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Chapter Text

Commander Lilian Wei was not having it. From the massive stack of paperwork on her desk to the exercise reports, she just didn't want to bother. She sighed, looking out the window at the snow. It was rather cold, even for late spring. The snow came suddenly overnight, and her winter clothes were already in storage, so there was no choice but cold. Even the heaters didn't help much. She watched the snow fall for a while, thinking of the more important event that day. A shipgirl was ready, one that had been worked on for months. Her file was on Wei's desk, above a series of training manuals she was planning on giving to the Eagle Union destroyers. Wei sighed. Judging by the file, she would require some... work to fit into the fleet.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in." Don't be Akagi I swear, thought the commander. Akagi had been running around for days by then, trying to show her "everlasting love for our sweet shikkikan" at every opportunity, and pointing a turret at everyone who got in her way. Thankfully, it wasn't Akagi. Hood, Wei's secretary, was back from the break room, carrying a tea set on a tray. Hood set the tray on Wei's desk, poured a cup, and offered it to the commander. Wei smiled, accepting the drink, and sighed, trying to warm her hands up with the cup. The battlecruiser poured herself a cup, and placed the tray neatly atop a desk next to the window. "Commander," Hood said, "Anything you'd like finished? You seemed rather worried earlier." Wei thought for a while, pondering the stack of paperwork and how it was to be divided, when her eyes once again fell upon the stack of training manuals. "Oh! There's someone new coming today. I'd like you to meet her." Hood looked at the commander, surprised. "Hm? Shouldn't you send Warspite, or Prince of Wales? And just me?" It was customary to send a high-ranked ship of each nation to greet a newcomer, unless they were on important duties that day (as Hood was), in which case someone else would be selected instead. Wei checked her watch, and said, "Well, your set of... skills is necessary in this case. I don't think taking anyone else would be smart." Hood nodded, somewhat apprehensive. My... skills? For what? "And at what time is this meeting to take place?" Wei said, "In about half an hour. I'll meet you at the dock, in case you need to prepare."

Hood showed up to the dock early, in uniform. Fifteen minutes, precisely. She was to make a proper first impression, fitting of the Royal Navy's standards, and her more exacting personal ones. The commander showed up a few minutes later, shivering, still holding the same cup of tea as before. Hood took the extra time to think. What type of ship was coming? Of what nation? Wei hadn't explained any details, and given the need for Hood's skills, it wasn't likely to be a positive introduction. Hood was known around base for her ability to bridge people together. After all, she was the only reason why Prince of Wales and Prinz Eugen were able to at least stand each other (given the former's tendency to remember Denmark Strait a little too much, and the latter's tendency to bring it up a little too much as a joke), and why the nations didn't break into daily scuffles. While there was the odd fight here and then, Hood was quick to rectify the situation. Many the depressed shipgirl would stumble into the Royal Navy dorms and ask to see Hood about whatever they were dealing with, and so Hood gained a sort of reputation as a great mediator and soother. So whatever girl was to show up today wasn't going to be pleasant, put simply.

Actually, now that she thought of it, Eugen and Wales were together more often now. She would have to ask Wales when she got back.

A whoosh of wind disturbed her thoughts. Brushing a loose hair from off her lapel, Hood stood straight, looking forward, hands clasped in front of her, smiling gently. A speck on the horizon was fast approaching, growing closer and closer. Hood could barely make out a black blot, which quickly rushed into full view. The new girl gracefully jumped - no, simply strode- from the water onto the dock. Hood's breath hitched a little, to see the newcomer fully. Hood was by no means a short woman, by her impressions, but the other at the end of the dock seemed to tower over her, even though she didn't seem more than a head taller. Perhaps it was the heels. Her cloak fluttered lightly in the wind, white hair flowing around. An Ironblood. Even though Hood was starting to feel some of the cold, the other shipgirl didn't seem to be fazed. Appearing to notice Hood's eyes on her, she let out a scoff and said, "I am Zeppelin. Even though I'd rather discard this name, for convenience's sake you can call me that. My wish? To destroy the world, and I am not going to ask for your help, because, you have long been part of it."

Graf Zeppelin was not impressed. She was met on the dock by a Royal Navy ship, of all people to be met by, and her commander did not seem impressive. At least the commander seemed to have functional vocal chords. The Royal Navy ship, "Hood" apparently, barely let out a few words as she shook her hand, although the handshake was fairly strong. Not that it mattered. The commander's was as well, and was introduced as Lilian Wei. Apparently it was nice to meet Zeppelin. Humans and their vain pursuits. At least Wei appeared to be somewhat competent at organising a base, judging by how efficient everything seemed. Wei gave her a quick tour of the base, showing her the dorms, the command office, the academy, and so on. "Hood" followed, occasionally contributing a word or two. Zeppelin could feel the shipgirl's eyes looking at her, even though Hood averted her gaze every time Zeppelin turned her head. Such an interesting character. The commander took a look at her watch, said something about exercise reports, and turned Zeppelin over to Hood around the common building. Zeppelin wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or not.

Hood still hadn't come to terms with the new carrier. It wasn't anything about her visually, although her uniform and rigging certainly were imposing. It was her demeanour, which seemed to radiate about her, at least to Hood. She tried to study her as they toured the base, attempting to discern some sort of reason for Zeppelin's mood. When the commander told them to introduce each other in a common room, she was frankly unprepared. The two shipgirls walked down a hallway. Not proper form, Hood thought. I should be more focused, less fazed. The battlecruiser missed the proper room, and instead opened the door to a party among what seemed like most of the base's destroyers. Zeppelin did that scoff again, murmuring something under her breath. Finally, the correct room was opened, and the two sat down at a reasonably-sized desk. Zeppelin crossed her legs, unblinking and unmoving, looking at the wall behind Hood intently. After what seemed to be eternity, Hood finally spoke up, asking, "Could I get you something to drink? Tea? Coffee?"

"Water's fine," Zeppelin replied, entirely unfazed, still remaining in the same static position. Hood walked to the small kitchen at the end of the hallway and filled a glass with water, sighing. This will be harder than I thought.

Zeppelin had received the glass, and now at least occasionally moved to take sips. The two still remained silent. Hood was getting uncomfortable, and started fidgeting with the edge of her dress. "Is there any reason I am here, or is this another waste of time?" Zeppelin finally spoke. "N-No, Commander Wei merely asked us to make introductions." The carrier let out a dry laugh. "There's nothing worth knowing about me, nothing you would understand, anyway." Hood was rather taken aback. "...Well, since today doesn't seem to be productive, perhaps you'd like to return to your dorms?" At which Zeppelin promptly got up, opened the door, and walked out. Hood was preparing to get up as well when Zeppelin called from the hallway, "There's no need to follow, I would likely get more lost with you." Then the door out of the common building opened, and closed. Hood sighed, and began to reorganise the room in preparation to return to the office, returning Zeppelin's glass to the kitchen. So it goes

"I didn't expect you this early, Hood." Wei was at her desk, typing out a report.

"Oh, well, our chat ended early. Is there a problem, Commander?"

"No, not at all. I just thought you'd take longer. How did it go?"

Hood took her seat, and opened a binder of paperwork from earlier. "It was... Alright."

Wei chortled a little, and said, "It went shit, didn't it?"

Hood paused her writing, pen held in mid-air, and asked, "How did you know?"

Wei looked up from her monitor, and took a folder off of a stack of manuals. "Here. Sorry for not giving it to you earlier, I thought things would go smoother."

Hood received the folder, and sat back down. Ironblood Aircraft Carrier Graf Zeppelin, she read. Constantly delayed construction. Used as store ship. Hood furrowed her brow. A few delays and some intermittent use wouldn't cause such trouble, usually at least. Attacked. Ordered to be scrapped. Sunk, dredged up, and used for target practice. Hood shuddered a little, thinking of the explosion. Ah. That might have done it. "Commander?"

Wei continued typing. "Yes?"

"May I borrow Zeppelin's file for a few days?"

"Ah, sure, you can keep it even. There's copies on the database." Hood stowed the file in her briefcase, absentmindedly filling out paperwork, thinking about the cycle of events that made the new carrier so cold. Hood had seen her share of despair, at the hands of the Ironblood no less, but to be so abused? Such a history was unheard of. Suddenly realising that she'd been drawing loops over a form, she sighed and got another off a shelf.

The Ironblood dorms were in a timber-framed building, evocative of traditional German architecture, situated atop a small hill. Zeppelin was welcomed by Prinz Eugen, out of uniform, who was busying herself with a cell phone on the couch. Eugen was happy to see her, for some odd reason. Zeppelin would never get that. Why humans and shipgirls would say they were happy to see each other. It all didn't matter at the end, anyhow. Eugen, taking a caddy of beer from the kitchen, showed her the common room. There was a reasonably-sized library, kitchen, and musical instruments hung on a rack next to a bookshelf. Eugen, appearing to notice the carrier's fixation upon the instruments, was quick to explain. "The violin's Spee's, the cello's Tirpitz's, and the viola's mine. Bismarck's bass is upstairs. We play together sometimes." Zeppelin nodded. There also seemed to be an upright piano, and a shelf bursting with sheet music. Eugen pulled out a bottle of water, offering it to Zeppelin. She accepted it, popping the cap off. Eugen paused a bit, studying Zeppelin. "The others should be in the mess hall currently, I'll ask them to bring you something."

"That won't be necessary."

Silence ensued, with the only sounds being the fireplace and Eugen opening a bottle for herself, until she asked, "So... how was your first day?"

"The commander, is she competent?" Eugen thought for a while, and said, "She's pretty good. There's a lot of freedom around the base, we can make many decisions and be properly supplied for them."Zeppelin scoffed at freedom. What difference does it make? "I've heard that in other bases, the commanders marry almost all of their girls. Kommandant hasn't chosen yet but will only marry one, and we're allowed to marry each other if we feel strongly enough." Zeppelin found that idea absurd as well, noticing Eugen's slight blush but deciding not to ask. Love, hate, what difference is there? Does it not all go to waste? The carrier was busy studying the fireplace mantle when Eugen spoke again, "So, who showed you around?" "Ah, the Commander and a Royal Navy girl. 'Hood', I believe it was."

Eugen nodded. "Good to have Hood showing you around. She really knows her stuff."

Zeppelin scoffed, "It didn't appear to be the case. Why do you respect her so?"

"Well, she's good at forgiving, given our history." Upon Zeppelin lifting a brow inquisitively, Eugen picked a book off of the coffee table and handed it to Zeppelin. "Read this. It'll explain. Anyway, she stops the inter-nation fights around base. She's also very understanding, you can ask Spee about that." Eugen's phone rang, and she blushed a little more after reading the screen. "Oh, sorry! I'm out! Your meal card's on your bed, in case you want to get food later. Spee also made schnitzel, it's in the fridge. If anyone asks where I am, tell them the Royal Navy dorms. Cya! " Eugen grabbed a coat off of a peg next to the door, burst through the door, and ran off, saying something about "mein geliebte" into her phone. It was growing dark, and Zeppelin *was* a bit hungry, so she climbed the spiral staircase to the rooms, leaving the decision on whether to eat in the dorms or mess to later.

Her room was simply accommodated. Queen-size bed. Closet, with dress clothing hung in a corner. Extra uniforms neatly folded. Computer on a desk below the window. Moderately-sized bathroom, with supplies adequately stocked. An empty bookcase, in which Zeppelin promptly placed the book Eugen gave her. On Zeppelin's pillow, a small handmade purse containing her meal card, ID card, a map, and keys to the dorms. There was also a phone charging on the nightstand, and a sticky note with "Password: weakpassword. Set your own afterwards." in neat cursive. Finally, a simple black nightgown and bathrobe, presumably to sleep in. Fair enough. There was another note, this time in someone else's small German print, spelling out the laundry, food, and other schedules and rules of the Ironblood dorm. Zeppelin didn't feel like owing a debt to Spee for food so early in her stay, so she slung the purse over her shoulder and found her way to the mess hall. It was dark then, but the faint glow of the snowy sky and streetlamps were sufficient light. She made her way past the dark administrative buildings and classrooms, past the path down to the sea. The mess hall was unoccupied, so she quickly ordered from an automated server, took a seat nearest to the ocean and picked at her potato fry.

Hood was welcomed home by Wales cooking down the hall, with a apron draped over her uniform. "How was your day? Dinner will be ready shortly." Hood sighed, hanging her coat up, and changing into more casual shoes. "Oh, it was alright. Same work as usual." Wales looked up from a pan, concerned. "Heard you had to meet a newcomer today, was it fine?" Hood paused her ascent up the stairs, saying, "Certainly. I'll be down shortly."

Hood lived on the top floor, with the roof slanting down on one side of her room. It definitely interfered with usable space, but was nonetheless tolerable. She had a closet and shelving built into the slanted part, so that the bedding area had more vertical space. A work table next to the door, with more bookshelves next to it, each shelf a mixture of mementos and reference documents. It seemed a bit neater than before, no doubt thanks to the work of Belfast. The battlecruiser hung her messenger bag off her chair, opened the closet, and changed into a sweater and pants. She then unpacked her work bag, neatly setting binders on her table. She paused a little when she got to Zeppelin's file, but then set it neatly on her nightstand.

By then, Wales was finished cooking. It seemed that she had made roast chicken, and was just finished preparing a side dish of asparagus. Other sides were laid out around the kitchen counter, letting off a fragrant smell. Quantities seemed a little excessive, but that meant less work for the days after. "Most of the other girls are already done, they went by the mess earlier. Belfast should come soon, though." As if on cue, Belfast said from at least a floor up,"Is supper ready? I wouldn't mind a break from sorting this bloody supply closet." Wales chuckled a little, hanging the apron up. "Of course. I guess you two can set the table. I'll go change."

Hood was about to go to sleep. Early to bed, early to rise. There were countless things to do the next day, and being tired would be no use, even with constant tea consumption. Downstairs, she thought she heard Wales in conversation with someone, but it didn't occur to her to check. She instead put down Zeppelin's file after reading it for the tenth time, setting it on her nightstand, and picked up her copy of The Old Man and the Sea. The Northern Parliament girls seemed to be having a gathering in the administrative commons, at least from what Hood could make out. Gangut and Chapayev appeared to be having tea out of a samovar, engaged in what seemed to be a very opinionated discussion, occasionally asking the others to contribute. Avrora was reading a very thick volume by the fire pit, covered by a... rug?, and Grozny appeared to be asleep nearby. Tashkent was almost finished with a snowman, Sovetskaya Rossiya standing rod-straight nearby with a carrot in her hands, as if it was some sort of sword being presented to the destroyer. Hood smiled a little, turning her eyes to the mess hall. It was usually open late into the night, but left unoccupied. Someone was sitting at a seat closest to the sea, looking out at the waves. Zeppelin. Hood looked for a while longer, trying to see what the carrier was doing. Zeppelin seemed to be eating, looking at the ocean occasionally. After a few minutes, she pulled out the blinds, turned off the lamp, and went to bed. Wales was still conversing, and a few moments later, Hood thought she heard the door shut.

Chapter Text

Zeppelin awoke to the sound and smell of eggs frying. She sighed a little, checking the clock. It was 6:07. She'd slept well enough the night before, and she didn't see much of a point in trying to sleep more. After a ice-cold two-minute shower, uniform change, and making her bed, she was out the door and down the stairs.

It seemed that most of her compatriots were there. The destroyers were apparently housed in a separate building connected to the school, although a few higher-ranked ones did live in their respective dorms. For example, just then, Z23 was busying herself with the toaster. Spee was the one frying the eggs, and almost immediately noticed Zeppelin. "Hello. Pleased to meet you." Zeppelin shook her hand. "Don't worry about eating food others have made, cooking isn't work for me, it's rather fun." Evidently she had noticed the lack of progress on the schnitzel. "Duly noted." Zeppelin found it rather strange how Spee would find cooking fun. Was it not another duty to be fulfilled? And for what?

Tirpitz, who had just finished making the morning's coffee, turned around. "Bismarck should be up from the pantry soon, not sure why Eugen isn't present. Take a seat, everything's been taken care of. Good meeting you." By then, Z23 had turned around to see what the ruckus was about, and looked a little bit scared upon seeing the new carrier. "U-uhh, hi. I-I'm Z23." Zeppelin nodded, and Z23 turned back to the bread, face flushed. She would never understand why destroyers would act as if they had something to lose. Finally, Bismarck came up from the basement pantry, carrying jars of blackberry jam and Nutella. She set it on the counter, and also shook Zeppelin's hand. "Greetings. Breakfast is almost ready."

The four Ironbloods were halfway through breakfast when Eugen finally stumbled down the stairs, yawning. She hadn't changed into uniform, and was still wearing her sleepwear, which appeared to be a white T-shirt for some band and sport shorts. "Eugen, you are twenty minutes late. You also, evidently, did not sleep in the proper way. Do you have an explanation?", Bismarck asked. Silence hung in the air as Eugen blinked a little. "Oh, uhh... I was r-reading manuals last night and fell asleep." The battleship chuckled, holding her fork in mid-air, egg affixed. "And before that? Next time leave a note when you see your lover, alright? When we got back, Zeppelin was out." Eugen now started to show a faint blush, stammering out an "o-okay". "You should go change, I'll leave some food for you," Spee said, not looking up from her half of toast, which was in the process of being buttered. Eugen trudged back up the stairs. Tirpitz sighed, setting down an orange she'd finished peeling. "Sadly Hipper and Roon are on a mission, they would be tougher on her." Spee had finished by then, and was washing her plate. "There's no need to be so serious about such simple matters, no?" Tirpitz laughed a little. "Ja, I think Bismarck over here needs to work on her communication skills." Bismarck groaned into her coffee. "Or is it you who needs to work on their discipline?" Z23 rolled her eyes and forcefully stabbed a piece of salami with her fork.

Hood was in the office at 6:30, as per usual. The commander was already up, having elected to get a little sleep on the couch after working late into the night. Wei looked dead, frankly. She had already gone through two shots of espresso, and was halfway through a third. "Commander, consuming an excess of caffeine is detrimental to your well-being. Perhaps you'd get some rest today?"

Wei shook her head, laughing a bitter laugh. "And leave it all to you? At least I knocked out the reports last night, paperwork and the commission sign-up board are all that's left. Then I rest." She had set up a first-come first-serve system for commissions, and it certainly did its job, although Akagi was permanently banned after... previous mishaps. Had it not been for some work by Kaga and Shoukaku (and some coaxing on Hood's part), the base would be long gone. Hood turned back to her set of paperwork. Thankfully, it was smaller than the previous day, and the majority was simple. So she worked away, her neat print slowly saturating each of the pages.

"I'd like you to talk to Zeppelin again." Hood didn't look up, taking a sip of her Earl Grey and sighing. "I assume the same location, same time?"

"Yeah, she should be notified, so you won't need to track her down."

"Alright."

After helping clear the table, Zeppelin was informed by text message that she was free for the day, and that any serious duties would start the next. However, she was "strongly encouraged" to tail a girl from her dorm to experience daily life. The carrier decided to tail Bismarck, given her role as the de facto leader. The battleship appeared to be fairly competent, and could at least be expected to do *something* during the day. Comparatively, Zeppelin's impressions of Eugen were degrading by the minute, especially considering that she still hadn't finished breakfast.

Bismarck lead her out the door, waving goodbye to Eugen, who was picking at her eggs. The battleship silently lead Zeppelin down the hill, pulling a bulky metal carryall behind her. The sun was growing light, and a light snow still fell. The oaks and maples around the base were covered in snow, icicles dangling off the sides. The two walked silently.

The two were soon at the depot, a squat warehouse with a series of garage doors in the front. Akashi was at the reception desk, sipping a fragrant cup of green tea. "Welcome, nyaa." Bismarck scanned her ID card against a metal door, and it clicked open. Zeppelin immediately developed a low opinion for the repair ship. A lazy cat. Wonderful.

It seemed that Enterprise was there, lifting some supply crates into her red wooden wagon, sleeves rolled up. She acknowledged Bismarck's presence, giving pause to Zeppelin, and waved a hello too. Zeppelin blinked back, and Enterprise turned back to her work, embarrassed. Bismarck gave the carrier her blue lanyard. "Go to the printer there and scan my card, it should print a list." Zeppelin nodded. The battleship seemed to be efficient in public, which Zeppelin at least appreciated. It would all be destroyed anyway, so why waste away in the futile? Better to get something done before it was all gone. Better to have control. The printer whirred away, producing a short spreadsheet neatly tabulating their resource allotment.

Almost exactly twenty minutes later, Zeppelin and Bismarck exited the depot, cart neatly filled. Finding things wasn't nearly as hard as Zeppelin expected, as Akashi was surprisingly competent at organising, contrary to her initial expectations. Akashi was engaged in what seemed to be an inventory update on her computer. "Thank nyaa for coming by! Come to the store sometime nyaa!" Bismarck waved back at Akashi, and the two Ironbloods were out. They climbed the hill to the Ironblood dorm again. By then, it was fully light, sun shining blindingly upon the snow, a few clouds dotting the sky. The battleship unlocked the door again, pushing the carryall in. "Usually there's a mechanical system to distribute resources, but to familiarise you with our rooms, we'll do it manually today." The two lifted manuals and plates out of the box, setting them onto the table used for breakfast.

Eugen had thankfully left, at least bothering enough to wash her dishes. Bismarck had pulled out a small set of plastic totes, each labelled with an Ironblood's name, and, reading off of her phone, started to divide the resources. Zeppelin helped a little, leaning over to read off of the spreadsheet. They ended up with two stacks, evidently designed for division among the two girls present. Thorough, at least, this Bismarck. By then, Bismarck had already gone upstairs and had finished unlocking all of the rooms. And so the two began their distribution.

Zeppelin was assigned the right side of the hallway, compared to Bismarck's left. This included her room, Hipper's, Eugen's, Spee's and Roon's. The base had a relatively low presence of non-destroyer ships, frankly, with only a few of each nation. At least it made management less of a hassle. She opened her door first, setting the container on her desk. Nothing looked out of place, although she did notice the book Eugen gave her again. She would have to read it at some point, likely, to at least justify giving it back.

The next room was Hipper's. It was fairly well organised, although some miscellaneous clothing wasn't in its place. Memorabilia was hung and placed about the room, most notably a large "Initial D" poster above her headboard. A variety of mechanical equipment and tools were hung messily on a pegboard. Some sort of ship model occupied the majority of her desk space. Zeppelin naturally wasn't going to bother with organising anything, even despite the... questionable choice of preferred media. But it didn't matter much, and so she set the container on her desk.

Eugen's room was actually neater, by virtue of a significant quantity of storage containers. The aforementioned manuals were indeed stacked on her desk. Eugen had opted for a variety of album covers, apparently, all of them by Pink Floyd. Her shelves were occupied by a rather large library of actually reasonably intellectual literature (by Zeppelin's view), as well as a variety of electronic equipment. Thankfully for the carrier, her desk was fairly organised, and so the tub was simply placed next to her keyboard.

Spee's space appeared to be increasingly chaotic as Zeppelin approached her desk. The closet was neatly organised by colour. Her bookcase was methodically striped by height and colour. However, her desk was an eruption of notepads, sticky notes, reference books, a pair of very large headphones, and a random mug atop it all. It all looked rather complicated to Zeppelin, especially her significantly larger computer and two monitors. A small potted succulent, labelled in cursive as "Peter" with a small sticky note, was perched atop the computer case. Ah. She provided the phone. Wonderful. A System of a Down poster occupied the remaining space next to her desk. Seeing no other reasonable alternative to reorganising the heavy cruiser's jumble of materials, Zeppelin sighed and placed the tub on the bed.

Roon's quarters were vaguely ordered, surprisingly. She, for one, bothered to close her closet. The bookcase housed many small metal models of a variety of animals and objects, each intricately detailed. Small plastic tubs of metal parts and gears were immediately below, along with a series of increasingly small screwdrivers. Her desk had a large work mat laid over it, a half-finished model set into a small cardboard box. Above, yet another System of a Down poster. There were also quite a few stuffed animals throughout the room - the Dragon Empery style rooster on the very top of the bookcase, the teddy bear clinging to the coat rack, and quite a few owls and other birds perched throughout. Zeppelin thought it was at least close to tasteful, although rather childish frankly. At least there was a good amount of space to set the final tub down on.

Bismarck was about finished as well, and the two walked down the stairs together. It was about 9, if the clock on the microwave was to be trusted. The battleship pulled out her phone again. "Ah, training at 9:20 with the Eagle Union girls." The pair went down the hill again, this time heading towards a entrance built into the coast.

The smell of salt and ocean overwhelmed Zeppelin. They were in a long hall opening to the ocean, with racks hanging from the concrete walls, each crowded with various riggings. She'd been there the previous day, to stow her rigging. It was at rack 23, at the second position in the middle row. Bismarck strode to a rack in the middle of the hall, 26 apparently, and took out her keys again. She unlocked a hoist, and a very bulky black metal box fell into her hands. She groaned a little under the weight, carrying it to a nearby stand. Zeppelin helped a little, remembering how much her rigging weighed. The battleship nodded in appreciation, pressing a button on the side and walking back at the box, which had already unfolded the waist supports. It promptly unfolded with a series of whirrs and clicks, turrets and hulls taking form, secondary guns coming out of their housings. She groaned a little under the weight, lifting it off of the rack. Bismarck, sadly, did not have Zeppelin's comfort of being able to sit on her rigging, it seemed. Comfort is but temporary. The two made their way out of the hall through the garage door open to the sea.

Enterprise and a few other Eagle Union ships were already warming up at the dock, delicately inserting torpedoes into their holsters and running a variety of diagnostics. Enterprise lazily waved in the two Ironbloods' direction. Bismarck waved, trying to smile a little. The battleship turned to Zeppelin. "We'll have to get planes and training for you. For now, you can sit at the sideline, or leave for about three hours." Zeppelin nodded, taking a seat at a nearby concrete bench. There wasn't much of entertainment value either way, so she saw it reasonable to see how combat was to be completed, and maybe learn how to deal with it all. Bismarck slowly stepped off of the dock, her rigging keeping her suspended above the water. The Eagle Union ships gradually followed suit, each carefully making their way into the water. Normally, the riggings were capable of withstanding the stress of being dropped from significant heights, but the point of training wasn't to test their durability. Ships of a few other nations were deployed on other parts of the coast, the bright green of their training blanks flashing about. Zeppelin thought she felt her stomach tighten a little, but ignored it. No reason for concern, likely something from breakfast. By then, the shipgirls on the water had already divided into their teams, and started their exercise. Zeppelin watched as Enterprise released her first wave of planes, dotting the clear blue sky in small "v"s; heard the varied chatter, the sounds of torpedoes being released. She shivered a little, her core still tense. It would be fine. Good things come to those who wait.

Hood had finally finished her paperwork. She rubbed her eyes a little, closing her binder and packing her messenger bag. Wei looked up from the commission sign-ups, already filled, even despite being posted a mere thirty minutes prior, which she was entering into her computer. "Commander, here are the necessary documents. Might I be of use elsewhere today?" Wei looked up, lifting her glasses. "Nothing much, remember your chat this afternoon. Have a good day."

Hood nodded. "Don't forget to eat rest after you have finished, Commander. I'll come by during the afternoon and see if anything new has come up. Would you like food from the mess?"

Wei had turned back to her sign-ups. "It's alright, there's leftovers in the fridge. Thanks though, don't forget your chat this afternoon."

The battlecruiser nodded, closing the door behind her. The building's hallways were quiet, the faint sounds of heels clicking against the tile floors occasionally interrupting the silence. She checked her watch, a simple analogue piece she'd purchased on commission long ago. A Swedish one, if she remembered correctly. It indicated 11:32, a reasonable time for early lunch. She called a lift, one arriving from the floor below in a matter of seconds. While crossing the administrative commons, she could see the Eagle Union girls practicing on the water. Enterprise had just been "knocked out", and was taking her displeasure out on a laughing Cleveland by gently whacking her with the end of her bow. Bismarck stood nearby, desperately attempting to appear serious. A darkly-clothed figure sat at a bench nearby, stationary, occasionally lifting a hand to brush white hair out of her eyes. *Zeppelin.* Hood blinked a little. She'd grown to feel a little sympathy for the carrier, really, even despite her rather repulsive attitude.

The battlecruiser had just started moving when someone called out to her. "Out early? I thought we'd have lunch together. Perfect day, isn't it?" She turned around. Wales had apparently finished with her duties that morning, whatever they may have been. "Ah, hello Wales. Yes, beautiful day indeed. I do believe we'll have lunch together." Hood took a fleeting glance at the Eagle Union training. Enterprise was now in the process of hurling all available planes at a mildly surprised Cleveland, although the light cruiser's vanguard was almost immediately shooting the carelessly deployed planes down. Wales had turned briefly to look too, and chuckled a little. "Come, let's go. Before the horde appears, yes?" Hood nodded, following.

"Say, who were you talking with last night?"

The battleship paused for a fraction of a second, before saying, "Ah, a friend."

"A friend, I see. Who might they be?" Wales paused for a little longer this time, Hood swore she saw her ears redden a little.

"Uh, Saint Louis, yes. Saint Louis."

"Why, I didn't know you'd become acquaintances with Saint Louis. I've never seen you two around each other before."

"Oh, sorry, uh, Seattle. I get them confused rather often, silly me. She rather likes my cooking, you see. Very much, yes."

"Ah. Very well." Wales turned her head to the other direction quickly, clearly relieved to be freed from the questioning. Hood didn't quite believe her, but she'd let it slip. She'd learnt not to ask so deeply about such topics after what Belfast jokingly called the "Great Stocking Fiasco". She'd also learned not to excessively bother Formidable, after seeing Wales' first-hand experience. Thankfully, Saint Louis just happened to be around, and Unicorn pulled off her standard pout tactic rather successfully, so the damage wasn't terrible. Not physically, at least.

The mess hall was thankfully relatively empty still, and the wonderful smell of vegetable soup emanated from the kitchen. Wales studied the manual service menu intently. "Oh how wonderful, it's soup day!" "Wales - " It was too late.

"Hello, could I please have soups 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6..."

"Wales, how are you going to pay for..."

"Just let me do it this time, please. Sorry, 7, 8, 9, and 10. Yes, extra garlic in 4 please. No, no cheese in 6. Thank you very much."

Hood sighed. Thankfully Saint Louis, who was managing the mess, didn't really care. "Hello, I'm rather sorry for my acquaintance here's poor behav-"

"Whose behaviour are you calling poor?" Wales called out from the other end of the counter

"Anyway, I'll have Sandwich A today, please. Thank you very much."

From the ordering window, Hood could see a visibly annoyed Sovetskaya Rossiya dishing up Wales' soups, muttering curses under her breath. The Northern Union battleship was chopping an entire bulb of garlic. Saint Louis looked over, blinked a little, and nodded approval, pulling a large block of cheese out from the open refrigerator. Oh dear. I suppose Wales deserves this.

Chapter Text

" Privyet ."

Gangut wasn't usually late. Mikasa sighed, turning around.

"What took you so long, someone had a hangover again?"

The Soviet battleship chuckled, a deep, pleasant "heh heh". " Nyet , Rossiya banned drinking on weekdays thanks to Chapayev. Besides, I had to get ready for you.~" She winked, making her dark-haired counterpart blush lightly. She'd opted for a gray skirt and red button-up under a thin brown jacket, retaining her uniform's heels and tights.

"Didn't realise your creaking joints took so long to stuff into casualwear, eh?"

"Same could be said to you." Mikasa rolled her eyes, laughing, her skirt and jacket fluttering in the breeze. She lightly punched Gangut's arm. "Shut up." The two walked to a small parking garage at the edge of base. Gangut's car was on the first floor, a old Volvo 240 in grey that government pension barely paid for. "Which car to take?"

Mikasa thought for a while. "Ran mine out of gas, I think."

Gangut smirked. "You're paying for mine. Get in."

The light smell of forest air freshener welcomed Mikasa as she situated herself in the passenger position. She'd always rather appreciate the smell, even if the freshener was long overdue for replacement, at least a few years old. Gangut turned the radio on, a talk show filling the cabin with sound. They pulled out of the parking garage, turning onto a highway into town. "So, what're we buying?"

Mikasa pulled a small list out of her purse. "Model ship, finished the ones in storage. Maybe snacks for Soryuu as thanks for not pissing me off every second of the day. Same with Takao, but nice paper, she's getting into calligraphy. Spray bottle, Kaga's requested it for Akagi control purposes. If only my lot weren't so much of a pain in the ass."

Gangut nodded, grinning. "Feels the same way. Need groceries and office supplies. We've been eating a lot at home lately, since Chapayev's not been eating well. Rossiya's had to cook meals for her instead of snacks to balance her consumption, and she doesn't even eat that. And babushka Gangut must help her grandchildren, no?"

"Avrora's better at it."

"She's on commission."

"Unfortunate for your 'grandchildren'."

"Let me drive, or I'll roll us off the road."

Mikasa rolled her eyes, opening a window. She stuck her hand out, feeling the cool breeze work its way through her fingers. It was a pleasantly sunny day, the rolling of the sea and its salty smell drifting with the air around her. Carefree, for once.

"You shouldn't do that, you know. Sets a bad example for the grandkids. You know, reminds me..."

Correction - almost carefree.

By the time they arrived at the mall, Gangut still hadn't finished her story. "So then Anna was sent to the infirmary. But the infirmary was full. So..."

"Look outside."

"We're here, glorious. Park closer?"

"Unless you enjoy walking yourself that distance."

Gangut smirked at her as she pulled the car into the parking spot. She keyed open the trunk, retrieving a few folded shopping totes, handing Mikasa two. At least she'd stopped telling her story, which Mikasa'd stopped paying attention almost immediately. They entered the mall, the cool rush of air conditioning a welcome contrast from the comparatively warm outside weather. "Office store first?" Gangut nodded. They made their way up an escalator, checking one of the map stands placed about the mall. The mall was sparsely populated, open for barely thirty minutes. Janitors were still finishing up their morning cleaning, and some stores still had the metal doors over their fronts. "You'd think after ferrying Rossiya's supplies so much you'd memorise the route, eh?"

Gangut rolled her eyes at Mikasa. "Try remembering what you had for lunch last Monday."

"Tempura, Zuikaku ended up eating too much and throwing up over my bed."

"You get the point."

By then, they'd made their way to the entrance of the office supply store, taking a shopping cart. Gangut pulled out her phone, scrolling through her messages. "Ah, first sticky notes." Finding the appropriate row, the two browsed the surprisingly wide selection. "These fit," Mikasa said, pointing towards a series of chibi dog sticky notes. "Heh. Rossiya asked specifically for white ones this time."

"Fun killer."

"Buy them, and wait till Rossiya knocks down your door."

Gangut took a package of white sticky notes off of a rack, and threw them into the cart. "Pen ink now."

"Rainbow?"

"Again, unless you want comrade Rossiya knocking down your door in the middle of the night, nyet ."

Mikasa fake-pouted at Gangut.

"Look, unless you want both of us to die, just go along with it."

"Fiiiiine." She took a small package of food-shaped erasers off of an opposing shelf, placing it in the cart. Gangut sighed. "It's for myself ."

"Very well."

Through some feat of planning, Rossiya's list was organised in order of aisles in the store, and by order within the aisle. Gangut and Mikasa were out of the store in fewer than twenty minutes, the automatic checkout certainly helping.

"Does she remember store aisles for fun?"

Gangut chuckled. "Probably. Just look at her friends."

"Fair enough." Saint Louis and King George V, Rossiya's frequent acquaintances, often partook in excruciatingly boring activities in public, often luring the unsuspecting bypasser into a few hours of "precision gardening". Perhaps they were joking, Mikasa would never know.

"Where to?" The Northern battleship spoke up, realising that they were walking about aimlessly.

"Crafts store, probably."

The crafts store was on the other end of the mall, a distant walk from the office store. More people had filtered in, although the walkways were hardly crowded.

"New A&B's store there, want to check it out?"

"Gangut..."

"Just because you shop for clothes at Walmart doesn't mean you get to complain. We're going."

Gangut dragged Mikasa by the arm into the clothing store, the Sakura battleship spouting protests as they made their way in.

"I'll have to wait for you to use the changing room again."

"I'll be quick this time."

"Like the two hours you spent last time for, what, a pair of pants and a dress?"

"I fell out of bed the night before..."

"Sure."

Alas, it was too late. Gangut had already started to select clothes. Mikasa leaned against a shelving unit, arms crossed, frowning. Gangut picked a floral dress off a rack. "This'd look good on you."

"Oh shut up."

"I'm always looking out for you."

"Sure you are."

Mikasa had to admit, at least Gangut was fast at picking clothes. It was the trying them on that always took time. Better than shopping with Shoukaku, at least. Zuikaku wisely refused to go to the mall with her sister on most occasions, for good reason. She'd spend two hours picking, two hours trying things on, and one hour selecting her final purchase.

"Going to the changing rooms. Your very keen eyesight might help me decide."

Gangut had thankfully picked only a few items, which she hung over one arm, other arm dragging the Sakura battleship along towards the changing rooms. Mikasa took a seat at one of the benches outside, pulling her phone out. She didn't use the device often, but had a few games on it for emergencies. Such as shopping with Shoukaku.

"Why, hello Lady Mikasa."

Mikasa raised her head from her sudoku. "Oh, hello Belfast! Didn't expect you around."

The royal maid smiled. "I could say the same. Out with your friend again?"

Mikasa nodded. "She's changing."

A gentle notification tone interrupted their conversation. Belfast pulled her phone out. "Ah, I'm very sorry. Lady Hood and Lady Formidable are finished already, and are keen on having their meal. Have a good day."

Mikasa waved a goodbye as Belfast made her way to the checkout counter. By then Gangut had changed into her first item, the floral dress she'd shown Mikasa earlier. "How is it?"

"Same as anything else you wear - hideous."

"Thanks for the help."

"Anytime. Check the damn mirror on your own."

Mikasa turned back to her phone, and more important issues, such as where the bloody seven was supposed to go in her puzzle, not noticing Gangut's middle finger discreetly raised in her direction.

"Look at you, I only did two sudokus today."

"See, I told you waiting wasn't that bad."

"Ah well. Crafts store. Try not to get distracted."

"Is that another new store I see?"

"Oh dear God." It was Mikasa's turn to drag Gangut, despite the Northern battleship's "sudden" awareness of a new store every minute.

Finally, they'd made their way to the crafts store. Mikasa made a B-line for the models section, Gangut following close behind, pretending not to be interested. Really, the two had built models together quite a few times. She still has their 1/48th T-34 on the shelf, the fully interior detailed one that Gangut had gotten her for her birthday. They'd stayed up two days straight to finish it. The engine bottom was still mangled from an incident twenty hours in.

"Oh, interesting. A Błyskawica."

Gangut peered around the aisle she was at, presumably the armour section. "Haven't seen one of those before."

Mikasa dropped the box in her bag, turning into Gangut's aisle. "What're you looking at?"

"Looking for an ELC EVEN. Need to complete my light tank collection. Nobody seems to make one though."

"I'm sure you could ask Tirpitz and Bismarck to make you one."

"Remember the Strv 74?"

Mikasa did remember. It took Gangut a few months to find the kit in the first place, and she'd had to bid for the kit, which she somehow won at 100 dollars. So perhaps hope wasn't lost.

"Right, Takao's paper. Kuso , forgot to ask her which type."

She picked up her phone, dialing the number. A quiet voice answered moments later. "Yes?"

"What brand of paper did you want?"

"Which ones are there?"

"Uh, Jingzhou paper, Yang.."

"Excellent, Jingzhou please."

"Will do."

"Thanks."

Mikasa picked up a roll of the paper. She nearly spat at the price. Thankfully Takao was paying for it. "Oh dear God."

"What?"

Gangut started laughing when she saw the fifty dollar price tag as well. Mikasa placed the roll into her bag, heading towards the checkout line. A blonde had just finished purchasing a Ju-87C model in the line ahead of her. "Hipper, is that you?"

"Who- who do you think you are? O-oh. Hi, I guess."

Mikasa chuckled. "So it is you. Having fun?"

"S-sure, my idiot sister's with her 'girlfriend' again doing who knows what. I'm heading back early, hmph."

"Ah, have a good day."

Hipper bolted out the door, the cashier barely handing her her receipt.

By the time the very friendly cashier at the crafts store had checked Mikasa's items out, it was already past noon. She and Gangut agreed to go eat lunch, even despite the now sizeable crowd of people around the mall.

"So, what're we having?"

"Burgers, probably."

Gangut visibly frowned. "Those things?"

"Order yourself a sub then. Either way, I'm ordering from a good place."

Even despite her protests, the two joined the ordering line together, gradually inching their way towards the counter.

"So, what's special about this one?"

"These are Japanese-style. So they actually taste like something."

"Hmph."

"Oh shut up. You should try the tonkatsu one."

"I'll think about it."

Mikasa ordered a rice burger, and she thought she heard Gangut order a tonkatsu. Within minutes, their orders were ready. They found a vacant table near a window, from which they had a limited view of the sea. "So, is this really as good as you say?"

"Mhm."

Gangut stared questioningly at her lunch, then cautiously took a bite.

"Not bad. Like the mushrooms too."

"Told you it wasn't going to be unbearable."

"Never said it was going to be unbearable." Gangut took a sip of her drink.

The Sakura battleship half-unwrapped her rice burger, holding the wrapper. "Sure. Mind dumping your fries into mine?"

"So you can embezzle them?"

"So we can share. Sharing is caring, I thought you'd understand."

"Fair enough."

For someone who thought the burger was merely "not bad", Gangut had finished it in under five minutes, leaving nothing but a few pieces of shredded lettuce behind. Mikasa was still working her way through hers, although she'd mostly been eating the fries. The light tartar sauce they came with was very good, and she'd started to use Gangut's instead.

"May I have a bite of yours?" Gangut asked, pointing at Mikasa's burger with a fry.

"Sure. I'm taking your fries and dip anyway." Mikasa held her burger out, which Gangut tore a sizeable chunk of.

"This one's better. Less fried."

"Then keep that in mind."

After Mikasa finished her burger, the two slowly worked down their pile of fries, sipping at their drinks.

"So, since you suggested my order, pay up."

"Oh, shut up."

"What can I say? I'm cheap." Gangut winked as she dumped her tray into a nearby garbage can.

Mikasa unhappily fished a ten dollar bill out of her wallet, tossing it at Gangut.

"Thanks."

Gangut and Mikasa's exit from the food court was interrupted by the recognition of two familiar faces. Prinz Eugen was situated atop Prince of Wales' lap, both eating out of one large tray, the Brit's left hand slowly descending upon the hem of the heavy cruiser's skirt. Gangut's look clued Mikasa in. Mikasa nodded, mischief clear in her eyes. The two walked steadily closer, still unnoticed. Mikasa cleared her throat audibly. "You two planning on... escalating things?" Prince of Wales turned around suddenly, almost dropping the heavy cruiser in her lap. "Why, hello." Eugen absentmindedly waved at the two, clearly less concerned. Gangut stepped forward. "Enjoy it while you can. Such things are harder when you're older."

"You'd know a thing or two about that, eh?" Mikasa replied, face smug.

"I'm not the one who complains about their spine every few minutes. Or the one who struggles to walk after." Gangut mimed a halting walk.

Wales had reddened a little, while Eugen, still in the battleship's lap, continued to pick tomatoes out of her salad. The two veteran battleships laughed at their unplanned cohesion.

"See you two. Just know that bedrooms are a thing, okay? Or hotel rooms if you're impatient." Mikasa winked, waving. Eugen and Wales waved back, presumably continuing with their lunch, carefree. Gangut called out, "Wales, you better behave, otherwise Rossiya will be informed. And by extension a particular sister of yours. Hood's here, too, I think I saw her a few tables over." The battleship jumped a little in her seat, untangling herself from Eugen, who begrudgingly took a seat next to her, pouting. Wales, seeing her girlfriend's disappointment, pecked her on the lips once and continued with her lunch.

The supermarket was smaller than any of the stores in the mall, situated along the outskirts. From the food court, Gangut and Mikasa had to cross a small portion of the parking lot, during which they debated the validity of making a stop at the car. "So, what's Rossiya ordered up for groceries?"

Gangut pulled her phone out again. "Fifteen apples, small bag of potatoes, bag of celery, two packages of ground pork, three rolls of sausage..."

"Yep, we're stopping at the car."

Gangut rolled her eyes, finding the right vehicle and unlocking the trunk. The two deposited their bags and walked off to the supermarket.

As much as Mikasa wanted to annoy her counterpart, their venture into the produce section was frankly uneventful, with the only vaguely exciting moment being the semi-decayed apple Gangut nearly crushed in her hands. They gradually wandered into the other parts of the store, wandering down the snack rows. "So, what should I get Soryuu?"

"Hm. Carrot sticks?"

"Very funny." Mikasa set a bag of chips into her basket. "This might work. I know she likes her wasabi-ginger."

"I guess. Look at these, though." Gangut chuckled, pointing at a extravagant display at the end of the aisle. "Premium-type old-production chips. Never thought I'd hear that in my life." Mikasa flipped a bag over, wrinkling her nose. "Oh dear, they're fifty dollars. Not even any special flavour, either."

"What're they doing, polishing the potatoes? Plating them with gold? Ah, reminds me of a story..."

"Oh quit it."

Mikasa tugged Gangut along into the home products section of the store, picking up a transparent pink bottle.

"What's all the rush?"

"Akagi might murder someone in this time, might as well make haste!"

From the checkout line, Gangut thought she could make out a very overburdened Belfast making her way out the store.

Their ride home was frankly uneventful, Gangut remembering that she had a story to tell and continuing on, repeating at least the latter twenty percent. When the two pulled into the parking garage again, it was already 2:00. "Another perfectly good day wasted, with you of all people."

Gangut rolled her eyes. "Where's my gas money?"

Mikasa mock-checked her wallet, faking panic. "Oh no, I ran out of cash."

Gangut fished Mikasa's phone out of her bag, prying it out of the case. She took the five dollars tucked in between, returning the phone to its owner.

"Thanks."

"Fuck you. Don't steal my bags, too. I'd like them back sometime."

"I'll keep that in mind."

The two parted ways, each flipping the other off behind their backs as they headed in opposite directions.

(sidenote here: italics is indicating non-English, whatever it may be.)

" I'm home ," Gangut called. Rossiya looked up from the cutting board, where she was chopping onions. She hadn't teared up at all, surprisingly. " Could you check the potatoes? " Gangut set the groceries down, lifting the lid of the pot.

" They're done. "

" Good, turn the stove off. Could you go tell Chapayev that her snack's ready? "

A voice called from upstairs, " I'M COMING, GEEZ !"

The two battleships in the kitchen laughed a little. As Gangut entered the downstairs office and put the remaining office supplies on Rossiya's table, Rossiya bellowed, " Wash your hands first! " Gangut heard a crash upstairs, followed by a stream of profanities, seemingly between Chapayev and Tashkent. " WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT TYPE OF LANGUAGE YOU LITTLE SHITS? CLEAN UP ALREADY !"

" YOU, OBVIOUSLY! "

Gangut quickly folded her shopping tote back up, heading up the stairs and locking herself into her room. She ran into Chapayev on the way up, her eyes begging the battleship for assistance. Gangut merely offered a smirk and continued up. Downstairs, she could hear Chapayev complaining. " Is this a pot or a dish? "

" Growing bodies need nutrition. "

" I'M NOT A CHILD! "

" You're still growing. Eat. "

Gangut switched her lamp on, turning back to her half-completed ASU-85. She thumbed the power switch of her computer and started to play Tchaikovsky, a particularly dramatic strings section coinciding with another outburst downstairs.

" I'M FULL! "

" No you aren't. "

" I'm home ," Mikasa called. The courtyard of the Sakura dorm was mostly empty, save for Shoukaku, who appeared to be doing some gardening. " Hehe~, welcome back. " Mikasa nodded. She made her way up the first flight of stairs, knocking on Takao's door. The response was almost immediate, the heavy cruiser's "ears" pointed up more than usual. " Thank you so much. Here's the money. " Takao pressed sixty dollars into Mikasa's hand. " Take the change, sorry for the trouble. Oh, uh, Soryuu's out right now, she'll be back in a while. " Moments later, Takao slid the door shut.

The next stop was Kaga's room, on the other end of the courtyard. It took a while until she showed up at the door, hair slightly out of position. " Sorry, I was fixing tea. Come in. " The battleship hesitated before entering Kaga's sparse room. They took seats at the table, Kaga pouring a small cup for Mikasa. " Thank you very much. Shoukaku pissed Akagi off this morning, so the arrival of this item is timely. " Mikasa nodded, pulling the spray bottle out of her bag. Just that second, the two heard angry voices in the garden. " Excuse me. " Kaga went swiftly to the bathroom, filling the bottle with water, then exiting the room. Mikasa took a sip of her tea, slightly chortling as she heard a scream and Shoukaku's infectious laugh. Kaga re-entered moments later, face brimming with satisfaction. " Excuse the wait. It does seem to be effective. "

Chapter Text

The waves lapped against the shore, pace undisturbed by gunfire. Enterprise had finally given up on exacting revenge upon Cleveland, the light cruiser snickering even while packing her rigging away. Bismarck, at the very least, had the competence to be efficient, exact. Training for war.

"Hungry?"

Bismarck.

"Nein. However, it is ... the correct time."

The pair exited the rigging hall, the glare of the midday sun briefly obscuring their vision.

Although the standard mid-day rush had died down, the mess hall was still crowded, with the exception of an empty patch around one set of tables, occupied instead by a mixture of liquids and overturned bowls. A yellow caution sign was placed nearby, warning visitors of the obvious. Enterprise, somehow, had found a table, empty save for a few drink containers. She waved at the two Ironblood, smiling. Bismarck hooked her coat over the back of her chair, leaning back and folding her arms, stifling a yawn. She squinted at the menu at the rear of the hall. "Mind ordering for me? There's some strategy Enterprise and I must review."

"...Sure."

"Two ham-and-cheese with tomato bisque. Here's my card. "

With Bismarck's card in hand, Zeppelin stood in the now decongested line, the glut distributed between the tables. "Ah, you're new. Bonjour. How may we serve you today?" A white-haired woman greeted her, red eyes surveying the carrier discreetly. Saint Louis.

"Perhaps chicken in pan sauce. My... leader ordered...'two ham-and-cheese with tomato bisque.'"

Saint Louis glanced over the counter, squinting a little. "Ah. Do tell her that she'd best keep her soup orders simple."

"I'll make sure of that."

"Thank you. Next, please!"

Saint Louis yelled something indistinct to another woman behind her, presumably the chef, who quickly went to work fulfilling the order. A minute later, she was presented with a tray at the service window - two plates, one significantly loaded; a large bowl of soup; a few smaller bowls; and a bottle glistening with condensation. She motioned towards the card scanning pad, turning before Zeppelin could recognise her.

Actually, now that she thought of it, she did see that face somewhere, far in the past. Sounds of shelling. Zeppelin shook her head and set course for her seat.

It surprised Zeppelin how long one could prolong the consumption of food, the prime example being Enterprise. She somehow had managed to get a stunning tenth or so of her sandwich finished in the time Zeppelin ordered. Bismarck took her order readily, muttering a "thanks" to Zeppelin.

"Saint Louis asked me to tell you that 'you'd best keep your soup orders simple.'"

Bismarck chortled a little mid-bite. "Noted. Even I am not so brave."

Zeppelin cut into her chicken, pretending not to be curious. Enterprise, however, somehow managed to read her mind, Bismarck looking on with a knowing smile.

"Pissing Saint Louis off is a death sentence."

"Mm."

"Seriously. Every month, Rossiya and Louis put together a soup day, which wouldn't be such a problem if Prince of Wales didn't overorder. So, they remove one of her points on their hit list and fuck her order up. She should be on one point now, probably going to get killed the next time."

Zeppelin nodded, feigning understanding. "Very well."

Rossiya. A distant name in a distant past, calling out to her. The sounds of shelling grew stronger in her ears. Rossiya.

Cold water, snow...

"What's up?" Enterprise looked on.

Zeppelin blinked out of her frozen state. "The sky."

"Ha ha. Need anything?"

"I'm *fine*."

"Okay. Just making sure." Enterprise's face twitched a little, from concern to mild shock back to concern. A lacklustre attempt to hide one's emotions, really.

Rossiya. She'd have to check somewhere about it.

The buzz of her phone after lunch alerted Zeppelin to her appointment with "Hood". Same place, same time. About an hour later. Inconvenient timing, really. Too long to run what few errands there were, too short to go back to the dorm. Bismarck suggested a walk, likely an agreeable option. So the two set off between the snow-covered lawns of the commons.

Bismarck had opted to take a long loop around the academy and research bureau, a thankfully uncrowded route. The two walked silently, hands in pockets. It was quite a while before Bismarck finally spoke. "You can find your way back fine, ja?"

A nod.

"There's a meeting I need to attend, I'll be home at 4:30."

Home. The dorm wasn't really home, was it? It was another place to rest, a place to be until the inevitable fight. There was no "home", except perhaps the bottom of the ocean. Surely Bismarck wasn't so naïve.

"I'll be leaving."

Zeppelin didn't feel the battleship leave her side, nor did she see the slight concern in her eyes as she turned away.

Hood had arrived twenty-two minutes early, for some inexplicable reason. There was always value in punctuality, but, as in all matters, excess resulted in degradation, in one way or another. So it came as great surprise when someone knocked exactly fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Zeppelin merely stood there when she opened the door, blinking, face a mixture of confusion and disdain.

"Please, come in, make yourself comfortable."

The battlecruiser had brewed a pot of darjeeling upon her arrival, the faint aroma wafting about the room.

"Tea?"

"... Fine."

Hood reached over to Zeppelin's cup, pouring her an amount of the drink. Zeppelin took the cup, staring into its very bottom with piercing red eyes, before setting the cup down.

It all seemed rather like a repeat of the day before, really. Deja vu. Zeppelin judging her with the same cold glare, sitting in the same way, her tugging the same area on her dress, failing to find the same words.

"If we are to simply sit idly, wasting our time, I should take my leave."

Zeppelin motioned to leave, getting up and pulling the collar of her coat up.

"... How was your day?"

The carrier turned around, face hesitant.

"Don't concern yourself with pointless questions."

"No, really. I'd rather like to know."

"..."

"Doesn't concern you."

With that, she left, cape blowing a faint gust of wind as she closed the door.

Hood frowned a little, picking up the teapot. *Bugger. Still full.* Wasting good tea didn't appeal to her one bit.

Have I... been too critical?

Zeppelin didn't understand what made her despise interacting with Hood so much. If memory served right, she was highly respected, experienced in combat, pleasant to be around.

Pleasant.

Perhaps that was why. Bismarck was direct, stoic, not one to intrude too often nor too little. Pleasant people were often intrusive, asking too much of others for whatever ulterior motivation they had.

Being "pleasant" didn't appeal to her, then.

Somehow, she'd found her way to the dorm, her legs carrying her where her mind wasn't. She dug the keys out of her pouch, still considering her opinion of character.

Nobody occupied the common room, the building quiet save for the faint sound of a buzzer on the second floor. Zeppelin closed the door behind her, perhaps with too much force, and pulled out her phone. It was nearing 4. If the calendar served right, Spee and Eugen were the only two likely to be around. The former's door was shut, a small "Knock before entry" sign hung to the doorknob. The latter was nowhere to be seen, likely off wasting away in one way or another. Satisfied, Zeppelin shut herself into her room.

To Hood's dismay, the commander had opted to fall asleep on the couch, her jacket loosely blanketed over her. At least she'd bothered to eat a little, microwaveable meal half-consumed on the ground next to her. Thankfully, it was the type that Belfast and Akashi had put together, to (in the words of the former) "prevent the complete nutritional malfunction of the more occupied members of our base", with a poignant look at Enterprise and the commander for emphasis.

Putting the lid back on the food, she mentally debated whether to bring Wei back to her room. It wasn't a long trip, only three floors down and then through the general-housing interconnect, but undoubtedly Wei'd wake up, stumble back up the stairs, and keep working. She opened a cabinet, finding a rolled-up grey blanket, and draped it over the sleeping commander, hanging the jacket up. Doing a once-over of the room, and slinging her bag over her shoulder, Hood gently closed the door behind her.

"Tirpitz, I'm very busy tonight."

"Is that so, Eugen? Your calendar says you're completely free."

"Well, there was something new that came up today..."

"You're going."

"..."

Roon and Hipper were returning at 6:00, and Tirpitz had just finished selecting Eugen, Zeppelin, and Bismarck to receive them. A bit overkill, really, but Zeppelin wasn't complaining. Something better to do than peeling vegetables, or sitting on her bed. Eugen, however, hadn't gotten over the need to interact with her sister in a "pleasant and cordial fashion".

That word again. Did it mean something different, coming out of Tirpitz's mouth?

"Tirpiiitz, I'm tired and went to the gym..."

"Go shower, now. Not like you don't have one."

The aforementioned battleship sat focused on her work, a slight edge creeping into her tone.

Eugen sighed dramatically, shrugging, and loafed up the stairs. Moments later, a shower turned on.

The carrier handed the newly peeled bin of vegetables to Spee, who took it with a nod.

"Thank you. There shouldn't be anything to do for a while."

Spee was stewing beef, wooden spoon in hand. She'd come out an hour prior to start work on dinner, Z23 joining her after returning from the academy. The destroyer had long since finished putting the rolls and potatoes in the oven, and was now at the table with Tirpitz, grading papers.

That left Zeppelin and Bismarck, who were both relegated to awkwardly standing about the dining room, looking for something to do. Soon enough, Bismarck went upstairs, presumably to retrieve one or another piece of work. The carrier found it questionably useful to keep standing, and took a seat by Tirpitz and Z23.

"Bored?" Tirpitz asked, still not looking up from her computer.

"... Perhaps."

"You could always use the computer, you know."

"..." Truth be told, it had never crossed her mind how to use the computer. The cell phone was simple enough, a few button presses and taps were intuitive to her. But she hadn't turned the computer on at all, much less bothered to use it.

"Hehe. I'll get Roon to find you something to do."

"There's no need, really."

"The base operates at 50% for the holidays, you'll have nothing else to do." Bismarck, having retrieved her laptop, had returned.

"I don't need your concern."

Tirpitz smirked at her screen. "Alright, don't come complaining when Christmas rolls around and you're left in your dorm, understood?"

Spee, satisfied with the stew, set the cast-iron lid down with a clang, and came to join the group around the table.

"If you need assistance with the computer, Zeppelin, just come and ask me."

The heavy cruiser seemed to almost read her mind, and the minds of others, really. Quite... admirable? Perhaps this was what Tirpitz meant by "pleasant". Someone who understood, but kept quiet about it.

Bismarck opened her laptop, rubbing her eyes and frowning. "Eugen needs to be disciplined."

"She's certainly gotten more lazy over the past months," Tirpitz chimed in.

"Acting quite strangely as of late as well. Hmm."

As if on cue, Eugen dawdled back down the stairs, still straightening out her uniform. "Do I really have to go?"

"Yes. We're leaving right now."

"Bismarck, it's only 5:45..."

And so, dragging the heavy cruiser along, Bismarck motioned for Zeppelin to follow.

If it weren't for Eugen's constant bickering, they'd have arrived at least five minutes earlier. Instead, the three found their way to the rigging hall just as Hipper and Roon pulled into a dock. Bismarck waved at them, elbowing Eugen to stay still. The taller of the two waved back, smiling. After a brief check-in at the commission station and (presumably) packing their equipment away, the two surfaced from the hall below.

"Welcome back."

"Thank you Bismarck~." The taller one, smiling broadly, extended her arms out, seeming to ask for a hug. Bismarck accepted, groaning a little as arms tightened around her. Eugen backed off a little, only to be scooped up moments later, eliciting a slight wheeze from the heavy cruiser.

"Ah, a new face~. It must be quite awkward to be introduced to me here, yes? I'm Roon, pleased to meet you~"

Zeppelin nodded, pensively extending a hand. "Graf Zeppelin, first carrier of the Ironblood."

Unfortunately, "Roon" merely pushed her hand aside and wrapped her arms around her. Tightly. Zeppelin felt most of the air leave her lungs, though she did seem to take it better than the other two. Perhaps that was Eugen's cause for concern.

"Uh, can you create a plane right now or something? I'd kinda like to see one."

A shorter blonde in twintails, presumably Hipper, stood behind Roon, hands at her hips.

Zeppelin blinked a little. She hadn't yet practiced manifesting much of anything, much less a plane. Fortunately, Bismarck stepped in for her. "She was just constructed yesterday, some practice will be required."

Hipper's eyes softened a little. "Ah. Hipper-class's lead ship, Admiral Hipper. Looks like you've been introduced to my idiot sister already."

"Thought we'd lost you there. There's the archetype again, keep it up."

"... Case in point."

"My, you've mellowed out my dear sister. Anything eventful happen on the trip?"

Roon giggled - a light, airy laugh, and began to count off her fingers. "She nearly ran into an iceberg, almost fired upon a coastal defence installation..."

"Oh come on. I'm tired and hungry, can we go back?" Hipper's voice grew more belligerent, taking on a frustrated tone.

"There's the Hipper I know back. Looks like she isn't broken after all."

"Hah? Did I ask for your opinion?"

Bismarck, sighing, motioned for them to follow - Eugen and Hipper bickering with each other behind Bismarck and Zeppelin, Roon following, giggles trailing off.

So this was her "family", if she could call it that. A group of the incompetent and the capable, the harsh and the soft. Bound by iron and blood. A romantic's way of putting it, really. Too much so. Zeppelin pushed the thought aside as a delusion, and hurried a little to catch up with Bismarck.

It was Rodney's turn to cook that night, accompanied by a less-than-happy Nelson who caused more trouble than help. Fortunately, the younger managed to whip up a delightful pork stir-fry, receiving praise from even King George V, who was just dishing up her thirds.

"Georgie, don't eat so much..." Wales called from her seat, peeling a bunch of grapes.

"Oh? I do believe I'll be fine, after all. It's not often that I'm able to taste such exquisite cuisine. Say, Rodney, might I ask for your recipe?"

Rodney blushed mildly, much to the chagrin of her sister, who had set off the fire alarm accidentally during the preparations. "Thank you kindly~ I'll write it down for you later."

Hood spoke up. "It was certainly quite excellent. I think I'll retire to my room, excuse me."

She was tired, after a busy week. Fortunately, the weekend was coming up, which meant going into town for shopping, a pleasant respite from the dullness of life on base. She passed Sheffield mechanically eating in the stairwell, the cruiser only barely acknowledging her passage. Finally, she arrived on the top floor, Formidable's door on the opposing side of the hallway open just a crack, faint music emanating from within.

Hood shut herself into her room, leaving the lights off. The sun still shined dimly on the horizon, letting out last gasp of orange light before slipping below the waves. She fell back on her bed with a sigh. It had taken her months to get used to people, but even now she still found them tiring. Sometimes, it was comfortable to be alone. After laying back for a few minutes, she found her copy of *The Old Man And the Sea*, flipped on the nightstand lamp, and started to read. It briefly reminded her of the early days, a gentle twinge of nostalgia as she turned the page. She had changed. Thankfully, she thought to herself. Thankfully.

"After a while, Hipper thought it was a bit quiet in the northern sector, and thought it good to go check on i-"

"STOP IT ROON!"

Tirpitz sighed into her glass of orange juice. "Don't raise your voice at the table, Hipper."

The aforementioned heavy cruiser muttered a stream of curses under her breath and turned back to her stew.

"Take any good pictures, Roon?" Z23 asked midst forkfuls of green beans.

"Ah, if only you were there~ This thing can only capture so much, the glaciers were beautiful." The heavy cruiser passed her phone across the table, Z23 nodding as she flipped through the photos.

Zeppelin sat near the head of the table, across from Tirpitz. Spee's cooking was quite good, frankly, the beef well-seasoned and soft, although a bit salty.

Roon, for what it was worth, had revealed herself to be tolerable, making clean conversation with whoever initiated, involving others as necessary. Her laugh did come across as somewhat annoying and vain, but she was at least tolerable to be around for an extended period of time.

Hipper, however, had revealed the opposite, constantly bickering with her sister and Roon about most everything, in her typical petulant voice. She also shared her sister's tendency to squander time, talking far more than eating.

Thankfully, as the meal drew to an end, Hipper's complaints reduced, likely a result of being well-fed and well-entertained. Spee and Roon hurried off into the kitchen, carrying the dishes with them. Tirpitz yawned a little, leaning back in her chair.

"What a nice Friday night."

"... I guess. If only my idiot sister wasn't here."

Zeppelin felt a bit estranged, frankly. The others continued to make conversation, carefree, whereas she merely sat in her seat and stared through the window behind Tirpitz. Soon, Z23 had brought out a board game and they'd begun to play, even Tirpitz and Bismarck joining in after some coaxing. She excused herself, closing herself into her room once again. Downstairs, a roar of laughter erupted as a moderately angry Roon said something about weighted dice.

Zeppelin was disturbed by a gentle knock. She'd brushed her teeth, showered, and had started to read one of the training manuals.

"Yes?"

"It's me... I'd like to talk."

Roon.

"Door's unlocked."

Roon entered, uniform discarded in favour of a white graphic t-shirt and black jeans. Likely a violation of dress code.

"You seemed awfully lonely during dinner, are you alright?"

"I have had multiple people ask me such a question, all of whom have proven to be poor judges of character."

Roon merely laughed, a faint edge creeping into her voice. "Hehe, mood. What's wrong?"

"Hm? And why should I divulge myself to you?"

"Because I may understand more than you think. And others, really, as well."

"... Perhaps I'll consider it."

"Good for you. Night~"

While turning off the lights, she noticed the book Eugen had given her, still the only item on the bookshelf. She considered reading it, but then a sudden wave of exhaustion drove her to her bed.

The January air was cool, quiet, crisp. In the streets of Kiel, workmen slowly made their way through the streets, milkmaids did their morning runs. Many streamed into Deutsche Werke, the silence replaced by the whirr of machines, the bellowing of steam. These same men had birthed Gneisenau a mere month before, forged her from steel and sweat. This time, they had a larger undertaking, the first of its kind. One that would go down in history, a symbol of German might. And so, with cold, unyielding determination, they toiled on.

Chapter Text

(The main chapter so far. Hopefully you're able to read Markdown.)
TW: Suicidal thoughts. It's gone after the second section, although there is mention of the effects of extreme demotivation elsewhere.

~~

*Grey water, snow. The gathering cold. A boom in the distance...*

She woke with a start, cursing under her breath. Black bedwear clammy against her. She rolled over with a groan, squinting at the cool white digits of the clock. *03:06*. The full moon shone through the open window.

A door clicked open and closed. Eugen. Zeppelin tried and failed to care about her comrade's increasingly frequent night-time trips. Rolling over again, she began to study the drywall of the ceiling. It was the second memory that night, one of many similar. Three hours later, she'd snap out again. 6 was acceptable, at least. Trying in vain to untangle her bedsheets, Zeppelin counted dots on the ceiling until her eyelids reluctantly drew shut.

~~

*She'd been neglected. Almost complete. Her hull lay deserted, guns stripped off here and there, interior filled with hardwood. Moved from port to port as the military machine stalled. Finally, there was progress. The workmen were different- war-torn, weary. Their hats were no longer perched confidently on their heads, the pride in their labours worn away.*

~~

The kitchen was vacated. Zeppelin sat cross-legged at the island, "enjoying" an espresso. She took hers dark, sugar-free. A touch of cream for Saturday, as a "reward". Everyone else seemed to permit themselves in some way during weekends, but to her, it didn't matter - Saturday was the same as any other day. A trivial action for better people.

She was weak, in multiple ways. Bad at saying "no", far too lazy to do anything if she did. Most of her "existing" spare time was spent sprawled out on her bed, silently mocking herself until she fell asleep, then mocking herself again when the inevitable dream ended. Eugen's belligerence against commands was notable. She'd say no, hold her ground, and eventually win out. But Zeppelin was weak, and that was that.

Meeting with Hood was worrying, if she could be bothered to worry. Zeppelin would leave, but would never say "no". It was a mockery, but a mockery she'd gotten used to. The battlecruiser's persistence was admirable, perhaps a product of... stupidity? Naivety? Blind faith? Or were they all the same?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the neat footfall of Tirpitz, dressed for a day out in town. Slightly startled by Zeppelin's presence, the battleship poured herself a cup of milk and procured a croissant. The two were silent- Zeppelin taking long draws out of her cup, Tirpitz mechanically eating bits of bread- save for the occasional flurry of pings on the battleship's phone, usually earning a chuckle or at the very least a smirk.

"You'll eat something proper, yes?" Tirpitz finally spoke up, dusting her fingers of crumbs.

"As you wish."

"I'll be out in town with a friend. Take care of yourself."

With a slight nod, Zeppelin turned back to her nearly-drained cup. The front door clicked shut behind Tirpitz.

~~

TODO: Rework section.

"Comrade Commander."

"Hm?"

Wei pulled open the door, recognising Rossiya's standard flat tone.

"Need something?"

"Yes, on exercise organisation. Why has Northern Parliament fleet been moved over two spots?"

Wei pursed her lips. "... An accommodation."

Expression visibly lightening, the battleship snapped a clean salute. With a "that is all," she paced quickly out of the command dorms, the scent of wintergreen trailing behind her.

~~

Zeppelin was back in her bed, staring up at the ceiling fan. She didn't feel terribly hungry, but had forced down half a bowl of oatmeal Spee offered, remembering Tirpitz's request. Was it a request? A command? Trying to focus, her mind remained in a haze, replaying a series of random

~~

(A Memory)

"Royal Navy's glory?" A swatch of red and gold sneered at her. "How glorious to go down without the slightest in resistance!"

A leering voice of white joined in. "Now, now, don't be too harsh. After all, how was she supposed to know to keep the magazine safe?" Red and gold laughed, a guttural, manic laugh. It was warm yet uncomfortably cold - a chill haunting her to the bone. Voices peered out of the darkness, twisted and echoing.

"Rather messy result, especially for an inevitability..."

Soon the voices pressed closer, louder and more dramatic.

Even the dark faded away.

~~

(random trash for word padding, most of it's parts of chapters 2/3)

~~

"Did my idiot sister act up during my absence? She better not have..."

"Well, for starters, on Wednesday she almost recycled my magazines..." Tirpitz began to count off.

"That was an unfortunate misunderstanding, but go ahead."

"Then, on Thursday, she went out with someone and came back late, then fell asleep without changing..."

"Huh? Who's she seeing?"

"I think that's a question for her..."

Eugen sighed, poking at her stew. "Tirpitz, do I have to?"

"It would be nice if you shared."

"Then perhaps I can share what really happened that day you went missing at Atlantic South."

"... Nevermind."

"It's that idiot battleship, right? Wales or whatever."

"My, my sister's brain cavity has filled a little, hasn't it?"

Spee, who had finished, groaned. "Please stop it. You're reminding me of Deutschland."

"How's she doing?" Roon

Surely she was doing well for herself, training hard every day, volunteering for the hardest commissions, fighting for *herself* and *herself* only. Surely it wasn't a sign when Bismarck came knocking one night, worriedly telling her to "rest a little perhaps", and surely it wasn't unusual that she'd started skipping one meal a day to work in a little extra practice, a little extra reading.

Surely it was good that her room was still sparse, maintained as well as before, barely used in between training for reading manuals. And surely it was fine that even people she'd been cordial with at best - Graf Spee, Roon, Bismarck, Tirpitz had started to drift away, the words between them growing fewer and fewer.

~~

It was a cloudy Tuesday at the tail end of spring when it all came crashing down. Zeppelin had elected to join the Eagle Union's carrier training exercise, partnered with Essex and Casablanca against Enterprise's massed carrier squad. At the release of her first wave of Ju-87Cs, she started to feel queasy. By the second, it was becoming difficult to keep her eyes open. And then, she was awake in her hospital bed,

~~

"Wonder "I'm taking Spee and some friends into town, would you like to go with us?"

Roon had disturbed her morning coffee again, the third time that week. On a Saturday morning, no less.

"... No. I'm busy."

"Oh? Have a good day~"

With a wave, Roon closed the door behind her, Spee following close behind.

Zeppelin leaned back a little in her chair, continuing to take sips of her espresso. She was finally alone. The others were presumably asleep.

Every day was roughly the same for her,

Her skills had fortunately improved, Wei apparently stating that she was "one of the fastest to improve she'd seen". Evidently, the Commander hadn't seen much in her brief little career, had she?

But Zeppelin had to admit, it was satisfying to see herself strengthen each day, the results obvious to herself - more planes launched, more aircraft shot down. There was some pleasure in that, even if it felt like just going through the motions of life.

What sapped her weeks of pleasure, however, were her ... inconvenient meetings with Hood. She'd wisened up a little, keeping enough tea and talk to occupy Zeppelin for a few more minutes, although the result was ultimately pointless. If anything, the battlecruiser's persistence was admirable.

Life overall continued to feel like a drifting monotone note, save for occasional higher points . Some nights, Zeppelin would listen to the crickets chirping through her opened window, and wonder why she bothered. Others, it was a pain to drag herself out of bed and through the standard slew of morning routines, everything passing by silently.

Perhaps that was what life was. She'd contemplated what it felt like to die. Never seriously, but she'd thought about it - getting shot by a Purifier, torpedoed, divebombed. Yet it had never tempted her to bother.

The dreams had gotten worse, too, and more frequent. It was always the same fragments. A cold, grey sky; the bleak shapes of ships; cannonfire; and the shouts of men. Over and over. She'd wake up, roll over, and the dream would play again.

But it was life. And that was fine. Someday, it'd all be gone anyway.

Downing the rest of her coffee without so much as a wince, Zeppelin donned her cloak and wandered about the base. It didn't really matter what she did today, did it? She could've gone into town with Roon and the others, maybe had a little fun... if there was such thing. On the other hand, exercises would be held with the same weekend group, in the same training area, the hell she ever manages to fight in that damn coat during hot days."

"I do suppose it's a force of habit, as with all of us." Hood had returned to her desk, the cup of tea originally intended for the visitor at a side.

"Hehe. Like the way you make darjeeling for visitors, black tea for familiars, and Earl Grey for yourself?"

"Ah, 'tis but a custom. I do suppose it falls under habit as well, true. Oh, and I'd better not see a concentrated coffee container in the recycling the next time I take it out, force of habit or not."

"... Guilty as charged."

Hood smiled gently and went back to her work. Wei did have to admit, the battlecruiser was nothing if not observant. Perhaps that was why she'd kept her around.

~~

"I'm taking Spee and some friends into town, would you like to go with us?"

Roon had disturbed her morning coffee again, the third time that week. On a Saturday morning, no less.

"... No. I'm busy."

"Oh? Have a good day~"

With a wave, Roon closed the door behind her, Spee following close behind.

Zeppelin leaned back a little in her chair, continuing to take sips of her espresso. She was finally alone. The others were presumably asleep.

Every day was roughly the same for her,

Her skills had fortunately improved, Wei apparently stating that she was "one of the fastest to improve she'd seen". Evidently, the Commander hadn't seen much in her brief little career, had she?

But Zeppelin had to admit, it was satisfying to see herself strengthen each day, the results obvious to herself - more planes launched, more aircraft shot down. There was some pleasure in that, even if it felt like just going through the motions of life.

What sapped her weeks of pleasure, however, were her ... inconvenient meetings with Hood. She'd wisened up a little, keeping enough tea and talk to occupy Zeppelin for a few more minutes, although the result was ultimately pointless. If anything, the battlecruiser's persistence was admirable.

Life overall continued to feel like a drifting monotone note, save for occasional higher points . Some nights, Zeppelin would listen to the crickets chirping through her opened window, and wonder why she bothered. Others, it was a pain to drag herself out of bed and through the standard slew of morning routines, everything passing by silently.

Perhaps that was what life was. She'd contemplated what it felt like to die. Never seriously, but she'd thought about it - getting shot by a Purifier, torpedoed, divebombed. Yet it had never tempted her to bother.

The dreams had gotten worse, too, and more frequent. It was always the same fragments. A cold, grey sky; the bleak shapes of ships; cannonfire; and the shouts of men. Over and over. She'd wake up, roll over, and the dream would play again.

But it was life. And that was fine. Someday, it'd all be gone anyway.

Downing the rest of her coffee without so much as a wince, Zeppelin donned her cloak and wandered about the base. It didn't really matter what she did today, did it? She could've gone into town with Roon and the others, maybe had a little fun... if there was such thing. On the other hand, exercises would be held with the same weekend group, in the same training area,