--- Chapter 9: Summer Siege Warfare ---
The black fleet sailed in a diamond formation, each and every one of their ships going at sixty knots in average. The symbols on their vessels glowed in blood-red color, their engines quiet even as they split the waves, and their radars as well as turrets periodically rotating in search of enemies. With their level of technology in mind, not even the Piece-class Sirens were a slouch even when caught off-guard.
The Siren were powerful and numerous, their army a legion of heartless monsters. Be that as it may, they rarely utilized tactics. To tell the truth, it was more accurate to claim that they had no need for strategies when overwhelming mankind with numbers alone worked just fine. For humanity who had just modernized their steam engines to usher a new phase of industrial revolution, all that they had was simply no match against the Siren. Their tyranny ushered in a second Dark Age.
However, even when defeated, broken, lost and thrown into the kiln of hell, the remnants of mankind fought not just with their ruined fists and feet. They recorded the Siren's activity, gathered as much data as they could, and passed down legacies that would one day become the footholds of the Azur Lane. Innumerable documents were written and spread across the continents. Then, one day in the near future, scholars would eventually discover a few facts in regards to the Siren's attack patterns.
First seen in First Contact War—the Siren would accumulate a naval force multiple times bigger and stronger than what the world could have offered in one spot. With aggressive brutality they broke through defense lines, crushed the armed forces, and then unleashed destruction at unprecedented scales. Some countries were razed down in seven days and nights, some could barely stand after the vicious onslaught. Even those who had valiantly resisted suffered casualties that would cripple them for indeterminately.
Attack. Destroy. Kill. Leave none standing. Spare nobody.
Such was the nature of the so-called "Invasion".
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It had been a while since she last used her rigging. Ever since she began working at the Fifth Carrier Division, she had not seen live combat on her own. The division was, after all, lacking any proper organization aside from her seniors and the Commander. It was hard to admit, but she was starting to get used to being an escort more than a vanguard, so the weapon in her hand felt a bit unfamiliar now. Trailing behind her sister, Ayanami shifted her grips over the handle of her anti-ship greatsword.
Can we do it…? Ayanami quickened her pace as she followed Fubuki's sign through her moving
gohei. It was their cue. There was no more room to hesitate.
Then…!
"Here we go, Ayanami!" Fubuki declared, skidding to a halt as her turrets and torpedo launchers took aim. "Show them who's the boss here!!"
"Under...stood!" Ayanami lowered her center of gravity and revved up her boilers.
Boom! Boom!! Salvos flew and struck the waters in front of the Siren fleet. Not even a minute after and the hulls of three Piece-class ships heavily shook, chunks of steel and machinery exploding from their sides. With Fubuki's torpedoes hitting them squarely, the enemy escorts were neutralized. Ayanami pierced through curtains of water and stabbed her sword into the hull of a Pawn. The girl heaved, and she twisted the blade in before slashing outward. With a great groaning sound, a gaping maw revealed the innards of the Siren ship. Ayanami kicked back with her rigging belts loading bullets into the gun chambers—
"Take this…!"
A flash of white, yellow, red, orange and then black filled her sight. Ayanami landed on the surface of the ocean with a stagger before she turned her back to the sinking Piece. Her red eyes swept around, identifying five, seven, and then nine ships a slight distance away. From her position, she could make out their overall shapes and her database quickly figured out their official signatures.
Five Knights, two Bishops, one Rook, one King. Ayanami immediately sailed forward, exiting the smokescreens as hails of bullets filled the sky above her. Black aircraft roared past with a squadron of Zeros engaging a deadly pursuit through the bullet storm. The distraction would not last long.
I have to find the enemy aircraft carriers before they launch more aircraft than everyone can handle…!
Ayanami skated through the chaotic battlefield. She continued to stream codes indicating the positions and numbers of the enemy vessels but she couldn't find the thing she was looking for. Her heartbeat drummed in her ribs while her nose no longer able to sense anything other than smokes, embers, and gunpowder. Through the roaring winds and the rain of shells, a violent cacophony belonging to a war zone sang to its heart's content.
It all brought back memories. Of the Old World. Of the Final War. Of the time where she spent killing and sinking as many ships as possible as a true machine of war—
"Ayanami! Watch out!!"
The red-eyed demon swerved to the side from the warning. In doing so, a plasma bullet flew and crashed by her side, covering her whole vision with a wall of seawater. Salty flavor filled her mouth and stung her eyes, but this was nothing for a fully-equipped Kansen. Still, she could not let herself to stand still so she retreated as she detected the signature of her sister. Fubuki swung her
gohei in an upward arc the moment she reached Ayanami, a line of light surrounded with electric sparks repelling another plasma shell with a deafening
crack.
"Khg...!!" Fubuki's rigging lined up in front and above the two, protecting the two destroyers from the enemies' turrets. Ayanami noticed the smokescreens and water pillars thinning out, the telltale sign that they were rapidly losing their initiative. "Why you little pieces of junk! So annoying…!"
Ayanami blinked. Fubuki always liked to smile and take everything at her own pace, but she was still responsible enough to fulfill her duties while being a good influence to the Kansen younger than her. She rarely blamed someone or saying rough words just for the express purpose of spitting at them…
It's been a long time since—
"Alright, looks like this is Onee-
san's time, then!"
Interrupting her thoughts, a black-haired woman dashed past her with rigging that shifted into formation like an armored coat. Her turrets fanned out and salvos far stronger than what a destroyer could throw fired out, whizzing through the air in an arcing trajectory. The resulting shockwaves whipped at the sea behind her, her senior's long black hair dancing in the winds alongside her white skirts. Atago smiled as her aims struck her intended targets, the HE shells unleashing explosions that further burned the decks of the Piece-class ships.
Some of them had missed their targets, but a heavy cruiser's guns allowed just enough rooms for the Siren to reconsider their deadly calculations. Ayanami quickly regained her bearings together with Fubuki.
"Atago-senpai…" Ayanami called out.
"Hn. That was a splendid job done," Atago responded, giving a smile over her shoulder to the two Fubuki-class Destroyers. "However, please do not be hasty. I won't be able to face Takao if I were to let our cute juniors get hurt when I could help it."
"Ah… un, I'm sorry…"
The heavy cruiser's smile turned a little helpless. "While it is good of you to reflect on your actions, perhaps that apology should be redirected to the right person."
Eh…? It took a few beats for Ayanami to process the meaning behind Atago's words. Then she looked to the side and met Fubuki in the eye.
Oh, that's right… how could I be so stupid?
"Oh, dear." Suddenly, Atago's shadow fell upon her and Ayanami looked at her back. "Brace yourselves!"
Faster than sound. Cutting through Ayanami's thoughts was a burst of white that became a blinding wall right before her. The only reason her eyes did not see spots was because she and Fubuki were behind Atago, casting a blind spot to the arrival of searing hot white pulse that was divided in two by Atago's rigging. The sea around the three boiled and evaporated. Ozone filled the air as the light subsided. Ayanami held her breath.
From the other side of the sea a humanoid figure with three-pronged gun barrel pointed at the three Kansen. Standing atop the water surface, the humanoid figure held up a strange gun that let loose heat hazes and smokes. A canister then flew out of the gun's compartment as a pair of yellow eyes stared at Ayanami. The longer she stared back, the deeper the cold shiver ran down her nerves. It was a familiar and horrible sensation.
A black rigging that resembled creatures from the deep sea. Lifeless yellow eye. And pale gray hair bordering on bone white. There was no doubt about it; all of the characteristics matched.
"Executor-class…!?" Fubuki gasped in shock.
"And it seems like there's not just one of them." Atago grimaced, shifting her damaged right rigging with her left sent forward. Two more Executor-class—identified as Chaser as well as Scavenger—rapidly approached. "My armors can only withstand their shells for a few more times before I have to regulate my pacing. The two of you should fall back."
Fall… back? "But senpai, we—!"
Ayanami stilled. Her acoustics caught a faint sound in this chaotic battle zone. Something that roared, louder than the engines of the Zeros. The burning verniers. The noise of jet engines claimed to be the technology of tomorrow. This could only mean one thing, and Ayanami felt her blood freezing from the alarming number of findings she had just detected.
"They're launching aircraft!!" Ayanami shouted, the silhouette of a ship twice larger than the Piece-class ships encountered so far emerging through the wreckage of its brethren. Right when she was about to raise her anti-air guns, jet-black planes blasted through the smokes and soared to the sky; faster than her turrets could aim at.
First there were three. Then it was ten, sixteen, twenty-two. And then there were thirty-eight.
The majority of them were fighter jets, but something different stood out this time. Ayanami recognized the silhouettes of human figures riding on the wings of the fighters, all of them possessing similar yellow-accented black rigging. Her crimson eyes widened in fear.
No…!
The enemy had regained their momentum.
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"
We're sorry! Enemy's warplanes are heading your way! There are Executor-class riding on the fighters!!"
Shoukaku held her breath. The radio transmission ended with a sharp buzz as jamming went on full-effect as Siren aircrafts blotted the skies. She didn't expect them to have Executor-class in their midst, but it also meant the main body of the Piece-class fleet would become vulnerable. With their current fighting power, it was possible to destroy the enemy fleet and halt the Invasion, but they had to be quick. After all, they couldn't afford to let the enemy go even deeper into the bay.
"Zuikaku, send out all of your planes!" Shoukaku announced her order as she brought her flute close to her lips. "I will follow right after, so shoot down every fighter coming this way!"
"Got'cha, Shoukaku-nee!"
Zuikaku's rigging, a miniaturized flight deck, shifted in position as red shikigami papers scattered to line up at the end of the deck. Each and every one of them popping into tiny warplanes that began to spin their propellers as the engines roared to life. One by one, the fighter aircraft squadron took off from Zuikaku's flight deck. Nodding to herself, Shoukaku followed as her flute resonated with her shikigamis, drawing them out en masse from her sleeves as they transformed midair into another squadron of Zero.
"Go!" Zuikaku could be heard shouting, commanding her flights to double the pace. Her order was effectively transmitted across the squadron and they all flew to the sky, embarking on a deadly hunt with the Siren aircraft. "Shoukaku-nee, I'll go and throw down the Executors!"
"Be careful!" Shoukaku warned in-between the intervals.
Her sister grinned back as she sailed ahead on her own. Anxiety washed over her heart, but Shoukaku knew better that this much of an attack would not sink Zuikaku. That girl was made of tougher stuff, and her spirit would not betray her even at the darkest moment. Shoukaku trusted her to win and make it back safely.
But...
The battle was turning chaotic, the darkened sky blotted with a dancing fighter crafts that chased after each other. As smokes and gunpowder blurred the scenery, every plane shot down became burning wreckage that showered the area around Shoukaku. Some fragmented into smoldering pieces of iron that smashed into the sea, quickly sinking beneath the ocean after creating a burst of water splashes. Others plunged as a whole piece, the collision at their speed squashing their engines and igniting the fuel tanks. Like fireworks, they exploded, and the aircraft carrier did her best to navigate through the flying shrapnel safely.
Sending out another squadron would be too hasty of a move. Shoukaku looked around in search of anything out of the ordinary.
Her anti-aircraft guns still had more than enough. Her sister was effectively a bulwark for the Siren to climb over and she was doing a very excellent job at suppressing the numbers of the enemy aircraft. The bulk of the Piece-class had also been stopped by the vanguard—
"
Shoukaku-nee!"
The white-haired carrier froze up. Instantly her intuition forced her body to divert away from its original direction, a burning plane wreckage instantly smashing into the sea right after she did just that. Not only that, her radar detected further movement but the water pillar made it next to impossible to ascertain where they would attack. That was, unless…!
"Above!" Shoukaku removed a hand from her flute as she thrust the armament upward. Not even before it reached past her elbow a black gun barrel fell atop it.
Bang! "Ghh…!?"
The drizzle ended, but the waves rolled and roared. Shoukaku's hand trembled after receiving the feedback, and she saw a pair of yellow eyes shining down at her. Without thinking twice, she tilted her flute and the gun barrel slide off and away from her. Shoukaku immediately retreated—only for the Executor-class to chase after her.
This is bad, Shoukaku reassessed her own situation. The enemy was pushing tight that she could not use her
onmyou flute to command her planes. It took almost all of her focus to read and parry the following attacks.
At this rate…!
Shoukaku was not as good as Zuikaku in terms of close combat. Her proficiency was in being an aircraft carrier through and through, so she only took the barest minimum when it came to defending herself. Dodging, parrying, and distancing herself from the enemy were perfectly valid tactics when all you had were just anti-air guns and planes that required a specific method to send out first before they could even be half as effective.
In that case…!
Shoukaku shifted her rigging's positioning horizontally in front of her right when the Siren threw out another punch. It was fast, faster than Zuikaku's sword draw. Shoukaku felt the impact through the rigging, but the pause was the exact thing she needed.
Now!
The anti-air turrets rotated. They took aim, pointing at one thing and fired. Behind the rigging, Shoukaku could only feel the rattles of the turrets crossing through the connector of her rigging while the deafening gunfire noise mixed along with a long flash of orange. Taking further precautions, Shoukaku leaped back after her gun barrels approached overheat. The smokes subsided and—
"She's gone!?" Shoukaku immediately turned around, her rigging following closely after her as a black flash dropped from the edge of her vision. "Kyah!"
The blow struck her rigging just barely on time, but Shoukaku was not prepared for the force put in it. All she could do was lose her footing and be sent away; her feet skidded across the ocean surface until the momentum died off. Her body trembled and Shoukaku winced. She pressed a hand on her left shoulder, feeling a burning sensation on her back. It was close to the nape. The Siren must have aimed for her spine and effectively ending the fight with one decisive blow.
Looking at her enemy, Shoukaku felt a little bit of respect at her foe. There were damages all over her body, the black outfit torn and singed while the flesh beneath holding a number of bullet wounds. Yellow fluid bled out from her wounds, and yet the humanoid Siren didn't show any hint of agony in her face.
Those heartless eyes were always unchanged, silently staring and observing their target to the bitter end. Just like actual deep-sea creatures. "I admit you are proving to be quite a troublesome foe…"
In spite of her words, the Siren didn't seem to care for the slightest bit. Shoukaku was about to ready her planes when a figure crossed into her sight from the far right side. The white-haired woman deeply inhaled, only for the short relief vanishing the moment she heard faint sounds of airplane engines.
"No, Zuikaku! Get back and resume your order!"
"Shoukaku-nee!?"
Shoukaku stopped paying attention to their own situation. What mattered the most was—
"This is a distraction! Their aim still hasn't changed…!!"
Just as she warned her sister, another sounds of roaring jet engines passed by. The two Kansen looked up, staring in horror as a new batch of fighter crafts crossed the sky with a few more "passengers".
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"Eh, what!? The enemy broke through the second defense line? No way!!"
Yamashiro lifted her head to stare at the darkened horizon. With the color scheme the Siren gave to their aircraft, it was more than difficult to detect their shapes. Furthermore, her radar had yet to undergo upgrade to the latest model until the end of this month. No matter how she tried to put it, shooting down the enemy's airplanes would be a challenging task.
Wh-what should I do?! That's right, I have to ready my gun ports and—wait, I have to inform the Commander!
Looking down from the roof of her vessel's control tower, Yamashiro inhaled. "Milord, the enemies are coming!! It's too dangerous to stay outside!!"
The figure in white staying idle at her deck had no right to be so discernible and conspicuous, but for some reasons, he was intent on monitoring the battlefield from up and close. While it was true that Yamashiro could handle all the logistics needed to process the self-updating flow of this battle, that didn't mean she ignored the Rear Admiral's presence. In fact, she had been warning him incessantly to stay inside of her vessel as he was just a normal human…
But why is he smiling back and waving at me? Yamashiro stilled, seeing the man in a mask shaking his head in total rejection of her nth attempt to protect him.
W-why!?
"My lord, you promised to mind your own safety!"
"
Well, I suppose I did." The Rear Admiral's voice came over through the private radio channel. Yamashiro began to wonder as why would he not use the local channel linked with the frontline members when he added.
"But if I don't at least make myself useful, then I cannot guarantee the success of this operation."
"What…?"
"
They're coming."
Yamashiro jerked her head back up. Black fighter crafts adorned with crimson symbols soared into range. The battleship hastily took aim and began firing, but as she shot down the enemy aircraft from the closest to the farthest…
"
Even for low-ranked Sirens like Executor-class, they'd undoubtedly think of the best way to break their foe's rhythm," a lecture flew into Yamashiro's head.
"But to disrupt it, the wisest move is to eliminate specific vitals points. For examples, a fortification, communication center, conquered checkpoints, supply chains, a control base, a route leading to an objective, retreat paths, or…"
Yamashiro's heart began to beat unpleasantly. She had a hunch. A tiny, tiny hunch she didn't want to believe coming right up. Unfortunately for her, today was proving to be her unluckiest day in her second life.
"
In naval warfare, that'd be the enemy's flagship. It's even better if there's a commanding officer on it."
"Eh, wait, so this is…"
"
This wasn't part of the plan, of course. It's just a hunch I had a few minutes ago." From the corner of Yamashiro's vision, Aoto walked towards her bow as he drew out his
kaiguntou—a military-issued stainless steel sword that didn't have the same vibe as the swords made for anti-Siren battle—as well as a pistol. Was… was he going to fight with ordinary weapons? As a mere blood and flesh human with only the power to connect with Kansen and nothing more?
"Keep on shooting down their planes. We cannot make Shoukaku's group any more distracted in this precarious time."
"Milord, are you serious!?"
As soon as Yamashiro shrieked that, a burning fighter plane shot plunged past the battleship and exploded as it smashed into the ocean surface. A figure then landed on the starboard of Yamashiro's ship, a wounded Executor-class termed as Scavenger by the Admiralty.
"
Sorry, Yamashiro. I accept any future scolding from you and everyone, but…" Aoto's voice lowered to a degree that Yamashiro could feel a chill running down her back. She could not see his face properly from her vantage point of view, and yet…
"This one's mine for now."
If there was one thing she could remember to when she was still just a warship, the second most frightening thing to her was the fury of a vengeful soldier.
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The moment she recognized he wasn't a kansen, the Scavenger attacked him at a speed that far surpassed his reflex. It took all of his might and experience to avoid death from a punch to the head, and he parried a sharp swing of gun barrel aiming to slice his body in two.
Fast, and also heavy…!
Aoto couldn't help but marvel at the speed and force exerted by the humanoid Siren. He had learned as much as he could about the world's enemy, but he only knew so much about them like everyone else of his age and experiences. The Piece-class were steel behemoths bringing with them frightening firepower and aerial opposition, but the Executor-class was simply unstoppable juggernauts clad in human skin. They resembled Kansen in appearance and basic capabilities, but the similarity ended there and then.
They don't care whether their targets surrendered or begging for their lives. The Executor-class used their weapons, rigging, even their own hands, and feet to squash scattered human lives that had survived the Piece-class' onslaught. For the remaining survivors, what had once appeared to be humans suddenly became a source of nightmares.
And to your kind, human lives must have little values.
Aoto's arms numbed by the second blow. He defended himself well, yet cracks and dents formed on the blade of his sword. Reinforced as it might be, his weapon did not have any of the Cube-infused weapon's special properties. He swung his sword and he missed. He mixed his moves with feints to lead in his foe but the Scavenger never fell for it. This close quarter combat was everything he never hoped for; an extremely one-sided death match akin to a child fighting against a master martial artist.
But even a martial artist possesses graces in their steps.
Aoto stopped feeling anything over his hand that was holding the sword. His hand grip was locked in gripping the bent handle of his sword, and the enemy swung the barrel of her gun upward. It'd smash his chin if left alone and shatter his skull, so Aoto twisted his arm to use the damaged blade as his line of defense.
Crack! The blade's edge broke off, and the sword shattered into a hundred metal pieces. Aoto was knocked back. With what was left of his grip strength, Aoto raised his hand gun and aimed for a point-blank shoot. Two bullets left the chamber one missing and the other striking true to its target. The Siren slightly bent her body as smokes spewed from her abdomen—but the bullet only left a scratch. Aoto's eyes widened in shock, a mistake he had to paid dearly as a roundhouse kick sent his body flying across the deck.
His vision went white, dark, and then spinning uncontrollably as red dots repainted the world seen through his eyes. At the edges of his consciousness, a thought crossed Aoto's mind.
Not even five minutes… huh—
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"My lord!!"
Yamashiro dropped drown from the control tower, but that wasn't enough. She landed on the outer walls only to run downwards as she accelerated through kicking at the platforms jutting out from the tower from top to bottom. Before the Scavenger delivered the final blow, the girl came in range and drove a body blow into her side, sending the Siren to the edge of the battleship's bow but not away and out of the deck. Looking to the side, the battleship saw a puddle of red seeping out from beneath the Rear Admiral's body, but his shoulders were still rising and falling.
He was alive. He still could be saved—but there was no way he could be tended to if she had yet to beat up their enemy. She had to fight up and close without her rigging this time.
"I… I have to do it!" With a step forward, Yamashiro lowered her lower body as she raised her arms in a guard stance. "I'm sorry milord, but I can't let you die!!"
The sounds of jet engines persisted in the background. Yamashiro gritted her teeth, her processing ability split into multiple tasks. The radar to search for enemy aircraft and possible reinforcement, the anti-air turrets to shoot down the torpedo and dive bombers, the main cannons to support the frontline—and also herself.
I can't do this. The Siren got back up to her feet. Even though her left leg twisted and her fingers bent in weird angles, the Executor-class stared long at Yamashiro with the same unfeeling gaze that she had been displaying up until this moment. The yellow eyes at one point cursored to reflect the figure of the Rear Admiral, but Yamashiro stepped in to stand between the two. With that, her yellow gaze moved to the battleship.
I really, really can't do this all by myself, but…!
"I won't let you reach him!!"
Yamashiro dashed forward, crossing half of the deck in seconds and meeting the humanoid Siren head-on. Her fist struck the gun barrel, putting a huge dent that would no doubt disable its firing mechanism, and dug her fingers so deep that she completely neutralized the pulse cannon as well as immobilizing one of the Siren's arms. When she saw the Siren swinging her other, wounded arm, Yamashiro stopped it by the wrist and turned the fight into a contest of strength.
I can't…! Yamashiro growled, slowly being pushed back.
Without the rigging attached to me, I'm just half as powerful!
It was the first time for her to feel frustrated for being a humanoid lifeform. As a Kansen, there were several ways for them to participate in the battle. By equipping their rigging, they could use their full strength which was compressed in their bodies. With superhuman agility, physical prowess, as well as reflex and processing ability, it was the most natural way for a Kansen to fight at the open sea.
Their second method which was summoning and remote-controlling their own ships, however, only released the limiter by half. Accordingly, the research concluded that the ship possessed the same qualities as their Old World counterparts in terms of specs, but all of its mechanisms were automated and only moved at the will of the Kansen's main body. In a way, it was a very convenient form if one wished for a show of force, but against the Siren…
If only… if only I was as strong as Nee-sama...
Yamashiro felt her hand creaking. She winced and cried, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as blood trickled down from her cracking knuckles. The Siren pushed her back to the point that they were only a dozen meters away from the Rear Admiral.
No, I have to hold out…! Yamashiro scolded herself, hissing through the pain. It was fine, this was nothing to complain about. Her Commander was not like her. He was just a human and yet he tried to challenge the new laws of nature.
If I… if I run away here, then I can never pride myself as Fuso Nee-sama's sister…!
Another roaring sound blew through the surrounding airspace. Yamashiro, however, noticed that it was a lot louder than usual. The silhouette of an aircraft passed over the deck and a dull sound crashed behind her. Yamashiro felt a shiver.
It… can't… be…
Glancing over her shoulder, there she saw another Executor-class a short distance away from the Rear Admiral. The humanoid Siren bore a black rigging tinted with yellow stripes, a cruiser gun in her right hand, and a pulse chain gun in her left hand. It was a Light Cruiser-type Executor, code name Chaser. The Siren trained her cruiser gun—
"Remain calm, Yamashiro!"
A series of fireworks exploded in the sky above Yamashiro's vessel. Shrapnel rained down alongside chunks of steel that originally constituted Siren aircraft, and with the powerful winds smokes descended upon the deck. Amidst the haze and embers, a silver line flashed by Yamashiro's eyes. The battleship blinked. The force trying to push against her suddenly relented, and the moment she looked ahead, her opponent fell to the side with yellow blood spraying from her right shoulder down to her side.
When she looked back, a figure dressed in white stood over the corpse of the Chaser who was only a step away from eliminating the Rear Admiral. Takao's Cube-infused sword dripped yellow blood of the Siren which she flicked off to the side. As the heavy cruiser sheathed back her sword, the clinking sound snapped Yamashiro out of her fugue and she rushed to aid the Rear Admiral.
"My lord, are you okay!?"
"Ugh… aah, please don't shout…"
Yamashiro gasped in surprise. Her face was soon dyed with relief and she carefully looked over the Rear Admiral's condition. His hands were bleeding, his finger nails split and metallic pieces embedded on his forearms. Red seeped out from his side, a clear sign that the blow the Scavenger delivered was a serious one. He was still conscious, fortunately, but he was rapidly losing blood.
"P-please wait, I will bring first aid kit from the medical ward! Takao-san, please look over my lord!"
"That has been my intention. But please be quick, Yamashiro-dono."
Profusely thanking her peer, Yamashiro immediately darted to the nearest entry leading into her vessel's hull.
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"I cannot say I accept this type of strategy." The heavy cruiser knelt down next to Aoto, taking off his coat to make stripes of clothes out of it. "Us Kansen are made of entirely different matters unlike humans. We are people, but we are also not. Our paradoxical nature is the reason why we could stand up against the threats posed by Siren, Commander."
Aoto smiled through the pain and nodded. His body was screaming in agony, yet he found himself wanting to stay conscious. It was difficult to pay attention to the surrounding world. If he focused on his hearing, the cacophony of battle had yet to end. Alas, he couldn't even pinpoint where exactly to focus beyond that.
Casting his shaking vision, he saw Takao's hands moving to wrap the stripes of cloths around his abdomen. The way she tended to his wounds was nothing short than professional, but considering how this Takao by his side was the incarnation of the Heavy Cruiser warship Takao, perhaps it was more accurate to say that she carried with her the entire legacy of her original history and the skills of the people who had previously fought alongside her.
"This will slightly hurt you, please endure."
Aoto nodded, then winced. Takao finished tying up the wraps and she retreated back. "Thank you, Takao… Also—"
"Apology is unnecessary." Takao stood up, picking up her sword and summoning her rigging once again. "I am simply fulfilling my duty as a soldier. This is what I was meant to do, Commander, so apologizing would only insult my sworn oath."
Ah, how strict… Aoto smiled wryly. Truly, the Kansen all possessed diverse personalities. It was surprising how some lived and acted like children their ages and looks, while others like Takao took themselves to be soldiers bound by duty and honor.
I still have much to learn, it seems, huh...
"Commander," Takao called out. He followed the direction of her gaze and looked up to the darkened sky. "This battle will not last for long. Still, please exercise caution by staying close with Yamashiro-dono. We are Kansen, yes, but we are not all-powerful deities. There's only so much we can do, and only so far our grasps could reach."
"...I'll keep that in mind… is what I'd have liked to say," Aoto paused, taking in a sharp breath as he pushed his consciousness through the burning pain from his side. "But with the way things have become, I will listen to your advice. Thank you again, Takao."
"Yes. Then I shall stand guard until Yamashiro-dono returned."
A strong wind blew. The sea roared as high waves tilted the hull of Yamashiro's warship body.
As he closed his eyes, a series of images flashed by Aoto's mind. In the darkness ghosts from the past reached out to him, a weight he thought he never carried on his shoulder slipping off the same way his past comrade's hand gave out as they took their last breath.
"
I don't… want to die… like this, Lieutenant..."
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By the time the battle ended, the sun had long set and the stars and moon decorated the sky. With the Siren gone, so did the abnormal weather.
The marines and ground forces had been dispatched to inspect the city before civilians could return to their homes. There was no telling whether the Siren hid some farewell gift or not, so the city remained in high alert. Meanwhile at the pier, the defense fleet went on stand-by until further notices from the headquarters. If only a certain person listened to others and just go back along with Shoukaku to the naval base for further medical assistance...
"Is it alright not to talk more with your sister, Ayanami? You haven't seen her for a while, no?"
"It's fine… I think," Ayanami said while shaking her head. "Shikikan's injuries can't be ignored. And I'm the vice-secretary, so this is also a part of my duty..."
Aoto bitterly laughed. Unfortunately for him, it elicited an annoyed grunt so he stopped and looked down at her. Zuikaku ignored his gaze, focusing on disinfecting his wound before pulling out bandages. When she told him to raise his arms, he did as he was told, though it took him quite an effort. That there was yet another point Zuikaku wanted to complain about, but she was exhausted after the intense battle and she didn't want to add more things to stress over for the rest of the week.
"Using yourself as a bait… It's true that humans sighted at the sea are their prey, but do you have a death wish or something?" Zuikaku checked the jagged gash on the man's abdomen before wrapping a fresh layer of bandages. The bleeding had stopped and it didn't look like the internals were severely damaged, but she intended to have Shoukaku write a medical appointment for him later on. As if she was going to let him weasel his way out. "There, done. Don't move too much, or the wounds will open up."
"Ah, sorry for the trouble…" The Rear Admiral gave a polite smile. "Also… good work out there, Zuikaku."
First, he apologized, then he praised her. Zuikaku wasn't so cheap to blush like a schoolgirl just because of the streams of compliments, but the sincerity in his words made it hard to come up with a proper response. In the end, she only made a grunt as she got herself off from his personal space. Looking to the sea, she wondered what was going to happen after this.
Aoto hummed. "I thought of submitting a proposal to change the sea patrol shifts. There's also requesting for ally reinforcement, if possible."
"You're surprisingly thinking ahead."
"The navy will not be able to stay afloat in its current state," Aoto explained. "The decision will certainly cause political backlashes, but the Empire needs a different approach to properly defend herself. The Siren are getting craftier, too, but I'm going to run it on the Board later."
Zuikaku raised an eyebrow. "Why not? If you push for it aggressively, won't the higher-ups listen to your concerns? It's also the truth."
"Well, I'd rather not come across as needy at the start of my political career."
What a reason to have… Zuikaku couldn't help shaking her head. The Rear Admiral was not predictable by any means, and yet he was still the same even after the severe beating he had just taken. He was shrewd, calculative, but also knew when to draw a line.
I guess it really is just his nature, but he'd probably be better off as a politician than a military officer.
"As always, there's no telling what the future will have..." Aoto placed a hand on his mask, a habit which Zuikaku had become aware of lately. "The world is always in a state of flux. What a troubling matter..."
"Eh… I'd say worrying about the future is useless. Don't you think so, Ayanami-chan?"
"Mmm… I don't think so, actually…"
Ugh. Zuikaku was aghast by how she was swimming alone in this three-way exchange. She needed to change the subject, quickly!
"S-speaking of," the carrier paused to draw the two's attention. That was the moment where Zuikaku shot the Rear Admiral a sharp glare. "That aggressive plan from earlier. What was up with that? I can't believe you ignored so many things in your judgment the moment the Siren knocked on our doorstep. What kind of stupidity was that?"
There, she did it. What she accused him of was a valid criticism. She questioned his decision-making skill and she was sure that he could never be able to escape so easily.
Now, show me your true colors—
"I admit that wasn't like me. I'm sorry for betraying your expectations, Zuikaku."
"...eh?"
"To be honest, I let the blood rush to my head. I didn't want to stand idly for a second time. I was too full of myself to think that I could settle my personal grudge so easily."
H-huh…? What was up with this blunt honesty? Or rather, wasn't he being way too forward about his shortcomings. Thankfully nobody else could hear this, but he would have become a laughingstock if he openly admitted his tactical oversight in public!
Just what's wrong with...
"Commander, the way you put it…" Ayanami chimed in, looking visibly concerned. "Did… something happen, a long time ago…?"
Instead of answering right away, the Rear Admiral laughed. Even so, Zuikaku didn't like it for one bit. There was just something offbeat, something a bit different to his laughter. It didn't take long for her to understand that there was a sense of loathing and bitter resentment in his voice, yet to who was it addressed to? Staring to his eyes, the woman slowly but surely came to a realization.
"A long time ago, a Siren invasion visited a coastline city and set it ablaze." Tatsumiya Aoto glanced at the harbor which had slowly regained the artificial starry radiance of modern civilization. "The city everyone had rebuilt in spite of their valiant efforts crumbled into ashes for a second time. The heat was unbearable that day, the dazzling flame consuming all in their terrible glory. People, trees, and buildings alike were reduced into blackened rubble. The KAN-SEN project had yet to yield a result back then, so we could only watch in silence as Sirens destroyed everything precious to us. But…"
Looking down on his open hand, Aoto let out a heavy sigh. An image from the past flashed through Zuikaku's mind. She had seen that expression before. The knowledge that there was nothing else to do but march on to their doom, bitter resignation to a fate of certain defeat, and a whole load of regrets as if wishing that there must have been a better option.
In her final days, the sailors who had fought together with her always wore such an expression.
"I despised myself for being unable to do anything, and I despised the powerless feeling carved in my heart. Even now, that feeling has yet to change." Aoto once again laughed, but this time, he was no longer hiding the hollowness in his voice. "So I thought that this time, something will surely be different. I was arrogant to believe in that."
"Shikikan…"
As silence lapsed, Zuikaku lowered her head and then looked up to the night sky. Finally, she came to understand a little bit more about the Commander. Even after accepting his lot in life, he still wanted to settle his past grudges no matter how hopeless. When he chose to remain instead of retreating to a safe space, it was all so that he could face the reality of his situation and finally put down his hopeless dream to a rest. Even if he needed to be beaten to an inch of his life, he had to make sure that he did not avert his eyes from the truth. He lived while being burdened by past failures and lingering attachments, and in doing so, turned his eyes away from the future for all this time.
What a pitiful way of life…
As a kansen, Zuikaku had never thought of the natural disparity between mankind and Siren, or the true factor that clearly set her away from humankind as a species. Men were not born with fangs and claws specifically designed to challenge the laws of the jungle. Humans also were not born capable of walking on water or firing gun turrets that could easily blow apart a concrete fortification. The foes she fought and intended to challenge existed in the same park she was born in, so she had unknowingly taken many things for granted. It was… a mind-boggling discovery, one that she couldn't fully comprehend just yet.
Looking up to the night sky decorated with shining stars and waxing moon, the answer to her conundrums, however, was nowhere to be seen.
Ugh, I'm too tired for this...
Zuikaku rapped her temple a few times. Overthinking it was no use. A change of mood was needed on this occasion more so than the usual, so Zuikaku lent Aoto a hand.
"...whatever's plaguing you, it's not right if you don't value yourself. Our fleet can't function without people like you, Shikikan."
Aoto blinked at first, but he calmly nodded down. "Yeah, I suppose that's true."
He acquiesced and held her hand using the one that did not suffer terrible damages. Zuikaku noted his hand was big, but also calloused. His other hand must be the same, a testament to the battles and training regiment the man had taken throughout his military career. Carefully pulling him up to his feet, the Commander looked back to Ayanami and gave a nod. Ayanami responded in a similar fashion and the three began their trip to the Naval District. After a short while, though…
"Wait, the Great Kanto Earthquake happened in 1923, so you being around the rebuilding means you're reaching…" Zuikaku's eyes widened to the limits. "Just how old are you!?"
Aoto uproariously laughed without answering at all.
Give me a break already with all these stupid mysteries!!