Cuttlefish
Posts: 2454
Joined: 1/24/2007
From: Oregon, USA
Status: offline
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May 25, 1945
Location: Hakodate
Course: None
Attached to: TF 21
Mission: Surface combat
System Damage: 3
Float Damage: 0
Fires: 0
Fuel: 475
Orders: Await further orders
---
“I still can’t believe you pulled it off, Ariga,” says Oizuma.
“I couldn’t have done it without almost the entire crew contributing,” says Riku. “It cost more money than you would believe and even then I had to throw in some extras. We’ll be sending several work parties ashore tomorrow.”
“Will that be okay?” says Yoshitake. “And what about the ceremony?”
“It’s all set,” says Riku. “I have some inside help. We just need to decide who is actually going to do it.”
“You will, of course,” says Yoshitake. Riku shakes his head.
“I can’t,” he says. “I’m Shun’s son-in-law now, I can’t be seen using that to get any kind of favor. Shoji is out for sort of the same reason, it wouldn’t look right.” He pauses and looks at Yoshitake. “How about you?”
Yoshitake pales. “I couldn’t!” he says. “You know me, Ariga, I’m just not good with words. I’d mess everything up.”
“Hmm,” says Riku, but does not disagree. He looks at Oizuma. “How about you, Snake Man? You’re educated and speak well enough when it suits you.”
“I very much regret,” says Oizuma, showing no regret at all, “that I will be on duty on the bridge then. There is no way I could do it.”
Riku looks at Shiro, sitting quietly in the corner. Shiro looks back.
“Oh, no, Ariga,” he says. “You can’t…”
“You are quiet and sincere and honest,” says Riku ruthlessly. “Everyone on this ship likes and respects you. You are well-spoken. It has to be you.”
“He’s right,” says Yoshitake.
“Yes he is,” says Oizuma.
Shiro sighs, obviously seeing that further argument is useless. “All right,” he says reluctantly. “I’ll do it.”
---
Later that day there is a rap on Ishii’s cabin door. Ishii looks up from his desk.
“Come in,” he says. The door opens to reveal Lieutenant Miharu.
“Sir,” says the exec gravely, “there is a matter on the foredeck that requires your immediate attention.” Ishii grimaces.
“Gods,” he mutters. “What now? And why aren’t you asleep?” Miharu does not answer, just holds the door open while Ishii puts on and buttons his jacket. Together the two descend the tower and exit via the starboard side. Ishii follows Lieutenant Miharu up the steeps metal stairs to the foredeck, wondering what calamity is about to be precipitated on him this time.
He stops short when he sees almost half the crew, in their dress whites, lined up waiting for him. He hears movement behind him and turns to see more crew coming out along the rail. Above others crowd the AA platform and observation wings.
“What the hell is going on, Exec?” he growls. Lieuenant Miharu says nothing but merely stands aside. From somewhere Ishii hears the voice of Shun, speaking in a roar.
“Ship’s company, attention!”
There is a loud rustle and thump of feet all around Ishii as the crew snaps to attention. From out of the front rank steps one of the sailors, Leading Seaman Kuramata. He has a sheathed sword in a formal carry posture. He approaches Ishii but rather than saluting he takes the sword across both hands and bows low. Ishii says nothing but waits to find out what on earth is going on. Kuramata straightens and speaks.
“Captain Ishii, sir,” he says. “Please accept, on behalf of the entire crew of the Imperial Japanese Navy destroyer Hibiki, this token of respect and esteem.” He extends the sword.
Numbly Ishii reaches out and takes it. The scabbard is a thing of beauty, black lacquered rayskin over finely crafted wood and fitted with silver. He grasps the ivory hilt and draws the blade, which is a bit over two feet long. Sunlight glitters on steel. Ishii looks along the blade and sees that patterns seem to run like water just under the surface. The edge is sharper than a razor. It is the blade of a master craftsman, and Ishii has never seen a finer.
He owns a ceremonial blade, of course, the finest kai-gunto his family could afford after his commission. It is a decent blade and far superior to those being made these days, but nothing at all like this.
“It is a Shigetsuga,” Lieutenant Miharu murmurs, referring to the renowned swordsmith. Ishii’s eyes widen slightly. He sheathes the sword and looks around at the assembled men rigidly holding their salutes.
“I accept,” he says in a hoarse voice. In the face of such a gesture he can do nothing else. Kuramata bows again and returns to his place in rank.
Ishii faces the men on the foredeck and returns the salute. He holds it for a moment and only Lieutenant Miharu is close enough to see the unshed tears in his eyes. Then he lowers his hand The assembled men do likewise.
“Well…” begins Ishii, then stops and clears his throat. “Well, Exec, let’s get these men back to work, shall we?’ Lieutenant Miharu nods briskly, once.
“Ship’s company, dismissed!” roars Shun. The men stream away and soon the two officers are left almost alone on the foredeck. Lieutenant Miharu quietly withdraws and finally Ishii can furtively swipe at his eyes. Then he turns and descends to the main deck, cradling the sword as gently as though it were a child.
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