Cuttlefish
Posts: 2454
Joined: 1/24/2007
From: Oregon, USA
Status: offline
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January 15, 1945
Location: Osaka
Course: None
Attached to: TF 43
Mission: Bombardment
System Damage: 0
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: None
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Shiro stands by the port rail looking down into the water. Many jellyfish are visible bobbing in the low swell, large ones with brown rays along their bells. Jellyfish are hardly an uncommon sight almost any port in the world, of course, but Osaka Bay has more of them than most places.
Oizuma comes hurrying past. He stops and peers down to find out what Shiro is looking at. He sees only jellyfish and harbor flotsam and looks curiously at Shiro.
“The jellyfish,” says Shiro by way of explanation. “I was wondering how I might carve one. It would be a challenge to convey their delicacy and lack of substance in something as solid as wood.”
“Ah,” says Oizuma. He looks back down at the water. “Akakurage,” he says, giving the Japanese name for what in the West is known as the Japanese sea nettle. “Their tendrils can be ten meters long, you know,” he says. “And they can hurt, too.”
“Not as much as I will hurt you for goofing off,” growls a voice from behind him. The two sailors whirl about and come to attention. Shun stands there glowering at Oizuma.
“I am sorry, Chief Shun,” says Oizuma. “I shall return to my duties immediately.”
“It was my fault, Chief,” says Shiro. “I know that Seaman Oizuma knows a great deal about animals so I asked him about jellyfish. I should have waited until he was off duty.”
“Jellyfish,” says Shun in a neutral tone. He gives no sign of whether he believes Shiro or not. He steps to the rail, arms folded, and looks down.
“Not many actually look at them,” he says. “Not after the first week at sea, when you’ve already seen thousands. They’re just there, like foam and driftwood.”
“They probably commanded more respect when they wore armor,” Oizuma says. When Shun raises one eyebrow at him he goes on. “It’s an old story my grandmother told me,” he says.
“Let’s hear it,” growls Shun. The tale of how the jellyfish lost its shell is known to most Japanese children, but Shun is not Japanese. So Oizuma tells the story of how the jellyfish was once one of the trusted retainers of the Queen of the world under the sea and was fitted with a magnificent shell which commanded the respect of all other undersea creatures.
Oizuma tells how the Queen fell ill one day and how it was determined that eating the liver of a monkey would cure her. How a monkey was thus brought under the sea as a visitor and how he was so cheerful and happy the jellyfish took pity on him and told him what was to be his fate. How the monkey tricked them and escaped and how the jellyfish was punished by having his shell removed forever more.
The telling is a bit more involved than this, of course, but Shun listens impassively throughout, his massive arms folded.
“A good tale,” is all he says when Oizuma is finished. “All right, back to work.” He turns and walks away.
“That was a close one,” says Oizuma after he is gone. “Thanks for covering for me, Kuramata!”
“Do you know any more good jellyfish stories?” asks Shiro.
“Not one,” laughs Oizuma.
“Then maybe you should go before Shun comes back,” Shiro suggests gently. Oizuma blinks, then nods vigorously and hurries away.
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