Fuso (Updated)

So Last time I posted about Fuso was a long time ago, so I’m re-posting the story updated to the most complete version I have. I will be updating the old one if I can find it.
Enjoy!

Fuso, The Gentle Giant

Fuso felt fear, felt desertion, felt her life fading away. The wound she sustained in the skirmish proved to be too much. Slowly she’d been watching her bow dip more and more starboard and felt the seawater flood more and more ever so slowly. But just like snow rolling down a hill, it built up exponentially, and now her deck was awash with the deep. She felt guilty of this, she didn’t tell anyone that there was still water pouring in, she didn’t tell her officers that they were shooting at Mogami, she didn’t talk of how she felt splitting the fleet up might be bad. So now in her guilt she blamed herself for the death of her sister, the damage to Mogami, and now her own death. Tears formed at her eyes as she tried to redeem herself for something and sliced the ties on the boats to let them loose. The only thing she could now hope for is a swift sinking or death and that as many sailors as possible get to safety. She felt all the sea filling her up, every nook and cranny was being filled and it spread faster and faster. She noticed herself beginning to roll over and when she did the movement inside her came to a tremendous uproar as an explosion occurred, then another, and another. One by one magazines were detonating and they ripped her in half, the explosions left her weak and sick, she felt her two parts drifting further and further away as she stopped flooding and was just suspended with her belly up in the air. She felt so very ashamed, left so vulnerable, so exposed, so embarrassed. She felt that Americans were laughing at her, joking and pointing at her belly and how red it was or all the bulges on it, the feeling made her weep. She could tell how she had been floating for about a full day when suddenly she felt vibrations in the water with more sharp stabs at her sides; she was being shot again. She wept more, there was no way she was not seen now. She was sentenced to the bottom even though as she wept she pleaded to save her, she had done nothing wrong, only good, and to please spare her miserable life. Her pleas were never heard.

Fuso felt the unstoppable surge of the Pacific fill her yet again. What moonlight she saw through the waves like stray streaks soon faded to black as she sunk deeper and the tears clouded her weak vision. As she began to plummet she felt weightless. She felt water flowing all around her and it grew faster and faster, stronger and stronger as she hurtled to the bottom of the strait. She felt things like searchlights, cranes, railing, radars, optics, lockers, ladders, and many other things not fastened enough be ripped off her body and strewn about like confetti. Suddenly the weightlessness was gone as she slowed drastically and gently came to rest on the bottom of the Surigao Strait. Her first moments on the bottom were of guilt, feelings of desertion, confusion, and agony. She felt like she deserved this, like no matter what she did it was not enough and she deserved this miserable death, this miserable torture. She was in a state of confusion as to where she sat, the sand on her belly was an alien feeling, one unwelcome in every respect, and at a slant starting higher on her port side and disappearing somewhere beneath her starboard side belly. She couldn’t tell initially if she was on an undersea mountain or sitting at a list. Once she eventually regained a sense of gravity pulling on her still she decreed she was listing. It was pitch black, there was nothing down around her but herself. She felt like she was lying in her own corpse, a mangled and dismembered corpse-strewn around by a beast who needed entertaining. She began going mad, insane, crazy, any adjective to describe what isolation and absurd thoughts stirred in what little thought she had wasn’t enough to do justice. She tried putting a hand in front of her eye to even try getting a glance at something, anything, at all. She couldn’t see it even when she bumped her hand into the eye window panes. She tried so hard to see even her hand, and she couldn’t. In a fit of insanity, she literally clawed out her window eyes-and enjoyed every moment of it. Because of her age, she was one of the first ships in the world to see, and her original eyes were on her conning tower right behind the second main gun turret. She eventually did try to claw out those eyes as well but being of an older method they were not able to be clawed out, instead, she just had massive trenches and pockmarks all up and down that armored face and neck.

When she wasn’t driven to the point of self-mutilation she was crying, weeping, pleading, praying, and regretting everything about herself and to be brought back. She tried her dammed hardest to manage a watch and keep some record of time but this was so rapidly turning into a failure she abandoned it, along with the hope of returning to the surface. She had no concept of time, no sense of direction, purpose, or meaning to anything. Instead, she could only mope in the past and self mutilate herself or feel herself wither away and old everyday functions disappear as she rotted and rusted on the bottom. Forgotten, and lost. Complete insanity hit her like waves the beach, coming and going in time. She never could tell if there was a set time between swings if it took longer or shorter, or what; she had no sense of time. In fits of madness, she would pick and scratch at her armor and decks, peeling away anything loose. All she wanted was to feel something again.

Over the years she forgot what it was to see, forgot what the light looked like, forgot what she looked like, forgot what air was like, the splash of water on her hull, the simple things in life had left her memory. She had no recollection of life before being sunk. Occasionally she would feel disturbances in the water and become suspicious of what’s going on around her and would sometimes think that someone had come for her. At one point she remembered life afloat, more specifically when she was in love. He was so romantic, so handsome and attractive. They made great love when they were together. It made her remember all the things they good together and everywhere they went. Her most enjoyable memory was when the earthquake hit the islands, Fuso as well as Kongo, Nagato, Mogami, and many, many other Japanese warships, and ships in general, took relief supplies to the islands. It was her most proud accomplishment. It was made even better when her lover and she made love all night long, but when the memories came to an end she remembered that was the last time they made love and one of the last times they held each other. He died of illness in her sickbay less than a month later. Thus her little trip of happiness came to an end as guilt and despair took over again. She was crying alone in the pitch black again.

Her body was weak, she felt like she was slipping away recently, she lost all her hope and didn’t want to deal with this anymore. All her emotional pain, all her physical pain, she didn’t want to deal with it anymore, it never ended. She was thinking a lot about letting go, just going away for good. She partly wanted to go away and was partly scared, what was there after it? Would it really end? Would it be a better place? Would she really go to heaven? Is she a sinner? Would her friends be there? That last one really broke her down into a bawling mess. What would her friends think? What would her sister say? She wondered how she was doing, if she was alive anymore. She wondered if Yamato finally opened up to her sweetheart, if Nagato finally broke her dry spell and got someone. She hoped that bastard that broke her heart wasn’t where she was going. She decided to postpone her journey, she didn’t know how long she’d wait, but she knew she’d get to it eventually. Once she mustered the strength to do it and let go.

A short time later she felt a disturbance off to her port side, she grew suspicious as always but unlike every other gut feeling this one didn’t go away. Her conning tower eyes were somewhat locked forward with very little ability to look port or starboard so she couldn’t see the light approaching her. She felt a strange feeling on her side that blanketed a conical area of her side. Slowly the light elevated and reached her decks, at first it was a hazy glow on her decks that strained her eyes but captivated them. She was laser-focused on the illumination of her deck even though it burned her eyes and gave her the equivalent of a headache. The light grew brighter and brighter, she could see the colors she had forgotten, they were green, tan, black, brown, grey, orange, and white but she couldn’t name any of them, it was amazing! She vastly grew more and more excited to the point her hull quivered! Then it appeared, the raw light source. It sat above her second turret she vaguely remembered and peered down at her conning tower. She couldn’t see herself but she was staring at the light directly with a gawking mouth and drooling like a primitive looking at a modern marvel, eyes dilated and locked onto the light. Desensitized to all proper interaction she reached out to the light and grabbed a hold of the submersible and pulled it close.

Thankfully to the crew of the submersible, this was only a drone sub, otherwise, they would probably be screaming and panicking as their sub was drastically whisked from where it sat. While Fuso wasn’t being rough with the little thing she also wasn’t being very gentle, either. She was entirely mystified by the simple light and didn’t even put two-and-two together and think that someone came looking for her, but that is exactly what was happening. The drone was towing not only it’s own connection cable but a radio cable to communicate with Fuso, all that was needed was for her to grab the cable with non-corroded metal. The team tried to get her attention by waving the arm and cable around but she was still fixated on the light, they eventually caught on and waved the cable across the light. Her eyes caught on and trained on the black like swinging slowly across the orb. Her mind sparked up a thought and took it in a hand, the end buzzed and numbed her hand and it felt like pulses and communications of sorts. She noticed the more rust it touched the less she felt it so she took the end and slithered it into her mouth and working it under her tongue. Suddenly she heard voices, voices! She was hearing people talk to her! The camera on the drone watched her face brighten up like a star as joy flooded over her, it was finally all coming together in her mind what was going on. Someone was coming specifically for her! She cried tears of joy as she heard her name on the wire, they were calling for her to respond, trying to pry information out of her.

“Hold on, I need a moment!” She cried, she wiped away tears from the recessions in the armor where her eyes were fixed. “I’m overwhelmed with emotions!”

“Fuso, Fuso is it you? Are you Fuso?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m Fuso!” Her first thought was blurted out before they could say anything. “How’s my sister, Yamashiro?”

“Yamashiro?” There was a pause as she heard talking in the background. “Yamashiro is fine, she is visited frequently by divers. A deep dive for the experienced only but it is done.”

“Is she happy?” Again silence as background voices talked, they replied with uncertainty. Fuso asked about Nagato, Yamato, Kongo, and was depressed when she learned they all sank as well, but when she was told that Yamato and Nagato were raised and alive again, doing very well and were happy Fuso was elated with joy. She longed to talk to her friends again and begged if she could, and the Japanese crew on the other end said that she would but she’d have to agree to some conditions. But before she was read the conditions she asked about Kongo, she wasn’t mentioned. There was no pause here.

“We’ve never found Kongo.” Fuso was silent, Kongo was very close to Fuso and Yamashiro, because Kongo didn’t have sisters, just failed attempts at sisters. The fact that Kongo had never been found hurt Fuso as well, she was older and more lively than Fuso, she thought about what was happening to her and couldn’t even fathom how she was doing. It was time she decided on the conditions. She already knew she would probably agree to anything, she had already threatened her own life and gone insane many times over, it was all a matter of how bad she was going to be treated. She was read out this long list of terms and agreements where she kind of blanked out and looked at how miserably rotted she was, it was almost repulsive and was thankful that she couldn’t watch it happen to her. Once the list seemed to be dwindling to an end she paid more attention, once it was all over the speaker summed it up for her. “In summary, Japan is raising you and putting you back into service, you’re going to be upgraded significantly and act as a testing ground for future systems. Once you’re retired you’ll be put into a shipyard and converted into a museum for your service and live off of donations, being a museum, and maybe a few other means. Do you accept?” She was amazed, shocked, she couldn’t comprehend everything that she was feeling. She accepted as soon as she could croak a yes past her crying and the lump in her throat.

Redemption!

Reunion!

Work began on her to raise her once again, her stern section did drift away from the break up and sank in shallower waters, it was easier to find and salvage but worse off corrosion and stability wise. Her bow section was eventually raised and as the moonlight came back into her vision she openly wept in front of everyone, on her radio, thanking and blessing everyone who had helped her in any way. The first thing Nagato and Yamato heard of her on the radio was her pathetic whimpering and bawling, she didn’t even notice or care that they could hear her; Fuso kept bawling her eyes out over how beautiful the moon was and the glistening lights of the shore and ships all around her. Neither Nagato or Yamato suffered the same problems she did, Nagato could feel things around her and had many times talked to people and Yamato died, wasn’t alive for any of her time on the bottom. Fuso was completely isolated in a depth so dark that she was wholly blind and numb to anything around her. Workers noticed how mutilated she was, deep claw engravings and pockmarks littered her hull and superstructure, and a lot of them were so deep they had to be filled so she could be floated again, she punctured her own hull in desperation to feel anything. She couldn’t get herself together for the night nor the morning, it was the following afternoon she stopped mindlessly enjoying her surroundings and realized she’d been on a radio with Yamato and Nagato, and that only brought more uncontrollable joy. She was able to at least communicate with them, the three were all excited to be talking to each other again. “Oh tell me everything! Everything I missed! I want to know it all!”

Yamato read from Hisashi”s book all the notes he took about life after Yamato’s sinking, every now and then Hisashi or Yamato or Nagato or Tyler would interrupt and elaborate on something of interest. They told stories of adventures and fun times but none of them mentioned Kongo. Fuso had to know what happened to her, when she asked Nagato piped up. She was very hesitant and unwilling, she said that Nagato was with Kongo when she was struck. She was struck with torpedoes meant for Nagato and she fell out of formation, they tried keeping radio contact with her but the last thing they heard was a call by the fleet commander announcing out an abandon ship. Then it was all silent as later survivors said she blew into two parts and sank rapidly. Nagato was in a painful memory. To bring up a lighter note it was Yamato and Nagato that pressured Japanese officials to investigate Fuso and Yamashiro for being raised. Fuso inquired more about Yamashiro and she was told that Yamashiro liked being down on the bottom, she enjoyed being a reef and attraction, so much marine life lived off of her she couldn’t see herself leaving. Fuso said that she’ll be able to get her up and out. Fuso was asked about being on the bottom and she almost broke down crying for not so good reasons. Fuso said it was torture beyond all belief, misery for no one to endure, and she admitted to almost killing herself to escape that hell. She did mention how at first she believed she deserved it but eventually she came to realize no one deserved that. Nothing did. Somehow that reminded her about her crew and asked how many were saved. Ten was her received answer.

She was silent again, she failed again. Guilt swept over her again, as she mentally slapped herself for her failure to let go of the boats. Yamato and Nagato sensed their friend in trouble and moved to tell her it wasn’t her fault, how hundreds survived the sinking but refused help, how many were cut down on the beaches by the natives and that they chose to die honorably. That made her feel somewhat less at fault but she was now angered at the waste of life she was, not her life but the waste of life her sinking was, pointless death and something that could have been prevented had her crew swallowed their pride and accepted her plea to find safety. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so fucking terrible. She was pampered up back to a cherishable mood by Yamato and Nagato and she stayed this way all the way back to Kure, where Yamato was.

Yamato had a large smile on her bridge face and very large and perky eyes, her excitement to see Fuso again made her shine and glisten with happiness and affected everyone around her in a good way. But when Fuso saw Yamato it was almost the exact opposite. “No! Don’t look at me! Don’t look at me! NO! No! Please don’t look at me!”

“Fuso,” Yamato saw she was ashamed and grieved, Fuso had hundreds and hundreds of deep scars and wounds, her taboo trophies and her misery awards on display for all to see her disgrace. “Fuso you have no idea how happy I am to see you! I don’t care what you look like, Hisashi says I looked terrible as well! Don’t be ashamed!” Fuso tried to shun away in fear and cowered, even more, when Yamato described Fuso to Nagato so she could get an idea. The two of them said that they were very proud of her, proud that she stuck through the isolation and praised her for surviving all that time alone. They gave her the warm welcome she never thought of, the love she had abandoned, together again after the isolation. Once again Fuso’s friends bolstered her into her own self, someone that hasn’t existed in over seventy years. She thanked the two of them, her two friends with all she could. They talked even more and more about current events, about the United African Federation, what changes have come to Japan, how the world moved on, and what the world thinks of living machines like them. Fuso secretly felt a little stir deep inside her when she learned that the living machine people were more accepted and more humans have been finding love in machines and increased as she learned that the world had become much more tolerable of inter-racial relationships. While technically she wasn’t a race, more of a different species, she did align herself with the Asian “race” and culture, she was always interested in western people. Somewhat of a fetish or select turn on for her. She was drawn to them uncontrollably.

Fuso saw how ravaged her stern had been and realized how resilient her life metal was to the corrosion. Her stern was way worse than her bow, the mast was gone and the decks collapsed. She learned later that it sank and landed upside down which assisted with the collapse but in regards to the degeneration it was still much worse than her bow section. She was eased into a slipway near Yamato, they were very excited to see the reconstruction. Fuso was briefed by Yamato and Nagato that she’d be asked what modifications she would want during the reconstruction and the two gave Fuso multiple ideas they had gotten done and something that they wish they had. Most of them were for utilities like cleaning, cooling her genitals, generals reach, and an ability to look all the way around her, but there was an impressive list they gave Fuso for the more.., fun things. They recommended multiple rooms outfitted with the ability to make love and cuddle, those rooms with a camera that has some mobility within the room, the cooling veins to be exposed for the sex organs-this made them more effective, less likely to cramp up, and when they were pinched the organ heated pleasurably and ramped up the feeling. That last part intrigued Fuso and Yamato equally. So when Fuso was interrogated for any modifications she presented them with the ones she liked and some other personal things that she wanted. She wanted her four 12,7 cm mounts to be upgraded and her radar sweep to be improved and modernized, she said she would like her battery of 356 mm guns to be upgraded to Nagato’s 410 mm and her main battery fire control to be improved as well. She requested more usable and faster deploying life rafts and a whole reconstruction of her damage control and fire fighting systems. She demanded that her passageways and compartments be completely overhauled so it is easier to abandon her. She presented all that and the little things that Yamato and Nagato recommended.

She was later advised on all the things that passed the bosses and mostly everything she asked for was either already on the list or accepted. It was when work began she learned of the things that she was denied, the first thing she disliked was when her turrets were removed the central turret wells were also gutted and the surrounding areas also cut out. It was cut out because Japan decided that Fuso, and any other ships they raised of prior military service, were to be converted to accept the new Aegis system and be platforms for guided missiles. That was one of the things she protested, another thing was the overhaul and near removal of her pagoda style masts. All the platforms were removed and replaced with all sorts of radars, search, tracking, fixed, revolving, all new bells and whistles that overtook her iconic look and streamlined it into a more solid structure. Yamato said that she thought it looked good for Fuso, who was at the time getting her open bridge eyeglass replaced. Yamato described her new look to Fuso:

“So all the decks above your face are gone and it’s plated solid. It has hexagon panels, looks like four, that encircle it. There is also some jutting antenna like posts for sweeping dishes and radar, it looks like you will keep your rangefinder and the old radar was removed and they put a mast in its place with many cool looking rods and radars, new radios and such. It looks more like my tower, actually. You even have the swept arms at the top with an observation deck right below the rangefinder. I think you still look like a hot woman to me.” That made Fuso blush, she looked away and appeared to tend to the wounds she was healing naturally now that she was healthy. Soon Yamato announced that she was close to halfway through her pregnancy, and at the same time, Fuso was joined at last. Her innards were gutted and worked from there, installing all new propulsion systems and ventilation for the whole ship, new framework, piping, system control, and pump stations. Her central smokestack was rebuilt and in place of the searchlights were new Close-In Weapons Systems, designed to rip anything within a few miles a new asshole, her secondary battery of the 14 cm point guns in casements were all removed and covered over. Her four mounts of the five-inch guns were removed and in their place was a turret that was designed to be eventually outfitted to Yamato when she’s called upon, it didn’t look much different from the enclosed ones already on Yamato other than the fact that there is almost no manual input in the turret and the gunners’ optics are now cameras and fixed tracking radar points. While her inner compartments were being furnished and tweaked her weapons systems and navigational computers were set up, she was amazed at what she began to feel as everything was powered up. She had a new gyro stabilizer connected to the systems that told her where she was, her rocking and swaying. She felt everything hundreds of miles away, while her radar was tuning she felt birds, birds! She felt the forests, the cars, planes, ships, boats, oh she felt everything! She learned that the system she was using was built and developed by the Americans based on the systems they used during world war two, and now Fuso saw why she lost, why the navy lost. There was no way she could run, no way to hide, and with the accuracy of the guns, she understood why she didn’t stand a chance. She did notice that they weren’t precise in their shooting, and she’d eventually learn why. Her construction halted with two superfiring turrets forward and aft holding two 406 mm guns with a caliber of 50, the guns that the Americans were putting on their new battleships during the war, and her two old mounts amidships were gone and had instead two massive wells with hundreds of missile silos. She was excited, she wanted to sail out to sea and test her systems but knew she had to get everything aligned.

She did set sail and leave the Kure slips and Yamato, waving goodbye to her home and friend and set sail with a small skeleton crew to go to the naval base at Yokosuka where American techs will be to align and maintain her systems. The prospect of meeting Americans excited Fuso, she had all her upgrades placed and was hoping she could snag something fun to play with. It excited her, the thought of the taboo explorations chilled up and down her keel over and over. She noticed that she wasn’t overheating anymore and was much slicker, now all she wanted was some foreign meat to show her how they do it in the states. She soon arrived at Yokosuka and was entered against a pier surrounded by all new ships, all of them were so smooth and sharp! They looked nothing like what she had ever seen, only having one or two main battery guns and those guns were smaller caliber, she was staring in awe of these weapons of mass destruction. Hisashi told her like he did Yamato, he said every destroyer have more firepower than any battleship during the second world war. She was the most massive ship there and felt the smallest. She looked around and saw the two countries intermingled, Japanese colors amidst American colors and it made her feel unstoppable. She thought with America and Japan as allies they were giants and dared someone to step up and challenge them. She learned that recently Japan had earned their offensive arms back and was allowed to construct carriers and long-range missiles because up until then Japan had a non-aggression clause in their treaty that disarmed Japan of any munitions or weaponry used for mainly offensive purposes. That included battleships and carriers.

Very soon after being docked she switched crews where the arriving crew comprised of Japanese sailors and American sailors, she smiled and tingled everywhere very excited and yearning to have some fun. She felt them as they stepped aboard with their bags and gear and immediately started trying to scope out who she wanted to go for. She noticed rings on some fingers and dismissed them, she’s not a dirtbag and felt some were big and ripped, others were tall, short, broad, thin, all shapes and sizes. She felt some women in the mix as well, she was stunned to learn that women were serving in the navies, on ships as well. One of the men coming aboard felt very different, very, very strange. He was average size but much heavier, not big but certainly dense, She was drawn to him because of that and that alone, of course, there were certain traits she was still looking for. She had narrowed the list down where he had to be able to keep it a secret, look decent, be enthusiastic, and have a fun personality. She decided she wouldn’t settle on any of her clauses and hoped for more, however. She let them settle in and unpack before she did anything to test them.

Very soon after the original crew was all gone the new crew were instructed to acquaint themselves to the layout in the best way-cleaning the entire ship bow to stern. “Fucking shit” resounded throughout the crew as they grudgingly went off to go find something to clean. She listened in on conversations and gauged some personalities on them and how they interacted. She tried to see if anyone would ask the dense one about his condition but nobody did and they all seemed to notice nothing. She bounced around but kept drawing back to him for one reason or another. She picked up enough to know he worked hard and took pride in his work with good dedication. She began to like him, but had never seen him yet and hoped he was decent and that he could hold a secret. She noted that everyone started to wrap up their work and were relaxing, she hoped that she could see the dense one and talk to him. Just before people started changing in the berthing some higher-ups came around and rounded up a working party to make the decks clean, Fuso’s aft decks are lower in the water and her new power-plant is strong enough to slosh some water up and onto the lowest weather decks. So dense man and some of his friends rushed out to get it swabbed and done so they could relax. There were three of them that got only one mop cart with three mops for the job and they hurried out onto the deck listening to their humorous talk. “You’re gonna spill it!”

“No I’m not.” The dense one said.

“Could you not spill it on my pants, that’d be real nice.” The third one said, he was stout and had some water slosh onto his pant cuffs. They bicker until they reach the stern jack-staff and begin swabbing, they’re gathered around the one bucket churning and sloshing their mops around trying to soak them at the same time, making sloshing noises and the slurp of plunging as the sticks are shaken up and down. “I don’t think this is gonna work.”

“Yes it will, I saw it in a video on the internet once!” The dense one said, the three laughed at the comment.

“Fucking Christ.” The other one said, still dry and chuckling.

“It wasn’t Christ but close enough.” He retorted, compounding the laughter, Fuso got the joke at the first comment but the last one solidified it for her. She, too, laughed and giggled at the porn joke. She giggled and decided she was going to go for the dense man and find out if he’s dense in all the right places. She silently thought to herself in the back of her mind ‘jackpot!’

Fuso let them be while she figured out a way to meet him, how does she tell him she’s alive? How’d she do it the first time? Damn, can’t remember how. She had many difficulties thinking of how she did it in the first place, during her first cruise. She had forgotten how she was more accepted in the world and still feared an uproar. Right in the middle of her thought she lost track of everything and was surprised by slapping on her conning tower. She was shaken from her thought and she looked down and saw a man with a mug standing there looking right at her eye. “Hi!” She was completely stunned.

“Shit-uh, fuck!” She instantly spat out quietly, she was caught off guard, reeled onto her heels, it was the dense one talking to her! “Uh, hello there! Weren’t you just working-somewhere, uh, on the fantail?”

“Yes, but they dropped liberty and let us go. You’re still Fuso, right?”

“Y-Yes! I’m Fuso, so-uh, what’s liberty?”

“It’s basically free time. You speak English well, where did you learn?” She was stunned still, how did he know about her? What the fuck does he think of her? Is he single? He want sum fuk? What’s his name?

“Hold on, who are you?”

“Don’t try reading the name on my blouse, everybody else calls me a few things like Chad or Walter. I don’t really care what you call me. Probably’ve been called worse.”

“I’ll call you ‘Mitsuna Hito’ then.”

“Sure, I guess, so where did you learn English?”

“I learned it from Kongo way long ago. She was built in Britain and so she knew English. I had to help her with her Japanese.” He nodded understandingly.

“Makes sense, so how do you feel?” He was really upfront about talking to her, she was not ready for this. How’d he know she’s alive?

“So Mitsuna Hito how do you know I’m alive?”

‘They told us when we got our orders.”

‘Oh, that makes things easy.”

“Mm-Hm!” He was sipping his mug. His drink was dark like tea but it didn’t look right to her.

“What are you drinking?”

“Sweet tea, it’s good. Want some?” He offered her the mug, she accepted the offer and tried it. It was warm and as soon as she tasted it there was a gritty texture embedded into it and it was not the crisp bitter taste she expected. It shocked her and she spat some back out into the mug.

“THIS IS NOT TEA!” She proclaimed, thrusting it back into his hands. “That was disgusting! What’s in there!?”

“Tea with lot’s of sugar.” He was looking down into his mug, her saliva had mixed in and turned it darker brown like dark coffee. “And spit.”

“No, no, that is NOT tea! You don’t know what tea is, do you?”

“No I said it was sweet tea, woman, tea with sugar. I know what tea is.” He took a sip and nodded again. “Now I have sweet Fuso-spit tea.”

“I taste better than that junk!”

“Oh you wanna bet?” Immediately her loins started burning, she liked where this was going.

“Oh I’m sure of it, Mitsuna Hito, let’s bet.” He was drinking his strange drink still not sure what it tasted like. It was confusing.

“Bet what?” She thought about something before he could explain that nowadays it’s just an expression.

“If I taste better then, you tell me why you’re so different, why you’re denser for your size.” He was caught off guard and looked to his veins, he had very light skin and were clearly visible. His veins weren’t purple or blue, or even red, they were dark grey. All of them.

“You can feel that?” He whispered to himself, she heard. He shook his head guessing so and ran his hand through his thick and full auburn-red hair. “Uh, sure? I mean I would’ve told you if you asked but, whatever. And you? What if my tea tastes better?” The only thing she could think about was sex, how could she work herself into those pants?

“Well,” she stuck her tongue into her cheek bulging it, “what do you want?” She asked seductively with a little tongue flick across her lips. He sort of stared at it processing what she just did.

“Uh-huh, well,” he looked into his mug and swirled it, “I wanna go home but I don’t think you can do that.”

“No, no I can’t do that.” He nodded sadly and kept thinking.

“Well then if you don’t taste better then you tell me sea stories.”

“Alright, I was probably going to do that anyways.”

“Then we’re even! Great! Now I’ll get to asking around and proving you wrong now, nice meeting you!”

“W-Wait-!” She stopped him before he left with an arm. “What do people think of me?” He stopped, letting her hand hold his biscep firmly. He shook his head and shrugged.

“It’s a mixed bag, most of us are from other ships or have been waiting around for a ship. I got orders to you a long time ago and I’ve been hopping around other ships waiting for you to get here so I’m excited to finally be stable. I’m also very excited to be on a battleship, and one with quite the influence in history. But as for others, mostly happy to finally have our own ship, others are bored of it, many don’t really care, not too many negative complaints, but I dunno, you’ll just have to listen around. I’m pretty sure your Japanese sailors are honored to serve with you, wise and historical, a symbol of Japan, don’t worry too much about them.”

“So if I have a Japanese crew than why are you here, American?”

“Well, you have an American fire control system on you, and your Navy doesn’t have the crew with the job for it, so while they are trained we’ll be your crew. We are also here because you are being upgraded, not built off of the system, so we need to use our expertise to make sure you actually work.” He waited for her to let go of his arm but she didn’t. “So do you miss your midship guns?”

“I DOOOOO!” She whined and whimpered. He chuckled a bit.

“Don’t worry I miss guns, too, but you’ll soon fall in love with your missiles, big girl. I promise you that and I fulfil promises.” The prospect of making him fill dirty promises made her wet, very wet. She bit her lip and mesmerized herself in fantasy, rubbing his arm persuasively. The thoughts that ran through her mind made her ooze, made her moan, made her tremble, and made her body electrifying as Walter could feel through his thin sleeve. He was enjoying the touch more than he thought, it relaxed his body and made him feel drowsy and energetic at the same time in a nice blend. It ended up arousing him as it was probably intended to do, and as much as he would love to smash some Jap battleship vag he couldn’t.., yet. He grabbed her hand and suddenly couldn’t let go, she pulled him closer to her. He propped himself against the jutting superstructure base and enjoyed the nerve massage while she lived out her fantasy. She was bringing herself to the brink of orgasming by just thinking about sex, that is how dry she has been. She finished right before she came and broke off from her ride and brought herself together with heavy breathing and muttering to herself in Japanese. She felt him still in her grasp just slumped against the bulkhead and she blushed hard, feeling the heavy heat on her cheeks and felt hot and sweaty. She had just embarrassed herself-or had she? It seemed like he had fallen asleep. “Mitsuna Hito? You awake?”

He didn’t respond, he was limp but breathing steady, warm and alive to the touch. He obviously wasn’t dead. Her body and hormones were still in a sexual mood and she was getting more and more curious by the minute. She hadn’t felt a penis in decades! Her curiosity overwhelmed her mannerisms and she decided to sneak a poke or grope. A mischievous hand slithered its way from his arm to his calf, gently squeezing the thick muscle on the steely bone. His knees protruded proudly and firmly yet slid under her hand as it passed over. His thigh was exhilarating to her, she was almost there and it started getting warmer as she got closer to his crotch She could feel blood pulsing under his trousers as her senses heightened and her breathing grew faster as her hand crept towards his nether region. But just before she reached it, oh how close she was, he stirred and started moving about. She quickly yanked her hand away and back to where it belonged. He fumbled around and got up to check the time. “Have a good nap, Mitsuna Hito?”

“Yeah I did, you have fun beating the bean?”

“What?”

“Flicking the bean?”

“What-what the hell is that?”

“Rubbing one out, masturbating. You enjoy it, perv?” Fuso blushed hard and showed through her new paint that she was embarrassed, she didn’t know what to say, why she did it at all, she was embarrassed. He chuckled when she blushed. “Ah! Don’t worry about it, I mean, there’s like, forty people in one small room for months on end, don’t think they don’t do it a few times? It happens.” She cooled off a little bit and giggled a little. “Just remember, when someone walks in on you masturbating, you gotta look ’em in the eye and finish.” She smiled jokingly and locked eye contact with him with her joking smirk. “Fuck. Aight, make it fast!” He put his hands on his hips, squared off, and stared into her eyes with a super-concentration face. They sat like this for a moment and they laughed it off, she didn’t do anything and he knew she wouldn’t. He started back to the door and she stopped him again.

“Hey, Mitsuna Hito, we had a little saying, too. It was the fish will always burn later, the hand is never wrong.”

“What does that have to do with anything? It doesn’t even-oh, well, Palmula Handerson is clean.” She laughed again.

“Who?”

“Palmula Handerson,” he held up his right hand and waved, “she’s always there, faithful, willing, tight, loose, she’s whatever you want her to be. She even has her own facebook!” He was chuckling by the last sentence. Fuso got it and laughed along.

“If, ok, if you have Palmula Handerson by your side, who do I have?”

“Paulm Fingerton, he’s from Flickensburg.” She laughed more, these names were so stupid yet hilarious. “Ok, well, I’m done. I need to go get some rest.” Walter headed inside to get some sleep, leaving Fuso to think about what had just happened. She felt ashamed of herself and disciplined herself not to do that again. She tried to figure out what made her go off the rails so much that she masturbated right in front of him and went for his genitals while he was asleep. That was wrong of her. She figured that she probably should get off or be gotten off before she does something really wrong. Only a few hours pass before nightfall and around then is when Walter wakes up, instantly Fuso talks to him in his head.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Wow.” He responded instantly.

“Don’t worry, you’re not crazy it’s me, Fuso. I can talk to you through your thought.”

“No, I know that, but wow, right off the bat. No easing into it, no warning, just boom! That’s how it is?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s how it is. Wasn’t it obvious?”

“Eeeh, nah.” He sarcastically retorted, “not obvious enough. Next time you should work on it.”

“Sure thing, so,” Her face turned into a naughty grin while she asked him the question, “uh, now that’s it’s dark out and you’re rested, you wanna do that taste test now?”

“I haven’t asked anybody yet, and besides I got shit to do in the morning, I gotta sleep some more while I can.” She knew him fumbling around was either because he couldn’t fall asleep again, or she had aroused him. “Fuck. I can’t sleep now.”

“Oh come on then! I’m sure I’ll tire you out! I promise you!”

“Oh really?” Suddenly she realized that this is what was making her so abnormal, this teasing build up. If she was going to get fucked then she’s all for it right now, but if not then this could be very bad.

“Walter I need to know something, this is serious to me.”

“Oh shit, what?”

“Are we actually doing this?”

“This?”

“Are we fucking?”

“Oh, no, not tonight.”

“Not tonight?”

“No, not tonight.” Her hopes were crushed a little, but he did say tonight.

“So if we aren’t doing anything could you not tease or play like that?”

“Yeah, sure. I won’t do it no more.”

“But you would do it? You said not tonight, not never.”

“Yeah, not tonight. But later? Possibly.”

“That’s all I needed.”

“Can I sleep now?”

“Yes.” There was a pause as he laid there staring at the bulkhead. “Need a lullaby?”

“Yes please.”

“Too bad.”

“Damn.”

She left him to sleep and wondered if he could be moved to one of her private rooms. She really liked where things were going between them and didn’t want to wait for things to get intimate before moving him. She did genuinely like him, he was pretty funny and not afraid to speak his mind, something Fuso aspired to be normal, not just situationally. She tried to figure out herself where she stands in the chain of command but couldn’t think of a good spot. The next morning she woke up Walter and asked him who she should talk to about her position. He said she probably would answer to either the Captain, the XO, or the CMC, those were her three options. She agreed to that and when the Captain was rung aboard that morning she followed him into his cabin and asked him herself. “Excuse me, sir, do you have a minute?”

“Fuso, right?”

“Yes, sir.” He looked at his watch and in a little black notebook.

“Yes I have time, what do you need?”

“I have a few questions, sir. I’ll start with the simple one, where do I fall in the command chain?” He sat down at his desk to think about that one, he ran down the list with her.

“Alright, well you are the ship, you were commissioned ceremoniously, so you’re an officer. You don’t run any divisions or workshops, not in charge of a field, yet, control them..,” he put some effort in his thoughts, now, “uh, so you could be right next to the XO. Influential but not overriding her. For now, you’re next to the XO. I’ll shoot that question higher up, big Navy might want to answer that. Anything else, Fuso?”

“Yes, so if I wanted to move someone from their berthing to somewhere else could I?”

“Well, what’s the reason? If it’s because there’s a problem with them being there we can do that, is there a problem among them?”

“No, sir, more the opposite. I want to move someone to one of my private rooms.” The captain thought about what this meant.

“So, this is because of a relationship, then?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And they are in berthing, not a stateroom?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So they’re enlisted?” She didn’t seem to know what that meant. “Enlisted as in they aren’t an officer?” She quickly jumped over to Walter.

“Mitsuna Hito, are you an officer?”

“What? Uh, no.”

“Thanks.” She went back to the captain. “No, sir, he’s not an officer.” The commanding officer groaned with frustration.

“So I wouldn’t have an issue with it if his chain were fine with it, and if it wouldn’t negatively affect his performance. I know you can’t really go out to town and find anyone, so I won’t stop it, but there’s strong policy against fraternization. Basically officers can’t have an intimate relationship with any enlisted, unless it is prior service or commission. Say, if you were enlisted, then became an officer, as long as you both were recognized officially as a couple than it’d be fine, but you’ve been commissioned longer than he’s been alive.” He thought about how creepy that age gap was, left a sour taste in his mouth. “Realistically, it happens and it’s not as enforced as long as the two are not in the same command, which for you is unavoidable, that would probably ruin your love life if it was enforced on you.” He thought long about it, Fuso was sweating right now, she was hoping that her interest wouldn’t be cut off. “Alright well I’m hesitant about it. I’m going to ask the admiral about it, you go ahead and shoot it up his command, to see if they would speak out about it. If his divo or chief isn’t happy with it, then it technically ends there before I can even hear about it. Nothing I can do there.”

“But sir, you’re the captain, he’s under your orders.”

“Yes, they are, but unless I’m informed about it and it needs to be done or is something of an issue, it doesn’t really concern me.” He got up to leave but closed the door before he left for one last comment. “But say if you can’t move his rack there I don’t think anyone would mind if he, say, slipped away for an hour or two on the downtime.”

“Thank you, sir!” She left him to go do his business. She snapped back over to Walter and asked him who his chain of command was and where she could find them. He answered one at a time and once Fuso had tracked them down and gotten through the initial contact she proposed the question. Overwhelmingly the chain agreed that it either didn’t matter to them as long as he showed up to work, and his Chief said he’d like it a lot if he knew where to find Walter at any time. The Chief asked if he could ask Fuso where he was at any time, she agreed readily. She conveyed her excitement to Walter and also warned him of her apprehension, if the Captain didn’t get a good word back then he couldn’t move.

In the meantime, however, he proved to her why the Chief regarded him so well, he worked hard on his gear, the CIWS, affectionately known as Sea-Whiz, but laughably known as ‘The Bastard Son of R2-D2 and an A-10 Warthog.’ Walter regularly says that he has anger-management issues and daddy problems. Another name she’s heard is R2 with a hard-on. But being the Bastard Son entertains her more.

The Captain did eventually get a report back saying that it was fine for Walter to be moved and it solidified where ships like Fuso are on the totem pole Essentially she acts like a chaplain, she is a knowledge pool that can be referenced by anyone who needs it, and can speak to any crewman, officer or enlisted, in confidence. One note also instructed that affairs, even intimate, between ship and crewman, are not frowned upon and encouraged. Big Navy understood that her choices of flings or spouses are pretty limited, and agree that she should be free to engage in an intimate relationship with whomever as long as they can operate in a professional manner at any given time. Fuso assured the Captain that she can abide by the rules and pleaded that the Captain move him to the room. He was fine with it, but the last person that needed to give her the go-ahead was the Executive Officer, and he wanted to inspect and investigate first.

“This is the room?” The XO had just opened the compartment door and was surprised at how small the room was. Fuso had to tell him why it was special, why she wanted it to move Walter there, and where it was. She did not tell him anything else about it. “This isn’t a room, this is a big closet.” He stepped into the room and with one glance left and right saw everything in the room. The room was barely long enough for the built-in bed frame on top of two lockers on his left, at six-foot-three the man’s hair was grazing the overhead, and on the right was a shallow closet-style locker. The room was painted, surprisingly, but it was a drab and dreary grey. There were a red light and a white light in a fixture above the bed, and that was really just about it. There weren’t any pipes in the compartment that wasn’t for Fuso’s use but with a compartment so small really only that could fit-and barely. The XO finished his tour of the space rather quickly, and for the rest of the time he allotted he talked to Walter, and told him what he wanted to see every morning during inspections. He understood what the room was for and knew what would probably happen to the white sheets, so he said to Walter to double up on the linen and to change it to a clean set every morning. Walter abides by what the XO said to the letter and moved all his personal items to the room. Fuso was very excited.

The room was on deck one, that’s one ladder down from the main deck, the weatherdeck, and was right next to the conning tower. His room did not have an adjacent head like most other berthings so he had to navigate his way back into his old berthing, which his division was responsible for and still had to clean daily, to shower. If he wanted to relieve himself he could go up a few decks to another head where it was just a toiletry. He made everything up nice and tidy and got all his things placed as instructed and relaxed. The workday had ended and his maintenance was done, he’d been released on liberty, and decided to break in the mattress and talk more to Fuso. She talked about how excited she was that they had a little room to be alone together in, but her excitement worried Walter, they had grown pretty fond of each other as friends, but he had to break some news to her.

“Fuso, I can’t remember if I told you or not, but we only sign up for four or six years, I signed up for six.”

“So? That’s how it was in my day.”

“I’m hitting four right now.”

“Oh.” She realised what he was getting at. “Well, you can enlist again, right?”

“Yeah, but.., I was only put here, aboard you, for two years. We’re just here to make sure the guns systems from America work right. Then we go back to America. Not only that, but if I re-up, I’ll be going to another ship. More likely a shore command.” Fuso’s excitement was crushed. “You’re really fun to hang out with, I’d love to stay, but my whole family is in America, and I’d like to at least have my wife there.” When he said he wanted his wife in America it warmed her heart and shriveled it up, he had thought about staying with her in a real relationship, but knew it couldn’t be.

“Oh.” She was really sad, now.

“Hey, hey, gimme a hand here.” She reached down and he held it in his, “I’ve still got two years here! We can still do things, maybe it’ll help us with nabbing something better. Get us into the market again. Just don’t let things go too far. Sound good? Besides, you’ll always have me if you can take leave to America, and I’ll have you here if I get stationed here for shore duty, or just to visit.” She felt a little better as he caressed her hand.

“Two years is a while.” She began to get excited again, might as well start things off quick if it won’t be too long-lasting. “You wanna really break in the bed?” He thought about it as more arms and hands came down to massage his body and try seducing him.

“Well, not yet, Fuso. I still want to get to know you more before anything happens. I want you to get a really great vibe out of it. You will not be sorry, babe.” Babe? He just say babe? She was really excited about that, she nearly forgot about the whole talk that just happened because he said babe. He got up, got dressed while she slipped some looks at his nether regions to excite her sex. He was generally pale, fair skinned, and had thick auburn hair. He dressed in civies and said he was going out to town. He left and about two hours later he returned with a backpack full of goodies. There were some non-perishables, paper and pens, and some electronics. Walter was very excited, he pulled out all the electronics and started setting it up, a lot of stuff was from the mail. She watched him set everything up in a frenzy and she couldn’t help but feel so lost about what she was looking at. Once it was all set up he asked her for her coupling tendril, she shifted her vaginal tendril but he stopped her, so she brought down her second thickest tendril. This tendril contained various probes that were used to link her consciousness with his, or anyone else’s, and he held it tightly and told her that what he was about to do may be uncomfortable. He linked alligator clips with lables on the cables attached to probes on her tendril, and it was a pinching pain at first, but once they were all on he turned on a black box and the pain was gone, she was entranced in a whole new feeling.

“Now Fuso, what you are going to feel is very, very alien. You are being connected to the internet, through this game console, and it is going to be very weird and you will eventually be able to control it all yourself, but right now let me do it all.”

“Oh-okay….” She let him turn on a display and a hand-held remote and watched as things came up into her mind and sight. It was like an out of body experience, she saw a menu and movies in little squares here and there, in a background was a little blue woman glowing and standing on a pillar while a giant machine man in green and orange reached out to her. There was a square in front of it that had a title on it and that must have been selected because it looked like it had been pushed and a tone sounded as the screen blacked out. “So that was the game menu, Fuso, I could do a lot from there but I’m picking this game to play.”

“Why?”

“Remember when you asked why I’m so dense? Well, you’re about to meet mom. She did it to me.”

“She’s in a game?!” Fuso was mind blown.

“No, she plays this game, I got her to play it. She likes it, ironically, she’s awesome playing as infantry, but as a vehicle, she can’t do anything. She sucks with tanks and trucks.” Fuso didn’t understand. “She can play with us basically like how two people can talk on a phone, and it’s called the internet. It allows many people to join together from all over the world.” He went on explaining more about it as the loading screen and cinematic played through her mind in that trippy fashion. Once everything had loaded the menu displayed and he explained to her how to use the menu while hooked up to it. “So you see that option, Server Browser?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to reach for it like you want it, just want it and go for it, will for it.” She did, she wanted it, she willed for it, and it selected. She was amazed at it.

“You do something?”

“Nope.” She wanted to see him and she saw him through the camera she had in the room, his remote was in his lap as he sat on the bed, arms crossed just watching his display. Her mind went back to the game. “Now do the same for favorites.” She did and again her will brought it to her, she was starting to like this. He had her go through the options and told her to go for the option labled ‘Hellbroom4_METRO_24/7’ and congratulated her on getting into her first server all by herself. She felt proud and blushed. In another menu, she was given four options and she chose the one labeled ‘ASSAULT’ and suddenly she was in a tunnel flooded a few inches with rubble and shoring all over it. She heard strapping sounds and suddenly human arms pulled up a gun with a scope on it. She freaked out.

“GAH! What’s happening!?” She heard more strapping sounds behind her and another human walked out in front of her and looked at her. It looked like some of the soldiers that were guarding her during her rebuild.

“Hey, Fuso! It’s alright.”

“Is that you?!”

“Yeah.” She was looking at the top of his helmet as he walked into her, his long gun disappeared at his side and a pistol came up with his arms. You’re an avatar right now, a human avatar.

“What does that mean?”

“Well you aren’t you in the game, you’re a person. That flickering line in the bottom right of your vision is your health.” She confirmed as she glanced in the direction. He proceeded to tell her what all the UI and HUD elements were on her ‘screen’ and what they meant to her. Next he explained to her that unlike him she could somewhat feel what her body was doing, and as he worked her through her new digital body she began to look around, move around, and interact with the game. She felt her actual body ghosting around her, it felt similar to wearing a Halloween costume and toting it around everywhere. For a short time it made Fuso’s mind ache and uneasy, but the longer she messed around with her digital form the better she felt. They messed around for about thirty minutes and Walter was now teaching Fuso how to aim and use her gun, she was really not a fan of direct lines of fire, she had never ever done that and pointing the gun right at the target was alien to her. When she was working on her shot group she heard more strapping behind her and felt the presence of another person.

“What? Who is that?!” She was uncomfortable and was nervous, and felt like she was going to be shot.

“Fuso this is Mom, Mom, my ship, Fuso.” There was brief interaction between them, they exchanged names and some of their history, forming a relationship between them. The three of them talked and Marion, Mom, gave some tips to Fuso about how to use her avatar, it had been done to her before. Fuso asked if she was using it now, but not, Marion was using a set up like Walter. About this time Walter got up to go eat chow, leaving Marion and Fuso in the game together,

“So how has he been?” Marion asked.

“He’s fine. He does his job well.”

“It’s just us here, how’s he really been?” Oh.

“I’ve been trying really hard to get him but I haven’t gotten anything! It’s frustrating, I didn’t think it’d be this hard to get laid.” Marion was giggling a little bit.

“He is reserved, real reserved.”

“Like shit, just stick it in, please!” Fuso seized up, was she really talking about this with his mother? “Why do you ask? Isn’t it, isn’t it just disturbing to ask that? About your kid?”

“Well he’s not actually my kid.” What?

“What do you mean by that? Explain.”

“I didn’t give birth to him, I was, god-mothered into it, so to say. I still mother him but it’s more adult guidance than anything. He was already pretty grown by the time we took him in.”

“So why is he so dense? Why is he changed?”

“So about that, he loves to play a game called airsoft, basically they run around with toy guns and shoot each other with small plastic balls; they don’t hurt much it’s just a sting, anyways he was playing airsoft one day and my husband went to go talk to him about something, I think it was about the car, and they’re standing out on the field and they see a massive deer out against the treeline. I was coming out to look at my garden and I saw them there. The deer bolts off suddenly and he collapses, folds up with a massive cloud of blood spurting from his outfit. A poacher had missed the deer and hit him just below the sternum. What happens next is a blur, I know that I was right next to him and changing him to try to save him, it’s all I thought about doing, instinct, while my husband was trying to tend to his shot wound. I have been through a lot in my time serving, but that was one of the scariest moments of my life.” Fuso didn’t know what to say, she was stunned, shocked. “Unlike my husband he didn’t scream in pain when I converted him, he was already gone.”

“So, how’s he here?”

“He had died but we revived him, one of his friends used my battery to jump-start him. It’s a miracle he’s alive. He still has a bullet in his body somewhere and that scar on his chest.”

“God damn.” She was silent, she wondered about Yamato, she died, she thought about what would happen to herself if she had died. Would she have been raised? Or just forgotten to time?

“So is he just not into you or something? What’s the deal?”

“He’s into me, he says he wants to do it right for me, but I don’t care. I just want it bad.” They moved on to talk about their wants and what it does to their sexual parts but cut it off when Walter came back. A game had started by then and it wasn’t just sitting in the server waiting for more players like it was earlier. Fuso went through an embarrassing baptism by game gunfire where she was a horrible noob.

She felt defeated at the end of the night, she felt that she was holding them back. Walter tried to tell her while she sucked she was getting better. It didn’t comfort her too much, she used it to try and get some dick as her ‘comfort food’ and make her feel better, but Walter said ‘not yet’ and he’d make it up to her eventually. They settled down for the night and slept away. She dreamt of getting some from him, but it transitioned into the story his mom told her, she had an eerie deja vu feeling with it.

They got underway the next week, and while Fuso was sailing through the Philippines sea Walter seemed very frustrated on his watch. His system had been very troublesome, Supply was being unhelpful, and two other technicians in his work center weren’t even aboard, one got pregnant and the other busted his leg so bad he was quarantined to the hospital. He was in the work center, blue lit at the time, and he was sitting at the monitoring console staring at nothing making sure it didn’t break, again, and he was quite agitated. Fuso was playing with a little trinket she found lying about. She had given up on trying to get some from him, she’ll just have to wait some more.

“Hey Fuso, hows it like out there?” He asked through his head.

“It’s pretty nice, the seas are calm, the wind’s calm, and it’s nice and warm out. Fancy a stargaze?”

“Nah, I think I’d rather gaze at something else.” Oh?

“T-There’s not much else to look at.” She giggled a bit. “What did you have in mind?”

“Ah, something special, something beautiful, something that needs a good polishing.”

“Oh really? And how are you going to polish that thing? That oh-so special thing?”

“Like I polish anything else. I get a good slick coating on it and I rub it carefully, making sure to get every spot, all over, until it glistens in the faintest of lights. Along every edge, face, crevice, and protrusion.”

“That sounds like something im supposed to do, I always thought I was supposed to polish something proud, big, strong. I want to polish something hefty.”

“Sounds fun, hey, I’ve got an idea-“

“Let me hear it.”

“How about we polish them at the same time? With each other?”

“I don’t know, that sounds efficient, you aren’t part of command are you?”

“Oh no, but for you, baby, I can be.” By this time both were very aroused, and Fuso was nearly bursting at her welds with glee. Her ports instantly started oozing with excitement. As his watch came to an end and he was replaced Fuso was barely able to contain herself. She had been fighting with herself to restrain from touching herself so that all her lost could be released by another. He wove through the empty passages, lit only by red lights and the pearlescent glow of reflective tapes. Each step he took built up in Fuso and resounded through her hull like ripples on a lake, and when his hand grabbed the door leading outside, the door next to the conning tower, where her port that needed all that polishing was placed, she was biting her lip in anticipation. She was practically shaking with nervous excitement. She had opened her armor up to expose her port and when Walter saw the dripping ooze his lust grew, it shone in the moonlight, showing off a silver-blue sheen that stimulated him. He approached her port rapidly, but hesitated, he didn’t know where to take this, how to proceed, he had insecurities. Fuso felt this resounding awkwardness in him, she helped him by gently wrapping around him a little, and moving him closer to her, placing him beside her port against her tower. Her armored body was warm to the touch, making her body much more appealing than the crisp, cold air. Her looming gun turret shielded them from the punishing wind and imposed a sense of surrounding into him. It comforted him, and her gentle caressing and sweet whispers to him encouraged him to love back, so he did. He placed his middle and ring fingers into her slit, softly spreading apart the lips exposing the sensitive clit and vulva underneath. To her moaning pleasure, he softly skirted his fingers around the lips, making slow, small circles along the way as if he was polishing it, this made her arms around him quiver, tighten, and grab at his genitals. Her breathing grew faster as he kept going, and her vagina, too, began to quiver and contract. More and more of her slick juice gushed out as her moaning pace increased and pitch rise. Suddenly she locked up and exclaimed as a jet of her cum squirt out through his fingers, her arms seized on Walter and her hull actually shook as the orgasm hit her like a freight train. Her vision had gone and her mouth was drooling, the squirt reached out halfway between the towers of the turret and her bridge, and her vulva had sucked Walter’s hand in and the lips held it in place. As her vision came back to her all blurry and the tingly sensation zapped up and down her hull she massaged Walter and giggled with glee. It was her first orgasm in over 50 years. While she was recovering from blacking out Walter pulled his hand out and sucked the juice off of his fingers, lapping it all off his hand.

“Mmm, I wonder?” He moved in front of her slit and knelt down before she could even recognize it his face was buried in her pussy and he was already licking and lapping and drinking her. Her eyes rolled back and she began drooling more, his ferocious lust and dirty desires had her brain dead like a zombie, her pussy used all its free range of motion to grind against his face as he ate it like an animal. He quickly pulled back and licked some off his nose. “Oh yeah, way better without the tea!”

“Fuck yeah! Drink up Mitsuna Hito!” She pushed him back in and resumed her zombified bliss. Her hand had finally gotten through his clothes and she started playing with his cock and balls, through the bliss she could only think about how hard his cock was, how she’d tighten up for it, how fucking big he’d feel, and about all the cum she was going to fill her creampie with. His vigorous work was very obviously one of passion and he brought her to her climax quickly and efficiently. Thankfully her explosion wasn’t as powerful as her first because this time Walter’s face was pressed against it, it squeezed some past the edges of his face but most of it painted his face and flowed out under his chin. By the time they had recovered his clothes were off and he’d gotten up to insert himself into her. “Oh fuck me good, Hito! Give it to me already!”

He slipped in easily and quickly. His eyes were closed as he pictured the look on her face, cues of her satisfaction came from her moans, gasps, and the feedback from her hands. He pictured her of how she looked in 1944, covered in guns and protection. He leaned against her conning tower, pressing his body against hers and pulled out slowly. He started getting a rhythm going and tired his best to keep his endurance but his dry spell was too long, in about a minute or two he couldn’t hold it off any longer. Although during those precious minutes he relished inside her, her plush, hot walls gently massaged his cock ad left it covered in its thick, slick, juice, while gentle quivers and contortions would grip him giving a short buzz of extra pleasure. Every time he would penetrate deep it got tight around his head and firm at the base of the helmet on the underside, which assisted in bringing him even closer to cumming right where it felt best. While he’d pull out a little suction tugged on him and forced her vagina to hold him back, as if calling him back inside again. When his climax did arrive it knocked him against her, he pushed his cock as deep inside as he could, right back into that marvelous hold, right up against her tower, and spilled his balls out into her depths. She withered in delight as she felt his semen pour out into her pussy. A wide smile stretched across her face and she was all warm and fuzzy on the inside-not just where his cum was, she felt worthy, sexy, and confident about herself again. She was still a good cock masseuse. She held Walter up against her body, running a hand through his hair and ruffing it up. Neither of them heard the other moaning their names, but it still encouraged them to keep going. The first thing said, and heard, was by Fuso; “I had fun, my little Mitsuna Hito, I enjoyed that.”

“Gah-uh!” He groaned happily, his doubts were put to rest with that. He wanted to make sure she got off and enjoyed the sex, he just wishes he lasted longer. “Yay, maybe next time I’ll last more than three pumps, huh?” She giggled a little and whisked him up to her lips on her conning tower. She forced him to kiss her, in a lopsided make out session where Walter was confused (French kissing isn’t common practice in Japanese culture) and the taboo rush excited Fuso. Once she was done making out she licked his junk from bottom to top, making sure to sneak her tongue under it all.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll get your sack time up.” She then hugged him again and put him down. While he dressed he asked her to change the bedsheets to the ‘dirty’ set, and she did because he was a mess of fluids, but didn’t expect anything else. Instead, he got in the room, changed pulled her thick love tendril down and cuddled it, inserting his half erect cock into the slit along the side while he kissed the slit on the end of it. This got Fuso whimpering and wet again.

“Alright, Fuso,” he whispered to her softly, “load me up.” Carefully she reached between his shoulder blades and inserted her connectors into the nervous system, carrying him into her mind again. There she was floating and he was in front of her hull, her size, he moved and leaned in from her port side and kissed her on the lips again. “Fuso, go back to your forty-four look.” She was still confused somewhat, she didn’t know what he was doing, why he was that big, or why he wanted her world war look, but she complied. Without even noticing she went from her modern day appearance to how she looked a month before she sank. AA gun mounts everywhere, sandbags all along the railings and blast shields, extra boats and cables were strewn about, and gone were the missile pods, the new radar-guided weapons, the new paint, all restored to September of 1944. He smiled to her and she had just then noticed that she was looking at him through her observation bridge face, the one she clawed off, the one she hasn’t used since. He moved in and kissed her more, embracing her hull in his arms. “You look much better, baby.” Suddenly she was flipped on her side and he was rubbing her hull vagina with his cock head. Although on her side everything stayed in place, an alien feeling to her. The more he rubbed the more flush her face got, twisting into a pleasured zombie face again. She felt him grab her deck and thrust his cock into her, she whimpered and gasped as he penetrated deep. She could tell it wasn’t real, but damn did it feel good! As he started pumping in and out she could feel more vigor from him as he wasn’t tired after a long day or low on endurance. His only limits were set by his lust, how much did he want it? They were finding out the fun way. Her whimpering lengthened and her hull flexed with his smooth motions, he moaned back as she gripped him exactly how she did earlier. He suddenly picked up his pace and fucked her hard until she was screaming at him enthralled in ecstasy. She bore arms to wrap around his back as he smacked his crotch against her double bottom hull, creating stimulating suction on him that made her tighter and flex on him more. He certainly lasted much, much longer with this form. He lasted just long enough to vaginally climax her, she bellowed as she thrusted her hull into him while the orgasm hit her. Her motions broke his composure and he, too, came, pressing her hull against his crotch as he relaxed into her. The simulation that their minds catered couldn’t recreate the cum they spilled, but nonetheless, it was still enjoyable, just not as enjoyable as their real sex could be. She thought that he’d wrap up here, she was panting and trying to catch her breath, but he aligned his body with hers and wrapped his arms around her hull again in an embrace and wrapped his legs around her stern. He gently kissed her belly, the keel section underneath the forward most turret, with his arms just behind her forward conning tower and over her third turret’s guns, and his legs wrapped around the stern deck on the fantail. She just now felt how big he’d pictured himself to make her feel best. Feeling this small in comparison was strange and offsetting, but she quickly warmed up to the feeling and enjoyed it. She felt safe, happy, and loved. She wrapped her own arms from her hull around him, and they intimately made soft love in this lucid dreamworld they shared. They whispered their love to each other as he made his cock throb and pulse while she convulsed and stroked it internally.

Filed under Gingyflame, Stories · Tagged with , , , , ,

The Imperial Might of Japan Herself

I’m back! I know I’ve been quite quiet over the past.., few weeks but I’ve also been writing another story. The story of the largest battleship ever, the IJN Yamato. It’s a long ass story but it’s worth it. Trust me it’s good. In other events Black Ops III is out (got to try it, there’s a WWII simulation map and it’s a Tiger II GALORE <3<3<3), Halo 5 (I heard it was a let down 4 and 1/2 hour campaign) and so is Fallout 4 (which I’m sure the lot of you are playing and won’t see the light of day for a few weeks) and soon my personal favorite, Battlefront III (sticking to the classic count) is arriving. Anyway enjoy all!

 

Hisashi climbed down the ladder to the roof of the conning tower bridge. He stood back and bowed.

“Good morning Yamato.”

“Good morning Hisashi.” Her voice was elegant, beautiful; it captured her poetic namesake of Japan and all its beauty. Hisashi erected himself and looked up to the bridge where her brown eyes looked back to his, the tall and menacing tower of metal and man was an impressive sight no matter where you saw it, but only up close can one see a decade of war taking its toll on the mighty symbol. Her armored plates had sign of weathering, her eyes heavy with sleepless, bomber filled nights, her magnificent voice uttered by a slow moving pair of lips tired of trembling in fear of fire bombs, and at worse sight a usually unmotivated crew. The crew is very inexperienced, only two combat missions during the whole war, and only once did Yamato use her guns. The crew had come up with a list of the most useless things in the world: The Great Wall of China, The Great Pyramids, and Yamato, and she didn’t challenge the list, either. She’s a mighty vessel, largest and heaviest in the globe. 79,808 tons of metal machine and all it’s done to contribute to the Emperor’s war is sail as a show ship almost. She confides in Hisashi and him alone her troubles, feeling of worthlessness, desire to fight, alienation from her fellow fleet ships, and her feelings of dishonor. But this morning on her newest voyage she had a hopeful fire in her eyes. “We’re going to Okinawa, Hisashi; we’re going to the front. No carriers. I’m the fighter now.”

“That’s great, Yamato, that’s great. Finally we will fight for the Emperor! Fight and beat the Americans off our homes!” He was more excited than she was. “And then we will return victorious!”

“Hisashi, don’t tell anyone this but,”

“What is it, Yamato?”

“It’s only a one way trip.” His heart sank. No returning, no glorious arrival, this is a fight to the death mission. “We’re going to beach on the Okinawa beach and halt any attempts to land until we run dry.”

“So be it.” Their voices were tense and low; they had dreamed of after the war, together as a part of the mightiest navy ever, they’ll now never see the day. Whenever they’d previously sit together they’d plan out how they’d engage the Imperialist Americans, dream about ravaging their puny ships and how they’d triumph over them, and steam into the San Francisco Bay Glorious in battle triumph.

“We don’t have much time left, Hisashi. I’d like to live as full a life as possible.” Her tone had dropped even lower. One day she told him of a lovely dream she had with a husband and a child, it was vague and she barely remembers it all but for that whole month she was obsessed by it, dreaming, thinking, talking, and sharing it with Hisashi alone. Often he’d ask why she only talked to him on such matters, the commander was much wiser than he was, but she never got around to confiding to the commander. She would talk to everyone and follow orders from the bridge but she never got personal with anyone but Hisashi. Still, he didn’t mind.

“A taste of the sushi, perhaps?” He knew she had always wanted to eat sushi. He got up from his folded seat and moved towards the ladder.

“It wouldn’t be refused.” She said with a smile, but that wasn’t what she wanted to say. “Hisashi, do you ever feel compassionate around me?” He stopped on the ladder. He folded his arm through the rungs to hold himself as he thought.

“I wouldn’t deny the rumors.” For a few years there has been a rumor that Yamato and he were planning to marry. Yamato heard it and passed it to Hisashi, but neither confronted anyone about it. They let it be a story that excited the crew on this long dull post. Yamato didn’t share the other rumor that the crew thought of; the long and loud creaks and groans of her hull at night were love-making between them. That rumor was false entirely, she shifted around at night just to move, any movement felt like a million miles to her, and she loved moving in her tight dock slip. She looked down at Hisashi into his eyes and waited for him to continue. He didn’t so she took the lead.

“At your heart would you agree? Truly agree at your heart?” This made Hisashi stop and think. He grew tired and slid down the ladder he thought that long; searching his feelings and after a time he found his answer.

“Yes.” Yamato fought hard to hold back a smile but it showed anyways, Hisashi saw and couldn’t help but smile back. Her teeth were impressive but not overwhelming; everything about her was representing the beauty of Japan: her teeth were straight and nice with a white polish. Most other battleships have shark teeth or simple razor fold teeth for a fear and intimidation factor but not Yamato; she had her eighteen inch guns for that. Rarely did Hisashi see her teeth so it was like a shining star to him. She noticed that she made him smile and blushed a darker gray than her base coat.

That night she slept quietly and soundly for the first time since American bombers flew over Japan regularly. She dreamed of a strange turn of events where once she arrives at Okinawa the Americans pull back, and form a treaty with Japan to cease the bloodshed of their people. The Emperor agrees to this and the fighting stops. She is then refueled and moved back to Japan and from there they tour the Pacific, all the while figuring out how Hisashi and her would marry. They run into the fabled American battleship Iowa, the Iowa tries to smooth talk her but doesn’t get through to her. Later Hisashi takes her hand in marriage and she bears beautiful children, then her dream was interrupted by the Commander.

“Yamato, Okinawa reports an increase in carrier activity. Ready for an arial attack close to Okinawa.” He noticed her confirmation wasn’t normal. “Everything alright, Yamato?”

“Yes senpai, well, no senpai.” He asked for her to elaborate. “I wish for a fuller life, senpai, to love and birth and raise children.” The commander nodded. He suspected she’d be going through rough emotions since hearing about her sentencing.

“Do what you see fit for fulfilling that. I know I wish I could see my wife one more time.” With that she figured she’d hurry her relations with Hisashi up to the sex and possibly pregnancy. If she could beach herself maybe the Americans wouldn’t scrap a pregnant and ammo-less ship, and spare her Hisashi as well. She realized that the Americans would show no mercy to her, none. By then she would have sunk many ships and killed thousands of Americans, she is doomed no matter what. Tears began to roll from her eyes; she began to quiver in fear. The largest and mightiest ship in the world is crying and quivering in fear.

She felt Hisashi stir, they had a unique feeling of each other, and they knew each other’s feelings like their own. Even now in the midst of his night’s sleep he felt her distraught emotions. He arose from his cot and dressed himself in the dark before making his way up the superstructure. The bridge commander stopped him and brought him close to whisper in his ear. Do whatever she wants. Hisashi replied, I always intend too, sir. Then he climbed another ladder up a deck and opened the access door to slide down the ladder to the conning bridge roof and bowed.

“Yamato, what’s wrong?” He asked as he sat down.

“I never did anything with my life! I-I-I wish I could do more, to marry, to birth, to love!” She was about to break down again when Hisashi let his heart flow.

“I love you, Yamato, do you not love me?” It worked, she stopped tearing, she was silent, both of them knew the answer, she did love him. “Yamato there is not a single thing you listed that we cannot do tonight.” She smiled a little.

“Even the birth of our child?” She said questioning.

“We can start it.” She smiled more, slowly and armored panel beneath the ladder moved away and a large protruding hose-like object appeared looking like a vagina at its front.

“Please start, then.” Hisashi moved towards her vagina, unsure and curious of it. He leaned over and looked at its sides; pistons and hoses, hydraulics and piping covered it. It had gears and such all along it’s sides making it look very mechanical and easy to fix if something went wrong. It turned him on more than her vagina did. Her vagina was placed on a faceplate that looked like the bow without the protrusion; it gradually thinned into the lips of her beautiful vagina, like it was elegantly crafted by an artisan. “Are you alright, Hisashi?”

“Y-Yes, I’m fine, Yamato.”

“I’m ready.” He placed his index and middle fingers onto her lips at the top and felt how surprisingly soft she was, plush and smooth; he trailed his fingers down her slit softly. Her soft moans fueled his passion; he trailed his fingers up and down soft and slow until a little silver ball appeared at the top. He rubbed that softly, noting it was moist, and plunged his fingers into her hole to test her moisture levels. He eased his two fingers in and out pumping her and searching around for her good spot. He was breath taken by how soft she was, so plush, tender, and hot. “You’re making me so wet, Hisashi!”

“I’m ready.” He undid his pants and shirt, pulled out his fingers; they were dripping with hot silver lube, and placed his throbbing cock head against her eager lips.

“Yes, Hisashi! Yes Hisashi! Do it!” He followed her plea and fell on it; her moan signaled he’d gone deep. He felt her hot walls surround him, her slick inside welcome him, and her love embrace him and warm his insides. He hesitated to leave, still trying to figure out just what he was doing exactly, he pulled out to his head before thrusting into her again. Yamato was egging him to go faster, so he tried pleasing her and please her he did. Her eyes were mostly clenched shut or looking down to him, her mouth agape and moaning and grunting. Her whole hull and superstructure shook with every thrust.

On the bridge everyone could see Hisashi was doing a good job. Her windows used as eyes were blacked out and shut, her moans echoed softly inside, her shudders could be felt in anything they touched, and this was making the most of them a little ashamed and uncomfortable. They felt like they were trespassing. Only the commander and two of the elder men smiled. One young and curious sailor started to lean towards the window to peak but the commander swatted his shoulder and frowned at him. The sailor stood back shamed. The radio operator, one of the elders, tuned into what the Americans called “Ms. Tokyo” radio station and listened to her music and propaganda using the speakers on max setting to drown out Yamato.

“Oh Hisashi! Oh Hisashi! I never thought it’d be this good! Oooohh!” She wailed, Hisashi kept humping and humping, looking up to her face and watching her signs of gay enjoyment. He looked back down towards her vagina. Her lips wrapped around his cock and held on, not wanting to let go, and every time he pulled out a sheen of silver coated his cock to keep it warm in the cool air. “Oh, oh, oh YYEESS! Harder Hisashi! Love me more!” He complied, thrusting more powerfully and deeper into her. He looked down and watched as his thrusts pushed her vagina against his crotch and then coil back from its base like a cannon and then follow him out as he pulled out. He went hard and fast, watching himself penetrate her and push her vagina in. He listened to her gleeful cheers and rambles and felt amazing. Soon he felt her tightening on him, her moans becoming more rapid, and her temperature increasing. She snaked her arms around him and inside his remaining clothes, as she told him she felt it building. Then he felt himself rapidly building, but knew he couldn’t pull out, she wanted to feel it, and she needed to feel it. He started to moan, letting his body do its job without worrying about keeping it in anymore. Suddenly he couldn’t hold back, he pushed in as deep as he could and let go.

She cried aloud, “it’s so hot! So hot! It’s everywhere!” She felt it first inside her depths then it seemed that the whole pacific was Hisashi’s seamen, so hot and creamy; it made her feel hot all over and everywhere. Hisashi felt relieved, and Yamato’s great full cries made him feel even better, but she was still tight, still waiting her turn. And she was too good to only fuck once. He eased back out drawing a long moan from Yamato, she didn’t think he’d keep loving her but she was happily wrong. She wanted the most from this little time, she focused on what she felt and was not disappointed. She felt his skin, the slick shaft that rubbed her right, the cum still oozing from his cock. His hot seamen kept coming and coming, she never wanted it to end. Abruptly Hisashi pulled out to his head before dramatically stopping, causing Yamato to yelp in surprise.

“Ready for another?”

“Always!” He plunged back into her tightening pussy, pulling a moan from deep within her as her grip locked on him while her orgasm arose and couldn’t be held back anymore. He watched and felt her pussy throb around his cock, silver liquids pumped out of her vagina lips against his crotch. “I love you, Hisashi, I love you like the fish love their ocean.” She held him until the oozing stopped then allowed him to continue with the second run. It lasted longer than the first and was more intense as well, they built up together and at the same moment their cusps overwhelmed them and they came at once. They rested, still connected, for a good amount of time until Hisashi rolled off her to the side and leaned his back against her tower base. She wrapped around his body and dressed him again. “That was amazing, Hisashi. Surely that was enough to fertilize me.” He felt hot, sweaty, and perfect in her arms. She never wanted to let him go.

“I feel like we’ll never see the result, Yamato that makes me feel depressed.”

“I know. I know.” She thought of how her carrier sister ship sank; submarine. She thought that one day she might be risen from the depths, and rebuilt, and if they do have a baby inside her it will grow and come into a better world, with Hisashi as the father and herself as the mother. Only thing was: Hisashi will die. “Hisashi, there’s something I want to tell you.”

“I’ll always listen, my love.”

“I will sink, but I may still live on with the baby inside me on the bottom. We might even stay together; the German cruiser said that’s what their battleship did.”

“What? How?”

“She said that the battleship’s lover was transformed; I want to transform you.” He thought about her want. He was told to do anything she asked.

“Yes.” She comforted him, readied her injectors and placed them where it felt natural, and then she listened to his screams as she changed him. She finished up and held him tight, ordered for him a blanket and pillow to sleep with where he lay, in the fetal position, so she could hold him in her arms like they were married. Like they were married after this war and home in a harbor slip. And there they slept.

A few hours later they were awoken: the battle was imminent. The officers passed around sake, and told the crewman to drink, to ease the pain ahead. Usually when Hisashi drank he could get only a third threw the bottle before he was too drunk to think; he downed the bottle faster than he could a third earlier and barely felt any different. The rest of the crew wasn’t fairing the same. Later there were run-ins with the American planes, Yamato and an accompanying cruiser engaged repeatedly but to no avail. She was talking to Hisashi when she abruptly stopped and told him a report came in about a hundred and fifty aircraft heading their way. Then her face darkened, she felt them on radar. She wrapped around Hisashi for comfort, he tried his best to comfort her but they both knew that she was obsolete, air power took the seas. The aircraft turned towards them in an attack pattern, her crew fired all they could. Her 18 inch guns were loaded with the buzzbee anti-air flak shells and fired at the incoming planes. The tracers went everywhere, the drunken gunners sprayed everywhere, bombs went off everywhere, and torpedoes were all around her. She was struck a few times and listed to the sides; she clutched her Hisashi in her arms as her damage control pumps righted her. For two hours the American planes tormented her, strafed her decks, the gunfire tearing her crew limb from limb, half from half, flesh from bone, life, from existence. Men screamed everywhere; turrets were hit with bombs and exploded into the sky. Her escorts were diced up as well. They were bombed and torpedoed to the bottom, only fifty miles from Japan’s most southern point. She felt the end was near, the planes were getting closer and closer with each run, and much of her AA batteries were dead, disabled, in flames or all of the above. She lifted Hisashi, he was quivering in fear, and she looked him in the eye with her gorgeous eyes reminding him of Japan and asked him one last promise. “Hisashi!? I need you to promise me one more thing!” He knew what was coming, she thought about what she’s asking of him, tears began rolling down their faces. “Promise me, promise never to forget me!”

“I promise! I promise never to let you go! I’ll never leave you! Always with you!” They both leaned in; she brought him close to her lips. They kissed. A kiss is an unbreakable promise, something reserved for the closest of loved ones. And they meant everything about it then. She felt her side get rocked by a torpedo, felt the rush of warm Pacific water rush in, and keep coming, flooding her pump station and her halls. She knew she was sunk right then. She savored his lips’ taste. His warm flesh tainted with the salty air and his sweat. His tongue sat on top of her massive tongue, stroking each other for comfort. Hisashi felt her tense up, felt her fear. He took in her salty metal lips and tongue, her slick warm fluids flowed into his mouth, her tender love amongst her amass of war and hate. He felt her pain, the flooding; they shared every feeling they had. Suddenly the heat in the middle of her erupted. Her eyes shot open and her mouth went agape, Hisashi was dropped as her arms went limp and an explosion ripped her in half, Hisashi felt a part of himself be torn from the whole, then half of his essence felt empty. He plummeted to the raging seas below and was hit hard. He struggled to return to the surface where he fought to stay above water. He met with a small group of survivors and drifted with them. They were all heart broke, demoralized, and any hope of Japan’s survival sank with their ship. Some cried, cried like babies when they knew they dishonored their family, the Emperor, and most of all- Japan. Everything they lived for in their eyes abandoned them; they were the most worthless things in the universe in their eyes. Hisashi cried for his lost love on top of the dishonor, he felt her death. Not her disappearance, but her life leaving her hull when she was ripped by that explosion. They all watched the mushroom cloud standing over the ship dispatch after minutes of intimidation. They were soon picked up by Americans, triumphant in their slaying of the beast, celebratory in their victory. No Japanese sailor could bear to look at anything but the deck. No matter where they sailed Hisashi knew where she was, he felt her presence on the bottom.

When the two bombs dropped on their home soil and their country surrendered the crew of the Yamato, and every other sailor, pilot, or soldier, felt the shame of defeat on their shoulders. Depression settled among nearly every one of them. Once they were released most would return home to move on with their lives and rebuild their culture and homes. Not Hisashi. He moved to the most southern point of Japan, built himself a seaworthy fishing vessel, and every day of the weekdays he sailed out to his lover’s grave and sat. Sometimes he stayed overnight, waiting, waiting, waiting for some sign from his lover, from his long lost Yamato. He could drift anywhere overnight and he’d know his way back to her grave, just by their connection he knew where she was and how she was. He longed to be with her every hour. Years and years and years later he still went out; never missing a day he couldn’t miss for getting more gas, food, or money. Occasionally he’d go fish with the son of his neighbor named Takeo, they were like father and son, and whenever Takeo went home he felt like that was something he missed out on with Yamato. Nevertheless he remained faithful towards his lost love and never searched for romance, but that didn’t deter him from advising the youth about love. He was viewed as the wisest in the village, and would be asked for knowledge often. Few knew why he was the way he was; a 30 year old guy that’s wiser than the 60 year olds, when he was really in his hundreds by the time the research vessels came and moved him off Yamato’s grave.

“Sorry but we have Japanese authorization for this project.” The announcer spoke in English.

“How wong?” He asked in the stereotypical Japanese accent. He actually could speak English fluently.

“About two to three weeks.”

“Dat no good. I need dis spot fow fishing.” He always welcomed explorers and gave them space, as long as they shared what they saw with him. Even still two weeks minimum isn’t what he wants, alone time was still important. “I go as wong as you tewl me what down dare!”

“We’re here to resurrect the IJN Yamato.”

“I’m staying here then!” He instantly dropped the heavy mispronunciation accent. “You cannot stop me!”

“On what grounds?” He thought quickly.

“We’ll talk in secret; we’ll meet on your ship!”

“Negative, what is your relationship with the Yamato?”

He hesitated. “.., lover.” He was brought on as some con artist, living ships were made famous by the raising of the Titanic two years ago but nearly all records of Yamato were lost. He sat down in front of a (useless) translator and the Captain of the ship. He uttered two words.

“Say again?” Hisashi sighed. For nearly 76 years he kept this secret.

“Back in nineteen-forty-five the Yamato and I were very close..,” he explained his whole story with her, and then he told them his routine for the past 76 years. He even pointed to people who were on previous search parties for the Yamato remains and said the date their first search was. The men in the room were impressed. The Captain leaned over and asked for an electricity measuring device. Hisashi didn’t catch the whole name but knew it had to do with the electric current in metal that usually give life to them. He was granted permission to stay on board for the operation for his insight and knowledge of her interior. As he watched submarine footage of the eerie black turn to greenish orange rust he felt shivers.

“This is where that final torpedo hit.” He was told. Just then the sub’s ultralights kicked on and Hisashi saw a hole bigger than his fishing trawler, deeper than his trawler long, black as death itself. He was staring at what killed his Yamato, and he knew there was more to her death than that. They circled all around the upturned hull, investigating the multiple torpedo holes in her massive hull. They decided to put the shiny probe needles down right on her belly, one of the most sensitive regions of a ship, and tested the frequencies for any life. They tested for a charge sufficient enough to sustain life.

All failed.

Then they tried vocalizing their presence, even Hisashi piped up towards the end.

All failed.

“Again.”

Failure.

“Again.”

Failure.

“Again!”

Failure.

Every try failed. Yamato was dead. Some of the guys there pulled him back into his chair and patted his back. One of the more empathetic women massaged his shoulders. His whole hopes of finally talking to her again, ever, vanished in the blink of an eye. He cried like he did 72 years ago. After the tears started he got up and left, went to his trawler where he had a picture of Yamato’s broadside at the dock. He took that picture. He put it in his finest frame and made a little mural around it with a little book of his time without her. He held that frame to his chest and cried himself to sleep in the galley of his trawler.

They didn’t need him that day or the next to be honest; they explored and tested the outer of the hull for weak points and openings to fill. They knew that Yamato was too heavy for a barge or ship bus so they would need to really focus on the tear points to keep her buoyant for towing. The days after they used Hisashi’s guidance in navigating the interior. He wasn’t his helpful self, though, he helped but he didn’t actively help; trying for as minimal conversation as possible. It took even longer than they anticipated, run ins with unknown damage, furniture remains, and a few snagged RC sub bot cables for the most part, but after six weeks she was on her way to the surface. It took a grueling five hours to reach the surface, three more than Titanic simply because of weight and stability. Just before Yamato reached the brightest parts of the ocean the submarines carefully righted the hull. That was when Hisashi, sitting in the back of his little trawler with a camera, felt tears of joy run from his eyes as Yamato’s superstructure broke the waves and rose to the sky. He filmed the rising, and specifically zoomed on the holes that doomed her before taking an expansive shot of the whole scene. He put the camera away and looked at what time had done to his love. Her superstructure was mostly free of rust: being buried in the soft sand on the bottom while her hull looked like half shredded green cheese with rusticles all over her body. The guns were held in place as she sank to the bottom and only a few things were bent out of place. The antennas and wires and poles were swept away and the smokestack had taken serious damage. He followed her all the way back to the port that birthed her, and the same port that was to restore her. The Mitsubishi ship yards agreed to restore their lost child with help from the same team that coordinated the restoration of Titanic. Hisashi set up a tent outside of the yards where he had a clear view of the progress and remained there, watching the team toil away, for as long as he needed too.

 

 

 

Yamato’s eyes shot open, her mouth dropped and she screamed. She quickly regained herself and looked around, something was different. She didn’t feel any water, only chucks under her hull, she felt empty, entire sections of her insides were gone, her guns were working and stowed, and nobody was on board. Hisashi wasn’t in her arms, either. She teared up and looked down where she last saw him. He was standing there, clad in a rubber suit with thick rubber boots. He was smiling ear to ear. She’s never seen him smile like that. She instantly lashed out, wrapping her arms around him and pulled him up in between her eyes, both cried. She pinned him against her, never dreaming of letting go. Hisashi knew what she felt, he didn’t dream of letting go ever again, not in his past near eighty years has he ever dreamed of letting go of her. Soon after they were glued together gangways touched her hull again and men and women went back to work. It’s been three years since they first put her in the slipway for renovation, and they were nearly complete. Suddenly Yamato started asking questions.

“Hisashi what happened? How are we in the slipway? Why am I empty? Why was there nobody aboard?” He whispered all her answers to her.

“You blew up, you died. Your hull sank to the bottom.”

“How long was I dead?” She said in disbelief, it seemed mere moments ago she felt the torpedoes tearing into her.

“It was seventy-nine years ago. We lost the war. Japan wanted you back as a memorial so these people rose you up. They fixed you. You were gutted and your inside was changed for a more appealing look and to fit museum pieces. Nobody was aboard because we needed a massive electric discharge to bring you back to life.”

“Is that why you’re in that rubber suit?” She giggled as she stroked his rubber back.

He too chuckled and agreed. “Yes, yes. Yamato it’s been so long, I’ve missed you exponentially. You missed so much. I wrote it all down for you in a book I left on my trawler.”

“When did you get a trawler?”

“A month after the war, I used it to make a living and sit above you. Every day I went to your grave. Every day I waited for something. I would have given it all away to be with you again forever.” She gripped him tighter.

“Hisashi I’m sorry I left you.”

“That doesn’t matter now. Now, now we are together. Together without a war.”

“Now we can have the child!” She was so happy, super excited, she could barely contain herself.

“Yamato.., they found something inside you.”

“The baby?”

“No, a composition of your life metal. It, too, was dead.” She looked him in the eyes, he wasn’t looking cheery. “It was dead; there wasn’t anything they could do with it.”

“I.., was pregnant?”

“Yes. Not anymore. They had to use it in the restoration.” She frowned and teared up. “They’re sorry.”

“We have to try again?” Hisashi nodded. Yamato closed her eyes and brought him close again. They were locked in that hug for the rest of the day. The night came and workers were still toiling away, her launch was scheduled for the morning. Then her main turrets could be assembled and put in place. When morning came hundreds flocked to the pier to watch the monstrous hull move like nothing into the water. Yamato instinctively questioned why the water wasn’t at her waterline before looking into her answer’s giant and gaping holes. That afternoon the shell pieces were dropped into the well for gun turret number two for display of the huge size, also dropped in was a quarter scale working model of the gun loading process. She was breath taken when a wingless Zero followed them in, then the wings, then some decommissioned bombs, and finally a large table covered in model waves and a model of herself leading three destroyers, a heavy cruiser, the carrier task force, some light cruisers and a Fuso class. A few other models of aircraft, an American task force, and various other gun caliber’s shells before the crane in the rear was put in place followed by the aircraft hydraulic launches. It took a few weeks after that for all three of her main gun turrets to be put into place, but after that she felt complete again.

To her surprise there was already a small crew waiting for her finalizing. Apparently a band of maritime merchants were assembled to man her in her longest voyage ever: to Hawaii. Not to the launch point where they staged the attack on Pearl Harbor but to the actual Pearl Harbor. The crew was dressed in casual clothing as food, fuel, water, and other utilities were loaded on to her and she was prepared to leave her slip. If anyone were to come try and remove Hisashi from her she’d make sure they had a nice swim home. Nothing will separate them again. They loaded for about three days before they set off for Hawaii.

“I wonder how much the world has changed, Hisashi. What happened while I was gone?” She snuggled him close to her and watched the rising sun as she left her home harbor.

“Let me get something from my trawler and I will show you.” She let him go and he made his way through the stairways and corridors to the rear of her superstructure and exited to the aft deck. Hoisted by the crane was his trawler, kept neat beneath the waterline by his disciplined training some eighty years old. He climbed the rigging into the trawler, entered and grabbed a book that has had twelve different spines and hundreds of additions, and left for Yamato’s conning tower roof he always goes to. He handed her the book, ever so tenderly and cautiously did she turn the pages, reading dates, events, journal entries, accomplishments and downfalls. She read and read and read, until she got to ‘Japan regains military’ and stops.

“If we’re just barely getting a navy then why am I not part of it?”

“You’re obsolete. Just like last time.”

“I know that but I am still a capable ship. Why not?” He wasn’t supposed to know this but he did some sleuthing early on in her reconstruction.

“You are set up for modern weapons platforms. If the need be you can be returned to the slip to get your AA batteries upgraded, anti-missile systems, the radar is already directly linked to the main batteries, and the radar is up to date. If you see something on that you can hit it. If we go to war your AA guns will lock on to planes miles away and track their every move. If a missile is launched at you the anti-missile system will handle it.” She seemed to do her little ‘nod’ in agreement, but seemed hesitant.

“So what is a missile?” Right then she conveniently saw a small Japanese warship with her crew at attention, the ship had only one gun in a turret and a massive space in the deck filled only with hatches. She stared confused at it. Hisashi explained:

“That’s the modern Destroyer. More powerful now than you ever were.”

“How? It only has one gun and a few torpedo tubes.”

“Missiles. See all those hatches on the deck?”

“Yes, what are they?”

“Those are where the missiles are.” She wanted to open that hatch and pull out a missile to see for herself what it was but she knew she couldn’t do that. “A missile is like a flying bomb. It’s a mix of a jet engine and a bomb. They can be told by someone on the ship to hit this area, an area miles and miles and miles further than you could reach, and hit it with guaranteed accuracy.”

“How!?” She was utterly amazed and confounded on how that was possible.

“It flies itself like a kamikaze, adjusting, leading, and seeking out the target so it will hit.”

There are things to combat it?”

“Yes. The anti-missile system uses radar to detect the missile and sensors to home in onto its position to shoot it out of the sky as if it were a plane.” He explained the invention of a computer to her, and that the computer is how it all works. Then when he satisfied her mind she continued to read for a little bit before she asked why they were going to Hawaii. “It’s more for you, to show you that we’ve moved pass the war. We don’t want you to be resentful towards the Americans. There’s already a spot marked off for us, there’s talk of a ceremony and welcoming party. Then on December seventh the real ceremonies will begin.” He rambled on about what America has done in the past, what their likely to do, how Americans will walk on her decks as part of a memorial special, all this elaborate planning and how it’ll all be executed.

“I love it when you ramble, Hisashi.” She plucked him up and held him against her face. They shared a silent moment together before she asked about how the cultures have changed. That was when Hisashi rambled on about how much Japan has changed in appearance, culture, and government. He rambled on for an hour and a half, Yamato listened to every word. Finally at the end he got to how there’s so much premarital sex and so much bastard children in Japan. “Sex is now not for two married lovers anymore, it’s for fun with no thought of the consequences.”

“Well, I’m not disapproving of marital sex for pleasure.” She said looking deep into his eyes seductively. Hisashi grinned.

“You’re not actually agreeing with them are you?”

“Not premarital sex but, come on Hisashi. The world’s changing, we should get with the times.” She pulled on his belt buckle. He looked around, it was night time, half the crew was asleep, nobody will be on deck, and they had mastered telepathic communication so nobody would hear them.

“I guess it’s time to stop being the old man of the village, then.” He undid his belt for her, she undid the buttons of his shirt, untied his shoes, unzipped his pants, and stripped it all off him. He sprung up ready and waiting, she put him on the conning tower and opened up for him. This time he didn’t start with fingering, he sat down and licked her from bottom to top. She was already moist, the stripping and thought moistened her, and her whole hull groaned with his laps around her track. He kept licking and probing until his cock ached and her lips oozed her bright silver lubricant. When he felt her leak onto his face he got up and moved his aching cock towards her when she surprised him and launched herself into him, instantly moaning and tightening up on him.

“Like the improvements, love?” Her arms coiled around his and her hands met his at the end. She wrapped around his waist and turned him around, leaning his back against her hull. He slid down to her conning tower roof, leaning against her superstructure, her vagina tendril still fixed to his crotch. He couldn’t help but relax, close his eyes, and let everything go. Years of loneliness, stress, despair, all of it being released by Yamato. Just her arms and hands wrapped around him was enough, her gentle stroking of his hair, her arms caressing his muscles, and with her pussy on his cock it was exactly what he needed and more. Every worry fled his mind, every ache his body, every defect his essence, for once in his life he was whole. Yamato was encountering a similar experience, holding Hisashi in her arms wrought out all her confusion, all her trouble, all her anxiety. His big hard cock stuffed into her tingled her whole hull into a blissful heaven while his firm grip on her hands assured her they weren’t wrong, his relaxed body encouraged her body to relax and relax it did. They silently thought as one. They were one, one being in heaven. The only thing they knew was they were together, peacefully together at last. One thing, however, one thing still sat in Yamato’s mind.

“Hisashi, dear, let’s have our child now. In this time of peace, and grace.”

“Let’s do it.” He whispered to her hull. Suddenly her vagina grew hotter and a little moister. She led him up to his feet, moved her vagina back to its old position, and guided his hands onto the tendril’s sides.

“Love me, Hisashi. Love me like you did all those years ago.”

“I do.”

He pulled out and thrusted in again, and again, and again. He gradually picked up the pace, humping her faster and faster. Yamato figured that the decencies had been lost and let her suppressed dirty drive unfold.

“Oh yes Hisashi! Oh fuck yes! Oh fuck me harder Hisashi! Fuck me harder!” Hisashi was excited by her pleas, this dirty side of her really drove him, he lusted even more than ever. He obeyed her whim, pushing hard into her and putting every muscle into overdrive. Her loud mental moans, groans, and cries excited him even more. She was spitting out so much dirty phrases and cries of pleasure that Hisashi’s discipline broke and he, too, started to be dirty.

“So fucking good! Ah Yamato you’re so tight! Fuck!”

“Fuck my cunt! Fuck my tight cunt! OOOOOhhh fffuuuck! OOOOOhhh fffuuuck!” Hisashi moved his right hand off her side and placed it atop her tendril, moving his thumb to rub her clit bak while he plowed her pussy. “Oh! FFUUUCK! FUCK! Oh Fuck!” She reached over his hand with hers and assisted in his task.

“Your pussy is so fucking hot! Damn it’s so hot!” He also noticed how much tighter it had gotten, but he was cut off by Yamato.

“You’re so fucking big! Fuck it’s so big! Fuck me big man, fuck me more! OOOHHHH YYEEESSS!!!” She came on him, her hot insides spewed out onto his crotch and leaked down his legs to her conning tower roof. She moaned aloud quietly, but very loudly in his head. Hisashi kept rubbing her clit, polished shiny silver like a mirror, and that seemed to keep her juices flowing out of her marvelous pussy. For a good three minutes she kept leaking on him, moaning, and throbbing on his cock.

“Did that satisfy you, my precious?”

“Almost, now it’s your turn.” He instantly went back to humping. He moved his hand back to her side, letting her own hand take over. He felt one of her arms creep up his left leg and her warm and careful hand massage his testicles. She gripped and tugged on his cock, milking anything that would come out. “Mmmm, you’re close, dear.” She felt his cock tremble, his humps hesitate, his hands on her grip. “Don’t resist, cum inside me, Hisashi.” Her persuasion worked. He thrusted into her as deep as possible and came, moaning aloud as he came. Yamato felt again his hot sperm, spewing all over her insides, warming her body and transforming the surrounding sea into a hot bath. “That’s the stuff right there, baby.”

“I’m not done.” He pulled out and pushed in again, for three more minutes. Every time he went as deep as he could he released even more sperm into her. Yamato savored every drop that entered her, encouraging more out of him by milking his rigid cock as he pulled out. “It’s done now.”

“Finally dry, Hisashi?” She said disappointed.

“Yes, dearest, I’m dry now.” He backed out of her and admired the mess they made. Her silver fluids were all over the roof, and backsplash had covered the end of her vagina in her own juices. Her vagina lips sat open, her metal muscles stuck open, slowly closing as more of her fluids barely dripped out, some of his white seamen was slowly falling out of her hole and was covering the walls of her insides. The sperm was racing towards something inside her to fertilize, if she wasn’t fertilized already. But Yamato wanted that feeling that they first felt, as Hisashi sat down again she coiled around him and held his hands.

“You might want to plug the hole, baby, we don’t want our baby to come out early.” She slid herself onto his still stiff shaft. Both openly moaned to the world. Yamato pulled a large blanket around her opening panel for her vagina tendril and draped it around herself and Hisashi, tucking them in to spoon for the night.

“Yamato I have no words to convey how much I love you.”

“Neither do I, Hisashi, neither do I.” They snuggled each other and fell asleep.

The next morning the mess was gone, washed away by the sea mist and spray. Hisashi awoke first; he squinted in the early morning light and stretched out. Yamato still had her arms coiled around his and their fingers were still locked together. He peeked under the covers and saw that she was still riding him, it made him smile. He stirred to get up but Yamato stopped him.

“No, no. Stay here, baby, go back to sleep.” He was pulled back to her hull and as good as it felt and as much as he wanted to stay he needed to get to work. He withered through her grip and got dressed. “If you won’t stay here at least tell me where you’re going.”

He took two of her hands into his and looked into her weary eyes. “I’m going to teach the crew more about us.”

“Our history or our love?”

“Our history.”

“Don’t deny our love to them. If they ask answer. You were always squeamish and denial of us together.”

“That was different, we weren’t actually together.” She brought him up to her eyes.

“But deep down you knew we were.” They peered into one another’s eyes. He nodded, she was right. She put him up above her bridge in front of the access door and opened it for him. “I love you, Hisashi, be proud of that.”

“I am, but will the world understand my pride?”

“They will learn.” She smacked his ass as he walked down the hall. Hisashi couldn’t help but blush. He got past it and met the Mariners in the mess hall. Most of them would be representing officers because of how old they are; only a handful would represent the body of the crew. He sat down and asked a question right off the bat.

“What do you know already?” The crew knew a variety of things, some fact, some fiction, some controversial. Hisashi set them straight that day; he taught them the greetings, honor code, hierarchy, the rank system, everything he knew they knew at the end of that day. The ones on the bridge wouldn’t be taught because they’d be asleep during the memorial, recovering from countless hours on the bridge working away. The meanwhile Yamato read Hisashi’s history notes and tried the smartphone he had out, figuring out what lies ahead for her and Hisashi as parents. Took her a few hours but she found an article from decades of study about machine children. She found that her dreams of a ship baby won’t be feasible, it’s cost way too much for them. Instead she needs to focus on the other end of the spectrum: humorph. She brings it up with Hisashi later that night.

“What worries you, Yamato?”

“I changed our plans, dear; we won’t be having a little ship.”

“Why not?” She sighed.

“It would be just too much for us. So we need to have a humorph, pretty much what you are.”

“What about a mix, dear? We can blend together.”

“No, no, even then it would still be too much. It would be too big and too much resources. I would need to eat one of my turrets and then some.”

“Don’t give up hope, dear, don’t quit on your dreams.” He leaned off the ladder and wiped some tear build up off her face.

“I have, Hisashi, I’ve looked at every possible method I could find. It just won’t work. I’ve already accepted it, no matter what I make I will love and cherish it like nothing else in the world. All I want now is a child and you, but I need your help for this child.” Hisashi looked into her eye, her beautiful, amazing, breathtaking eye. He couldn’t upset her, he didn’t have the strength.

“Alright, Yamato, I’ll help you.” She instantly rejoiced and yanked him off the ladder into a hug.

“I love you Hisashi.”

“I love you, too, Yamato.”

“You know what it means, right?” She asked in a low, seductive whisper.

“No, what?” His mind raced through naughty thoughts.

“We’re doing it. Every. Night.” At first Hisashi was excited, thrilled, but soon his cock ached and hurt, he thought again. Nine months of sex? He knew it’d get pretty boring and sore down there. Yamato smirked and giggled, she knew how he felt.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll keep it nice and relaxed.” She began to suggestively massage his cock with a tendril.

“Really? Here?”

“Oh, no, but later.”

The days passed, each night they loved and fed the fetus’s growth. No problems, only questions and answers, only Yamato’s curiosity and Hisashi’s knowledge. Days rolled by before Hawaii finally came into view, Yamato felt both excitement and apprehension. For her it was only days ago it seemed that her nation and their nation were at each other’s throats. She felt tense and ready. Noticeably she raised her main battery guns a degree or two when an American flag was seen. Later, late night on Dec 5th Pearl City’s lights shone in the black. Yamato was breath taken by the tranquility, no ships routinely entering or exiting, no planes in the shy on patrol, just the lights of homes, beach goers, drivers, offices, bars, and hotels. Yamato couldn’t wait to see Japan from that far away on a cool night. Yamato was slowed to ten knots and waited for contact from the U.S. At exactly the time set up beforehand the Americans sounded on her radio. They discussed for a little, and then Yamato was escorted by tugs to her marked position. When she got there Hisashi decided to hit the sack, Yamato wrapped around him as he slept; she was too tired to go to sleep herself. A few minutes later on of the American Destroyers started flirting with her. She delightfully shrugged him off, flattered by him but not thinking of trying something like that.

“C’mon! There’s a whole world to explore, a little adventure never hurt!” He had a big ole smile on his face. Yamato giggled.

“I’m flattered, little guy, but I’m married and got one on the way.” That finally shut him up. He backed off with a “whatever” and went back to sleep. Yamato looked over his alien body. It looked nothing like what she was used to. After that she tried looking around at other ships. She saw across the way a white bridge in the middle of the water. The reflection of the moon was casting a silhouette of what looked like a huge well. She remembered reading something about a memorial here but she wasn’t sure if that was it. She saw this huge outline nearby; it had a tall tower with shorter ones behind it, a long and low hull, and had three large blocks with massive long tubes coming out. That’s the Iowa that’s here. She thought, it was longer than her, and the angle she had on it, it was also a lot thinner than she was. “Pssssst! Pssst! PsssSSSsssSSSt!”

“What-?” The massive thing stirred. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve got shit to do in the morning!” It was a female; Yamato was excited, she hadn’t talked to another female ship in years, for her memory. Yamato had barely a clue what she said; she didn’t know anything English, really.

“I sowry,” was all she could say in English that was applicable to the ship’s tone, “know Japanese?” Was said in Japanese.

“Yes.” She said in rough Japanese. “Hold on, let me wake up, I’m old and not in the best shape.” Her hull groaned as she stretched it out, it rocked side to side and barely bowed up and down. With a few lip smacks she sounded more awake.

“Good night, I’m guessing you’re the Yamato?”

“Correct. You’re an Iowa, right?”

“Yes, I’m ‘Mighty Mo.'”

“Who?”

“The Missouri.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, barely anyone knows that name.”

“So how have you done, since, birth?”

“I’ve had ups and downs.” Yamato spotted little gleaming eyes on what looked to be the bridge’s reflective windows. “We all have.”

“You were retired in the nineties, right?”

“That was the most recent; our class has been moved in and out of mothball a few times. I wouldn’t doubt if it happened a few more times.”

“Why, though? Your nation has the best navy, it’s huge and massive. Aren’t the destroyers stronger than us now, why were you needed?”

“Well..,” she thought, “I always thought it was for a fear factor, and for inspiration, but when you really think about it, I think it was because our shells are cheap. They’re just cast shells and canvas powder bags, less complex than the missiles.”

“How many missions did you do?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. I never cared to count. I just went at it like it was my last. I know I’ve done stuff in Japan, Korea, Vietnam, the Middle East, and I’ve been escort for a few task forces.”

“How often did you get out?”

“Back then? Tons. I was rarely here.” She thought about who she was talking to. “How many times did they let you out?” Yamato reflected back, years lost at that slip, she hated the miss-use of herself.

“Hisashi could count it on one hand.”

“Oh.” They waited. “So.., who is this Hisashi fella?”

“He’s my husband, soon to be a father.”

“Congrats!” This made Yamato smile, no one had ever gave her or Hisashi a congratulations, this American battleship, once her arch nemesis, is now she’s her closest friend after a few converse words. “Do you know what it is yet?”

“Human morph.”

“Not like that, boy or girl?”

“I’m only a few days in.”

“So how does it feel?”

“No different. I just feel a little thicker in my belly. But every night I need Hisashi, not a want, no, I need him.”

“How?”

“The way you’re thinking right now.” Mighty Mo put her thumb and finger together and put a finger from another hand into it. “Exactly.”

“Nice. Just don’t rub it in. I haven’t seen that kind of action in over two decades.” Yamato nodded to the destroyer that was hitting on her earlier. “Him? Hell no.”

“Come on, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Nope.”

“I’ll get Hisashi out here, have ourselves a double date.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“He might be big..,” they giggled. “At least give him a shot.”

“Knowing him? No way.”

“What’s the worst?”

“I’m stuck with his child. Living with knowing I fucked that little shit, him bragging to everyone about it. It goes on but you get the idea.”

“So he’s a dirtbag.”

“Dirt is more respectable than him.” She looked back to Yamato. “But the last time. Oh it was so good. It was a sailor, one of my sailors, and it was his last night with me, it was so nice.”

“Go on.”

“There was a full moon, shallow waters that were clear to the bottom, and he was in my arms, a cool spring night. He leaned against me and wished he never had to leave. I wanted to spend the last night we had together just making love, making love like time stopped.”

“So, give me details, Mo.” Missouri smiled and chuckled.

“You’re dirtier than him!” She gestured to the destroyer. “Alright, I asked him to do it, I gave him my sugar straw and without a word he’s lapping at my innards. I start to undress him as he’s eating me; he goes to my clit and starts nibbling on it. Oh that was so good! I was in heaven, he brought me all the way, I came on his face, just how he likes it, and that’s when I moved him to my lips. I licked his long hard dick until it was a silver glow, then I put his big dick in my mouth. He tasted so good, he was so warm and hard in my mouth, his cock oozed some cum from his rock head and boy did I drink it, I drank all of him!” Yamato stirred, her pussy started to heat up and moisten. “I put him in heaven, I still can hear his moans and I miss his body pressed against mine, he was always warm and strong, and pretty good in the sack. I sucked him off and just wished that he came forever, that flavor, mmm. I’ll tell you nothing beats that flavor, the flavor of a man, Yamato, you should try it. Anyway so after he came we went on to the main course. I tightened up before he came in so that he had to force his way in. I love it when he has to push his way in; it’s more dramatic and entertaining. But he pushed and stuffed his big dick deep into me, mmmm was it good, so big, so thick, so warm, so, so awesome. We fucked from there, no other way to describe it, he rode me, I rode him, we rode at the same time, I rode him some more, then he over took me, and then we spooned until he was ready again and he rode me more. God that night was the best lovin’ that we’ve ever done. We loved longer than ever that night, from twenty-two-hundred to o-five-hundred. I never wanted the night to end. It was too good. I miss him, I miss him so much.”

“He never came back?”

“Oh he came back, every year he comes back. He has a family now, but, none of them know what we had. Actually, he’s coming to the memorial tomorrow.”

“Do you ever want him back?”

“I won’t lie, I do, but I won’t do that. He’s moved on, I just wish that I could move on to someone else but he’s still there, he’s still there.” There was a silence between them. “How’d you and Hisashi become a thing?”

“How did we meet? Oh he was assigned to me. He had just been moved from a Mogami cruiser as a navigator to me when I was commissioned. He was at first the only one nice enough to continuously talk to me. We bonded over the years and it moved from there. I remember our first time.., it was the night before I died.”

“Wait you died!? You didn’t just sink!?” Missouri was startled by this. Truly startled. “Do you know how hard it is to kill us? Titanic, she snapped in two and survived! The tanks, they’ve been shot, burned, whole pieces of armor disintegrated, and they still lived! What the fuck happened to you!?”

“She was shocked to death.” Hisashi was woken by Yamato sensually caressing his crotch as he slept when Iowa was reliving her final bedding. “When the magazine exploded it discharged her electric life force, overwhelming it and extinguishing it from existence.” Yamato forgot that he got out of bed.

“Mo this is my husband, Hisashi.” They greeted each other. “How do you know that?”

“I talked to one of the mechano specialists. She said that is the only plausible way that could have happened.” Hisashi then talked to Mo in English, occasionally turning to Yamato to update her on what was going on. They talked about what to expect, asked where everything is, and asked about what the plans were for the December seventh memorial. Missouri told him whatever she knew and complemented him on his excellent English. From there they just talked about their experiences, views from the opposing sides of their war, politics, current events, and the rising awareness of living machines. In the morning light of December sixth Yamato saw that the bridge over the well was indeed the memorial, the Pearl Harbor Memorial that sits over the USS Arizona hulk, the “weeping lady of Pearl” looked worse than Yamato did at the bottom. Hisashi said it was because of the light that shone on the Arizona and not Yamato.

“I wonder if she was alive, like us.” She looked to Missouri, Missouri looked back and shrugged.

“I dunno. None of the vets ever mentioned it to me, even when I asked. They all were just, silent.”

“Why do you guess?”

“Well, miss questionnaire, do you have your own answer?”

“I do, I think she was, and nobody talked about her because, well, look at her.” They looked at the ship; there was extremely obvious evidence that she was mostly scrapped above the deck.

“Maybe, I think it’s more for respect of her crew. Regardless if she was alive or not.”

“There is a way to find out.” Hisashi looked at them and disappeared inside Yamato. About five minutes later he and two other men carrying a large generator looking device with a long cable on top attached to two golden probes. The men carried the device to his trawler and loaded it on board. Then a woman with a laptop ran from inside to the trawler and climbed aboard. “Missouri, do you allow us to test a sample of the Arizona’s hull?” She looked around; the entire harbor was closed to the public for the memorial set up operation.

“Hell, go for it.” Yamato stretched her crane over her stern and dropped the trawler into the water. The trawler puttered over to the mostly drowned turret well and the team fired up the equipment. The woman opened the laptop, bored up a program, plugged a cable into the machine and nodded to Hisashi. Hisashi leaned over the gunwale and probed the metal hull. Missouri and Yamato glanced at each other unanimously.

To be continued.

Who Knows what Hisashi means?