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Vignettes From The Naval District (Kancolle)

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7: The Prelude to Manila
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    • "You know, Taka, a lot of people think you're an idiot for suggesting this."

    "People can think what they want to think. This is a free country."

    "Hah. Seriously though, an invasion of the Philippines? Even I think it's dicey."

    "Then pull out."

    "Hey, hey. I said it was dicey, I didn't say I was scared. Here, I'll even lend you some Marines."

    "And your shipgirls?"

    "Ehh… I'll call you."

    ----

    2026, March

    In the dimly lit room, the only light was the one being shone from directly above. The Admiral of Yokosuka Naval Base, and current overall leader of the JMSDF - because everyone older was dead or retired - sat slouched over his desk, hands clasped. The shadows he casts are harsh and contrast heavily with his white dress uniform, displaying the bars he has earned in decades of service to the Japanese people. His features are shrouded in shadow. He is, in a word, imposing.

    And meeting him, gaze for gaze, through a screen to the other side of the world, is a man with a thick handlebar moustache, hands similarly-clasped, slouched over similarly, in the posture of the overworked Admiralty. Each of them waits for the other to make their first move, for every meeting is a battle, and there can only be one victor.

    "Takamichi," his American counterpart says simply.

    "Harper," is the Admiral's clipped response.

    They continue looking at each other, maintaining their unblinking stare, for long, long minutes. Each second stretches into infinity. Each point in time becomes an eternity. Every moment that passes is a lifetime, an era in itself. Distractions are not permitted. There is nothing else here but this moment and the next. Unblinking. Unbending. Unlimited.

    Finally, Admiral Harper blinks. He groans, and covers his eyes.

    "Five-Zero Taka," the Admiral smirks.

    "Get burnt," Harper fires back.

    As the lights flicker back on in each of their offices, Ooyodo marks off another dash on the chalkboard behind the scroll the Admiral insists on hanging up behind him. The Admiral pulls a drawer open and applies the eye drops he needs to keep his eyes from shrivelling up into prunes, while his American counterpart grumbles about getting him next time, like a Saturday Morning cartoon villain.

    "Now that we have the customary staring contest out of the way, let's get down to business."

    "Quite," the Admiral nods. "We're all but finished with the Philippines Campaign. All that's left is Manila. Unfortunately, it's Manila."

    "Why don't you use your frigging carriers and bomb it to bits? That's what you usually do."

    The Admiral smirks. "Cute. No, not this time. The Seaport Princess' air wing rivals an entire Carrier Division alone, and we know there are three Fleet Carriers in the Bay lending their air wings. I don't get to bomb it to dust this time." He tilts his head forward. "That's where your girls come in, by the way."

    "First off: Fuck you, we do Carriers better."

    "Then where are they?"

    "Get burnt. Second off: they should be there in a few days. You're welcome for doubling your battleship firepower. God bless America and all that."

    "Good. Now, how are my girls?"

    "They're in Canada right now." Harper gives the Admiral a significant look. Not truly aggrieved, that would be a sign of weakness. Not truly angry, that would be a sign of defeat. Just kind of… frustrated? Annoyed? Confused? Ah, right. Bemused. "Why did you give them six months of paid leave again?"

    "Because I'm not giving them to you." The Admiral crosses his arms, huffing. Moments later, he deflates. "...They might get bullied."

    "What? No, I'd never."

    "You aren't your girls, and there's still a lot of bad blood between them." The Admiral adjusts his cap, letting out a breath. "Keep an eye on them, could you?"

    "Of course. You keep an eye on my girls, alright?"

    "Of course."

    ----

    "Maaaaaan, I'm so jealous of them," Hiryuu grumbles as she lays belly-down on a beanbag chair, hands and legs flailing. "I bet they're snowboarding or something! Or shooting meese! Mooses! Whatever they do in Canada!"

    "Duty is a privilege, Hiryuu, not a right," Souryuu tries to say to mollify her sister. "I mean… This means the Admiral trusts us more, right? So that we can get the job done better. Akagi, back me up on this."

    Akagi, her mouth full of pretzels and potato chips, nods enthusiastically.

    Souryuu looks at her, suppresses a sigh, and tries to smile. "Uh… Kaga, back me up on this?"

    Kaga, her mouth full of pretzels and potato chips, nods astutely.

    "The two of you are just incorrigible!"

    Akagi swallows, and leans forward to chop Souryuu on the head. "No! Bad! Show respect to your seniors!"

    "Ow!"

    Kaga swallows, and dabs at her cheeks with a napkin. "The 5th Carrier Division is doing an important job in the states, and we should not assume they are having fun. If we die, the entire burden of providing air support in the Pacific falls to them. Could any of us bear that burden easily?"

    Hiryuu looks at the floor, counting tiles, and tries not to get self-reflective. Souryuu, nursing a bruise on her head, succeeds already. "B-But they're in Canada…"

    "And we're in the Philippines. Eating snacks. Lounging on cushions and beanbag chairs." Kaga pats the thick stack of cushions she currently kneels on for emphasis. "Let us have some perspective, Hiryuu, Souryuu."

    "Okay…"

    "W-Why am I being scolded?!"

    "Because you called us incorrigible and I am extremely petty."

    Akagi whistles, and breaks open a fresh bag of chips. "Wow, Kaga, I thought you didn't like the 5th Carrier Division!"

    "They're children playing with toys beyond their ken, and are wasting the technological advantage gifted to them through experience with us." Kaga chomps fiercely on a potato chip for emphasis, still wearing her blank expression. "I don't like them. I just also respect them."

    "Right, right… Say, didn't I find a picture of Zuikaku in your--"

    The potato chip flies out of Akagi's hands and is immediately pinned to the wall on the far side. Akagi doesn't flinch at the sight of Kaga drawing another arrow at her head, but Hiryuu and Souryuu certainly do. It all happened in an instant. How did Kaga move so quickly? Her bow wasn't even right next to her.

    "...Hoho?" Akagi turns slowly to her Division's flagship, her face a dark shadow. "Are we really doing this, Kaga~?"

    In another instant, Akagi has her bow in hand and arrow nocked as well, aimed at Kaga. To Hiryuu and Souryuu, this was like being caught between elephants. Angry, metal, incredibly fast elephants. With strategic strike capability and a lot of fighter aircraft.

    "...Hiryuu, hold me."

    "T-T-Tamon Maru? It's me. Help."

    ----

    "So, how are things so far?"

    Something explodes as Mutsu opens her mouth, followed by hollering and screaming and even more explosions. Mutsu smiles and shrugs, as things return to their normal state. "Things are as they usually are, Nagato."

    "I felt that all the way in Yokosuka." Nagato grins, and gives a thumbs up. "Compliments to the Carriers, they have levelled up again. Most impressive. And our Battleships?"

    Mutsu glances over at Fusou as she strokes Shigure's hair, and Yamashiro as she braids Fusou's hair. Shigure purrs and wags her arms like a sleeping puppy, eliciting soft content sighs from the both of them. "More of the same. We will be ready for Manila."

    "Good, good. I wanted to come down there myself, but…" Nagato shrugs helplessly. "It can't be helped, the Admiral wants me to stay."

    "Well, it's alright. The Admiral got me some help that you'd approve of."

    "Hm? I didn't hear about this."

    The door kicks open, and three battleships bearing the insignia of the 5th Fleet step in. The three of them are curvaceous beauties, as battleships tend to be, and as tall as any other. One of them has worn their long hair in a ponytail, the second has let it grow out, and the third is wearing a baseball cap of all things. And each of them wear a metal choker almost identical to the ones Mutsu and Nagato wear.

    "Hey," the one with the baseball cap says with a sly grin, and she nods at Mutsu. "Mutsu, what's up?"

    "...Mutsu, is that--"

    The one with the ponytail leans over to the screen and waves. "Yo, Nagato! Colorado, Mommyland and West Virginia, reporting for duty!"

    "Oh my god it's the American Big Seven," Yamashiro whispers, and starts hissing like a cat. Shigure wakes up, startled, and is soothed only by Fusou's frantic face stroking.

    The middle sister slaps her face, sighing. "Col, it's Maryland. God, this happens every time!"

    "But you're such a mom, Mommy!" West Virginia laughs.

    "West, I am your older sister, not your mother. That would be weird. And we're weird enough!"

    West laughs, pulls herself out a seat, and leans on her elbows looking at Mutsu and Nagato. "Wow, you two are a lot prettier in person. Well," she squints, "Mutsu is. Haven't seen NagaNaga in person yet!"

    "N-NagaNaga?!"

    Mutsu rolls her eyes, still smiling. "Colorado, your sister hasn't changed a bit, has she?"

    "There are no brakes on the West Virginia," the eldest sister says with pride as she strikes a pose, flexing her arms. "And neither does the Colo Train! Whoo whoo!"

    "...I like NagaNaga."

    "Whoo! Breaks are for suckers!" West Virginia cheers, nearly taking her hat off as she throws her arms up, and then her eyes fall onto the shivering Shigure on Fusou's lap. "Oh my god that's a Destroyer I'm going to pet her."

    "Virginia no," Maryland sighs.

    "Virginia yes," she laughs, and cartwheels onto the table, hands deftly avoiding Mutsu's laptop, and towards Shigure and the Fusou Sisters. All while Yamashiro continues to hiss like a cat.

    "...Hah, lively as always, you three!" Nagato laughs heartily, and Colorado quickly joins in. Mutsu and Maryland look on quietly, one amused, the other bemused. "Truly, you three are my fellows in the Big Seven!"

    "We'll cover for you real good, Nagato!" Colorado says as she strikes a pose before the laptop, flexing one arm and cupping the bicep with the other. "On my honor as a Colorado, and on my honor as one of the BIG SEVEN!"

    Mutsu chuckles as Maryland palms her face in dejection and slumps onto the chair that West Virginia cartwheeled off of. And to think, she was originally worried about the three of them coming. They were exactly like they were on Skype! Nagato always lamented that Nelson and Rodney weren't here, and the Big Seven were not together. No, just the Big Five.

    Well, the Big Five are big enough.

    "Now that we're all here," Mutsu begins, as Colorado pulls out a chair for herself and turns Nagato's laptop to face Mutsu, "We can talk about our plan for the Manila Bay attack. We battleships are the keystone of this plan, and it is important that none of us get wounded prior to--"

    "FUSOU PUNCH!"

    Mutsu picks her laptop up and holds it over her head through sheer instinct, and not a second too soon as West Virginia crashes onto their table and shatters it into wood chips, her head lolling in a daze as if imaginary birdies were flying around it.

    "What happened? I can't see. Mutsu, tell me what happened."

    Mutsu looks over at Fusou and Yamashiro, both panting heavily with their mirrored fists smoking, and Shigure clinging onto both of their legs. She holds her blank expression for several long seconds, while Fusou and Yamashiro gradually got more and more concerned.

    And then she chuckled. "Oh, Fusou and Yamashiro did a combination attack and punched West Virginia into the table."

    "That is awesome. Did anyone get hurt?"

    "West Virginia could use some ice," Maryland calls out.

    "She could use some AMERICA," Colorado says.

    "Col not now."

    "Nope!" Mutsu says happily.

    "Excellent. Now, continue with your briefing." Mutsu doesn't see anything as she repositions the laptop on her lap, but the rustling she hears can only be Nagato clasping her hands together in an Admiral-like fashion. "The Decisive Battle approaches."

    A pause.

    "...The Decisive Battle approaches and I'm not there to fight it. Dammit."

    "...Whoo whoo?" Colorado suggests. And then Maryland slaps her upside the head.

    Mutsu chuckles. Oh, what fun.
     
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    • They're more like a thankfully friendly bunch of hallway jocks. The only difference with Maryland is that she listens in classes.
     
    To quote Swordo; Colorado is Sendai but WHOO WHOO instead of YASEN, West Virginia is Naka but ADHD instead of IDORU, and Mommyland is Jintsuu but more done instead of shy.
     
    Nottheunmaker said:
    To quote Swordo; Colorado is Sendai but WHOO WHOO instead of YASEN, West Virginia is Naka but ADHD instead of IDORU, and Mommyland is Jintsuu but more done instead of shy.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    That's what I was guessing at. Sendai is a Highly Visible Ninja, so logically, if the Colorados are Sendai expies, Colorado is a Highly Visible McNinja.
     
    8: Happy Dodge Desstroyer
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    • 2026, June

    It was a normal day at Yokosuka Naval Base.

    "Admiral," says a battered Warrant Officer Kaede says with an ice pack tied around his head, "We in the Military Police would like to reiterate our request for a pay raise."

    Very, very normal.

    The Admiral glances at Ooyodo by the window, who is currently very cutely enjoying a juice box. He looks back at the Warrant Officer. He taps his fingers on the desk briefly, just to break the monotony. Finally, he sighs. "Okay, I'll bite. What did they do now?"

    "Well," one of the MPs in the back says, "You know how the Destroyers used to play Torpedo Rugby?"

    The Admiral nods. "We lost two berths and a warehouse." He checks a report. "Sorry, three berths. Including the one Kaga was using. Yeah, she was… displeased."

    "Yeah, well, they are playing Dodge Depth Charge now."

    The Admiral opens his mouth. He closes it. He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. "I assume all of you lost?"

    As one, the MPs nod weakly.

    "And then they pounced upon your weakness and threw more depth charges at you?"

    Another nod.

    "They are like sharks," the Admiral remarks as he shakes his head.

    "Small, huggable sharks that give us plenty of headaches," an MP says aloud.

    "That might be the concussion, Keiji," another points out.

    "Don't be silly Josuke I'm a real ora ora." The MP sticks his tongue out, flails his arms, and falls flat on his back. His colleagues look at him, both piteous and envious.

    "Definitely the concussion," a new MP says.

    "Why don't you use Crazy Diamond to fix him, Josuke?" Another asks.

    "Because fuck you specifically, Hikaru."

    The Admiral pulls a gavel from his table and bangs it loudly. Silence falls over the room, broken only by Ooyodo slurping on her juice box. "This is getting far too complicated," the Admiral says. He sighs. "Look, I want to give you all a raise, I really do. But the budget is tight at the moment and we can barely afford your hazard pay."

    Warrant Officer Kaede frowns sadly at him. "We are actually dying here, Admiral." Another MP falls on his face, snoring softly. "Quite frankly, we aren't sure if he was lucky or not."

    The Admiral nods. "Well, I can't get you your pay. I can, however, get you all some time off."

    The MPs tilt their heads at him.

    "Admiral," Warrant Officer Kaede swallows. "Please, spare the Lt. Commander."

    The Admiral snickers. "I won't hurt him, men. I shall simply have him… eat."

    ----

    "Okay, Shiratsuyu, go over it again. You're telling me that because of that stupid game, the Kongous self-identified as Desstroyers?"

    "Kinda-sorta-very-definitely," the destroyer answers as she jumps up and down on the Lt. Commander's bed. "Oh, oh! But I still came in first! Kongou can suck it I'm the Dodge Depth Destroyer!"

    Lt. Commander Konoe looks askance at her. "I thought Shimakaze won."

    Shiratsuyu shrugs. "She thought she could outrun me. Maybe… Maybe." She pulls out a depth charge, tossing it up and down like a hand grenade, and grins. "She couldn't outsmart depth charge."

    Konoe takes it from Shiratsuyu, who seems nonplussed by it. He scratches his nose and nods. Reacting will only spur her on. "Akashi told me that they're still acting like small children. Though, to be fair… They already do. So."

    Shiratsuyu looks at him. She shrugs. "As long as I'm first, I'm happy."

    "You seem awfully happy with life, considering how many MPs are in the medbay because of you."

    "Should've thrown the depth charges first, Lt. Commander."

    "I feel like you haven't learned a single damn thing."

    "Eh, first thing tomor--"

    The door is torn off its hinges and tossed aside. Isokaze steps through the once-doorway, a metal bokken in hand. Which is like a wooden bokken, but can very easily double as a murder weapon. "Hello, Lt. Commander Konoe," she greets politely.

    "There was a door."

    She glances at it. "Not anymore."

    The Lt. Commander sighs. He feels no fear. Fear is for people who don't have to manage small girl-sharks who are also warships who are also simultaneously smart enough to execute complex naval battle tactics on the fly and dumb enough to play dodgeball with depth charges.

    Wow. Fuck his life. He almost liked it better when angry ghost ships were threatening to eat his entire family.

    He palms his face and resists the urge to sob like a bitch. "Okay… Isokaze, what now?"

    She looks at him. The Kagerou-Class Destroyer claps her hands together. Her face remains fully emotionless. "Cake."

    He tilts his head. "Cake?"

    She nods. "Cake."

    "...Could you elaborate--"

    The walls explode. Destroyers flood in from all directions, each of them carrying some sort of colourful creamy culinary confection and trying to shove it into his face. Lt. Commander Konoe barely evades the flood of small boatgirls by jumping up and hanging off his ceiling light.

    The very flimsy ceiling light literally hanging by a thread. Well, wire.

    Shit.

    "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" The destroyers - every destroyer, from Yuudachi to Fubuki to Ayanami to Shiranui - loudly cheer. They raise their cakes to him. The Lt. Commander recoils higher into the ceiling. Only sheer survival instinct keeps him from falling into the teeming pool of sharks now. Small, huggable sharks with torpedoes and cake. And how the fuck did they all fit into his tiny--

    Focus. Focus. Make them leave.

    "Today is not my birthday!"

    The Destroyers look at one another. "But the Admiral said it was!"

    "Old man I'm going to beat you to death with an oversized scroll," he mutters darkly, but not so loud that the destroyers can hear. A sudden chill runs down his spine. "Wait, where's--"

    "BURNING BIRTHDAY LOOOOOOVE!"

    The ceiling explodes. A cake is mashed into his face. And then another. And then another. And then another. Four cakes, full-sized cakes that could feed a family each, shoved into his windpipe at blinding speed.

    Lt. Commander Konoe falls into the Destroyers, blind and deaf and tasting only cake. He is soon consumed by a cacophony of noise and baked goods.

    At least it was not yam cake.

    ----

    "Happy birthday, Lt. Commander."

    "Fuck you."

    The Lt. Commander sneezes and candles fall out his nose. God, how he hates his life.

    The Admiral chuckles and reaches behind his chair. "The MPs enjoyed their day off, and wanted to show their appreciation." He takes out a large box, wider than his chest, and sets it on the table.

    The Lt. Commander opens it quickly, hoping it is something he could use, like a cyanide pill. But inside the comically large box, all he sees is a single gift card, written 'Get Dess Soon', and signed by every single member of the Military Police.

    He turns to the Admiral. He has his hands clasped again, hiding his expression, but they both know he is cackling where it matters. "Why," he says with the frosty chill of death.

    "The MPs needed a holiday and I needed to laugh," the Admiral replies. "Did you know that laughing once a day is good for your health?"

    "It's a cardiovascular exercise," the Lt. Commander responds. He fishes the depth charge out of his pocket. "Kind of like Dodge Depth Charge with the Desstroyers."

    "BURNING ADMIRAL"

    "Hiei calm down please"

    The Admiral leans back in his chair, arms folded behind his head. "Do what you will. I have already won."
     
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    • 9: Meet (Three of) The Fletchers
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    • 2026, September

    "Are you sure, Admiral? Everything is fine?"

    "Of course, Myoukou. Everything is fine." The Admiral leans back against his chair and takes a pull of tea. He chuckles, shaking his head. "Either way, we're too far gone to turn around. We're low on fuel."

    "...Alright. I'm just a little concerned. For me, for you… For everyone."

    "Don't worry. I'll be there, every step of the way." He looks up, and sees Captain Kaita nodding at him. Newly-promoted Admiral Takamichi stands and puts on his hat, as the bridge crew make their final preparations. "Just hold formation. We should be in safe waters soon enough."

    "Right… Safe. We'll see you soon, Admiral."

    "And you." Takamichi hands off the headset to an ensign and takes his place beside Captain Jinrou Kaita, watching the horizon. Soon, they'll be able to see the West Coast. And then he will have to get to work.

    "We should be arriving at San Diego in a few hours," Kaita says beside him. His gaze is steady as he scans his bridge, keeping eyes on the various screens and readouts available to him. Constantly vigilant for the threat from below. "We've just passed a checkpoint. We'll have air cover in thirty seconds."

    "Plenty of time to get eaten by fog and ghost ships," Takamichi responds dryly to him. Kaita smirks at the remark but allows himself no further emotion. He has always been stern and unforgiving with his command, and the last few months have only reinforced that.

    "...Still strange, isn't it?"

    Takamichi glances at his old friend and colleague with an erstwhile smile. "Twenty years, and you make smalltalk now?"

    "I have to get on your level somehow," he responds. "How you got promoted instead of me will be a question for the ages."

    "It involved a clam shell, tiny miniskirts, and two angry durians."

    They share a soft chuckle at their private joke, and continue looking forward at the horizon. The bridge is familiar to Takamichi, comfortingly so. He smiles just for the novelty of being in one again. To feel the ambience again… it is nice.

    "Can I tell you something, Takamichi?"

    "Go ahead, Kaita."

    Captain Kaita takes a breath. "Myoukou reminds me of my daughter."

    "Ah," Takamichi nods. "Yes, I can see the similarities."

    "She reminds me of my daughter and she's going to fight the Abyssals." Kaita sighs and shakes his head. "I know they are warships. I know they were born to fight and they returned to fight. But I do not like that they fight, not when they look like that."

    "Like people?"

    "Like girls. But they could be boys and I would dislike it all the same."

    Takamichi nods. What can he say, but to agree? "I will look after them, Kaita. Rest easy."

    He smiles. "Thank you, Takamichi. I shall enjoy retirement."

    "Couldn't stand me outranking you, could you?"

    "That may also be true," Kaita admits.

    "JDS Fleet, this is the US Coast Guard. We will be escorting your approach. Please transmit clearance codes."

    Kaita nods at his crew and pushes a button by his console. "US Coast Guard, this is the JDS Maya, transmitting codes now. Admiral Takamichi is on board."

    "Receiving… Codes clear, Maya. Welcome to San Diego."

    "Welp," Admiral Takamichi mutters under his breath, "Time to beg, borrow, and steal."

    ----

    2027, March

    While the battleships did battlethings in their own room, the Destroyers had a predicament of their own.

    "Oh my poi there are Fletchers with us," Yuudachi says, pressing her hands onto her cheeks. "Oh my poi there are Fletchers, Fubuki! I don't, like, know what to do!"

    "They're right here, you dunderhead," Asashio hisses across the table. She and Yuudachi glance at the destroyer with brown hair and cat ears - cat ears why does she have cat ears - looking politely at them, and wave at her.

    Fubuki wrings her fingers and taps them together, hoping to distract her nervousness. She fails completely. "S-So… Uh..."

    The destroyer in front of her smiles and extends a hand. Fubuki tries not to notice how slender and long her arms are, like the rest of her hull, and fails completely dammit radar. "USS Fletcher, DD-445. Pleased to meet you, Fubuki. I look forward to working with you in the attack."

    Right. This is their nameship. Fubuki files it away for future reference and tries to keep her screaming internal. She looks at the girls beside Fletcher, a blonde wearing a ponytail and a handkerchief over her head and a brunette with headphones. And, again, fails to ignore how all of them look about as developed and shapely as light cruisers.

    Fletcher chuckles, and points at the blonde. "This is Strong, my little sister." She points at the brunette. "And O'Bannon, my other little sister. We're part of DESRON 21, though technically we're in different divisions."

    "Right." Fubuki taps her fingers and then suddenly realises she never finished her greetings. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I'm Fubuki, and this is Yuudachi and Asashio!"

    "Poi~"

    "Please don't mess this up," Asashio sighs. And Fubuki doesn't know who she was addressing, which somehow makes it worse.

    Okay. Okay. Don't panic, Fubuki. Don't panic. You can make this work. You can talk to Fletchers. You don't have to think about how common they were, or how reliable they are, or how powerful they are, or how long their terms of service were, or how they look more adult and mature than she is, or… Dammit.

    ----

    Okay. Okay. Don't panic, Fletcher. Don't panic. You can make this work. You can talk to Fubuki. You don't have to think about how pivotal she was to your design, or how long she served, or what legacy she left, or how many battleships she's killed, or… Dammit.

    "So how many battleships have you killed?" Strong asks, moments before Fletcher did.

    "E-Eh?!" Fubuki jumps in her seat, and intensifies her intense game of me-myself-and-I Thumb War. "W-Well… I mean… N-Now, or b-before?"

    Fletcher sucks her teeth. Wow, she does not sound like anything the stories make her out to be. "A month ago, we heard your torpedo squadron engaged a surface task force, outnumbered two to one, and killed them all without taking any damage."

    "Oh oh!" Yuudachi punches the air and cheers, while beside her Asashio groans and covers her face. "Yeah, that totally happened! Fubuki told us to dump torps and Ushio baited their destroyers and we killed them all and Akagi and Kaga blew up their cruisers and battleships and then their battleships ate each other and then all these super cool images swooshed around and then Fubuki and I sunk the big mega super battleship! And then Maya got mad!"

    "You're part of her squadron?" O'Bannon asks.

    "Yep! And then last month before the campaign Fubuki like rammed a battleship, jumped on, jumped off, reversed, and it exploded!"

    "Holy shit," Strong says softly, and puts all their sentiment into words.

    Asashio starts making a noise like a deflating balloon.

    Fletcher glances at Fubuki, who is currently trying to vibrate through the earth, and tries to hide her wonder. Ever since they returned, DESRON 21 has bagged plenty of kills as an independent hunting squadron, but none of them have ever rammed anything. This girl did it, and apparently has ten battleships to her name?

    "So… How many kills do you guys have?"

    "I don't…" Fubuki covers her face and mutters something in japanese. At least, Fletcher assumes it's in japanese. She can't make sense of it. "I don't really want to talk about work right now… Could we discuss other things?"

    A potato rolls out on the table. Fubuki looks at it and blinks. She turns, and finds O'Bannon with a sack resting on her lap.

    "...Bannon," Fletcher starts.

    "It's not work," O'Bannon says defensively.

    "O'Bannon we're not doing this."

    "...I brought wires."

    "Do you guys have chips?" Strong asks.

    "We could put the wires in the chips."

    "O'Bannon stop. Potatoes are for eating."

    "And throwing," the black-haired destroyer says. She tilts her head in thought briefly. "And batteries."

    Fletcher sighs. So does Strong, though she tries to be enthusiastic about it anyways. Asashio, it seems, is trying to tear her face off, while Yuudachi is just tilting her head and going 'poi'. Fubuki, however…

    Fubuki is laughing.

    "Is something wrong?" Fletcher asks.

    Fubuki contains herself and looks away, clenching her trembling fists. "S-Sorry… It's just…" She sighs happily and wipes away a tear. "I didn't think you had to deal with the same things."

    "Why wouldn't I?" Fletcher asks. "I'm a big sister. I have to deal with little sisters doing dumb things."

    "Potatoes aren't dumb, Fletch."

    "Potatoes are for eating, Bannon, put them in your mouth."

    "No. They're poisonous raw."

    "...Poi?" Yuudachi asks.

    Asashio sighs, louder this time.

    "I don't know, but this helps." Fubuki smiles earnestly at her. "Thanks, Fletcher. I thought this was going to be awkward."

    "It's a little awkward," Strong says, as O'Bannon pulls out another potato with a fuse carved into it. "No. No. Bannon, no."

    "I don't get it, poi," Yuudachi says helpfully.

    "It's a depth charge," O'Bannon says quietly and happily.

    "Ohhhhh…" Yuudachi tilts her head harder. "Still don't get it."

    "Alright, let me explain…"

    "DD-450 O'Bannon you listen to me now and you listen good--"

    Fletcher looks at Fubuki. "Do you like books?"

    Fubuki nods. "Kinda."

    "Wanna talk about books?"

    "Yes please."

    Fletcher smiles and pulls out a thick paperback from her satchel. "So there's this guy called Issac…"
     
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