Had Shinano popped out of the wardrobe at any other time, Ulyanovsk wouldn’t have paid her antics much mind.
Tying up a sleepy body and shoving it back through the portal at the first opportunity would have been a trivial matter—though her nine tails might have put up some resistance.
After that, he could have just gone about his day with a clear conscience.
Right now, however, a fresh nuclear fuel cocktail was boiling inside him, dulling his rational thinking and amplifying his emotions.
For the next three to five days, until the transitional processes in his reactors settled, the aviation cruiser was going to be running a little ‘hot,’ as Command liked to put it.
Because of this, the guy had absolutely zero patience left for a cheeky guest who clearly knew the cause of his recent furniture-related headaches but refused to spit it out simply because she felt ‘sleepy.’ “S-sto-o-op…” the Kansen groaned, though clearly not in pain, squirming on the bed in a futile attempt to dodge his hands.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
The fox girl was firmly fixed to the spot by the aircraft carrier sitting on her, whose hands were currently gripping two unnaturally large formations on her body.
‘I didn’t think they would be so soft and pleasant to the touch,’ thought Ulyanovsk, squeezing and releasing his hands and running his fingers through them.
“What were you saying about the portal?” “Nya-a-ah…” the girl moaned, her fingers digging into the bedspread.
“D-don’t…” Unsatisfied with the answer, he squeezed her right hand and pulled it away.
“So.
The portal,” he repeated.
The only response he got was more moaning and weak attempts to break free, accompanied by a feeble swat against his back from one of her tails.
“Why are you being so stubborn?” Ulyanovsk felt his temper flaring.
“You were perfectly capable of explaining things normally just a minute ago, but no…” “Kyah!” Shinano yelped as the guy hit a particularly sensitive spot.
The aviation cruiser practically hissed the rest of his sentence.
“So we’re going to squirm, twist, miraculously avoid slipping out of our clothes, and play dumb…” “M-my…
ears…” the girl whimpered, breathing heavily.
“They’re very sensitive…” Ulyanovsk plastered the most exaggerated look of surprise he could muster onto his face.
“Really?!
I hadn’t noticed at all!” the guy exclaimed with fake shock, vigorously rubbing the tips of the Kansen’s fox ears.
“Ple-e-ease stop…” she moaned again.
Measuring the insolent guest with a look of absolute disdain, Ulyanovsk let go of the poor ears.
His voice dropped to sub-zero temperatures.
“Talk.” Shinano stayed silent, trying to catch her breath.
Looking at her flushed face, parted wet lips, and hazy eyes, he briefly worried he had overdone it and should switch to more traditional interrogation methods.
But he quickly snapped out of it, remembering his previous, utterly failed attempts to wake the sleeping fox.
How anyone could sleep like a log while having their soul literally shaken out of them remained a profound mystery to him.
“Or else…” the guy let the threat hang.
“Or else?” Shinano echoed.
“I’ll satisfy my burning curiosity.” Ulyanovsk shot a pointed look behind him.
“And find out exactly where all nine of those tails grow from.” The nine silver appendages, previously splayed out across the entire bed, instantly snapped straight and froze.
In the blink of an eye, the girl squeezed her legs together and pulled them up, hiding them completely beneath her silver fur armor.
“No,” Shinano whispered, looking deeply offended.
Turning away from the furry barricade, Ulyanovsk gave her a questioning look that clearly said, ‘Who’s going to ask for your permission?’ “You know, you just reminded me of a theory some anime-obsessed swabbies liked to debate regarding kitsune,” he looked down at Shinano’s legs again.
“They definitely got the ears right…” Taking his hands off her face, the aviation cruiser straightened up and tried to read his prisoner’s expression.
But the girl seemed to be looking right through him with an unfocused gaze, completely unbothered by the guy sitting on her hips, his hands resting on his own knees in dangerously close proximity to her chest.
“Almost half a day has passed at your home base,” Ulyanovsk snapped his fingers in front of the Kansen’s nose to bring her back to reality.
“Has it really?” Shinano replied with a hint of genuine disappointment, finally focusing on his face.
“I must have misinterpreted the visions…” It took every ounce of willpower Ulyanovsk had not to bury his fist in her face.
The mere thought that he had wasted all this time engaging in highly questionable activities, chasing a false hope of getting rid of the Sword of Damocles hanging over his house, infuriated him even more than his current commanding officer.
“I ought to just hand you over to the Spooks,” Ulyanovsk sighed, feeling an unprecedented wave of exhaustion.
“Wait,” the girl said, her voice suddenly serious.
“The roads of dreams are multifaceted, and their tapestries can be interpreted in many ways.
But I am absolutely certain of the nature of the gates.” “Keep going,” Ulyanovsk rested his hands back on his knees, looking at the kitsune in a new light.
She seemed like a completely different person now.
“You open the gates yourself.
Subconsciously.
They likely react to your deepest subconscious desires.
And the remains of your defeated enemies acted as the catalyst to awaken it…” “Two things,” the aviation cruiser cut her off.
“Even accounting for all the conspiracy theories on the internet regarding the origins of the Shipgirls, interdimensional portals are a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?” “The Sirens possess the technology required for it, though they would never allow it to fall into human hands.
Yet, the mere ability to instantaneously transport across vast distances doesn’t surprise you.
Why?” “There are individuals among the Abyssals capable of that, even if few know about it.
But given their ‘love’ for humanity, I doubt they’d use a portal to your world, especially since your Shipgirls go catatonic at the mere sight of a grunt destroyer.
It’d be easy prey, and despite what people think, Himes aren’t idiots.
Second, where is the connection between you and my ‘subconscious desires,’ assuming they actually play a role in opening the portal?” “I saw you experiencing strong emotional outbursts and a deep hunger, so I assumed…” Shinano looked away, embarrassed.
“You know, that’s actually pretty insulting,” Ulyanovsk gave her a reproachful look.
“You can’t judge an entire demographic based on a few degenerates.” “It’s not that,” the girl shook her head.
“The dream-moths revealed that a strong emotional imprint would allow the gates to open again.” “And this entire circus was just for an ’emotional imprint’?” The guy used air quotes.
“Mhm,” the Kansen nodded.
“Assuming that’s true, what do you get out of this?” The girl avoided his gaze so diligently that Ulyanovsk couldn’t take it anymore.
He grabbed her cheeks again and forced her to look at him.
“I dislike it when Akagi issues orders in Nagato’s stead,” she answered quietly, trying to avoid his eyes.
“You know, your attempts to escape would make a lot more sense if one hour over there equaled three here, not the other way around.” “Even this is enough to find some respite from the constant nagging and errands,” Shinano grimaced.
“And how exactly did you plan to get back?” He pointed at the wardrobe.
“Considering who you are and what you represent, they’re probably flipping every stone on the base in a massive panic trying to find you.” “I will return when the time comes,” the Kansen replied evasively.
“You need to be smoked on the parade deck,” Ulyanovsk shook his head.
Looking at her fox ears, he added: “Or put on a leash.
Pity that wouldn’t work…” Sighing, he climbed off Shinano and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the cursed wardrobe.
The boiling fuel cocktail in his system was making it very hard to piece together the information and compare it with the established facts.
But even if he took her word as gospel, the portal’s choice of guests—excluding Formidable—remained baffling.
And as if deciding to throw even more chaos into Ulyanovsk’s thoughts, Shinano kept staring at the ceiling and added: “Also…
the moths spoke of a man who perished while trying to peer beyond the veil of the unconscious, drowning in fire and explosions on the shores of a freshwater sea…” “A lot of good that does me, considering he joined his ancestors a long time ago,” the guy replied grimly.
“I felt it was important,” Shinano said, turning to face him.
“And…
it is time for me to go home…” “I would’ve kicked you out hours ago,” Ulyanovsk stood up and walked over to the wardrobe.
“But there’s one tiny problem standing between my desire and reality.” Throwing the doors wide open, he showed the girl the interior.
The coat rack fashioned from a wooden mop handle eloquently declared that there were zero interdimensional portals inside.
“Any questions?” he asked Shinano, dramatically slamming the wardrobe shut.
“What was that about subconscious desires again?” “Perhaps,” she smiled, “you aren’t thinking about loneliness at all?” “Even if that’s true, what does that have to do with girls wearing outfits that belong in a bedroom, rather than in combat or everyday life?” Ulyanovsk gestured to the girl.
“I haven’t gone feral enough for my nature as a warship to take a backseat.” Still, there was a kernel of truth in her words.
More than once during his solo raids into hostile waters, Ulyanovsk had caught himself thinking that he wouldn’t mind a wingman.
Operating under strict radio silence or hiding beneath the Abyssal fog, it was just him and the ocean.
Being able to exchange a few words with someone wouldn’t hurt.
Not to mention the tactical advantage of having a second sonar or radar suite.
Those maddening Abyssal whispers usually started creeping in around week three.
“It is uncomfortable to wear other clothes…” the girl distracted him from his grim thoughts.
Rolling onto her stomach, the Kansen stretched like a cat—which looked slightly unnatural for her but incredibly vulgar.
Finishing her stretch, she sat up on her knees, facing the guy, and patted the bedspread in front of her.
“Please, come closer,” Shinano requested.
“Why?” “I will help you find the path,” she answered.
“The path that brought me here led from Taihou’s chambers.
You haven’t met her yet.” “You know…” Ulyanovsk ran through everything he knew about the mentioned aircraft carrier and the other Kansen counterparts he had encountered.
It sounded incredibly tempting.
The light cruiser Sirius might have morphed into a clumsy maid who hid a broadsword in her bra, but Formidable had been vastly more rational, at least based on what he had seen.
Shinano was known as an inexperienced but diligent Kanmusu, a stark contrast to the lazy Kansen from the other world sitting in front of him.
Taihou, according to his files, was an intelligent, dedicated girl and a highly capable Kanmusu.
While the aviation cruiser didn’t have enough data to make a definitive conclusion, the carriers from the other world clearly outclassed his local equivalents.
“I think we’d find a lot of common ground,” Ulyanovsk finished his thought.
“If you truly believe that…” Shinano shifted awkwardly, looking away.
“Sit down.” “Going to work your voodoo magic again?” the guy approached the bed.
“I am simply going to try to peer into the future,” the girl tilted her head, answering.
“What do you mean?” “Basically the same thing,” Ulyanovsk waved it off, having no desire to explain Russian slang.
“You think it’ll help?” “Perhaps,” the girl said with a mysterious smile, rising slightly.
“It all depends on you,” she whispered, placing her hands on the guy’s shoulders.
“Try not to move…” she added a quick warning.
Without any further heads-up, she leaned up, pressing her forehead softly against his.
Instantly, a swarm of moths burning with azure flames began swirling around the two carriers.
In their chaotic dance, the room began to dissolve, as if they were falling into a pitch-black void centered around a whirlpool of shifting blue hues.
The guy and the levitating girl hung suspended in the center of it, right up until a flash of blue light blinded Ulyanovsk.
When his vision cleared, he found himself standing on the metal flight deck of an aircraft carrier.
Although Shinano was still hovering right in front of him, blocking most of his view, he managed to catch a few details of the ship.
Toward the stern, blue flames erupted, shaping themselves into an aircraft as they hurtled toward the bow, launching with a heavy roar into a heavily overcast sky.
Another ball of flame immediately followed suit.
The ship itself was plowing through a violent storm, returning fire at something unseen.
Trying to turn his head, Ulyanovsk felt the girl tighten her grip on his shoulders, hissing a warning.
But he had already caught a glimpse of a massive, pitch-black shadow on the horizon, resembling the nine-tailed fox of Japanese myth.
[image here] Except it wasn’t a divine beast.
It was a monster whose very appearance screamed wrongness.
Instead of fur, it was clad in black, blue-shifting chitinous armor that bled crimson light from its seams.
Thick red smoke poured from a maw lined with razor-sharp teeth capable of snapping a battleship in half.
Its eyes, burning with hellish orange fire, glared with absolute hatred at the armada of warships raining a hurricane of shells down upon it.
With a single, devastating sweep of its clawed paw, the monster sent a cruiser squadron and a dozen destroyers straight to the bottom.
The guy could only applaud the suicidal bravery of the crews engaging a Demon-symbiote of that size.
The aura it projected left no doubts about the creature’s nature, yet something about it felt disturbingly familiar—as if a tiny piece of his own soul was resonating with the behemoth.
Shinano began whispering frantically, her grip on his shoulders turning painful.
Out of the rapid stream of words pouring from her lips, Ulyanovsk could only make out “charred blades” and “ceremony” before another flash of blue light blinded him.
When his vision returned, a manicured park rustled with greenery around him.
A paved path snaked through the lush foliage, lined with benches sitting in the shade of sprawling trees.
On one of those benches, two girls were napping.
One was an exact copy of Shinano.
She was sleeping with her head resting on the shoulder of a brunette in a black-and-red kimono, who was quietly reading a book with a soft smile on her face.
The fox ears on the sleeping girl twitched, and she looked up, her gaze locking directly onto the two carriers pressing their foreheads together.
“And it descended from the heavens, like a flash of lightning, and awakened the sleeper.
And the wings of those who followed him faded…” Ulyanovsk managed to hear, just before the light flashed a third time.
Now, he found himself in a spacious room of a traditional Japanese house.
Shinano gently lowered her legs, and the moment her bare feet touched the tatami mats, she pulled back from the guy.
However, she showed no signs of releasing her iron—and increasingly uncomfortable—grip on his shoulders.
“This is merely an illusion, a reflection of reality…” the girl said softly, while the guy openly examined his surroundings.
The decor was surprisingly modest, assuming it actually belonged to the Kansen standing next to him.
A futon lay unmade on the floor, bearing a distinct, human-shaped indentation.
The only real furniture was a solitary stand holding three massive, two-meter-long odachi swords in gray scabbards.
A fourth sword lay on the floor nearby, distinguished by its bright red scabbard and a white dragon motif near the guard.
“…Of my world,” she added, nodding toward the door that opened into an inner courtyard.
Looking outside, past a towering torii gate made of red wood, Ulyanovsk saw a fleet anchored in the roadstead.
Among the numerous vessels, he easily picked out an aircraft carrier with a highly distinctive hull profile.
“Wait, how does that work?” he turned to Shinano.
“You’re here, and simultaneously…
out there.” “I am scheduled for routine maintenance in the drydock,” the girl explained.
“That’s not what I mean.
Sirius told me that you Kansen can summon your full-sized historical counterparts.
I just have one question: how?” “Can you not do the same?” the Kansen asked, tilting her head and looking the guy up and down.
“You are just like us…” “I don’t recall any prodigies among Kanmusu managing to summon their actual hulls,” Ulyanovsk shook his head.
“Plus, there’s no need.
It’s an unjustifiable risk.” “You only need to look deep within yourself,” Shinano finally let him go.
“But does that really matter right now?” With those words, she took the guy’s hand and led him to the wall where the sword stand rested.
Hidden behind it was a built-in closet.
Sliding the shoji door aside, Ulyanovsk was greeted not by an interdimensional portal, but by a familiar wooden coat rack instead of a collection of women’s clothes.
Gently pushing on the back panel, Shinano dragged him through.
“What’s the point of this whole masquerade if you can just walk through the portal yourself?” he asked, finding himself back in his own bedroom.
“It is an illusion,” Shinano turned to face him.
“A vision, so that you would know,” she explained, placing her hands back on his shoulders.
“What the world looks like on the other side.” But instead of trying to headbutt the guy again, the Kansen wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug.
“This way, you won’t get lost on the paths of dreams,” she whispered, resting her head on the Soviet aviation cruiser’s shoulder.
He was officially tired of the girl speaking in riddles.
As the space around them began shattering into thousands of glowing blue moths, returning them to reality, Ulyanovsk simply pretended to hug the Kansen back.
In reality, he fully intended to make good on his earlier threat regarding her tails.
Running his palms down Shinano’s back, he expected to hit the roots of nine furry appendages, but his hands slid lower without encountering any resistance.
Instead of soft fur, Ulyanovsk felt pleasant firmness beneath the velvet fabric of the kimono.
“So, not only can you summon a battleship hull, but you can also hide your tails?” The guy looked down at where his hands had stopped.
“Mhm,” Shinano nodded, rising on her tiptoes as if trying to lift herself higher to grant easier access to her aft section.
“Convenient,” he sighed, looking over his shoulder.
“I take it we’re back in reality?” Ulyanovsk asked, spotting the closed wardrobe.
The girl nodded silently.
Listening to her steady, rhythmic breathing, Ulyanovsk counted to ten, then delivered a sharp—not painful, but loud—smack to her backside.
Caught completely off guard, Shinano practically jumped into the aviation cruiser’s arms, looking behind her in panic.
“There you are,” the guy instantly grabbed one of the tails that popped out of nowhere, doing his best not to buckle under the weight of a fleet carrier with an armored flight deck suddenly hanging off his neck.
“Let go!” the girl squeaked tightly, as if afraid to make any sudden movements.
“You know, Formidable got off incredibly lucky.
When she lost her mind from the repair gel, my mind was perfectly clear,” Ulyanovsk smirked.
The guy had to appreciate the quality of the fox-girl’s tails; the fur was incredibly thick and soft.
It would be a crime to turn it into a hat or a collar, but it worked perfectly as a stress-relief petting tool.
“She was lucky,” he added.
“You, on the other hand, are not…” “You wouldn’t have done anything,” Shinano pulled back, looking into the guy’s eyes with a gentle smile.
“Are you sure?” “I saw it,” the girl said softly.
“You are concerned with matters far beyond base human desires.
That is why I am here.” She slipped out of his embrace and took a step back.
“That’s a very bold statement, especially considering,” Ulyanovsk tapped his temple.
“There’s absolute chaos going on in here right now.” “Not there,” Shinano shook her head.
“Here,” she said, placing a hand over the guy’s heart.
Instantly, a spark ignited deep within her eyes.
“But the storm in your heart is nothing compared to the ones that are coming.
However, you will meet it alongside the red titan, who shall take up the black mirror.
And the spear from your hands shall be taken by the bird.” “I’d appreciate some specifics.” “No,” the girl’s eyes returned to normal, and she stuck her tongue out at Ulyanovsk.
“It is too far away.
I cannot see clearly.” “Charlatan,” the guy sighed in disappointment.
“Time will be the judge,” Shinano smiled warmly again, taking his hand and pulling him toward her.
Ulyanovsk braced himself for another voodoo session, but instead, he tumbled onto the bed right behind the Japanese carrier, his face burying directly into the girl’s chest.
Trying to push himself up, he only managed to get Shinano to roll him over, wrapping her tails around him to form a makeshift cocoon.
“Just rest,” she said softly, answering the guy’s questioning glare.
To his absolute shock, the embrace genuinely had a calming effect.
His previous anxieties faded into the background, and even the quiet melody the Kansen hummed began to resonate with the erratic humming of Ulyanovsk’s four nuclear hearts.
The reactors, which had been wildly out of sync following the refueling, began to synchronize their beats.
A process that was supposed to take several days began accelerating rapidly, prompting the aviation cruiser to hold off on neutralizing the overly touchy fox.
*** The next morning, Formidable wasn’t woken by a polite knock, but by a crash that nearly tore the door off its hinges.
“My lady, are you alright?!” Trying to banish the fog of sleep, the proud subject of Her Majesty rubbed her eyes and glared at the intruder who had so unceremoniously interrupted her rest.
“What is the meaning of this, Belfast?” Formidable asked through a yawn.
“That is exactly what I wanted to ask you,” the Head Maid replied worriedly, rushing to the Kansen’s bed and throwing the blanket aside.
She couldn’t hold back a gasp of pure shock.
There wasn’t a single trace of the injuries sustained during the Manjuu riot.
Nor were there any marks on the actual aircraft carrier sitting in drydock, a ship that hadn’t boasted such flawless paint or smooth armor plating even on her best days.
“I will ask you again, Belfast,” Formidable pushed the maid’s hand away.
“What is the meaning of this?” “Last night, the Manjuu brigade conducting repairs on your hull was forced to execute an emergency evacuation from their stations,” Belfast explained.
“Three of them were barely pulled out in time before the regenerating armor plating crushed them between the bulkheads.” “Don’t even try,” a voice called out from the doorway.
“Foreman-123 getting his tail feathers pinched isn’t her fault…” Leaning against the doorframe stood Neptune, sporting a sly smirk as she watched the still-sleepy Kansen.
“Not even the Sirens can regenerate their bots that fast,” she continued, answering the Head Maid’s questioning look.
“But Her Majesty hasn’t received any reports regarding spatial anomalies for quite some time…” Winking at Formidable, the blue-haired waitress made a great show of casually inspecting the blade of her halberd.
“I highly doubt there’s a method to repair ships that quickly on the other side,” Belfast shook her head.
“My lady, are you absolutely certain you are alright?” she asked, noticing Formidable turning beet red.
“Get out,” Formidable whispered.
“Oh, it seems I hit the bullseye,” Neptune grinned.
“GET OUT!” the aircraft carrier shrieked.
A second later, the Head Maid and the waitress found themselves standing in the hallway, the door having slammed shut right in their faces.
Judging by the sounds coming from inside, Formidable was actively barricading it with heavy furniture.
“Does she really think that will stop us?” Neptune nodded toward the door.
“I must report this to Her Majesty,” Belfast spun on her heels, hurrying away from the carrier’s quarters.
“Always reporting and snitching on everyone,” the blue-haired Kansen snorted quietly, watching her colleague leave.
“Tea for this, reports for that…
Well, at least it’s not Cheshire…” Looking at the door, she executed a lightning-fast, practically invisible strike with her halberd, punching a clean hole through the wood.
She peeked inside.
Just in time to see Formidable, red as the Prince of Wales’s tunic, wrapping herself tightly in her blanket, repeatedly muttering about how incredibly embarrassed she was.
“What in the world did you do…” Neptune whispered, jumping back just in time to dodge a nail file that came flying through the peephole like a throwing knife.
“I SAID GET OUT!” Formidable screamed, her voice cracking.