Murakumo (is) special #2

Murakumo wrote a few down a few more ingredients she would need for the dumplings down in her silver trimmed notebook. She glances over at Fubuki, sitting at her own wooden desk, head bobbing slowly as she listens to something on her headphones. Murakumo slides her own notebook into the desk's drawer and strides over to the back of Fubuki's chair, pantyhose footsteps silent over the dorm's carpet. Murakumo places her hand gently on Fubuki's shoulder, she doesn't jump, but there's a brief tensing of muscles. Fubuki slides down her headphones before flipping another page of the manga she's reading.  Murakumo centers herself behind her sister, hands on both shoulders.

“I saw you out practicing the other day. You're healed enough to sail like that?” She starts.

“Hnn,” A bored sounded  Fubuki replies, “It's not like I really did anything that day.  More like stood around like a crippled cheerleader. And watch Admiral Settle throw himself into the bay... Didn't really understand that part.”

Murakumo rolls her eyes at the mention of the American. “Well, it's good to see you take initiative anyway. A lot of people have high expectations for you.” That was a lie. The only one who took any vested interest in Fubuki was Murakumo herself. A noncommittal mumble is Fubuki's response. “I'd keep away from the yankees if I were you. They aren't very good role models.” Murakumo adds.

“Why's that? They actually won, remember?” Fubuki counters.

“...Are you kidding me?” Murakumo raises her voice, while Fubuki sighs, knowing a situation like this was inevitable. “The idiots here couldn't win a game of shogi let alone a war.  They make the Kongou sisters look like well adjusted members of society! And....And!” Murakumo stands silently for a moment and balls up her hands into fists. “And that stupid Admiral is weird as hell!” Murakumo yells out even louder.  “He was going around kissing guys! That's not normal, ok!?”  Murakumo's in-explainable floating options are casting a red light onto Fubuki's back, matching the intensity of her voice.

Fubuki lets go of her book, letting it fall closed onto the desk. “Why are you pretending to care about me? You're always finding something new to yell at me about every day.“

Replies jumble up in Murakumo's throat as she tries to choke down a barrage of particularly harsh insults. “You idiot! If I didn't care why would I even bother talking to you!”

Fubuki replies calmly. “You never volunteer to help me out. Too busy with your shadow cabal running the world or something.” She doesn't even wait for a response, putting back in her earphones and flipping through the pages of her book to where she left off.

“I can't believe...” Murakumo spins around and takes a deep breath. What Fubuki said did remind her of something. She did have a meeting soon. Might as well get there early, Murakumo thought. She exits the room and shuts the door with an almost-but-not-quite slam.

The Fubuki sister's door opens again. Fubuki leans over to check at what opened the door, an unimpressed look on her face.

“I forgot my shoes.”

- - -
Murakumo had to go through the the second floor common room, to meet at the usual place up on the third floor.  Despite hearing sounds of occupancy, the room wasn't quite lit up properly.  The usual overhead florescent lights were turned off, the only things providing light were a few green shaded bankers lights propped up onto the 'bar' counter and the faint glow from the tv in the corner of the room.  'Where the hell did those lamps even come from,' thought Murakumo. There's some music being played, but it's not coming from the TV. One of the destroyer girls, Maikaze, is playing a guitar
from one of the bar stools; the strings of an introduction. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aWrzhWnzhAs]

Murakumo silently moves over toward the end corner of the bar to get a better view of  the 'bartender' Hayashimo pour some amber liquid from one container into a smaller glass. Quite an impressive height, thought Murakumo.  Hayashimo elegantly flips out a paper napkin out in front of one of the other 'patrons' at the bar before almost dropping the liquid filled glass on top of it. Ryuujou eyes the glass before swirling it around a bit, but she just ends up placing it back down on the impromptu coaster.

“Well, what is it?” Ryuujou asks the expectant looking Hayashimo, who just brings a hand to cover up her one un-obscured eye.
“Ugh, You're supposed to ask that after you've finished it, or at least had half of it. You don't know anything.” A dejected Hayashimo replies. Murakumo hears the doors to the common room open up and a pair of footsteps coming in.

 [♪ There's a boat on the reef with a broken back ♪]

“It's an Iced tea,” Hayashimo says.
“I know for certain that ain't no iced tea. For one there's no tea bag.” Ryuujou retorts, leaning back as far as one can lean back in a stool without falling off, or looking like an idiot.
“Oh, Iced tea?” A new voice calls out. “I could use a nice cool drink right now.”
“Ise, I don't think that...” Hyuuga's warning goes unheeded as her sister grabs the glass of liquor off the counter and starts to down it. Ise's eyes bulge out a little after the first gulp, but it seems to do little to stop her thirst as she empties the tall glass. Not even the ice cubes were spared.

[♪ It's quite peculiar in a funny sort of way ♪]

Ryuujou is leaning her elbow against the bar, head propped up in hand. “Your sister is a real dumbass.” she says.
“Whew, Hey!” Ise calls out after wiping some perspiration off her face. “Don't say things like that about Hyuuga. She's just a little slow.” Murakumo turns her head towards Hyuuga, whose uncharacteristic silence betrays her confusion or perhaps disappointment. She offers the slightest of shrugs at Ryuujou before taking a stool next to her.   Ise has made her way over to the tv couch and is sprawled over on top of it. Murakumo takes a peek behind the bar, an action she immediately regrets.
“There's no way they let you buy that much alcohol.” Murakumo says accusingly. Hayashimo doesn't make eye contact, instead awkwardly straightening out her dress.
“I had help.” Is her only response.

[ ♪ We'll come again next Thursday afternoon ♪ ]

“I'll have whatever Ise had,” Hyuuga says, interrupting the staredown Murakumo was giving. Glad to be given a distraction, Hayashimo moves with precise efficiency while making Hyuuga's order.
“I'm gonna go smoke. I want somethin' ready when I get back.” Ryuujou says as she hops off the stool and heads towards the exit.
“That stuff is no good for you!” Hyuuga calls out. It doesn't stop Ryuujou, who just waves her hand in a dismissive circle.

I'm done here, thought Murakumo.

- - -


After a few knocks, a shorter pink haired girl opens the door, her braid blowing slightly as cool air rushes out from the room. She turns her head back into the dimly lit room “It's Murakumo!” She all but yells. Murakumo doesn't wait for an invitation and steps around Nenohi into Hatsuharu's room.  It's said that you can tell a lot about a person from how their room is decorated; Hatsuharu's (and Nenohi's) room is no exception. To start off with, their room is one of two suites of the dorm building, making it about 1 and a half times bigger than the other rooms. Hatsuharu had argued for the room by claiming it would serve as the destroyer class meeting room, a fact that very few even knew about.   Kongou was sadden by the decision, although all she had to say about it was: “It just means I'll be closer to my sisters desu!”

The room was divided left and right vertically, from the perspective of the entrance.  On the right entrance side the floor was covered by tatami mats, and the walls painted to look like traditional rice paper wall. On that side of the room was a low table surrounded by cushions, where Isokaze and Hatsuharu currently sat, and very authentic looking Tansu chests. The room is divided by colorful folding screens decorated by mountains and lush forests. On the other side of the room is a queen sized bed, a tv and couple of beanbag chairs (one lavender and one pink) where Nenohi sat after letting Murakumo in. Murakumo herself take a seat on an empty cushion to join the others at the table, the usual meeting spot. Murakumo looks upwards, noticing that the standard ceiling light fixture had been removed, with strategically placed paper lanterns hung up from the ceiling instead.

“They're quite appealing, aren't they?” Hatsuharu says, interrupting Murakumo's gaze. “They can even do this.” Hatsuharu pulls a small remote from beneath the table and presses it, which causes the light emitted by the lanterns to change color, bathing the room in hues of blue.

“Is this the submarine mode?” Isokaze asks.  Neither Murakumo or Hatsuharu payed much attention to that comment, as Isokaze was prone to occasional nonsensical outbursts.

“Shall we begin?” Hatsuharu asks.

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOpHT6gZ0Rs]

“Yes, of course, without delay. Our first subject. Shigure,” Isokaze pauses here a moment, to wait for any objections or input before continuing. “We've talked about her briefly last session. I wanted to know if either of you have gathered anymore information about how the situation started.”

“Well...” Murakumo starts off. “Everything I've heard seems to wary widely, and there's been no official statement put out.”

Hatsuharu nods in agreement. “Each story seems to be more grandiose than the last.  It is possible one of them is the truth, but following this line of investigation will be a momentous task.”

“Is there nothing that ties the stories together?”

“Kitakami got mentioned a few times.” Murakumo puts forth. “That's hardly surprising though.”
Isokaze has her eyes closed, deep in thought. “Hmm. We can keep that in mind for later, However I  do have a new tidbit of information. Naka has apparently been visiting Shigure in confinement.”

Hatsuharu flips open her hand fan, covering her mouth, a gesture preformed with precise practice. “We didn't realize that such torture was approved... to be used on our own forces no less.”

Murakumo rolls her eyes. “Some people would kill for a personal concert like that.”

“My, Murakumo, we didn't know you enjoyed such crass and simplistic entertainment.”

“I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT LIKING IT!” Murakumo yells out in her typical way.

“Jokes aside, the MP's did mention that Shigure's mood did seem to improve after the visits. Perhaps we should move our line of questioning over to her?” Isokaze suggests.

Murakumo lets out a snort “I wouldn't even bother. That idol is just as slippery as a greased up Iku. You would get more information from talking to the Zuiun sisters-”

“This is all fine, but I think we need to start looking elsewhere.” Isokaze interrupts. “Particularly, the future. We can't let this sort of thing happen again.” Isokaze takes a deep breath in. “Therefore, my proposal is this. Although we don't know the specifics of the event that pushed Shigure over the edge, I'm sure we were all aware of the typical treatment she was given.” Hatsuharu and Murakumo both find something interesting to look at on the ground. “She will join our group, regardless of her interest in it. We will be her shield, and her image will no doubt be elevated by our usual efforts. Do either of you have any objections to this?”

Hatsuharu drops her teacup onto her coaster with uncharacteristic loudness. The room suddenly becomes very quiet, and Murakumo could hear the noise from the game Nenohi was playing on the other side of the room.

[“Jack, Do you remember what day it is tomorrow?”  - “Nenohi Dayo!” ]

“Ridiculous.” Murakumo breaks the silence.

“Is it?” Hatsuharu asks. “There is logic behind that preposition.”

'That smug bitch', thought Murakumo. 'Of all the people to have a problem with it, it was definitely her, and now she's pushing it onto me. I won't fall for that.'

“I suppose we don't really have a choice, there aren't any other options.” Murakumo replies, cracking her knuckles. The color empties from Hatsuharu's face, who re-positions herself on her cushion and starts fanning herself a tad too fast to be called leisurely.

“A-Ah As you said. We don't have have any viable alternatives.  We will simply have to adapt.”

“It's settled then,” states Isokaze. “As soon as safety permits Shigure will be moving into my room.”
“Huuuh?” Murakumo and Hatsuharu blurt out simultaneously.

“The time for half-hearted measures is over.”

“I suppose...  But...”

“It makes sense. We believe that the current situation is partly the fault of Yuudachi. It's apparent that she has failed in her duty of supporting her sister ship, and moving Shigure back would be a disgrace to everyone involved.”

A disgrace. Murakumo's thoughts turned towards Fubuki. 'Am I failing as a sister ship?' She thought. Hatsuharu notices Murakumo's sullen expression and reaches out to grab one of her hands, an extremely rare show of  sympathy.

“Nobody blames you for Hatsuyuki... She is... Beyond all help.” Hatsuharu says, giving Murakumo's hand a squeeze.

“Oh. Thanks.” Murakumo delivers her response completely deadpan.

“Hmm... We're still making dumplings tomorrow, right?” Isokaze asks.

“Yes, I'm picking up what we need in the morning.”

“Good. We should get started on finalizing the field trip plans.”