't be good for the superstructure." She shook her head in dismay.
"Um, uh," Willie stuttered, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Besides that, your stockings are kinda... flashy? I guess?"
"What's wrong with stripes?" The Japanese Destroyer asked blankly. "Besides, most of the carriers wear long socks, too. I just don't see the problem. I mean, I could take them off, if that's what's bothering people."
"N-no, nothing like that!" the American hastened to assure her friend. "And um, then there's your ribbon..." Willie trailed off, remembering the very distinctive hair ornaments a lot of ship-girls had, and realizing that this wouldn't work as a line of reasoning. "Never mind. I uh, guess that the real problem is your skirt. And, uh, y-your th-th-th-"
"Thong?" Shimakaze broke in, caused Willie to yelp with embarrassment. "It's part of a bathing suit. I would never wear underwear in public. It's why I can get away with wearing this short skirt. The skirt is pointless anyway, I just wear it to look professional. A longer one might get in the way, you know?"
Willie heaved a long-suffering sigh. "It's everything put together, Shimakaze. You look very... I mean... it's like you're trying to appear kinda... lewd."
Shimakaze frowned. "Willie. You and I are way too young to think about lewd things."
"I-I know that!" Willie wailed. "I-I'm just saying that people are a little bothered that you're wandering around in such a skimpy sw-swimsuit!"
The Japanese Destroyer rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, I favor a minimalistic design for performance. What do people take me for, I-19?"
"Did someone say my name~?" A nearby voice trilled.
Shimakaze's face turned sour. "Oh god. Not again. Get behind me, Willie."
Confused, Willie let Shimakaze get between her and a newcomer, who swayed up to them wearing a sort of extremely tight one-piece swimsuit. Which was completely soaked. Blue hair done up in tails, sultry smile on her face, this new figure sashayed up to them in a way that made her considerable assets sway prominently. Honestly, the whole thing seemed a little exaggerated to Willie. And the way the newcomer seemed to devour Shimakaze with her eyes set the American Destroyer on edge.
"Hello, I-19," Shimakaze said guardedly.
I-19 giggled, making her endowments jiggle. It was clearly a deliberate gesture. "Why, Shimakaze-nyaaaaahn~," she crooned, "Didn't I tell you to call me Iku? It's a lot less impersonal, don't you think?"
"Iku, then," Shimakaze said warily. "Can I help you with something?"
Iku swept her eyes hungrily over Shimakaze. "Well, I was just walking along and saw my *favorite* destroyer with an adorable new friend!" she crooned. "Why don't you introduce me to her?" The submarine winked at Willie. "Hi there! Want Big Sis Iku to teach you a bunch of fun things about the world?" Willie cowered further behind Shimakaze. "Aw, don't be like that! I'd love to-"
"I-19," Shimakaze said firmly. "This is Willie. And let me just say this to you: No. It's a very important word, I suggest you learn what it means."
Iku pouted. "Aww, there's no need to be like that! I just want to be friends with you, you know! Special friends! I bet we could have a lot of fun together~!" She laughed cloyingly.
Shimakaze stared at the submarine for a moment. Then she slowly stepped to the side. "Can you step over here, please?" the blonde beckoned with her finger.
"Oooooh~?" Grinning salaciously, the submarine swayed over to Shimakaze, getting a little too close for comfort. Then, several things happened at once.
First, Shimakaze chopped Iku in the face, making her yelp.
Second, Shimakaze grabbed a garbage can and dumped it out.
Third, the destroyer dropped the garbage can over Iku's body.
A few punches cinched the metal can around I-19's body.
Finally, Shimakaze spun the trapped submarine around a few times, and with a hard push, sent her staggered along the walkway, bouncing off several buildings as she went.
The Japanese Destroyer heaved a sigh and turn to a stunned Willie. "Sorry you had to see that," she said, looking a bit sick. "But with I-19, you have to be a bit firm. Otherwise, she gets, uh, grabby."
Willie yelped and hugged herself protectively. "Y-y-you mean sh-sh-she'd-"
"No, no, nothing like that," Shimakaze rushed to reassure her friend. "I-19 has SOME standards at least. She doesn't really go for us destroyers. Unless you're Ushio. Or Hamakaze. Or..." she trailed off, thinking. "Um, she doesn't go *too far* with us, over all, but she still gets awfully grabby. I lost a uniform to her one time, after she glomped me. She completely ruined it."
Willie blinked. "Wouldn't it dry off? I mean, I get that's she's awfully wet, but still."
Shimakaze made a face. "Yeah, um. That's not all water."
Willie's eyes bulged. "EWWWWWWW!"
"Yeah," her friend sighed, slumping over a bit. "That girl has some serious issues. I mean, what does she think she's doing? A wetsuit is fine for the water, but walking through base dripping wet, swaying like she does, completely on... display..." Shimakaze trailed off slowly. She stared at Willie. Down at herself. Back at Willie. Over at I-19, staggering away. Down at herself again. She fingered her thong, touched her stomach, and tugged at her skirt a bit. Slowly, she raised her head to look at Willie again.
And in her eyes, came the slow, sheer signs of Realization. Of Understanding forcing the gears in her head to align in a way they never had before.
Slowly, her voice weak, Shimakaze spoke. "People think I act like Iku."
"Um," was all Willie could say.
An expression of utter horror slowly consumed Shimakaze's face. "OH GOD." Like a bolt of lightning, the blonde Destroyer rushed over the the water's edge, fell to her knees, and began puking into the water. With a squeal of alarm, Willie rushed over to her friend's side.
------------------------------------------------------
Some time later, the two of them were in a coffee shop, Willie looking on in concern as Shimakaze sat with her face flat against the table.
"Oh god, kill me now," Shimakaze groaned.
"U-um, nobody thinks you act like I-19," Willie hesitantly assured her friend. "But you do dress sorta... you know. Provocatively."
"We're Destroyers. We're too young for that sort of behavior," Shimakaze said flatly.
"That's kinda the problem," Willie weakly replied. The Japanese Destroyer just groaned in response.
After a moment, Shimakaze spoke up again, voice muffled by the table. "That's not what I was trying to do, you know. I was honestly trying to help out your battle performance, like it did for me."
"Yeah, I know," Willie said with a smile.
"And Yuudachi didn't mean anything by it either. I asked for for some help looking for clothes for you. That's it."
"I know. And I appreciate it, really! It's just, um... I'd be very embarrassed wearing that stuff in public." She blushed at the very thought.
"I guess I can understand that," came Shimakaze's muffled voice. "So, everyone thinks that I'm showing off too much, huh?"
"Yeah, everybody thinks that you're kinda being a little dense with it," Willie confirmed.
"Hmph." Shaking her head, Shimakaze sat up and took a long drink of coffee. "Well, to hell with them," she shrugged.
William D. Porter blinked. "Huh?"
Shimakaze scowled. "I really don't care what people think, even if they're an old fogey Admiral, no offense, who can't understand clever engineering. People think I show off too much skin? Tell it to some of the cruisers. Bottom line, it improves my combat performance. The end." She took another drink of coffee.
Willie shook her head. "You're really confident, huh?"
Her counterpart shrugged. "Eh, if I cared what everyone thought of me, I'd go nuts. I have a good performance record, the rest comes with the ship. Take it or leave it." She paused. "So uh... what do you think of me? Honestly?"
Willie froze. "Um! I, I honestly think that you're a good friend, and you're good at what you do!" she said in a rush. Then she shrunk in her seat a bit. "But, um... I do think you dress kinda funny. Sorry."
Shimakaze smiled and winked. "I can live with that. I'll just keep quiet about your life preserver too, huh?"
"Ugh," Willie groaned, shrinking a bit more.
The Japanese Destroyer giggled. "Sorry, I'm just teasing. Whatever works, right?" After a moment's hesitation, she stood up and walked over to Willie, bending over to give her a hug. "Thanks for being my friend, even if I'm a weirdo."
After a moment of surprise, Willie smiled and returned the hug. "H-hey, my gunnery improves when I can't see anything," she reminded the blonde.
"American technology," Shimakaze giggled. "C'mon, let's get out of here." Nodding, Willie stood and the two made their way out of the shop. "Anyway, I'll stop being so pushy about the clothing."
"Thanks," Willie replied, blushing.
"Even though I think it would make you a whole lot faster," Shimakaze added.
"Right," Willie said nervously.
"And you totally looked cute in it."
"Um."
"And you should totally be more confident in yourself- oops, sorry," the Japanese Destroyer raised her hands at Willie's pout. "I'll try to watch that."
The two walked along together for a while. After a moment, Willie spoke up again. "Hey, um, what's with your guns, anyway?"
Shimakaze brightened up. "Ah, you mean the Rensouhou-chan? Aren't they cute?!"
"Um, sure," Willie allowed.
"There's not too many girls with something like that. But they're awfully convenient. I- hey!" Shimakaze snapped her fingers as an idea occurred to her. "Want me to make you one?"
"EHH?!"
With a broad smile, Shimakaze threw her arms wide in an enthusiastic welcome. "And this is my workshop!" she proclaimed.
Willie looked around curiously. Shimakaze's 'workshop' was an unused corner of one of the warehouses, carefully walled off and filled with an assortment of... everything, really. Carefully polished industrial tools were placed here and there. A series of engineering texts and technical manuals adorned a set of shelves, while a laptop hummed quietly on a desk, surrounded by reams of paper. Devices and half-disassembled mechanisms hung from the ceiling on chains, while bizarre contraptions lay scattered about on worktables.
It was an odd combination of orderly and madhouse, and Willie had to admit that it absolutely screamed Shimakaze.
Wandering around under Shimakaze's proud smile, Willie glanced at the numerous diagrams hung on the walls. They seemed to be blueprints of naval vessels, mostly IJN. A few seemed to be hand-drawn designs of Shimakaze herself, actually. The original ship version, that was.
"Shimakaze, is this, ummm..." Willie gestured at one of said drawings.
"Yep," Shimakaze confirmed. "I can actually bring my full blueprints to mind, if I think about it hard enough. I sketched them out by hand. Technically, this is classified stuff, but eh," she shrugged, "I think we're way past that, you know?"
Willie paused. "I can't write out my own blueprints. Sorry."
"I think I forgive you," Shimakaze responded wryly.
Willie looked at the diagrams a bit more, noticing that a lot of them included idea for possible modifications. Somewhat... extreme modifications. Jet engines? Hydrofoils...? Wings?!
"Um, Shimakaze?" Willie said awkwardly. She gestured at one of the diagrams. "Some of these modifications seem, um..."
"Yeeeaaahhhh, I've been informed that some of these just aren't workable," the blonde destroyer said sheepishly. "I'm trying to focus on other things. Like, rebuilding my engines into gas turbines. It's all about speed, you know?"
The American destroyer cringed. "Wouldn't that, um, require surgery? Or something?" Her voice quavered at the thought of masked men leaning over her with cutting torches, and oh god this mental image was going bad places stop stop stop!
"Well, with what happened with Akagi, there may be a way around that," Shimakaze pointed out. "But even if not, it might be possible to do all of the work on myself as I am..." she trailed off, looking at a relatively new sketch thoughtfully.
Willie froze, mind filling with a horrible mental image of a cackling Shimakaze using a cutting torch to slice herself open, oil and coolant flying as she brought tools to bear on her own innards-
"NNNNOOOOOOOO!!!" the American destroyer wailed, rushing over and seizing her friend. "You can't do that! It's too dangerous, you could hurt yourself and die and oh gosh you can't do that to yourself nnnnoOOOOOOO!!!"
"W-W-W-W-W-Willie, y-y-you're shaking me too hard again," Shimakaze stammered as Willie thrashed her around like a paint mixer. "Ch-chilll out!"
"Eep!" Willie halted and let go of Shimakaze, who looked decidedly bedraggled. "I-I'm so sorry!"
"Heeeeeey, no probleeeem," the Japanese destroyer responded, looking as dazed as she sounded. "I appreciate your conceeeeeeern, and I'm just gonna go sit down now." Shimakaze staggered over to her desk and plopped down in the chair. Nervously, Willie walked over to stand beside her, glancing down at the books and papers scattered over it. More manuals, detailed sketches, some drafting tools, and a lot of papers with red ink marking them as REJECTED.
"Okay, I think I'm okay now." Shimakaze blinked, coming back to herself. "Right, so... making you a turret!" She clapped her hands together, eyes seeming to gleam.
"Um... is that really such a good idea?" Willie asked nervously.
Shimakaze shrugged. "Well, I'm making it from scratch, so it won't hurt you any. Worst that happens is that I manage to make you a spare part. Anyway, why don't I introduce you to my complement?"
"Your complement?" Willie blinked.
"Yeah! Say hello, guys!" A chorus of quiet, muffled squeaks rang out behind the American, and she turned around to
see
turrets.
The turrets from before. Three turrets, standing on their own two flipper-feet, smiling up at her (well, one looked like it was scowling). Turrets, with openings in their front forming eyes. Turrets, with creases taking the shape of two smiles and one frown.
The one on the left leapt up excitedly, arms waving enthusiastically, and ...face... scrunched up in what looked like a happy grin. The way the metal seemed to just flow into place almost dizzied Willie.
The second turret simply came to attention, flipper coming up in a salute, its happy smile remaining unchanged. As for the third one, it just seemed to glower at everything and nothing in particular. Willie almost thought she could hear someone grumbling to itself, but that was just background noise from somewhere else. She thought.
"...I still don't think I'm used to these guys," Willie said weakly.
"Yeah, some people act funny around them. Not really sure why. I mean, a couple other girls have them too." Shimakaze frowned. "Though number three has a bit of an attitude problem that needs adjusting. Hint hint, number three." The other two turrets gave Three a stern look, while the turret in question seemed to heave a long-suffering sigh.
"Anyway, introductions!" Shimakaze sprang to her feet, all enthusiasm again. "First, on the left, we have Number One! He's such a cutie." One seemed to bounce in place, reminding Willie of the PT corgis. A blocky, metal corgi. "And in the middle is Number Two, ever the perfect soldier." Two straightened, seeming to gleam with pride at Shimakaze's words. "And finally we have Number Three. He's solid, reliable, but a bit grumpy I'm afraid." Three just glowered up at the two Destroyers.
After a moment's pause, Shimakaze leaned over to whisper in Willie's ear. "Honestly? Three's kind of a jerk, but he really is reliable. Try not to let him get to you."
"O...kay?" Willie said uncertainly, not really used to the idea of ship components being ambulatory and self-willed.
"Anyway!" Shimakaze clapped her hands together. "Time for ENGINEERING!" Willie, I'd like you to summon your outfit, please. You guys, please go grab me some materials."
"Um, if you say so," Willie said nervously, her fitout manifesting around her in a blue glow. The three turrets rushed off to gather tools and supplies. Well, except for Three, who shambled along looking grouchy. Meanwhile, Shimakaze had pulled out a tape measure and a clipboard.
"Right! First things first, we need to get some measurements! Oh, and do you mind telling me about..."
----------------------------------------------------
Things went surprisingly quickly. Once on the job, Shimakaze was extremely efficient and professional as she went about her work. She was the absolute model of an upstanding officer and ship, albeit one clad in a thong and micro-miniskirt, which Willie felt she would never get used to, no matter Shimakaze's reasoning on the matter.
First came a series of measurements. A bit of consultation with Willie about her internal compartments. Some consultation of a variety of manuals, and then careful sketching on sheets of paper which grew into schematics. Then the sounds of machining filled the air as Shimakaze went to work transforming a variety of materials she had gotten from... somewhere... into something that perfectly resembled one of Willie's turrets.
Except with flippers. And grooves for eyes and a smiley-face.
And now two shipgirls and three turrets stood around a workbench where a brand-new turret stood, silent and unmoving.
"What happens now?" Willie asks quietly.
Shimakaze looked up at her. "I have no idea whatsoever."
"Huh?!"
The blonde destroyer coughed awkwardly. "Well... I mean, maintenance aside, I've never actually built a turret from scratch before. And you know, my turrets came with me like this, it's not like I built them or anything." She scratched her head. "Um... I guess I assumed something would just happen?"
Willie stared down at the new turret, which had yet to do anything. Shimakaze started to fidget, while her three turrets had somehow gotten up on the bench, surveying the new creation curiously. Turret One looked up at Willie and tilted its head, gesturing at the construction. After a moment's hesitation, she reached out and picked it up.
Well... it certainly had heft to it. And it was well-made! She still wondered where Shimakaze had managed to get such tiny tools with which to craft it. However, nothing seemed to be happening.
"Try... hugging it maybe?" Shimakaze suggested hopefully. Willie complied. It wasn't very cuddly.
"Set it on your rig?" Shimakaze suggested next, looking like she was starting to sweat. Willie complied once more, setting the turret on her rigging. Nothing happened.
"Uh... maybe kiss it?" Shimakaze said, a note of desperation in her voice.
"Wh-what?!" Willie squeaked, flushing red.
"I dunno!" Shimakaze wailed. "Maybe your breath will breathe life into it and awaken it or something?! I just thought it would be obvious at this point!"
Groaning with hesitation, Willie hesitantly brought the immobile turret closer to her mouth before awkwardly pecking it on the 'forehead.' Turrets One and Two's flippers rushed to their mouths while they seemed to wobble in embarrassment, while Three... tilted its head in apparent interest. For good measure, Willie took a deep breath and breathed over the turrets structure before setting it down.
Nothing happened.
For five full minutes, nothing continued to happen.
"...I don't think it's gonna work," Shimakaze admitted quietly.
"Me neither," Willie admitted, taking the turret up again. It really was surprisingly well-made. "I mean, I don't feel anything from it, like I do the rest of my equipment."
"Oh." Shimakaze stared blearily at the tiny machine for a moment before slowly leaning forward until her face planted itself on the bench. "In other words: another failure." She sighed wearily.
"U-um!" Willie jumped and quickly rushed over to her friend's side. "I-I mean, it's not necessarily a failure!" The other turrets crowded around their mistress, looking worried. Even Number Three.
"It's not like it works properly," Shimakaze mumbled.
"Well, not like these guys do," Willie admitted, looking at the three living turrets. "But this thing... kinda feels right in my hand, you know? Like, maybe if you took away the flippers and stuff, I could use it as a spare... or even a main weapon! I mean it does feel pretty nice..."
"That's cool but..." Shimakaze looked up blearily. "I wanted to give you a nice present, you know? You always look so depressed, and I wanted to do something nice for you."
Willie blinked. "Really?"
"Yeah," the blonde destroyer sighed, standing straight. "I mean, you're always creeping around base like that. I get why, but I just wish you'd stop doing that. The past is past, you know?"
"I-I get that, but..." Willie considered the handcrafted turret carefully. Comments about the IJN's craftmanship aside, it was very well made. Maybe with some modifications she could actually use it? Made by a shipgirl... "You really just wanted to give me a present?"
"That's what friends do, right?" Shimakaze looked at her innocently.
Willie blushed, feeling like she was going to tear up. All that effort, and just so Shimakaze could do something nice for her? That... that was just so-
And that was when the door got kicked open. "SLUUUUUUUTAAAAAAKAAAAAZEEEEE!!!"
Sammy stomped in, eyes wild.
Willie paled, freezing in terror. The three turrets whipped around, pointing their barrels at the intruder while still managing to look very nervous. It was Shimakaze, standing very still, who voiced what they all were thinking. "Uh oh."
Samuel B. Roberts smiled her manic smile, breathing heavily, some odd sort of contraption on her shoulders. "Finally found you, you annoying, half-naked nipboat! I've been looking all over for you! Boy, you're hard to catch up to, you know that?"
"...I am built for speed," Shimakaze admitted, eyes flitting around nervously. Willie noted with a sinking feeling that there was no other exit.
"Yeah, you're one hell of a slippery Jap, now aren't ya?" Sammy went on with an increasingly cheerful tone of voice. The kind of cheerful that terrified. "But this time, I'm gonna use your own tricks against you!"
That brought Willie up short. "...You are?" The American destroyer didn't like the mad look in her fellow's eyes.
"That's right!" Sammy chirped, smile getting even broader. "I slipped in here and looked through some of your work! Sure is some weird stuff in here!" She giggled manically. "Buuuuuut I found something that's sure to let me stay caught up to you! Use the enemy's tricks against them, you know?"
Shimakaze blinked. "You did?" she asked blankly.
"You did...?" Willie echoed skeptically. Shimakaze was a dear friend, but some of the diagrams on the wall were less 'brilliantly inspired' and more 'drug-inspired'...
"That's right!" Sammy crowed. "So there's no getting away this time!" Her eyes gleamed with blood-madness and dark cheer. "So let's see what this fancy shit can do, huh?!" With a quick gesture, Sammy hit some sort of switch on the contraption and-
Two miniature rockets roared to life.
For a minute, the workshop was filled with the sound of two small propane tanks firing tiny jets of flame. That was about it.
Sammy's smile slowly turned brittle and then into dawning horror, like she was waking up from a terrible dream. The three turrets took in the scene before turning to one another and, as one, leapt off the table to scuttle solemnly away. Willie stared on with a strange feeling of pity in her heart. Shimakaze was completely unreadable.
After a long minute, the flames died away, and Sammy stood there in the workshop, a numb expression on her features. She looked at the odd rig on her shoulders as if seeing it for the first time.
"...That's one of my earliest proof-of-concept experiments," Shimakaze said quietly. "You read my notes and took it for yourself."
"...I did," Sammy said quietly, her voice stunned. "I..." she rubbed her forehead and leaned against a table. "I don't know what came over me. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, I just got so mad, all I could think about was getting my hands on you and around your throat..."
"You used my notes," Shimakaze pressed her.
"Yeah." Sammy shrugged the apparatus off, gazing down at it, and then herself, in slowly increasing horror. "I have no idea what I was thinking. Why I thought that was a good idea. I mean... goddamn, what was the matter with me?" With every moment, the DE was coming back to herself, looking a bit green around the gills.
"Um, are you okay?" Wilie asked nervously.
Sammy shuddered. "No. No, I don't think I am." She stared down at the bizarre creation in her hands, face crinkling with revulsion, before hurling it at the far wall. The Destroyer Escort choked a bit, like she was holding back vomit. Sammy wiped at her shoulders hurriedly. "Oh god. Oh dear god. I... touched JAP ENGINEERING. I was USING JAPANESE ENGINEERING. Oh sweet lord." She took a deep, steadying breath. "Okay. I don't think it got on me permanently. Okay."
Willie hesitated. "So... do you feel better now?"
Sammy rubbed her head. "I think so. Wow. Going off the edge like that makes you do some crazy shit, doesn't it?" Willie chose not to respond. The DE glanced down at her hands. "Though maybe I should get a bone saw, or maybe a cutting torch..." she murmured, filling Willie with panic.
And then slowly, carefully, Shimakaze made her way over to Sammy. She looked the confused DE in the eyes. And then threw her arms around the redhead in a tight hug.
"I have an apprentice!" Shimakaze squealed happily. "Oh, you adorable little thing! Now I know that I can't give up! Ever!"
Sammy went very still. Sammy went very rigid. Sammy's eyes got very, very wide. Slowly but steadily, a palpable aura of malice began to suffuse the room.
Shimakaze let go of the little girl and looked down at her. Sammy was still standing rigidly, but was beginning to tremble all over, face going from red to purple as an eyelid twitched and a vein began to stand out on her forehead. A sound came from her throat, like a kettle starting to boil. That sense of malice continued to escalate.
Seemingly nonchalantly, Shimakaze turned to look at Willie, eyes wide with restrained panic. "Willie?" she asked with tight calm. "Would you like to go somewhere else? Right now?"
"Yes!" Willie squeaked, power walking for the door. Shimakaze joined her, leaving Sammy behind to her steadily escalating rage.
As the two left the workshop and hurried away, Shimakaze turned her eyes skyward. "You know, it's such a nice day for a good jog." Woodenly, Willie nodded her agreement.
Behind them, a scream of bloodcurdling rage spilled forth from the workshop, and the two decided to make it an impromptu sprint, instead.
------------------------------------------
"How long until she calms down do you think?" Shimakaze asked some time later, as the two looked at store displays.
"Um... give her some time to work it out of her system, and then to eat some ice cream..." the American destroyer mulled it over. "Just... don't go back to your shop tonight, okay?"
"Sound tactic," Shimakaze nodded, looking thoughtfully at some sweaters. "Those look so cuddly, but they'd add so much weight..."
Willie sighed, looking around some of the displays. A bit away, she recognized the Destroyer Yuudachi, the one who'd picked out that thing Willie refused to let herself think about moving on nevermind. Yuudachi appeared to be looking at-
The American destroyer blinked. "Hey, Shimakaze?"
"Hm?"
"About your outfit."
"I'm not changing it," the blonde grumbled. "I don't care what people think I look like, I'm not sacrificing performance for fashion mores."
"Just come over here," Willie insisted, taking her friend by the hand and pulling her over to Yuudachi.
The black-clad destroyer looked up in surprise as the two of them walked over. "Oh! Good evening, poi!"
Willie walked up to her before releasing Shimakaze. "Hi. Um, those are sarongs, right?"
"Yeah, I always thought hey looked kinda nice... poi..." Yuudachi trailed off, looking Willie deep in the eyes. As one, they turned to stare at Shimakaze, who stared back.
"What?" the bethonged one asked.
Willie and Yuudachi turned to look at one another, understanding glimmering in Yuudachi's eyes. "Hey, Shimakaze," Willie said slowly, "What color do you like wearing?"
"They say red makes you go faster, poi!" Yuudachi said brightly.
Shimakaze frowned. "That's silly. I think you read the wrong internet sites, Yuudachi. I like blue, since you're asking."
Silently, Willie looked through the sarongs on display before reaching out and picking up a plain one about the same color as Shimakaze's skirt. She handed it to Yuudachi, who took the cloth and walked over to said Destroyer. Carefully folding the cloth, Yuudachi wrapped it around Shimakaze's waist, making sure to tug it above the thong straps before tying it off to one side. When the black-dressed destroyer finally stepped back, Shimakaze had a gauzy layer of material wrapped loosely around her, going down almost to her knees.
It concealed a lot more, which made all the difference to Willie.
Shimakaze stared down at it, then looked up at the other two. "Will this get everyone off my back, then?"
Yuudachi smiled. "It's lightweight, I can show you how to tie it on, and it's easy to pull off when you go out on maneuvers, poi!" she said enthusiastically.
"Y-yeah!" Willie said urgently. "I mean, um, I'm a friend, and this is a gift from a friend, so..." she hesitated a long moment before blurting everything out in a rush. "I really like you but that outfit is really bothering a lot of people so P-P-PLEASE JUST WEAR A LITTLE BIT MORE!"
"What she said, poi," Yuudachi nodded.
Shimakaze heaved a sigh. Then she chuckled. "Well, fine. I can live with this. After all, can't say no to a gift from a friend, now can I?" She winked at Willie, who giggled, blushing.
And that was how Willie got Shimakaze to wear more clothing. Marginally.
Willie looked around curiously. Shimakaze's 'workshop' was an unused corner of one of the warehouses, carefully walled off and filled with an assortment of... everything, really. Carefully polished industrial tools were placed here and there. A series of engineering texts and technical manuals adorned a set of shelves, while a laptop hummed quietly on a desk, surrounded by reams of paper. Devices and half-disassembled mechanisms hung from the ceiling on chains, while bizarre contraptions lay scattered about on worktables.
It was an odd combination of orderly and madhouse, and Willie had to admit that it absolutely screamed Shimakaze.
Wandering around under Shimakaze's proud smile, Willie glanced at the numerous diagrams hung on the walls. They seemed to be blueprints of naval vessels, mostly IJN. A few seemed to be hand-drawn designs of Shimakaze herself, actually. The original ship version, that was.
"Shimakaze, is this, ummm..." Willie gestured at one of said drawings.
"Yep," Shimakaze confirmed. "I can actually bring my full blueprints to mind, if I think about it hard enough. I sketched them out by hand. Technically, this is classified stuff, but eh," she shrugged, "I think we're way past that, you know?"
Willie paused. "I can't write out my own blueprints. Sorry."
"I think I forgive you," Shimakaze responded wryly.
Willie looked at the diagrams a bit more, noticing that a lot of them included idea for possible modifications. Somewhat... extreme modifications. Jet engines? Hydrofoils...? Wings?!
"Um, Shimakaze?" Willie said awkwardly. She gestured at one of the diagrams. "Some of these modifications seem, um..."
"Yeeeaaahhhh, I've been informed that some of these just aren't workable," the blonde destroyer said sheepishly. "I'm trying to focus on other things. Like, rebuilding my engines into gas turbines. It's all about speed, you know?"
The American destroyer cringed. "Wouldn't that, um, require surgery? Or something?" Her voice quavered at the thought of masked men leaning over her with cutting torches, and oh god this mental image was going bad places stop stop stop!
"Well, with what happened with Akagi, there may be a way around that," Shimakaze pointed out. "But even if not, it might be possible to do all of the work on myself as I am..." she trailed off, looking at a relatively new sketch thoughtfully.
Willie froze, mind filling with a horrible mental image of a cackling Shimakaze using a cutting torch to slice herself open, oil and coolant flying as she brought tools to bear on her own innards-
"NNNNOOOOOOOO!!!" the American destroyer wailed, rushing over and seizing her friend. "You can't do that! It's too dangerous, you could hurt yourself and die and oh gosh you can't do that to yourself nnnnoOOOOOOO!!!"
"W-W-W-W-W-Willie, y-y-you're shaking me too hard again," Shimakaze stammered as Willie thrashed her around like a paint mixer. "Ch-chilll out!"
"Eep!" Willie halted and let go of Shimakaze, who looked decidedly bedraggled. "I-I'm so sorry!"
"Heeeeeey, no probleeeem," the Japanese destroyer responded, looking as dazed as she sounded. "I appreciate your conceeeeeeern, and I'm just gonna go sit down now." Shimakaze staggered over to her desk and plopped down in the chair. Nervously, Willie walked over to stand beside her, glancing down at the books and papers scattered over it. More manuals, detailed sketches, some drafting tools, and a lot of papers with red ink marking them as REJECTED.
"Okay, I think I'm okay now." Shimakaze blinked, coming back to herself. "Right, so... making you a turret!" She clapped her hands together, eyes seeming to gleam.
"Um... is that really such a good idea?" Willie asked nervously.
Shimakaze shrugged. "Well, I'm making it from scratch, so it won't hurt you any. Worst that happens is that I manage to make you a spare part. Anyway, why don't I introduce you to my complement?"
"Your complement?" Willie blinked.
"Yeah! Say hello, guys!" A chorus of quiet, muffled squeaks rang out behind the American, and she turned around to
see
turrets.
The turrets from before. Three turrets, standing on their own two flipper-feet, smiling up at her (well, one looked like it was scowling). Turrets, with openings in their front forming eyes. Turrets, with creases taking the shape of two smiles and one frown.
The one on the left leapt up excitedly, arms waving enthusiastically, and ...face... scrunched up in what looked like a happy grin. The way the metal seemed to just flow into place almost dizzied Willie.
The second turret simply came to attention, flipper coming up in a salute, its happy smile remaining unchanged. As for the third one, it just seemed to glower at everything and nothing in particular. Willie almost thought she could hear someone grumbling to itself, but that was just background noise from somewhere else. She thought.
"...I still don't think I'm used to these guys," Willie said weakly.
"Yeah, some people act funny around them. Not really sure why. I mean, a couple other girls have them too." Shimakaze frowned. "Though number three has a bit of an attitude problem that needs adjusting. Hint hint, number three." The other two turrets gave Three a stern look, while the turret in question seemed to heave a long-suffering sigh.
"Anyway, introductions!" Shimakaze sprang to her feet, all enthusiasm again. "First, on the left, we have Number One! He's such a cutie." One seemed to bounce in place, reminding Willie of the PT corgis. A blocky, metal corgi. "And in the middle is Number Two, ever the perfect soldier." Two straightened, seeming to gleam with pride at Shimakaze's words. "And finally we have Number Three. He's solid, reliable, but a bit grumpy I'm afraid." Three just glowered up at the two Destroyers.
After a moment's pause, Shimakaze leaned over to whisper in Willie's ear. "Honestly? Three's kind of a jerk, but he really is reliable. Try not to let him get to you."
"O...kay?" Willie said uncertainly, not really used to the idea of ship components being ambulatory and self-willed.
"Anyway!" Shimakaze clapped her hands together. "Time for ENGINEERING!" Willie, I'd like you to summon your outfit, please. You guys, please go grab me some materials."
"Um, if you say so," Willie said nervously, her fitout manifesting around her in a blue glow. The three turrets rushed off to gather tools and supplies. Well, except for Three, who shambled along looking grouchy. Meanwhile, Shimakaze had pulled out a tape measure and a clipboard.
"Right! First things first, we need to get some measurements! Oh, and do you mind telling me about..."
----------------------------------------------------
Things went surprisingly quickly. Once on the job, Shimakaze was extremely efficient and professional as she went about her work. She was the absolute model of an upstanding officer and ship, albeit one clad in a thong and micro-miniskirt, which Willie felt she would never get used to, no matter Shimakaze's reasoning on the matter.
First came a series of measurements. A bit of consultation with Willie about her internal compartments. Some consultation of a variety of manuals, and then careful sketching on sheets of paper which grew into schematics. Then the sounds of machining filled the air as Shimakaze went to work transforming a variety of materials she had gotten from... somewhere... into something that perfectly resembled one of Willie's turrets.
Except with flippers. And grooves for eyes and a smiley-face.
And now two shipgirls and three turrets stood around a workbench where a brand-new turret stood, silent and unmoving.
"What happens now?" Willie asks quietly.
Shimakaze looked up at her. "I have no idea whatsoever."
"Huh?!"
The blonde destroyer coughed awkwardly. "Well... I mean, maintenance aside, I've never actually built a turret from scratch before. And you know, my turrets came with me like this, it's not like I built them or anything." She scratched her head. "Um... I guess I assumed something would just happen?"
Willie stared down at the new turret, which had yet to do anything. Shimakaze started to fidget, while her three turrets had somehow gotten up on the bench, surveying the new creation curiously. Turret One looked up at Willie and tilted its head, gesturing at the construction. After a moment's hesitation, she reached out and picked it up.
Well... it certainly had heft to it. And it was well-made! She still wondered where Shimakaze had managed to get such tiny tools with which to craft it. However, nothing seemed to be happening.
"Try... hugging it maybe?" Shimakaze suggested hopefully. Willie complied. It wasn't very cuddly.
"Set it on your rig?" Shimakaze suggested next, looking like she was starting to sweat. Willie complied once more, setting the turret on her rigging. Nothing happened.
"Uh... maybe kiss it?" Shimakaze said, a note of desperation in her voice.
"Wh-what?!" Willie squeaked, flushing red.
"I dunno!" Shimakaze wailed. "Maybe your breath will breathe life into it and awaken it or something?! I just thought it would be obvious at this point!"
Groaning with hesitation, Willie hesitantly brought the immobile turret closer to her mouth before awkwardly pecking it on the 'forehead.' Turrets One and Two's flippers rushed to their mouths while they seemed to wobble in embarrassment, while Three... tilted its head in apparent interest. For good measure, Willie took a deep breath and breathed over the turrets structure before setting it down.
Nothing happened.
For five full minutes, nothing continued to happen.
"...I don't think it's gonna work," Shimakaze admitted quietly.
"Me neither," Willie admitted, taking the turret up again. It really was surprisingly well-made. "I mean, I don't feel anything from it, like I do the rest of my equipment."
"Oh." Shimakaze stared blearily at the tiny machine for a moment before slowly leaning forward until her face planted itself on the bench. "In other words: another failure." She sighed wearily.
"U-um!" Willie jumped and quickly rushed over to her friend's side. "I-I mean, it's not necessarily a failure!" The other turrets crowded around their mistress, looking worried. Even Number Three.
"It's not like it works properly," Shimakaze mumbled.
"Well, not like these guys do," Willie admitted, looking at the three living turrets. "But this thing... kinda feels right in my hand, you know? Like, maybe if you took away the flippers and stuff, I could use it as a spare... or even a main weapon! I mean it does feel pretty nice..."
"That's cool but..." Shimakaze looked up blearily. "I wanted to give you a nice present, you know? You always look so depressed, and I wanted to do something nice for you."
Willie blinked. "Really?"
"Yeah," the blonde destroyer sighed, standing straight. "I mean, you're always creeping around base like that. I get why, but I just wish you'd stop doing that. The past is past, you know?"
"I-I get that, but..." Willie considered the handcrafted turret carefully. Comments about the IJN's craftmanship aside, it was very well made. Maybe with some modifications she could actually use it? Made by a shipgirl... "You really just wanted to give me a present?"
"That's what friends do, right?" Shimakaze looked at her innocently.
Willie blushed, feeling like she was going to tear up. All that effort, and just so Shimakaze could do something nice for her? That... that was just so-
And that was when the door got kicked open. "SLUUUUUUUTAAAAAAKAAAAAZEEEEE!!!"
Sammy stomped in, eyes wild.
Willie paled, freezing in terror. The three turrets whipped around, pointing their barrels at the intruder while still managing to look very nervous. It was Shimakaze, standing very still, who voiced what they all were thinking. "Uh oh."
Samuel B. Roberts smiled her manic smile, breathing heavily, some odd sort of contraption on her shoulders. "Finally found you, you annoying, half-naked nipboat! I've been looking all over for you! Boy, you're hard to catch up to, you know that?"
"...I am built for speed," Shimakaze admitted, eyes flitting around nervously. Willie noted with a sinking feeling that there was no other exit.
"Yeah, you're one hell of a slippery Jap, now aren't ya?" Sammy went on with an increasingly cheerful tone of voice. The kind of cheerful that terrified. "But this time, I'm gonna use your own tricks against you!"
That brought Willie up short. "...You are?" The American destroyer didn't like the mad look in her fellow's eyes.
"That's right!" Sammy chirped, smile getting even broader. "I slipped in here and looked through some of your work! Sure is some weird stuff in here!" She giggled manically. "Buuuuuut I found something that's sure to let me stay caught up to you! Use the enemy's tricks against them, you know?"
Shimakaze blinked. "You did?" she asked blankly.
"You did...?" Willie echoed skeptically. Shimakaze was a dear friend, but some of the diagrams on the wall were less 'brilliantly inspired' and more 'drug-inspired'...
"That's right!" Sammy crowed. "So there's no getting away this time!" Her eyes gleamed with blood-madness and dark cheer. "So let's see what this fancy shit can do, huh?!" With a quick gesture, Sammy hit some sort of switch on the contraption and-
Two miniature rockets roared to life.
For a minute, the workshop was filled with the sound of two small propane tanks firing tiny jets of flame. That was about it.
Sammy's smile slowly turned brittle and then into dawning horror, like she was waking up from a terrible dream. The three turrets took in the scene before turning to one another and, as one, leapt off the table to scuttle solemnly away. Willie stared on with a strange feeling of pity in her heart. Shimakaze was completely unreadable.
After a long minute, the flames died away, and Sammy stood there in the workshop, a numb expression on her features. She looked at the odd rig on her shoulders as if seeing it for the first time.
"...That's one of my earliest proof-of-concept experiments," Shimakaze said quietly. "You read my notes and took it for yourself."
"...I did," Sammy said quietly, her voice stunned. "I..." she rubbed her forehead and leaned against a table. "I don't know what came over me. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, I just got so mad, all I could think about was getting my hands on you and around your throat..."
"You used my notes," Shimakaze pressed her.
"Yeah." Sammy shrugged the apparatus off, gazing down at it, and then herself, in slowly increasing horror. "I have no idea what I was thinking. Why I thought that was a good idea. I mean... goddamn, what was the matter with me?" With every moment, the DE was coming back to herself, looking a bit green around the gills.
"Um, are you okay?" Wilie asked nervously.
Sammy shuddered. "No. No, I don't think I am." She stared down at the bizarre creation in her hands, face crinkling with revulsion, before hurling it at the far wall. The Destroyer Escort choked a bit, like she was holding back vomit. Sammy wiped at her shoulders hurriedly. "Oh god. Oh dear god. I... touched JAP ENGINEERING. I was USING JAPANESE ENGINEERING. Oh sweet lord." She took a deep, steadying breath. "Okay. I don't think it got on me permanently. Okay."
Willie hesitated. "So... do you feel better now?"
Sammy rubbed her head. "I think so. Wow. Going off the edge like that makes you do some crazy shit, doesn't it?" Willie chose not to respond. The DE glanced down at her hands. "Though maybe I should get a bone saw, or maybe a cutting torch..." she murmured, filling Willie with panic.
And then slowly, carefully, Shimakaze made her way over to Sammy. She looked the confused DE in the eyes. And then threw her arms around the redhead in a tight hug.
"I have an apprentice!" Shimakaze squealed happily. "Oh, you adorable little thing! Now I know that I can't give up! Ever!"
Sammy went very still. Sammy went very rigid. Sammy's eyes got very, very wide. Slowly but steadily, a palpable aura of malice began to suffuse the room.
Shimakaze let go of the little girl and looked down at her. Sammy was still standing rigidly, but was beginning to tremble all over, face going from red to purple as an eyelid twitched and a vein began to stand out on her forehead. A sound came from her throat, like a kettle starting to boil. That sense of malice continued to escalate.
Seemingly nonchalantly, Shimakaze turned to look at Willie, eyes wide with restrained panic. "Willie?" she asked with tight calm. "Would you like to go somewhere else? Right now?"
"Yes!" Willie squeaked, power walking for the door. Shimakaze joined her, leaving Sammy behind to her steadily escalating rage.
As the two left the workshop and hurried away, Shimakaze turned her eyes skyward. "You know, it's such a nice day for a good jog." Woodenly, Willie nodded her agreement.
Behind them, a scream of bloodcurdling rage spilled forth from the workshop, and the two decided to make it an impromptu sprint, instead.
------------------------------------------
"How long until she calms down do you think?" Shimakaze asked some time later, as the two looked at store displays.
"Um... give her some time to work it out of her system, and then to eat some ice cream..." the American destroyer mulled it over. "Just... don't go back to your shop tonight, okay?"
"Sound tactic," Shimakaze nodded, looking thoughtfully at some sweaters. "Those look so cuddly, but they'd add so much weight..."
Willie sighed, looking around some of the displays. A bit away, she recognized the Destroyer Yuudachi, the one who'd picked out that thing Willie refused to let herself think about moving on nevermind. Yuudachi appeared to be looking at-
The American destroyer blinked. "Hey, Shimakaze?"
"Hm?"
"About your outfit."
"I'm not changing it," the blonde grumbled. "I don't care what people think I look like, I'm not sacrificing performance for fashion mores."
"Just come over here," Willie insisted, taking her friend by the hand and pulling her over to Yuudachi.
The black-clad destroyer looked up in surprise as the two of them walked over. "Oh! Good evening, poi!"
Willie walked up to her before releasing Shimakaze. "Hi. Um, those are sarongs, right?"
"Yeah, I always thought hey looked kinda nice... poi..." Yuudachi trailed off, looking Willie deep in the eyes. As one, they turned to stare at Shimakaze, who stared back.
"What?" the bethonged one asked.
Willie and Yuudachi turned to look at one another, understanding glimmering in Yuudachi's eyes. "Hey, Shimakaze," Willie said slowly, "What color do you like wearing?"
"They say red makes you go faster, poi!" Yuudachi said brightly.
Shimakaze frowned. "That's silly. I think you read the wrong internet sites, Yuudachi. I like blue, since you're asking."
Silently, Willie looked through the sarongs on display before reaching out and picking up a plain one about the same color as Shimakaze's skirt. She handed it to Yuudachi, who took the cloth and walked over to said Destroyer. Carefully folding the cloth, Yuudachi wrapped it around Shimakaze's waist, making sure to tug it above the thong straps before tying it off to one side. When the black-dressed destroyer finally stepped back, Shimakaze had a gauzy layer of material wrapped loosely around her, going down almost to her knees.
It concealed a lot more, which made all the difference to Willie.
Shimakaze stared down at it, then looked up at the other two. "Will this get everyone off my back, then?"
Yuudachi smiled. "It's lightweight, I can show you how to tie it on, and it's easy to pull off when you go out on maneuvers, poi!" she said enthusiastically.
"Y-yeah!" Willie said urgently. "I mean, um, I'm a friend, and this is a gift from a friend, so..." she hesitated a long moment before blurting everything out in a rush. "I really like you but that outfit is really bothering a lot of people so P-P-PLEASE JUST WEAR A LITTLE BIT MORE!"
"What she said, poi," Yuudachi nodded.
Shimakaze heaved a sigh. Then she chuckled. "Well, fine. I can live with this. After all, can't say no to a gift from a friend, now can I?" She winked at Willie, who giggled, blushing.
And that was how Willie got Shimakaze to wear more clothing. Marginally.
"So, let me see if I understand you clearly," Fubuki said slowly as she strolled along with Willie. "First of all, you got Shimakaze to understand how indecent her clothes were."
"W-well, she didn't care all that much, but yes," Willie nodded in confirmation.
"Secondly, you got her to wear more clothing," Fubuki continued, giving Willie a long look.
"Um. Yeah. It's just a sarong, though."
Fubuki stopped in her tracks and stared at the American destroyer. "Wow. I'm honestly impressed."
"H-huh?" Willie blinked in confusion.
They started walking again. "Do you have any idea how many people have tried to get that girl to change up her wardrobe?" Fubuki asked, laughing weakly. "Everyone from the Admiral... Goto, that is... down to me has taken a shot and gotten nowhere. Poor Amatsukaze was practically ripping her hair out over it! And then you show up, and bam! It's done!"
"W-w-well, I had a bit of help from, um, I-19."
Fubuki was silent for a moment at that. "Do I really want to know?"
"No," Willie said firmly.
"Didn't think so," Fubuki sighed. "Well, never mind. And you said she made you a new turret?"
"Yeah. She wanted to make one like hers, but that didn't pan out. But it works just fine as a regular weapon!" Willie hesitated. "W-well, one with a smiley face on the front of it, anyway. Actually, I think it might work a little bit better, but that might just be my imagination."
"So Shimakaze can make destroyer turrets," Fubuki mused as they came upon the warehouse containing the blonde destroyer's workshop. "The Admirals are gonna want to hear about that."
Willie nodded wordlessly, contemplating the building. There were a few large dents in the side, almost as though something super-strong had gone on a rage-fueled rampage inside...
Well, might as well be honest. Sammy had definitely gone ballistic inside. Fortunately, it seemed that Shimakaze had quickly put things back to rights.
Speaking of whom, the sounds of work from inside clearly indicated that the destroyer in question was indeed present. With a glance at each other, Willie and Fubuki stepped forward and made their way into Shimakaze's house of controlled madness.
It... really didn't look as bad as Willie had feared. A few things were in new positions, and the walls were definitely dented, but otherwise it looked much the same as when she had last visited. In the center of the clutter was... Shimakaze? It was the right height and build anyway. But while Shimakaze liked jogging around in her not-quite sailor outfit, this figure was wearing tan coveralls, gloves, a welding mask, and had her hair tied back by a black ribbon. Grease stains covered the figure as she worked away at some manner of engine hanging from the ceiling.
As Fubuki tilted in head in confused interest, the blonde figure shut down her welding torch and nodded in satisfaction. "I think it's coming along nicely," Shimakaze's voice commented to one of the Rensouhou-chans, who squeaked in confirmation.
Fubuki stared blankly. "Shimakaze?"
Shimakaze glanced over at the two of them, pulling off her welding mask. "Oh, hi you two! Come on in!" She favored them with a cheerful smile and wave.
Fubuki moved in carefully, looking around the workshop warily. "Shimakaze... you're wearing clothes."
The blonde destroyer blinked. "I always wear-" she cut herself off, glaring at Fubuki. "Oh, not you too!" she complained.
Fubuki raised her hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, hey, I approve!" she insisted. "Uh, this is... a good look for you? It's very practical!"
Shimakaze kept glaring. She raised one hand. "First of all, performance, yadda yadda, I've said all that already." She used the other to tug away at her coveralls. "Second, I'm not going to get grease stains all over my regular clothes. Cut me a break already!"
Willie crept forward to look at the engine. "She has a point. I half-expected you to be working in those cutoff jeans or something..."
Shimakaze sighed. "Am I the only one who knows about professional safety standards?"
Fubuki joined Willie in surveying the engine. "What are you working on, anyway?"
"Oh this?" Shimakaze patted the engine carefully. "I'm making a new engine design. I want to see if I can take the basics of my high-pressure boilers, but adapt them for gas turbines. I want to adapt as much modern technology to myself as I possibly can."
"For more speed," Willie realized.
"Yep!" Shimakaze chirped. "And before you ask, no. This is just a test prototype, I'm not planning on trying to stick it in my body."
"Okay," Willie sighed with relief. "I... really wasn't sure about that."
Fubuki stared at the prototype long and hard. "This is a miniaturized version of a full-scale destroyer engine," she said flatly.
"What?" said Willie.
"Yep!" said Shimakaze.
Fubuki stared at it even harder. "You made a miniature version of a naval engine, and got all the proportions perfect."
"Sure did!" Shimakaze said happily.
"...How?" Willie asked in wonder.
"My crew helped," the blonde replied simply.
"Your WHAT?!" Fubuki and Willie yelped. On cue, a tiny head peeked out from one of the engine compartments, gave a cheery little wave and "Desu!", and ducked back inside. The two destroyers stared.
Shimakaze shrugged. "Hey, they can handle all the little fiddly bits. I figure they can study the design, and that'll help when it's time to upgrade me."
Willie stared blankly for a long moment, feeling that odd vertigo that occurred whenever she tried to reconcile her dual existence as 'small girl,' and 'military vessel.' Fortunately, Fubuki saved her from this mild existential crisis.
"Nope, not touching this one," Fubuki said with a firm shake of her head. "So! I understand you built a new gun for Willie from scratch!"
"Yeah, I sure did!" Shimakaze said proudly.
"I was just telling her," Willie agreed.
"And did you get any insights on weapons design from doing that?" Fubuki pressed.
"Wait, what?" Willie blinked.
"Yeah, I got a couple ideas from studying the schematic," Shimakaze nodded.
"What schematic?!" Willie yelped, feeling a bit alarmed.
"I drew one from memory," Shimakaze told her.
Fubuki leaned forward. "I don't suppose you got any ideas for anti-air gunnery, did you?"
Shimakaze narrowed her eyes. "Is this about Akagi?"
Fubuki blushed, giggling. "W-well, you know-"
"ST-STOOOOOOOOOP!" Willie wailed, blushed furiously. "Stop going over my schematics like that! I-it's embarrassing!"
"Oh, er," Fubuki stuttered a bit, looking chagrined. "I didn't mean it like that! I mean, I want to be really good at escorting an awesome carrier like Akagi, and Harder's been drilling me in ASW, and I was just thinking if you Yank- I mean Americans had some ideas on AA fire, it'd be helpful, you know!" She pressed her fingers together, looking deeply embarrassed.
Shimakaze thought it over for a moment. "Isn't getting embarrassed over our schematics kinda weird?"
"I don't caaaaaaaare!" Willie moaned, flailing her arms.
"Hey, I took one look at pictures of me on the ocean floor and puked my guts out," Fubuki commented. "I see where she's coming from."
Shimakaze thought it over. "Point. Let's just stop talking about it." Reaching an arm out, Shimakaze let a small troop of tiny figures march up her arm while Fubuki and Willie looked away awkwardly. "Anyway, about that, Fubuki. You and Akagi, I mean. How many ships are you calling sempai now, anyway? I mean, there's Akagi, and Yamato, Kongou... I thought you were starting a collection for a while."
"Er... well..." Fubuki's face turned deep red once again. "I mean, you gotta learn from the best, right?"
"But this is practically a habit for you?" Shimakaze pressed. "I was half-expecting you to latch on to one of the American-" she was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Yes, come on!" The door opened, and a new figure strode in.
Willie's first thought was that this new figure reminded her a great deal of Shimakaze. The face was nearly identical, although the hair was even paler, a shade of silver that reminded Willie of Shoukaku. An odd pair of hairtubes maintained a pair of ponytails on either side of the girl's flowing locks, while a tiny hat resembling a smokestack was perched on her head. The long red socks reminded her of Shimakaze as well, though these fortunately had far fewer stripes. A simple black dress and a confident, stern bearing gave the girl a professional demeanor.
Fubuki blinked. "Oh, hi Amatsukaze-"
"AMMY!" Shimakaze squealed joyfully, leaping towards the newcomer with outstretched arms. She froze a foot away from making contact, looking down at her grease-stained outfit in dismay. "Aw."
Amatsukaze untensed, sighing with relief. "Thank you for your consideration, Shimakaze. Hello, Fubuki. Hello, um..." she paused upon seeing Willie.
"Let me do the introductions!" Shimakaze said, beaming. "Ammy, this is Willie, I've told you about her. Willie, this is Amatsukaze, my big sister!"
Willie hesitated. "But I thought you were the only ship of your class?"
"It's the boilers," Amatsukaze explained. "My boilers were the prototypes for what eventually went into Shimakaze. It's hard not to feel a familial connection to her." She glanced over at the blonde destroyer, frowned, and pulled out a cloth to start wiping at Shimakaze's face. "Though I do wish you would keep yourself clean," she muttered.
"Mmph, cut it out!" Shimakaze pouted. "I was working!"
"Oh, on this," Amatsukaze said with interest, looking at the engine. "How is that coming along, anyway? Oh, and Miss Porter!" She turned to Willie with a glowing expression. "I hear you've finally gotten my dear sister to start dressing decently! I am in your debt!"
Shimakaze's eyebrow twitched, and Willie thought she could hear the sound of something snapping. "Okay. I've heard more than enough of people complaining about my outfit. And you're one to talk, Miss Transparent Dress!"
Amatsukaze froze.
"Hoo boy, I'm out of here," Fubuki said, her face assuming a familiar expression. Wheeling for the exit, she pulled the American destroyer along with her. "Come on, Willie."
"My dress is not transparent!" Amatsukaze was complaining, face a deep crimson. "Take a look! It's perfectly opaque!"
"Yeah, this one," Shimakaze retorted. "I seem to recall the one you came back with was awfully sheer. If you looked at it right-"
"Th-that was just because my boilers run hot, and I needed something that breathed well! Besides, didn't I change it up as soon as I realized there was a problem?!"
"It sure took you a while, though. Besides, if you'd just worn that outfit I got for you-"
"That was nothing more than a miniskirt and a halter top! It was hardly decent!"
"Still better than the see-through wonder."
"You're giving ME criticism on my wardrobe?!"
"Hey, my outfit would've given you better performance."
Fubuki shut the door firmly behind them, shaking her head. Willie gave her a curious stare. The special-type destroyer just chuckled weakly. "It's an old argument. You're better off staying out of it."
The two destroyers walked away, the sounds of bickering still audible behind them "W-was Amatsukaze's outfit really that bad?" Willie asked.
"The old one? It sure was." Fubuki snorted in amusement. "Let's just say, those two really are sisters. Know what I mean?" Shaking her head, the Japanese destroyer lead the way.
"W-well, she didn't care all that much, but yes," Willie nodded in confirmation.
"Secondly, you got her to wear more clothing," Fubuki continued, giving Willie a long look.
"Um. Yeah. It's just a sarong, though."
Fubuki stopped in her tracks and stared at the American destroyer. "Wow. I'm honestly impressed."
"H-huh?" Willie blinked in confusion.
They started walking again. "Do you have any idea how many people have tried to get that girl to change up her wardrobe?" Fubuki asked, laughing weakly. "Everyone from the Admiral... Goto, that is... down to me has taken a shot and gotten nowhere. Poor Amatsukaze was practically ripping her hair out over it! And then you show up, and bam! It's done!"
"W-w-well, I had a bit of help from, um, I-19."
Fubuki was silent for a moment at that. "Do I really want to know?"
"No," Willie said firmly.
"Didn't think so," Fubuki sighed. "Well, never mind. And you said she made you a new turret?"
"Yeah. She wanted to make one like hers, but that didn't pan out. But it works just fine as a regular weapon!" Willie hesitated. "W-well, one with a smiley face on the front of it, anyway. Actually, I think it might work a little bit better, but that might just be my imagination."
"So Shimakaze can make destroyer turrets," Fubuki mused as they came upon the warehouse containing the blonde destroyer's workshop. "The Admirals are gonna want to hear about that."
Willie nodded wordlessly, contemplating the building. There were a few large dents in the side, almost as though something super-strong had gone on a rage-fueled rampage inside...
Well, might as well be honest. Sammy had definitely gone ballistic inside. Fortunately, it seemed that Shimakaze had quickly put things back to rights.
Speaking of whom, the sounds of work from inside clearly indicated that the destroyer in question was indeed present. With a glance at each other, Willie and Fubuki stepped forward and made their way into Shimakaze's house of controlled madness.
It... really didn't look as bad as Willie had feared. A few things were in new positions, and the walls were definitely dented, but otherwise it looked much the same as when she had last visited. In the center of the clutter was... Shimakaze? It was the right height and build anyway. But while Shimakaze liked jogging around in her not-quite sailor outfit, this figure was wearing tan coveralls, gloves, a welding mask, and had her hair tied back by a black ribbon. Grease stains covered the figure as she worked away at some manner of engine hanging from the ceiling.
As Fubuki tilted in head in confused interest, the blonde figure shut down her welding torch and nodded in satisfaction. "I think it's coming along nicely," Shimakaze's voice commented to one of the Rensouhou-chans, who squeaked in confirmation.
Fubuki stared blankly. "Shimakaze?"
Shimakaze glanced over at the two of them, pulling off her welding mask. "Oh, hi you two! Come on in!" She favored them with a cheerful smile and wave.
Fubuki moved in carefully, looking around the workshop warily. "Shimakaze... you're wearing clothes."
The blonde destroyer blinked. "I always wear-" she cut herself off, glaring at Fubuki. "Oh, not you too!" she complained.
Fubuki raised her hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, hey, I approve!" she insisted. "Uh, this is... a good look for you? It's very practical!"
Shimakaze kept glaring. She raised one hand. "First of all, performance, yadda yadda, I've said all that already." She used the other to tug away at her coveralls. "Second, I'm not going to get grease stains all over my regular clothes. Cut me a break already!"
Willie crept forward to look at the engine. "She has a point. I half-expected you to be working in those cutoff jeans or something..."
Shimakaze sighed. "Am I the only one who knows about professional safety standards?"
Fubuki joined Willie in surveying the engine. "What are you working on, anyway?"
"Oh this?" Shimakaze patted the engine carefully. "I'm making a new engine design. I want to see if I can take the basics of my high-pressure boilers, but adapt them for gas turbines. I want to adapt as much modern technology to myself as I possibly can."
"For more speed," Willie realized.
"Yep!" Shimakaze chirped. "And before you ask, no. This is just a test prototype, I'm not planning on trying to stick it in my body."
"Okay," Willie sighed with relief. "I... really wasn't sure about that."
Fubuki stared at the prototype long and hard. "This is a miniaturized version of a full-scale destroyer engine," she said flatly.
"What?" said Willie.
"Yep!" said Shimakaze.
Fubuki stared at it even harder. "You made a miniature version of a naval engine, and got all the proportions perfect."
"Sure did!" Shimakaze said happily.
"...How?" Willie asked in wonder.
"My crew helped," the blonde replied simply.
"Your WHAT?!" Fubuki and Willie yelped. On cue, a tiny head peeked out from one of the engine compartments, gave a cheery little wave and "Desu!", and ducked back inside. The two destroyers stared.
Shimakaze shrugged. "Hey, they can handle all the little fiddly bits. I figure they can study the design, and that'll help when it's time to upgrade me."
Willie stared blankly for a long moment, feeling that odd vertigo that occurred whenever she tried to reconcile her dual existence as 'small girl,' and 'military vessel.' Fortunately, Fubuki saved her from this mild existential crisis.
"Nope, not touching this one," Fubuki said with a firm shake of her head. "So! I understand you built a new gun for Willie from scratch!"
"Yeah, I sure did!" Shimakaze said proudly.
"I was just telling her," Willie agreed.
"And did you get any insights on weapons design from doing that?" Fubuki pressed.
"Wait, what?" Willie blinked.
"Yeah, I got a couple ideas from studying the schematic," Shimakaze nodded.
"What schematic?!" Willie yelped, feeling a bit alarmed.
"I drew one from memory," Shimakaze told her.
Fubuki leaned forward. "I don't suppose you got any ideas for anti-air gunnery, did you?"
Shimakaze narrowed her eyes. "Is this about Akagi?"
Fubuki blushed, giggling. "W-well, you know-"
"ST-STOOOOOOOOOP!" Willie wailed, blushed furiously. "Stop going over my schematics like that! I-it's embarrassing!"
"Oh, er," Fubuki stuttered a bit, looking chagrined. "I didn't mean it like that! I mean, I want to be really good at escorting an awesome carrier like Akagi, and Harder's been drilling me in ASW, and I was just thinking if you Yank- I mean Americans had some ideas on AA fire, it'd be helpful, you know!" She pressed her fingers together, looking deeply embarrassed.
Shimakaze thought it over for a moment. "Isn't getting embarrassed over our schematics kinda weird?"
"I don't caaaaaaaare!" Willie moaned, flailing her arms.
"Hey, I took one look at pictures of me on the ocean floor and puked my guts out," Fubuki commented. "I see where she's coming from."
Shimakaze thought it over. "Point. Let's just stop talking about it." Reaching an arm out, Shimakaze let a small troop of tiny figures march up her arm while Fubuki and Willie looked away awkwardly. "Anyway, about that, Fubuki. You and Akagi, I mean. How many ships are you calling sempai now, anyway? I mean, there's Akagi, and Yamato, Kongou... I thought you were starting a collection for a while."
"Er... well..." Fubuki's face turned deep red once again. "I mean, you gotta learn from the best, right?"
"But this is practically a habit for you?" Shimakaze pressed. "I was half-expecting you to latch on to one of the American-" she was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Yes, come on!" The door opened, and a new figure strode in.
Willie's first thought was that this new figure reminded her a great deal of Shimakaze. The face was nearly identical, although the hair was even paler, a shade of silver that reminded Willie of Shoukaku. An odd pair of hairtubes maintained a pair of ponytails on either side of the girl's flowing locks, while a tiny hat resembling a smokestack was perched on her head. The long red socks reminded her of Shimakaze as well, though these fortunately had far fewer stripes. A simple black dress and a confident, stern bearing gave the girl a professional demeanor.
Fubuki blinked. "Oh, hi Amatsukaze-"
"AMMY!" Shimakaze squealed joyfully, leaping towards the newcomer with outstretched arms. She froze a foot away from making contact, looking down at her grease-stained outfit in dismay. "Aw."
Amatsukaze untensed, sighing with relief. "Thank you for your consideration, Shimakaze. Hello, Fubuki. Hello, um..." she paused upon seeing Willie.
"Let me do the introductions!" Shimakaze said, beaming. "Ammy, this is Willie, I've told you about her. Willie, this is Amatsukaze, my big sister!"
Willie hesitated. "But I thought you were the only ship of your class?"
"It's the boilers," Amatsukaze explained. "My boilers were the prototypes for what eventually went into Shimakaze. It's hard not to feel a familial connection to her." She glanced over at the blonde destroyer, frowned, and pulled out a cloth to start wiping at Shimakaze's face. "Though I do wish you would keep yourself clean," she muttered.
"Mmph, cut it out!" Shimakaze pouted. "I was working!"
"Oh, on this," Amatsukaze said with interest, looking at the engine. "How is that coming along, anyway? Oh, and Miss Porter!" She turned to Willie with a glowing expression. "I hear you've finally gotten my dear sister to start dressing decently! I am in your debt!"
Shimakaze's eyebrow twitched, and Willie thought she could hear the sound of something snapping. "Okay. I've heard more than enough of people complaining about my outfit. And you're one to talk, Miss Transparent Dress!"
Amatsukaze froze.
"Hoo boy, I'm out of here," Fubuki said, her face assuming a familiar expression. Wheeling for the exit, she pulled the American destroyer along with her. "Come on, Willie."
"My dress is not transparent!" Amatsukaze was complaining, face a deep crimson. "Take a look! It's perfectly opaque!"
"Yeah, this one," Shimakaze retorted. "I seem to recall the one you came back with was awfully sheer. If you looked at it right-"
"Th-that was just because my boilers run hot, and I needed something that breathed well! Besides, didn't I change it up as soon as I realized there was a problem?!"
"It sure took you a while, though. Besides, if you'd just worn that outfit I got for you-"
"That was nothing more than a miniskirt and a halter top! It was hardly decent!"
"Still better than the see-through wonder."
"You're giving ME criticism on my wardrobe?!"
"Hey, my outfit would've given you better performance."
Fubuki shut the door firmly behind them, shaking her head. Willie gave her a curious stare. The special-type destroyer just chuckled weakly. "It's an old argument. You're better off staying out of it."
The two destroyers walked away, the sounds of bickering still audible behind them "W-was Amatsukaze's outfit really that bad?" Willie asked.
"The old one? It sure was." Fubuki snorted in amusement. "Let's just say, those two really are sisters. Know what I mean?" Shaking her head, the Japanese destroyer lead the way.
Silently, William D. Porter, American Fletcher-class destroyer, padded through the streets of Yokosuka Naval Base. The battle was over. The day was won. And all it had cost were numerous human casualties. All of her fellow shipgirls had come back alive, but not necessarily intact.
She heaved a sigh, remembering Destroyer Division 6. The four girls, usually so energetic and excitable, friendly to an almost intimidating degree, had been horribly upset. They knew that Tenryuu and Tatsuta had been badly injured, they knew that the two were in intensive care, but they four had not been permitted to see them. Willie shuddered to think of what had happened to the two light cruisers. As for DesDiv 6, they had been in tears, even the normally unflappable Hibiki unable to hide damp eyes as they wondered out loud what was wrong with their two caretakers.
Meanwhile, Kongou was messing around with a webcam.
One or the other had finally convinced Willie to take her leave of the dorms, and so she continued to walk, slowly realizing that she was heading towards Shimakaze's workshop. The realization didn't surprise her. She really needed a friend right now.
Finally reaching the workshop, Willie raised a hand to knock on the metal door when she heard some sort of commotion from within. Some sort of muffled shouting, and... that wasn't Shimakaze's voice. It sounded like a panicked Amatsukaze! Visions of the recent battle and its terrible toll danced through Willie's head, as well as the countless things that could go wrong in a machine shop, especially when you were as ambitious as Shimakaze. Combined with the frantic squeaking of fairies, and Amatasukaze's hysteric shouting, horrible visions thrust themselves into her imagination. What if Shimakaze had...! No. NO!
Filled with sudden panic, Willie seized the doorknob, pulled when she should have pushed while simultaneously leaping forward, and managed to faceplant into the metal door hard enough to give it a new dent.
Ouch.
There was a sudden silence from within as Willie whimpered in humiliated pain, the dribble of blood down her face as well as an embarrassed damage report coming from within letting her know that yes, she was going to have to visit the repair yard to get that fixed. The repair yard with that scary man with the angry eyes.
"Hello...?" Amatsukaze's tentative voice came from within. Slowly, Willie pushed the door open the right way, pinching her nose to keep the bleeding to a minimum.
"Hebbo," she said miserably, before the scene before her finally managed to register.
Shimakaze's experimental engine hung from the ceiling, looking far further along than the last time Willie had been down here. Amatsukaze stood to one side, while a troop of fairies were all across its surface, bearing an array of tools that they were apparently wielding in assistance of Shimakaze.
Shimakaze, whose mouth was wrapped around and apparently stuck to some sort of protrusion sticking out of the engine. The Japanese destroyer waved sheepishly.
Willie stared. "Wud?"
Amatsukaze raised a finger. "In fact, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this." She glanced down at Shimakaze and sighed. "...I take that back. There is in fact a really stupid explanation for this." Shimakaze just glared back. The silver-haired destroyer was about to say more when she took in Willie's condition and gasped. "Oh my goodness! Willie, are you all right?"
Willie's shoulders slumped. "I hurd by dose," she murmured. By running into a door, she added to herself. Again.
"Oh..." eyes shimmering with concern, Amatsukaze grabbed a clean rag and rushed over to Willie's side, carefully pressing the fabric against her damaged nose. "Come on in, dear. Does it hurt? Don't worry, Shimakaze will get you all patched up, right as soon as... um, as soon as we get her loose." From where her mouth was stuck around... something, bulging out at the sides, the blonde destroyer, glanced away, blushing slightly.
"Wud habbened?" Willie wondered out loud, watching as the fairies pushed tiny metal levers into the sides of Shimakaze's mouth, trying to pry her loose.
"Our dear Shimakaze finally succeeded in making a new engine," Amatsukaze explained, a trace of pride in her voice.
"Wud?!" Willie yelped.
"It's true," the silver-haired destroyer said in wonderment. "She really did it. It worked." Shimakaze squawked in pain as her fairies finally pried her loose with a POP! "Of course, then came the question of how she was going to get it into her body."
The American destroyer considered this for a moment, looking at her Japanese friend, who was rubbing her sore mouth. "...You twied to ed it?"
"Not at first!" Shimakaze protested. "I mean... it works! The engine really works!" She patted the machine with enthusiasm. "But it doesn't do me any good just hanging from the ceiling, right? So, um... I tried hugging it, to see if I could absorb it or something. I couldn't."
"Though it was adorable seeing you hugging your creation," Amatsukaze quipped.
"Well, um, that didn't work," Shimakaze said with an awkward blush. "So, I even tried unzipping my coveralls and pressing it against my bare stomach-"
"And I am SO glad nobody else saw that," Amatsukaze interrupted, facepalming.
"-and when that didn't work, I got a little frustrated, and tried, um..."
"She tried to swallow it and her mouth got stuck," Amatsukaze finished.
"...yeah," Shimakaze agreed sheepishly. There was a moment of silence. "So. What happened to you?"
Willie paused. "I walged indo a door."
The blonde destroyer nodded. "I won't tell if you don't."
"'Kay," Willie agreed.
Amatsukaze smiled sweetly. "My lips are sealed as well."
Shimakaze sighed. "Well... Willie, hop up on a bench. I'll get some tools and do something about your nose."
"Hm?" Willie queried as Amatsukaze lead her over to a bench. The silver-locked destroyer helped her up and patted Willie on the head reassuringly.
"Don't worry, I come to Shimmy for minor repairs all the time!" she insisted.
"You gan do dab?!" Willie exclaimed as Shimakaze came over with some tools in hand.
"Well, a little bit," Shimakaze said as she set to work, raising her voice over the sound of power tools. "Little stuff like this is no problem, but anything serious, you really need to see the repair yards. I just do minor things for myself and Ammy. It's no big deal."
"It started a while back, after she met Crab that one time," Amatsukaze added. She smirked. "To repeat, that 'one' time."
"He is such a jerk," Shimakaze grumbled as she worked on Willie's nose. "Wouldn't stop giving me grief about how I dress. Heck with him, I'm never going back there if I can help it." Her eyes flicked up to Willie. "Same goes for you. Anything small like this, feel free to come to me, okay?"
"Okay," Willie replied, careful to hold still. "Have you told the Admiral that you do things like this?"
Shimakaze paused. She looked up at Willie. "Um. I really don't want to be a dedicated repair ship, okay? Experimental stuff, minor maintenance, that's one thing. Doing nothing else but repairs? That's really..."
"Slow?" Amatsukaze suggested with a giggle.
"Something like that," Shimakaze muttered, wiping at Willie's nose. "And don't say a word about how I dress. I know you still have that old translucent outfit."
Amatsukaze flushed a deep red. "I-I can't just throw away a piece of myself like that! And besides, I dress like a dignified lady should these days!" She folded her arms with a huff.
Shimakaze considered her work before glancing over at Amatsukaze. "Goto might pay more attention to you if you wore the old one," she said gently.
Amatsukaze looked away. "...Admiral Goto has enough Dess in his life already. And you know how he feels about destroyers." Shimakaze just sighed in response.
...Willie concluded that there were some things you just didn't ask about.
After another moment Shimakaze stood back, nodding in satisfaction. "Okay! How do you feel Willie?"
Willie gingerly touched her nose and blinked in surprise. "I-I feel fine!" she exclaimed.
Amatsukaze peered closely before nodding. "It looks perfect. Excellent work as always, sister!"
Shimakaze preened. "I do pride myself on my work!"
"Um, about that..." Willie glanced over at the mechanism hanging from the ceiling. "Does this thing really work?"
The blonde destroyer grinned hugely. "Why don't you see for yourself? C'mon!" Eagerly, she pulled Willie over to the engine as her fairies cleared the area. A few adjustments were made, switches were flipped, and soon the throaty roar of an engine filled the room. Willie just stared on in wonder. Shimakaze had actually made something that wor-
No. Bad Willie, she admonished herself. What a terribly mean thing to say. The gun Shimmy had made worked perfectly, didn't it?
After a few minutes to take some readings, Shimakaze shut down the motor and turned to Willie, beaming. "So? What'd you think?!"
"Coooool..." Willie breathed.
"Well done, Shimmy!" Amatsukaze clapped her hands enthusiastically.
"That is certainly very impressive!" said a fourth voice.
"Thanks, Yamato," Shimakaze nodded, turning back to her engine. "The problem is, this is really just proof-of-concept. The real problem is getting a working version inside me, or really any one of us and that's..." she trailed off, realizing something. "Huh?" The three destroyers turned their heads to the door.
Standing there, wearing a ridiculous trenchcoat and hat, sunglasses in one hand and a clipboard in the other stood Yamato, smiling sweetly. "Hello, Shimakaze! I hear you've been doing a lot of work here!"
Willie and Amatsukaze turned to the blonde destroyer, who was sweating visibly. "Um."
"So, um..." Yamato carefully walked into the room, looking everything over with interest. "I didn't realize that you were such an engineer! But scuttlebutt had it that you actually made Miss Porter here a gun turret from scratch!" She winked at Willie, who squeaked in response.
"Um," Shimakaze replied, looking around nervously.
"And then there's this!" Yamato looked at the new engine in wonderment. "Not to mention, I heard a rumor that you do... repair work?" She smiled at the smaller girl.
Shimakaze stared back, an expression of sick horror spreading over her face. Her eyes slid over to Amatsukaze, who had found something fascinating on the far wall to observe.
Yamato cleared her throat. "You know, we do need any number of people qualified to work on us ships..." she let the statement hang in the air, a suggestion tinged with the vague suggestion of authority.
Willie looked over at Shimakaze, whose expression suggested that she felt like she was facing a firing squad. Honestly, a speedster like her being relegated to repair duty, or having it dumped upon her regular duties, was probably a horrifying proposition.
However, as William D. Porter looked on, Shimakaze's eyes suddenly flashed, a look of pure determination spreading over her face. The small girl gazed hard and firm at the much larger battleship.
"I have one condition," she said sternly.
"Hm? What's that?" Yamato asked, eyes lighting up.
"I want to be part of the shipgirl upgrade project I know is going on. I'll start with you."
Yamato blinked, suddenly taken off guard. "M-m-me?" she stammered.
"That's right." Shimakaze's eyes narrowed. "I'd like to cut you for speed."
There was a deep, deep silence. "...Speed?" Yamato echoed weakly.
"That's right." Turning sharply, Shimakaze stalked over to the laptop sitting in the corner. Bringing up the web-browser, she punched in two words:
MICRO BIKINI
Seizing the computer, Shimakaze thrust it towards Yamato like a holy icon. "Here. This design should maximize your tactical speed. Would you like it in red?"
As Yamato stared at the 'bathing suit' displayed on the screen, she underwent a remarkable transformation. Her eyes got very, very wide. Her face got very, very red. And a high-pitched squeak of utter embarrassment began squeezing out of her throat. Finally, the dam broke.
"OhgeesorrylookatthetimeIgottagowe'lljustforgetaboutthisIreallyhavetoleavenowkaybyethanksBYE!" Bowing rapidly enough to make her ponytail lash like a panicking snake, Yamato burst out the door and fled as quickly as her mortified legs could carry her.
In the ensuing silence, Shimakaze put her computer back down. "Well. I guess that did make her faster."
"Could they really use your help at the repair yards though?" Amatsukaze wondered out loud.
Shimakaze narrowed her eyes. "Ammy? Remember when you talked to me about secrets, and how to keep them?"
Amatsukaze paused. "...I'm going to go check after Yamato, and make sure she's, um, fine," the silver-haired destroyer murmured, quietly making her way out of the building. This left Willie and Shimakaze alone.
"L-loose lips sink ships?" Willie suggested awkwardly.
"Or get them stuck in the repair yard?" Shimakaze commented. "Oh well. That should be the end of that."
"So, what about this engine?" Willie asked, turning to the object in question.
"That's the thing." Shimakaze heaved a deep sigh. "I can't absorb it or anything. It's too big for me to simply stick into my body somehow. Which means the only option is for me to somehow summon my full body like I hear happened with Akagi and Yuudachi, and have a full-size version put in."
"Which means making a full-size version," Willie noted.
"Yeah, which probably isn't going to happen." Shimakaze sighed again. "Oh well. I'll think of something. Do you wanna go get something to eat?"
Willie smiled. "Sure!"
"Cool! Then just let me get changed and cleaned up, and maybe we can track down Ammy to go with us!"
---------------------------------------------------------
A little while later, Shimakaze and Willie strode through the halls of the dorms headed for Amatsukaze's room, the blonde back in her regular outfit (which now included the sarong, much to Willie's relief).
"She didn't answer her phone?" Willie asked.
"Probably forgot to recharge it or something?" Shimakaze shrugged. "Oh well. Here's her room." Coming upon a door with Amatsukaze's name helpfully written on the nameplate, Shimakaze seized the knob and let herself in, mouth open to call out to her almost-sister when she stopped in place, eyes widening in surprise. Curious, Willie peered past her to see what was wrong. Seconds later, the American destroyer felt her face heating up in embarrassment.
Amatsukaze was standing in front of a full-body mirror. Except 'posing' would be a better word. She looked at her reflection confidently, a faintly pleased smile playing about her lips. As for her clothing, it somewhat resembled her regular outfit. Save for the fact that it could be more accurately described as a mini-skirt and halter.
"You know, I think I've still got it..." she murmured to herself, reaching out to pick up another outfit, one far more similar to her regular clothing, albeit noticeably more... transparent. Then she glanced too the side and noticed Willie and Shimakaze staring at her.
Amatsukaze froze, face going as pale as a sheet.
In the ensuing silence, Willie found her hands rising to cover her face, while Shimakaze's mouth fell open in a huge, happy smile.
The next instant, Amatsukaze surged forward, seizing both destroyers and pulling them close. "YOU. SAW. NOTHING," she rasped, eyes full of barely-restrained malice.
"N-N-N-N-N-N-N-NOTHING!" Willie shrieked.
"Whatever you say, sis~!" Shimakaze chirped, nodding agreeably.
Amatsukaze searched both their faces carefully before forcefully shoving them both out of the room and slamming the door in their faces. The heavy sound of a bolt being thrown was the only other sound to come from the room.
Shimakaze giggled, giddy as a schoolgirl. "She likes the outfit I got her~!"
Willie just groaned. Fubuki was right. In their own way, those two really were sisters.
She heaved a sigh, remembering Destroyer Division 6. The four girls, usually so energetic and excitable, friendly to an almost intimidating degree, had been horribly upset. They knew that Tenryuu and Tatsuta had been badly injured, they knew that the two were in intensive care, but they four had not been permitted to see them. Willie shuddered to think of what had happened to the two light cruisers. As for DesDiv 6, they had been in tears, even the normally unflappable Hibiki unable to hide damp eyes as they wondered out loud what was wrong with their two caretakers.
Meanwhile, Kongou was messing around with a webcam.
One or the other had finally convinced Willie to take her leave of the dorms, and so she continued to walk, slowly realizing that she was heading towards Shimakaze's workshop. The realization didn't surprise her. She really needed a friend right now.
Finally reaching the workshop, Willie raised a hand to knock on the metal door when she heard some sort of commotion from within. Some sort of muffled shouting, and... that wasn't Shimakaze's voice. It sounded like a panicked Amatsukaze! Visions of the recent battle and its terrible toll danced through Willie's head, as well as the countless things that could go wrong in a machine shop, especially when you were as ambitious as Shimakaze. Combined with the frantic squeaking of fairies, and Amatasukaze's hysteric shouting, horrible visions thrust themselves into her imagination. What if Shimakaze had...! No. NO!
Filled with sudden panic, Willie seized the doorknob, pulled when she should have pushed while simultaneously leaping forward, and managed to faceplant into the metal door hard enough to give it a new dent.
Ouch.
There was a sudden silence from within as Willie whimpered in humiliated pain, the dribble of blood down her face as well as an embarrassed damage report coming from within letting her know that yes, she was going to have to visit the repair yard to get that fixed. The repair yard with that scary man with the angry eyes.
"Hello...?" Amatsukaze's tentative voice came from within. Slowly, Willie pushed the door open the right way, pinching her nose to keep the bleeding to a minimum.
"Hebbo," she said miserably, before the scene before her finally managed to register.
Shimakaze's experimental engine hung from the ceiling, looking far further along than the last time Willie had been down here. Amatsukaze stood to one side, while a troop of fairies were all across its surface, bearing an array of tools that they were apparently wielding in assistance of Shimakaze.
Shimakaze, whose mouth was wrapped around and apparently stuck to some sort of protrusion sticking out of the engine. The Japanese destroyer waved sheepishly.
Willie stared. "Wud?"
Amatsukaze raised a finger. "In fact, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this." She glanced down at Shimakaze and sighed. "...I take that back. There is in fact a really stupid explanation for this." Shimakaze just glared back. The silver-haired destroyer was about to say more when she took in Willie's condition and gasped. "Oh my goodness! Willie, are you all right?"
Willie's shoulders slumped. "I hurd by dose," she murmured. By running into a door, she added to herself. Again.
"Oh..." eyes shimmering with concern, Amatsukaze grabbed a clean rag and rushed over to Willie's side, carefully pressing the fabric against her damaged nose. "Come on in, dear. Does it hurt? Don't worry, Shimakaze will get you all patched up, right as soon as... um, as soon as we get her loose." From where her mouth was stuck around... something, bulging out at the sides, the blonde destroyer, glanced away, blushing slightly.
"Wud habbened?" Willie wondered out loud, watching as the fairies pushed tiny metal levers into the sides of Shimakaze's mouth, trying to pry her loose.
"Our dear Shimakaze finally succeeded in making a new engine," Amatsukaze explained, a trace of pride in her voice.
"Wud?!" Willie yelped.
"It's true," the silver-haired destroyer said in wonderment. "She really did it. It worked." Shimakaze squawked in pain as her fairies finally pried her loose with a POP! "Of course, then came the question of how she was going to get it into her body."
The American destroyer considered this for a moment, looking at her Japanese friend, who was rubbing her sore mouth. "...You twied to ed it?"
"Not at first!" Shimakaze protested. "I mean... it works! The engine really works!" She patted the machine with enthusiasm. "But it doesn't do me any good just hanging from the ceiling, right? So, um... I tried hugging it, to see if I could absorb it or something. I couldn't."
"Though it was adorable seeing you hugging your creation," Amatsukaze quipped.
"Well, um, that didn't work," Shimakaze said with an awkward blush. "So, I even tried unzipping my coveralls and pressing it against my bare stomach-"
"And I am SO glad nobody else saw that," Amatsukaze interrupted, facepalming.
"-and when that didn't work, I got a little frustrated, and tried, um..."
"She tried to swallow it and her mouth got stuck," Amatsukaze finished.
"...yeah," Shimakaze agreed sheepishly. There was a moment of silence. "So. What happened to you?"
Willie paused. "I walged indo a door."
The blonde destroyer nodded. "I won't tell if you don't."
"'Kay," Willie agreed.
Amatsukaze smiled sweetly. "My lips are sealed as well."
Shimakaze sighed. "Well... Willie, hop up on a bench. I'll get some tools and do something about your nose."
"Hm?" Willie queried as Amatsukaze lead her over to a bench. The silver-locked destroyer helped her up and patted Willie on the head reassuringly.
"Don't worry, I come to Shimmy for minor repairs all the time!" she insisted.
"You gan do dab?!" Willie exclaimed as Shimakaze came over with some tools in hand.
"Well, a little bit," Shimakaze said as she set to work, raising her voice over the sound of power tools. "Little stuff like this is no problem, but anything serious, you really need to see the repair yards. I just do minor things for myself and Ammy. It's no big deal."
"It started a while back, after she met Crab that one time," Amatsukaze added. She smirked. "To repeat, that 'one' time."
"He is such a jerk," Shimakaze grumbled as she worked on Willie's nose. "Wouldn't stop giving me grief about how I dress. Heck with him, I'm never going back there if I can help it." Her eyes flicked up to Willie. "Same goes for you. Anything small like this, feel free to come to me, okay?"
"Okay," Willie replied, careful to hold still. "Have you told the Admiral that you do things like this?"
Shimakaze paused. She looked up at Willie. "Um. I really don't want to be a dedicated repair ship, okay? Experimental stuff, minor maintenance, that's one thing. Doing nothing else but repairs? That's really..."
"Slow?" Amatsukaze suggested with a giggle.
"Something like that," Shimakaze muttered, wiping at Willie's nose. "And don't say a word about how I dress. I know you still have that old translucent outfit."
Amatsukaze flushed a deep red. "I-I can't just throw away a piece of myself like that! And besides, I dress like a dignified lady should these days!" She folded her arms with a huff.
Shimakaze considered her work before glancing over at Amatsukaze. "Goto might pay more attention to you if you wore the old one," she said gently.
Amatsukaze looked away. "...Admiral Goto has enough Dess in his life already. And you know how he feels about destroyers." Shimakaze just sighed in response.
...Willie concluded that there were some things you just didn't ask about.
After another moment Shimakaze stood back, nodding in satisfaction. "Okay! How do you feel Willie?"
Willie gingerly touched her nose and blinked in surprise. "I-I feel fine!" she exclaimed.
Amatsukaze peered closely before nodding. "It looks perfect. Excellent work as always, sister!"
Shimakaze preened. "I do pride myself on my work!"
"Um, about that..." Willie glanced over at the mechanism hanging from the ceiling. "Does this thing really work?"
The blonde destroyer grinned hugely. "Why don't you see for yourself? C'mon!" Eagerly, she pulled Willie over to the engine as her fairies cleared the area. A few adjustments were made, switches were flipped, and soon the throaty roar of an engine filled the room. Willie just stared on in wonder. Shimakaze had actually made something that wor-
No. Bad Willie, she admonished herself. What a terribly mean thing to say. The gun Shimmy had made worked perfectly, didn't it?
After a few minutes to take some readings, Shimakaze shut down the motor and turned to Willie, beaming. "So? What'd you think?!"
"Coooool..." Willie breathed.
"Well done, Shimmy!" Amatsukaze clapped her hands enthusiastically.
"That is certainly very impressive!" said a fourth voice.
"Thanks, Yamato," Shimakaze nodded, turning back to her engine. "The problem is, this is really just proof-of-concept. The real problem is getting a working version inside me, or really any one of us and that's..." she trailed off, realizing something. "Huh?" The three destroyers turned their heads to the door.
Standing there, wearing a ridiculous trenchcoat and hat, sunglasses in one hand and a clipboard in the other stood Yamato, smiling sweetly. "Hello, Shimakaze! I hear you've been doing a lot of work here!"
Willie and Amatsukaze turned to the blonde destroyer, who was sweating visibly. "Um."
"So, um..." Yamato carefully walked into the room, looking everything over with interest. "I didn't realize that you were such an engineer! But scuttlebutt had it that you actually made Miss Porter here a gun turret from scratch!" She winked at Willie, who squeaked in response.
"Um," Shimakaze replied, looking around nervously.
"And then there's this!" Yamato looked at the new engine in wonderment. "Not to mention, I heard a rumor that you do... repair work?" She smiled at the smaller girl.
Shimakaze stared back, an expression of sick horror spreading over her face. Her eyes slid over to Amatsukaze, who had found something fascinating on the far wall to observe.
Yamato cleared her throat. "You know, we do need any number of people qualified to work on us ships..." she let the statement hang in the air, a suggestion tinged with the vague suggestion of authority.
Willie looked over at Shimakaze, whose expression suggested that she felt like she was facing a firing squad. Honestly, a speedster like her being relegated to repair duty, or having it dumped upon her regular duties, was probably a horrifying proposition.
However, as William D. Porter looked on, Shimakaze's eyes suddenly flashed, a look of pure determination spreading over her face. The small girl gazed hard and firm at the much larger battleship.
"I have one condition," she said sternly.
"Hm? What's that?" Yamato asked, eyes lighting up.
"I want to be part of the shipgirl upgrade project I know is going on. I'll start with you."
Yamato blinked, suddenly taken off guard. "M-m-me?" she stammered.
"That's right." Shimakaze's eyes narrowed. "I'd like to cut you for speed."
There was a deep, deep silence. "...Speed?" Yamato echoed weakly.
"That's right." Turning sharply, Shimakaze stalked over to the laptop sitting in the corner. Bringing up the web-browser, she punched in two words:
MICRO BIKINI
Seizing the computer, Shimakaze thrust it towards Yamato like a holy icon. "Here. This design should maximize your tactical speed. Would you like it in red?"
As Yamato stared at the 'bathing suit' displayed on the screen, she underwent a remarkable transformation. Her eyes got very, very wide. Her face got very, very red. And a high-pitched squeak of utter embarrassment began squeezing out of her throat. Finally, the dam broke.
"OhgeesorrylookatthetimeIgottagowe'lljustforgetaboutthisIreallyhavetoleavenowkaybyethanksBYE!" Bowing rapidly enough to make her ponytail lash like a panicking snake, Yamato burst out the door and fled as quickly as her mortified legs could carry her.
In the ensuing silence, Shimakaze put her computer back down. "Well. I guess that did make her faster."
"Could they really use your help at the repair yards though?" Amatsukaze wondered out loud.
Shimakaze narrowed her eyes. "Ammy? Remember when you talked to me about secrets, and how to keep them?"
Amatsukaze paused. "...I'm going to go check after Yamato, and make sure she's, um, fine," the silver-haired destroyer murmured, quietly making her way out of the building. This left Willie and Shimakaze alone.
"L-loose lips sink ships?" Willie suggested awkwardly.
"Or get them stuck in the repair yard?" Shimakaze commented. "Oh well. That should be the end of that."
"So, what about this engine?" Willie asked, turning to the object in question.
"That's the thing." Shimakaze heaved a deep sigh. "I can't absorb it or anything. It's too big for me to simply stick into my body somehow. Which means the only option is for me to somehow summon my full body like I hear happened with Akagi and Yuudachi, and have a full-size version put in."
"Which means making a full-size version," Willie noted.
"Yeah, which probably isn't going to happen." Shimakaze sighed again. "Oh well. I'll think of something. Do you wanna go get something to eat?"
Willie smiled. "Sure!"
"Cool! Then just let me get changed and cleaned up, and maybe we can track down Ammy to go with us!"
---------------------------------------------------------
A little while later, Shimakaze and Willie strode through the halls of the dorms headed for Amatsukaze's room, the blonde back in her regular outfit (which now included the sarong, much to Willie's relief).
"She didn't answer her phone?" Willie asked.
"Probably forgot to recharge it or something?" Shimakaze shrugged. "Oh well. Here's her room." Coming upon a door with Amatsukaze's name helpfully written on the nameplate, Shimakaze seized the knob and let herself in, mouth open to call out to her almost-sister when she stopped in place, eyes widening in surprise. Curious, Willie peered past her to see what was wrong. Seconds later, the American destroyer felt her face heating up in embarrassment.
Amatsukaze was standing in front of a full-body mirror. Except 'posing' would be a better word. She looked at her reflection confidently, a faintly pleased smile playing about her lips. As for her clothing, it somewhat resembled her regular outfit. Save for the fact that it could be more accurately described as a mini-skirt and halter.
"You know, I think I've still got it..." she murmured to herself, reaching out to pick up another outfit, one far more similar to her regular clothing, albeit noticeably more... transparent. Then she glanced too the side and noticed Willie and Shimakaze staring at her.
Amatsukaze froze, face going as pale as a sheet.
In the ensuing silence, Willie found her hands rising to cover her face, while Shimakaze's mouth fell open in a huge, happy smile.
The next instant, Amatsukaze surged forward, seizing both destroyers and pulling them close. "YOU. SAW. NOTHING," she rasped, eyes full of barely-restrained malice.
"N-N-N-N-N-N-N-NOTHING!" Willie shrieked.
"Whatever you say, sis~!" Shimakaze chirped, nodding agreeably.
Amatsukaze searched both their faces carefully before forcefully shoving them both out of the room and slamming the door in their faces. The heavy sound of a bolt being thrown was the only other sound to come from the room.
Shimakaze giggled, giddy as a schoolgirl. "She likes the outfit I got her~!"
Willie just groaned. Fubuki was right. In their own way, those two really were sisters.
Shimakaze'd discussion said:
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Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
Guessing Zekameshi myself.
Edit: I was right! The ninja proved me right!
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Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
I like the revisions. More character to each of the shipgirls.
Same as above. Revisions are good.
And we see why Kaga's so stone-faced physically and mentally. She's keeping herself professional, bottling up her conflicted feelings. Almost wish she got more screen time in the main quest, I like her steel-hard will and determination. It's not one-dimensional and singular, but varied like an actual human being.
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
Shimakaze: "It really wouldn't be professional to walk around naked."
(art by Daniel9140 of e-shuushuu.net)
The U.S.S. William D. Porter, "Willie" to her friends, and "Wee Willie Worthless" to those who looked down upon her (who numbered more than Willie was comfortable with) was at the firing range desperately trying to improve her gunnery accuracy. It was... something of a mixed bag, to say the least. As far as Willie could tell, she was the only destroyer in the world whose accuracy improved while she wasn't actually looking at the target. Still, she had to keep at it; people were depending on her! She couldn't let them-
"Excuse me."
At the interruption, Willie screamed in fright and just barely managed to keep from discharging her cannon into the sky. After a moment to get her breathing back under control, the red-faced destroyer turned to the person who had addressed her.
"I-I'm so sorry!" The destroyer blubbered, "I didn't mean to-"
It was then that Willie realized she was apparently talking to a hooker.
A bit taller then her, with long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes, the figure was dressed in something that belonged in a fetish magazine. The only thing nice that could be said about it was that it vaguely had naval connotations. And what was with the bunny ears...? The figure shocked Willie further by... bowing politely.
"I apologize. It was extremely unprofessional and unsafe of me to disturb you while you were practicing. I should have known better and ask your forgiveness."
Willie blinked. "Um. I forgive you?"
"Thank you." The blonde straightened. "Are you the William D. Porter?"
"Um, yes?"
"My name is Shimakaze, and I am of what was once the Imperial Japanese Navy." She frowned. "I suppose I'm now JMSDF. It hasn't been made clear to me."
Willie stared, speechless. "Why are you wearing that?" she asked faintly.
"It really wouldn't be professional to walk around naked," Shimakaze pointed out with a raised eyebrow. "Not to mention the embarrassment factor."
"Did you... come back wearing that?" the American destroyer choked out, trying very hard to understand why anybody in their right mind would voluntarily wander around wearing... THAT.
"No, I had a heavier outfit when I first came back," Shimakaze explained. "I switched to this."
"...Why?" Willie groaned out, shaking her head. She was convinced that her face was burning up with embarrassment just looking at the Japanese destroyer.
"Well, it's like this," Shimakaze cleared her throat and raised her hands. "This outfit weighs less. Therefore, I have to propel less mass with the same propulsion system. The result: I go faster." The blonde nodded to herself, pleased with her logic.
William D. Porter just stared blankly. "...Wouldn't it almost be better to walk around in a bathing suit."
The other destroyer frowned. "That sounds very unprofessional."
"I guess," Willie sighed, deciding to look away from the spectacle. What her gaze fell upon was a smiling turret that waved cheerfully at her. Wait what in the-
"So, you can go fast, right?" Shimakaze continued on, unaware or uncaring of Willie's sudden horrified bewilderment.
"39 knots," Willie said faintly. She raised a trembling hand to point at the friendly turret. "W-w-w-what in the world-"
"Wow, you rally are fast!" Shimakaze exclaimed, and the unfamiliar, unexpected and genuine appreciation in Shimakaze's voice caused Willie to whip her head around. The Japanese destroyer was absolutely beaming at her. "You're almost as fast as me! And with that weapons loadout... I'm kinda jealous." Willie's question seemed to click with her. "Oh, and that's Rensouhou-chan. He's with me."
"Oh. Uh..."
"Wanna be friends?" Shimakaze asked.
"Wha?! I! Really?!" Willie gaped at the sudden question. This destroyer, with the... admittedly terrifying dress sense, was actually looking to befriend her?!"
"Yeah, I wanna race you," said destroyer nodded.
Now Willie's face was flushing for entirely different reasons. "Wh-why me?" she asked bashfully, pressing her finger tips together.
"You seem nice," Shimakaze shrugged. "And I wanna race you cause, well..." the blonde scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Scuttlebutt says that we might be getting upgrades soon. Still up in the air. And who better to test myself against than a Fletcher-class?" She shrugged. "I'm gonna level with you. I wanna see how you perform and get some ideas for upgrades for myself. Of course, I'll help you work on any redesigns for yourself, too. I've kinda been investigating remodeling procedures, just in case something like this came around."
"Oh. Well then..." Willie blinked, a little overwhelmed by the brief conversation. "I... I'd love that, Shimakaze." She smiled shyly.
Shimakaze smiled back, seemingly satisfied. "Great. I'll get you one of my outfits. We can race... tomorrow, say?"
Seven of those words pounded into Willie's brain, striking her numb. "What."
"Yeah, I have obligations today," Shimakaze said apologetically, "Tomorrow would be better-"
"One of your outfits?!" Willie all but shrieked.
"Yeah, they'll make you go faster, like me," the Japanese destroyer said, oblivious to Willie's sudden discomfort. "Every drop of speed helps, you know?"
"I DON'T WANNA WEAR ONE OF THOSE OUTFITS!!!" the American destroyer wailed, hiding her face behind her hands.
Shimakaze cocked her head curiously. "Why not? I'm sure it would look just fine on you."
"I'D DIE OF EMBARRASSMENT IN ONE OF THOSE THINGS!!!" Willie howled, mortified at the very thought.
Shimakaze mulled this over for a minute. "You lost me."
Willie was spared a long, drawn-out conversation on the need to follow certain uniform regulations by a new voice cutting into Shimakaze's dogged insistence. "What in the name of holy fuck am I looking at?" Curiously, the Japanese destroyer turned around to see a trio of new arrivals. U.S.S. Harder, still wet from being in the water, gaped at the two of them. Behind him, Naka looked upon the scene with what can be described as an embarrassed grimace.
And even further back, Fubuki looked on with an expression seemingly devoid of any emotion, yet filled with deep understanding. An expression that conveyed that she had had to deal with shit much like this in the past, and far too much of it.
"Hello," Shimakaze said politely.
Harder gaped at Shimakaze. At the cheerful Rensouhou-chan. Back and forth between the two of them. "...What in the name of all that is holy are you wearing?!" he all but screamed.
Shimakaze cocked her head. "Clothing."
"Well, I can see that!" Harder spat.
"...Then why did you ask?"
"Why in the name of almighty Jehovah are you wearing that getup?!" the submarine choked out. "You look like a damn hooker!"
Shimakaze frowned at this. "That's ridiculous. I would never do such a thing. I have my pride as a warship."
Harder's mouth worked, searching for words that just did not exist. His face was beet red with a variety of emotions, from embarrassment, to... other things that Willie didn't want to consider, given how his eyes kept flicking to and away from from Shimakaze. "Just... I... WHY. ARE. YOU. DRESSED. LIKE. THAT," he finally bit out.
"Extra speed," she replied. "Why are you so obsessed with how I dress?"
"I am not!"
"You totally are, given how you keep staring at me," Shimakaze snorted. Harder choked again at this, beyond words. Naka raised an eyebrow, looking faintly amused, while Fubuki... had a weak, vacant smile on her face. Willie was beginning to wonder if she should creep away, when something seemed to occur to Shimakaze.
"Wait a moment," the destroyer mused, walking up to Harder, who flinched at her approach. She considered him thoughtfully. "We're about the same height... same hair and eye color, and you're of a fairly slender build. Plus, you're a submarine, which is fairly slow..." Understanding seemed to dawn on her. "Oh. I understand now. You're one of those."
"One of what?" Harder asked flatly, staring warily.
Shimakaze clapped a hand on his shoulder and nodded. "Yes, Harder. You may have one of my outfits."
Time seemed to stop and Willie almost gagged at the sound of these words. Harder's face instantly turned to a shade of purple with sheer outrage and humiliation. Naka's eyes bulged out of their sockets, while Fubuki... had no apparent reaction.
"...what..." Harder finally rasped out.
"I'm not going to lie, I find your tastes to be incredibly weird," Shimakaze said solemnly. "But I have heard of this sort of thing before, and it is after all a new era, which we must embrace courageously. Thus Harder, while I privately consider you to be a massive pervert, rest assured that my professional opinion of you remains unchanged. I know what you subs are like after all; I've had to deal with I-19. Anyway, I'll make sure to send you some of my clothes."
As Harder struggled to find words to express himself, the blonde destroyer turned back to Willie. "So, I'll see you tomorrow at noon? Great! I'll make sure to bring an outfit for you!" Willie could only moan in despair as Shimakaze turned and skipped off, followed by her... living... turret... thing.
And then there was silence, as Harder stared unseeing into the space once occupied by Shimakaze, his face contorting as his mind tried unsuccessfully to process what had just happened. Silently, Naka slid forward to place a reassuring hand on Willie's shoulder.
"...What... just happened...?" the American destroyer said quietly, racking her brains for places that she could hide from Shimakaze.
Fubuki laughed tonelessly. "You just got Shimakaze'd. Welcome to Yokosuka."
Welp.
That was Shimakaze.
I don't know how I feel about her yet, but I like what her logic does to people.
Trace Coburn
BattleTech Starfighter Analyst
- Location
- NDBBM, New Zealand
I think it's demetrious' personal variant on 'KanColle', meant to demonstrate a certain lack of respect for the base franchise as it currently stands. He started Strike Witches Quest to deconstruct the Strike Witches IP and turn it into something more than fanservice, and I think much of the same thought-process went into starting KCQ.
EDIT: or maybe what @arsdraconis said.
EDIT: or maybe what @arsdraconis said.
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Gibberish really, can't fucking spell/pronounce this shit
An anon called him out saying the fucking game said it on title screen, and PF just fucking laughed at the implication that he played the fucking game with his shipsluts laughing png image he labeled as shipsluts laughing.jpg
Hilarity ensues
Edit: just an anecdote from the first thread, don't take it as a definite etymology of the title, fuck if I know why PF uses it. My initial guess was that it lets him incorporate the c word into the title, because shipsluts isn't politically incorrect enough
An anon called him out saying the fucking game said it on title screen, and PF just fucking laughed at the implication that he played the fucking game with his shipsluts laughing png image he labeled as shipsluts laughing.jpg
Hilarity ensues
Edit: just an anecdote from the first thread, don't take it as a definite etymology of the title, fuck if I know why PF uses it. My initial guess was that it lets him incorporate the c word into the title, because shipsluts isn't politically incorrect enough
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CompassJimbo
Where’s Your North?
- Location
- The former Rubber Capital of the World
Shimakaze just doesn't understand why people are so disturbed by her choice of outfit. Seems appropriate for her character.
Well, what else did you expect from the Shokaku shippers?
We get antsy when Best Girl hasn't shown up for a while
.Totally, I need me some carrier lovingWe get antsy when Best Girl hasn't shown up for a while
more Hornet plz