Chapter Text
A breathy breeze blew around the port plaza, rustling the flaky leaves along the grass.
In the training area, metal ground against metal as slashing swords from the training shipgirls whistled in the air. Zuikaku intercepted Enterprise’s strikes with her blade in one corner while Takao and Seydlitz sparred beside them, their swords clanging with each hit.
On the open water, buzzing planes soared above, emitting smoke and the smell of exhaust fumes. Hermes, Princeton, and Kaga manifested their torpedo bombers—Swordfishes, TBF Avengers, and Nakajima B5N “Kates”—towards stationary targets, dropping torpedoes that whirred under the waves.
In the academy, teachers’ voices from the lecture halls echoed in the corridors. Chalk grated against the board in Z23’s class as she wrote out the dates of significant naval battles. Javelin glanced up and down, taking notes with her pen. Beside her, Laffey stared blankly at the board before dropping her head on her desk, drooling. Ayanami’s gaze lingered on the window, her hand pressed under her chin. She sighed briefly before Z23 called her name and scolded her for not listening.
Within a window in the main building, a quiet room stirred. The Commander sat working at his desk, soft light touching the edges of the papers as he reviewed and signed them with the scratch of his pen. Behind him, Howe knelt, her dress rustling with the gentle motions of her fingers as she sorted out files and reports from the drawer of a cabinet.
Neither drifted from their work as if both had settled into a world of their own.
As her fingers traced reports and files, Howe’s hands moved in meditative synchrony, though a faint tremor passed over them as if trembling. And yet, despite this shy rhythm, her heart beat calmly as if earlier’s events hadn’t occured.
Her mind shifted from thought to thought, settling on one thing before moving to another. From her sisters and friends, to baking and socializing, plans and meetings, to work and her training. The most important thought, however, was about the man she thought she knew, but did not—the Commander.
She had no business minding in other people’s lives, and yet a curiosity grew within her. It was a curiosity that, once rooted, became harder and harder to ignore. What is he truly like? Was she wrong about him again? Does he think of her as someone he could… trust?
Her hands paused. Does she really need him to think that? And yet, in her heart, the answer already presented itself to her. Yes, not for herself, but for him. He needs to trust her for her to help. That’s all.
And so she continued sorting the files, reading through tabs, opening smooth manila folders and touching the edges of the crisp papers. After determining the contents of the file, she would organize them in sections: status reports by factions, exercise reports by results, budget summaries by number, and expense reports by date. Her eyes didn’t stray from the documents. Instead, they sharpened.
Minutes ticked by in this rhythm, and as Howe shifted from file to file, she let her shoulders hang low. Her chest rose, then fell as she breathed, before—
“Hmm… Hmm… Hmm…”
Howe’s hands involuntarily stopped. It came from behind her… Was she hearing right?
“Hmm… Hmm… Hmm…”
There it was again. She swallowed. Was the Commander… humming?
Slowly, she turned.
He sat with his back straight, moving his hand gently as he signed a report.
Silence…
Howe tilted her head. Perhaps it was nothing? She returned to the files, though occasionally tilting her head over her shoulder.
As the sun slowly hovered high in the wide sky, its rays softly shifted from a lighter, gentle touch into something more insistent and saturated on the office floor.
A single file remained beneath Howe, which she promptly grabbed. She scanned each word of the header, opened the drawer, and slipped it in. Her fingers hovered above the files, then they paused.
Rows of folders filled the cabinet, neatly organized in sections by the colour of their tabs. Just like a precise mosaic.
The corners of her lips momentarily rose. Then they tugged downwards. She pressed a finger to her lip. Wasn’t there something else she had to find?
She snapped her fingers.
Of course, the expense report. How could she forget?
She reviewed the files once more. Her finger traced over the folders in the green expense report section. Perhaps this?
She took out a file, stood, and flipped through the papers. The file contained all the expense reports submitted in September, and yet she squinted her eyes. It’s not here…
“Hmm… Hmm… Hmm…”
Howe’s breath hitched. Her grip on the file tightened before she turned slowly and her fingers loosened.
The Commander hummed. Not idly or spontaneously, but with the intentional pitch of his voice. Low and quiet, it wasn’t loud enough to be obnoxious but loud enough to be heard.
Howe’s heartbeat quickened. Was it only meant for him?
She turned away.
“Hmm… Hmm… Hmm…”
Her lips pressed together.
She tried to breathe in, but as she did, the file in her hand slipped, and papers swooshed onto the floor. Howe’s eyes widened, and a small gasp escaped her mouth. No… No… No…
She knelt swiftly, and her hands trembled as the sharpness of the reports’ edges pricked her fingers. They mixed with one another, as layers of white on the floor.
Howe’s heart thudded. Why now? Why this? She tried to still her trembling fingers, only for her heartbeat to pause when his chair scraped.
His steps came once…
Twice…
Thrice…
Until his shadow fell over her.
Howe’s fingers froze. Was she in trouble?
Slowly, she lifted her gaze.
His eyes revealed nothing. A faint grayness covered them as if in a haze that blurred their light. Howe tried to swallow, but her throat dried up. Instead, she lowered her gaze.
The Commander stood still, silent for a moment too long.
Howe’s posture hunched. Her nails bit into her palm.
Then he knelt and met her gaze. “Are you alright?”
Howe looked at him.
His face softened. Not by the furrowing of his brows or the parting of his lips, but by the dilation of his eyes. Its shadow vanished, and the grayness settled into his pupils as if it absorbed its colour. They stared at her steadily and unwaveringly.
Briefly, her lips parted. “Commander, I… I…” She bent her head. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded slowly. “We’ll discuss that later. For now, let’s clean this mess.”
His hand reached for the nearest paper, and the document rustled in his fingers, neatly placing it inside the folder to his side. He picked up another and aligned it on the same file. And another. His hands moved methodically, as if this were another part of his routine.
Howe breathed softly, the nails in her palms giving way. Perhaps this wasn’t as bad as she thought? Her hand reached for a paper, then she paused. She glanced at him one last time, eyes shining, before she lifted the report and sorted the papers with him.
The clock ticked by in minutes.
Papers rustled and fingers curled as Howe and the Commander sorted the papers beside each other.
While her hands moved, Howe listened in on the silence—of the words she could have said, or the actions she could have done. She could have ignored his humming, and yet she didn’t….
She inhaled a breath.
At least the Commander wasn’t cruel. He had praised her cookies, vouched for her against Akagi, and yet he hadn’t scolded her. If her sisters knew, then they would surely chuckle.
Howe let out a sigh.
Still, the question persisted—why hadn’t he scolded her? Was he being lenient now because he had asked her to apologize to Akagi?
Or was it something else?
Something deeper in him?
His hands moved in synchrony, neither hesitating nor rushing. The way he knelt—his posture and demeanor—told a story of a man long familiar with responsibility, and conducted himself with it. As his cap shielded his gaze, he remained on the papers with a kind of focus. One that dissolved the world around him like in a gentle fade and made him fixated on the one thing in front of him—his work.
Howe pressed her lips together.
His musky scent, the proximity of his body, and the calm rhythm of his movements stirred an odd warmth in her chest.
Perhaps it was his focus, or the way he moved? Or perhaps it was the softness in his voice that reached her earlier?
Howe didn’t know; only that her posture relaxed, and her fingers moved without tensing.
That was until she reached for the last document resting on the floor.
The Commander reached for it too.
Their hands brushed.
Howe’s eyes widened, and she glanced at him—he glanced back.
Neither said a word.
Howe lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes lingered. “No, it’s alright.” He reached for the paper and offered it. “You can take it.”
Glancing at the report, Howe looked at his face.
The grayness in his eyes remained, though sharpening like the polish of his brass. A small smile tugged at his lips—one that made Howe involuntarily smile back… Though heat rushed to her cheeks and she pressed her lips together to suppress it. “Thank you…”
His smile widened. “Of course.”
A beat thumped in her heart.
“I’ll leave it to you now.” The Commander stood—his right shoe clicking against the floor—dusted his uniform and returned to his desk. His chair groaned under his weight.
Howe remained. Her gaze lingered on the paper, but her thoughts blurred its words:
“You can take it.”
“Of course.”
Her chest purred.
She smiled briefly, and it lingered…
Standing with the folder and paper in hand, Howe slid the document in the file until only a quarter of its white surface stuck out. Then she glimpsed its header:
—Expense Report Summary—
September 20XX
From: Port’s Logistics Officer and Head of Research, Akashi
Howe’s hand paused. Is this it?
She opened the file and took out the report.
…
It is! Howe turned to the Commander and parted her lips, though she stopped herself before she said a word. Should she interrupt him again?
She bit her lip until it puffed.
Then she sighed. He needed to know. “Umm… Commander?”
The Commander turned to her, chair creaking. “Yes?”
“Is this the report you asked me to find?”
He reached for the report between her fingers and scanned it… “Yes, this is it. Well done.” He offered his hand.
Howe stared at it. She slowly lifted her own before accepting the handshake. “You’re welcome.”
His large, firm hand clasped her slender, fair one. Its warmth spread through her fingers as he stared into her eyes.
She didn’t look away.
“That’s that, then.” The Commander finally said. “Would you like to continue helping me?”
Howe blinked. “Yes.”
The sun slowly descended on the horizon until it basked the outside world in an orange glow.
The door to the Commander’s office opened. Then it creaked closed.
As the Commander locked the door with his key, Howe waited behind him, a small smile tugging at her lips.
She had continued to work for him at the sofa, overseeing the reports. It was less eventful compared to earlier, but the way he exchanged occasional glances at her as they worked told Howe that things were different…
The knob clicked shut.
“Alright, that’s day two finished.” The Commander turned to her. “Good job, Howe.”
She nodded. “Thank you, Commander. It was my pleasure.”
“Listen, I’m sorry about Akagi earlier,” he scratched his head. “She’s not really the type to let things pass. I didn’t really want to have involved you, but it needed to happen. I hope you didn’t take it personally.”
Howe shook her head. “Oh, not at all. I do understand that people have different temperaments. It’s just that… I wish our fight didn’t have to have happened…”
“Well, if she ever tries to fight you again, you know where to find me and Lady Amagi.” He tapped her shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”
Howe’s eyes widened at his touch. She exhaled. “See you tomorrow.”
As their steps grew distant from one another, Howe’s gaze remained on the floor. The way he had smiled earlier lingered in her thoughts…
See you tomorrow.