I’m back! I know I’ve been quite quiet over the past.., few weeks but I’ve also been writing another story. The story of the largest battleship ever, the IJN Yamato. It’s a long ass story but it’s worth it. Trust me it’s good. In other events Black Ops III is out (got to try it, there’s a WWII simulation map and it’s a Tiger II GALORE <3<3<3), Halo 5 (I heard it was a let down 4 and 1/2 hour campaign) and so is Fallout 4 (which I’m sure the lot of you are playing and won’t see the light of day for a few weeks) and soon my personal favorite, Battlefront III (sticking to the classic count) is arriving. Anyway enjoy all!
Hisashi climbed down the ladder to the roof of the conning tower bridge. He stood back and bowed.
“Good morning Yamato.”
“Good morning Hisashi.” Her voice was elegant, beautiful; it captured her poetic namesake of Japan and all its beauty. Hisashi erected himself and looked up to the bridge where her brown eyes looked back to his, the tall and menacing tower of metal and man was an impressive sight no matter where you saw it, but only up close can one see a decade of war taking its toll on the mighty symbol. Her armored plates had sign of weathering, her eyes heavy with sleepless, bomber filled nights, her magnificent voice uttered by a slow moving pair of lips tired of trembling in fear of fire bombs, and at worse sight a usually unmotivated crew. The crew is very inexperienced, only two combat missions during the whole war, and only once did Yamato use her guns. The crew had come up with a list of the most useless things in the world: The Great Wall of China, The Great Pyramids, and Yamato, and she didn’t challenge the list, either. She’s a mighty vessel, largest and heaviest in the globe. 79,808 tons of metal machine and all it’s done to contribute to the Emperor’s war is sail as a show ship almost. She confides in Hisashi and him alone her troubles, feeling of worthlessness, desire to fight, alienation from her fellow fleet ships, and her feelings of dishonor. But this morning on her newest voyage she had a hopeful fire in her eyes. “We’re going to Okinawa, Hisashi; we’re going to the front. No carriers. I’m the fighter now.”
“That’s great, Yamato, that’s great. Finally we will fight for the Emperor! Fight and beat the Americans off our homes!” He was more excited than she was. “And then we will return victorious!”
“Hisashi, don’t tell anyone this but,”
“What is it, Yamato?”
“It’s only a one way trip.” His heart sank. No returning, no glorious arrival, this is a fight to the death mission. “We’re going to beach on the Okinawa beach and halt any attempts to land until we run dry.”
“So be it.” Their voices were tense and low; they had dreamed of after the war, together as a part of the mightiest navy ever, they’ll now never see the day. Whenever they’d previously sit together they’d plan out how they’d engage the Imperialist Americans, dream about ravaging their puny ships and how they’d triumph over them, and steam into the San Francisco Bay Glorious in battle triumph.
“We don’t have much time left, Hisashi. I’d like to live as full a life as possible.” Her tone had dropped even lower. One day she told him of a lovely dream she had with a husband and a child, it was vague and she barely remembers it all but for that whole month she was obsessed by it, dreaming, thinking, talking, and sharing it with Hisashi alone. Often he’d ask why she only talked to him on such matters, the commander was much wiser than he was, but she never got around to confiding to the commander. She would talk to everyone and follow orders from the bridge but she never got personal with anyone but Hisashi. Still, he didn’t mind.
“A taste of the sushi, perhaps?” He knew she had always wanted to eat sushi. He got up from his folded seat and moved towards the ladder.
“It wouldn’t be refused.” She said with a smile, but that wasn’t what she wanted to say. “Hisashi, do you ever feel compassionate around me?” He stopped on the ladder. He folded his arm through the rungs to hold himself as he thought.
“I wouldn’t deny the rumors.” For a few years there has been a rumor that Yamato and he were planning to marry. Yamato heard it and passed it to Hisashi, but neither confronted anyone about it. They let it be a story that excited the crew on this long dull post. Yamato didn’t share the other rumor that the crew thought of; the long and loud creaks and groans of her hull at night were love-making between them. That rumor was false entirely, she shifted around at night just to move, any movement felt like a million miles to her, and she loved moving in her tight dock slip. She looked down at Hisashi into his eyes and waited for him to continue. He didn’t so she took the lead.
“At your heart would you agree? Truly agree at your heart?” This made Hisashi stop and think. He grew tired and slid down the ladder he thought that long; searching his feelings and after a time he found his answer.
“Yes.” Yamato fought hard to hold back a smile but it showed anyways, Hisashi saw and couldn’t help but smile back. Her teeth were impressive but not overwhelming; everything about her was representing the beauty of Japan: her teeth were straight and nice with a white polish. Most other battleships have shark teeth or simple razor fold teeth for a fear and intimidation factor but not Yamato; she had her eighteen inch guns for that. Rarely did Hisashi see her teeth so it was like a shining star to him. She noticed that she made him smile and blushed a darker gray than her base coat.
That night she slept quietly and soundly for the first time since American bombers flew over Japan regularly. She dreamed of a strange turn of events where once she arrives at Okinawa the Americans pull back, and form a treaty with Japan to cease the bloodshed of their people. The Emperor agrees to this and the fighting stops. She is then refueled and moved back to Japan and from there they tour the Pacific, all the while figuring out how Hisashi and her would marry. They run into the fabled American battleship Iowa, the Iowa tries to smooth talk her but doesn’t get through to her. Later Hisashi takes her hand in marriage and she bears beautiful children, then her dream was interrupted by the Commander.
“Yamato, Okinawa reports an increase in carrier activity. Ready for an arial attack close to Okinawa.” He noticed her confirmation wasn’t normal. “Everything alright, Yamato?”
“Yes senpai, well, no senpai.” He asked for her to elaborate. “I wish for a fuller life, senpai, to love and birth and raise children.” The commander nodded. He suspected she’d be going through rough emotions since hearing about her sentencing.
“Do what you see fit for fulfilling that. I know I wish I could see my wife one more time.” With that she figured she’d hurry her relations with Hisashi up to the sex and possibly pregnancy. If she could beach herself maybe the Americans wouldn’t scrap a pregnant and ammo-less ship, and spare her Hisashi as well. She realized that the Americans would show no mercy to her, none. By then she would have sunk many ships and killed thousands of Americans, she is doomed no matter what. Tears began to roll from her eyes; she began to quiver in fear. The largest and mightiest ship in the world is crying and quivering in fear.
She felt Hisashi stir, they had a unique feeling of each other, and they knew each other’s feelings like their own. Even now in the midst of his night’s sleep he felt her distraught emotions. He arose from his cot and dressed himself in the dark before making his way up the superstructure. The bridge commander stopped him and brought him close to whisper in his ear. Do whatever she wants. Hisashi replied, I always intend too, sir. Then he climbed another ladder up a deck and opened the access door to slide down the ladder to the conning bridge roof and bowed.
“Yamato, what’s wrong?” He asked as he sat down.
“I never did anything with my life! I-I-I wish I could do more, to marry, to birth, to love!” She was about to break down again when Hisashi let his heart flow.
“I love you, Yamato, do you not love me?” It worked, she stopped tearing, she was silent, both of them knew the answer, she did love him. “Yamato there is not a single thing you listed that we cannot do tonight.” She smiled a little.
“Even the birth of our child?” She said questioning.
“We can start it.” She smiled more, slowly and armored panel beneath the ladder moved away and a large protruding hose-like object appeared looking like a vagina at its front.
“Please start, then.” Hisashi moved towards her vagina, unsure and curious of it. He leaned over and looked at its sides; pistons and hoses, hydraulics and piping covered it. It had gears and such all along it’s sides making it look very mechanical and easy to fix if something went wrong. It turned him on more than her vagina did. Her vagina was placed on a faceplate that looked like the bow without the protrusion; it gradually thinned into the lips of her beautiful vagina, like it was elegantly crafted by an artisan. “Are you alright, Hisashi?”
“Y-Yes, I’m fine, Yamato.”
“I’m ready.” He placed his index and middle fingers onto her lips at the top and felt how surprisingly soft she was, plush and smooth; he trailed his fingers down her slit softly. Her soft moans fueled his passion; he trailed his fingers up and down soft and slow until a little silver ball appeared at the top. He rubbed that softly, noting it was moist, and plunged his fingers into her hole to test her moisture levels. He eased his two fingers in and out pumping her and searching around for her good spot. He was breath taken by how soft she was, so plush, tender, and hot. “You’re making me so wet, Hisashi!”
“I’m ready.” He undid his pants and shirt, pulled out his fingers; they were dripping with hot silver lube, and placed his throbbing cock head against her eager lips.
“Yes, Hisashi! Yes Hisashi! Do it!” He followed her plea and fell on it; her moan signaled he’d gone deep. He felt her hot walls surround him, her slick inside welcome him, and her love embrace him and warm his insides. He hesitated to leave, still trying to figure out just what he was doing exactly, he pulled out to his head before thrusting into her again. Yamato was egging him to go faster, so he tried pleasing her and please her he did. Her eyes were mostly clenched shut or looking down to him, her mouth agape and moaning and grunting. Her whole hull and superstructure shook with every thrust.
On the bridge everyone could see Hisashi was doing a good job. Her windows used as eyes were blacked out and shut, her moans echoed softly inside, her shudders could be felt in anything they touched, and this was making the most of them a little ashamed and uncomfortable. They felt like they were trespassing. Only the commander and two of the elder men smiled. One young and curious sailor started to lean towards the window to peak but the commander swatted his shoulder and frowned at him. The sailor stood back shamed. The radio operator, one of the elders, tuned into what the Americans called “Ms. Tokyo” radio station and listened to her music and propaganda using the speakers on max setting to drown out Yamato.
“Oh Hisashi! Oh Hisashi! I never thought it’d be this good! Oooohh!” She wailed, Hisashi kept humping and humping, looking up to her face and watching her signs of gay enjoyment. He looked back down towards her vagina. Her lips wrapped around his cock and held on, not wanting to let go, and every time he pulled out a sheen of silver coated his cock to keep it warm in the cool air. “Oh, oh, oh YYEESS! Harder Hisashi! Love me more!” He complied, thrusting more powerfully and deeper into her. He looked down and watched as his thrusts pushed her vagina against his crotch and then coil back from its base like a cannon and then follow him out as he pulled out. He went hard and fast, watching himself penetrate her and push her vagina in. He listened to her gleeful cheers and rambles and felt amazing. Soon he felt her tightening on him, her moans becoming more rapid, and her temperature increasing. She snaked her arms around him and inside his remaining clothes, as she told him she felt it building. Then he felt himself rapidly building, but knew he couldn’t pull out, she wanted to feel it, and she needed to feel it. He started to moan, letting his body do its job without worrying about keeping it in anymore. Suddenly he couldn’t hold back, he pushed in as deep as he could and let go.
She cried aloud, “it’s so hot! So hot! It’s everywhere!” She felt it first inside her depths then it seemed that the whole pacific was Hisashi’s seamen, so hot and creamy; it made her feel hot all over and everywhere. Hisashi felt relieved, and Yamato’s great full cries made him feel even better, but she was still tight, still waiting her turn. And she was too good to only fuck once. He eased back out drawing a long moan from Yamato, she didn’t think he’d keep loving her but she was happily wrong. She wanted the most from this little time, she focused on what she felt and was not disappointed. She felt his skin, the slick shaft that rubbed her right, the cum still oozing from his cock. His hot seamen kept coming and coming, she never wanted it to end. Abruptly Hisashi pulled out to his head before dramatically stopping, causing Yamato to yelp in surprise.
“Ready for another?”
“Always!” He plunged back into her tightening pussy, pulling a moan from deep within her as her grip locked on him while her orgasm arose and couldn’t be held back anymore. He watched and felt her pussy throb around his cock, silver liquids pumped out of her vagina lips against his crotch. “I love you, Hisashi, I love you like the fish love their ocean.” She held him until the oozing stopped then allowed him to continue with the second run. It lasted longer than the first and was more intense as well, they built up together and at the same moment their cusps overwhelmed them and they came at once. They rested, still connected, for a good amount of time until Hisashi rolled off her to the side and leaned his back against her tower base. She wrapped around his body and dressed him again. “That was amazing, Hisashi. Surely that was enough to fertilize me.” He felt hot, sweaty, and perfect in her arms. She never wanted to let him go.
“I feel like we’ll never see the result, Yamato that makes me feel depressed.”
“I know. I know.” She thought of how her carrier sister ship sank; submarine. She thought that one day she might be risen from the depths, and rebuilt, and if they do have a baby inside her it will grow and come into a better world, with Hisashi as the father and herself as the mother. Only thing was: Hisashi will die. “Hisashi, there’s something I want to tell you.”
“I’ll always listen, my love.”
“I will sink, but I may still live on with the baby inside me on the bottom. We might even stay together; the German cruiser said that’s what their battleship did.”
“What? How?”
“She said that the battleship’s lover was transformed; I want to transform you.” He thought about her want. He was told to do anything she asked.
“Yes.” She comforted him, readied her injectors and placed them where it felt natural, and then she listened to his screams as she changed him. She finished up and held him tight, ordered for him a blanket and pillow to sleep with where he lay, in the fetal position, so she could hold him in her arms like they were married. Like they were married after this war and home in a harbor slip. And there they slept.
A few hours later they were awoken: the battle was imminent. The officers passed around sake, and told the crewman to drink, to ease the pain ahead. Usually when Hisashi drank he could get only a third threw the bottle before he was too drunk to think; he downed the bottle faster than he could a third earlier and barely felt any different. The rest of the crew wasn’t fairing the same. Later there were run-ins with the American planes, Yamato and an accompanying cruiser engaged repeatedly but to no avail. She was talking to Hisashi when she abruptly stopped and told him a report came in about a hundred and fifty aircraft heading their way. Then her face darkened, she felt them on radar. She wrapped around Hisashi for comfort, he tried his best to comfort her but they both knew that she was obsolete, air power took the seas. The aircraft turned towards them in an attack pattern, her crew fired all they could. Her 18 inch guns were loaded with the buzzbee anti-air flak shells and fired at the incoming planes. The tracers went everywhere, the drunken gunners sprayed everywhere, bombs went off everywhere, and torpedoes were all around her. She was struck a few times and listed to the sides; she clutched her Hisashi in her arms as her damage control pumps righted her. For two hours the American planes tormented her, strafed her decks, the gunfire tearing her crew limb from limb, half from half, flesh from bone, life, from existence. Men screamed everywhere; turrets were hit with bombs and exploded into the sky. Her escorts were diced up as well. They were bombed and torpedoed to the bottom, only fifty miles from Japan’s most southern point. She felt the end was near, the planes were getting closer and closer with each run, and much of her AA batteries were dead, disabled, in flames or all of the above. She lifted Hisashi, he was quivering in fear, and she looked him in the eye with her gorgeous eyes reminding him of Japan and asked him one last promise. “Hisashi!? I need you to promise me one more thing!” He knew what was coming, she thought about what she’s asking of him, tears began rolling down their faces. “Promise me, promise never to forget me!”
“I promise! I promise never to let you go! I’ll never leave you! Always with you!” They both leaned in; she brought him close to her lips. They kissed. A kiss is an unbreakable promise, something reserved for the closest of loved ones. And they meant everything about it then. She felt her side get rocked by a torpedo, felt the rush of warm Pacific water rush in, and keep coming, flooding her pump station and her halls. She knew she was sunk right then. She savored his lips’ taste. His warm flesh tainted with the salty air and his sweat. His tongue sat on top of her massive tongue, stroking each other for comfort. Hisashi felt her tense up, felt her fear. He took in her salty metal lips and tongue, her slick warm fluids flowed into his mouth, her tender love amongst her amass of war and hate. He felt her pain, the flooding; they shared every feeling they had. Suddenly the heat in the middle of her erupted. Her eyes shot open and her mouth went agape, Hisashi was dropped as her arms went limp and an explosion ripped her in half, Hisashi felt a part of himself be torn from the whole, then half of his essence felt empty. He plummeted to the raging seas below and was hit hard. He struggled to return to the surface where he fought to stay above water. He met with a small group of survivors and drifted with them. They were all heart broke, demoralized, and any hope of Japan’s survival sank with their ship. Some cried, cried like babies when they knew they dishonored their family, the Emperor, and most of all- Japan. Everything they lived for in their eyes abandoned them; they were the most worthless things in the universe in their eyes. Hisashi cried for his lost love on top of the dishonor, he felt her death. Not her disappearance, but her life leaving her hull when she was ripped by that explosion. They all watched the mushroom cloud standing over the ship dispatch after minutes of intimidation. They were soon picked up by Americans, triumphant in their slaying of the beast, celebratory in their victory. No Japanese sailor could bear to look at anything but the deck. No matter where they sailed Hisashi knew where she was, he felt her presence on the bottom.
When the two bombs dropped on their home soil and their country surrendered the crew of the Yamato, and every other sailor, pilot, or soldier, felt the shame of defeat on their shoulders. Depression settled among nearly every one of them. Once they were released most would return home to move on with their lives and rebuild their culture and homes. Not Hisashi. He moved to the most southern point of Japan, built himself a seaworthy fishing vessel, and every day of the weekdays he sailed out to his lover’s grave and sat. Sometimes he stayed overnight, waiting, waiting, waiting for some sign from his lover, from his long lost Yamato. He could drift anywhere overnight and he’d know his way back to her grave, just by their connection he knew where she was and how she was. He longed to be with her every hour. Years and years and years later he still went out; never missing a day he couldn’t miss for getting more gas, food, or money. Occasionally he’d go fish with the son of his neighbor named Takeo, they were like father and son, and whenever Takeo went home he felt like that was something he missed out on with Yamato. Nevertheless he remained faithful towards his lost love and never searched for romance, but that didn’t deter him from advising the youth about love. He was viewed as the wisest in the village, and would be asked for knowledge often. Few knew why he was the way he was; a 30 year old guy that’s wiser than the 60 year olds, when he was really in his hundreds by the time the research vessels came and moved him off Yamato’s grave.
“Sorry but we have Japanese authorization for this project.” The announcer spoke in English.
“How wong?” He asked in the stereotypical Japanese accent. He actually could speak English fluently.
“About two to three weeks.”
“Dat no good. I need dis spot fow fishing.” He always welcomed explorers and gave them space, as long as they shared what they saw with him. Even still two weeks minimum isn’t what he wants, alone time was still important. “I go as wong as you tewl me what down dare!”
“We’re here to resurrect the IJN Yamato.”
“I’m staying here then!” He instantly dropped the heavy mispronunciation accent. “You cannot stop me!”
“On what grounds?” He thought quickly.
“We’ll talk in secret; we’ll meet on your ship!”
“Negative, what is your relationship with the Yamato?”
He hesitated. “.., lover.” He was brought on as some con artist, living ships were made famous by the raising of the Titanic two years ago but nearly all records of Yamato were lost. He sat down in front of a (useless) translator and the Captain of the ship. He uttered two words.
“Say again?” Hisashi sighed. For nearly 76 years he kept this secret.
“Back in nineteen-forty-five the Yamato and I were very close..,” he explained his whole story with her, and then he told them his routine for the past 76 years. He even pointed to people who were on previous search parties for the Yamato remains and said the date their first search was. The men in the room were impressed. The Captain leaned over and asked for an electricity measuring device. Hisashi didn’t catch the whole name but knew it had to do with the electric current in metal that usually give life to them. He was granted permission to stay on board for the operation for his insight and knowledge of her interior. As he watched submarine footage of the eerie black turn to greenish orange rust he felt shivers.
“This is where that final torpedo hit.” He was told. Just then the sub’s ultralights kicked on and Hisashi saw a hole bigger than his fishing trawler, deeper than his trawler long, black as death itself. He was staring at what killed his Yamato, and he knew there was more to her death than that. They circled all around the upturned hull, investigating the multiple torpedo holes in her massive hull. They decided to put the shiny probe needles down right on her belly, one of the most sensitive regions of a ship, and tested the frequencies for any life. They tested for a charge sufficient enough to sustain life.
All failed.
Then they tried vocalizing their presence, even Hisashi piped up towards the end.
All failed.
“Again.”
Failure.
“Again.”
Failure.
“Again!”
Failure.
Every try failed. Yamato was dead. Some of the guys there pulled him back into his chair and patted his back. One of the more empathetic women massaged his shoulders. His whole hopes of finally talking to her again, ever, vanished in the blink of an eye. He cried like he did 72 years ago. After the tears started he got up and left, went to his trawler where he had a picture of Yamato’s broadside at the dock. He took that picture. He put it in his finest frame and made a little mural around it with a little book of his time without her. He held that frame to his chest and cried himself to sleep in the galley of his trawler.
They didn’t need him that day or the next to be honest; they explored and tested the outer of the hull for weak points and openings to fill. They knew that Yamato was too heavy for a barge or ship bus so they would need to really focus on the tear points to keep her buoyant for towing. The days after they used Hisashi’s guidance in navigating the interior. He wasn’t his helpful self, though, he helped but he didn’t actively help; trying for as minimal conversation as possible. It took even longer than they anticipated, run ins with unknown damage, furniture remains, and a few snagged RC sub bot cables for the most part, but after six weeks she was on her way to the surface. It took a grueling five hours to reach the surface, three more than Titanic simply because of weight and stability. Just before Yamato reached the brightest parts of the ocean the submarines carefully righted the hull. That was when Hisashi, sitting in the back of his little trawler with a camera, felt tears of joy run from his eyes as Yamato’s superstructure broke the waves and rose to the sky. He filmed the rising, and specifically zoomed on the holes that doomed her before taking an expansive shot of the whole scene. He put the camera away and looked at what time had done to his love. Her superstructure was mostly free of rust: being buried in the soft sand on the bottom while her hull looked like half shredded green cheese with rusticles all over her body. The guns were held in place as she sank to the bottom and only a few things were bent out of place. The antennas and wires and poles were swept away and the smokestack had taken serious damage. He followed her all the way back to the port that birthed her, and the same port that was to restore her. The Mitsubishi ship yards agreed to restore their lost child with help from the same team that coordinated the restoration of Titanic. Hisashi set up a tent outside of the yards where he had a clear view of the progress and remained there, watching the team toil away, for as long as he needed too.
Yamato’s eyes shot open, her mouth dropped and she screamed. She quickly regained herself and looked around, something was different. She didn’t feel any water, only chucks under her hull, she felt empty, entire sections of her insides were gone, her guns were working and stowed, and nobody was on board. Hisashi wasn’t in her arms, either. She teared up and looked down where she last saw him. He was standing there, clad in a rubber suit with thick rubber boots. He was smiling ear to ear. She’s never seen him smile like that. She instantly lashed out, wrapping her arms around him and pulled him up in between her eyes, both cried. She pinned him against her, never dreaming of letting go. Hisashi knew what she felt, he didn’t dream of letting go ever again, not in his past near eighty years has he ever dreamed of letting go of her. Soon after they were glued together gangways touched her hull again and men and women went back to work. It’s been three years since they first put her in the slipway for renovation, and they were nearly complete. Suddenly Yamato started asking questions.
“Hisashi what happened? How are we in the slipway? Why am I empty? Why was there nobody aboard?” He whispered all her answers to her.
“You blew up, you died. Your hull sank to the bottom.”
“How long was I dead?” She said in disbelief, it seemed mere moments ago she felt the torpedoes tearing into her.
“It was seventy-nine years ago. We lost the war. Japan wanted you back as a memorial so these people rose you up. They fixed you. You were gutted and your inside was changed for a more appealing look and to fit museum pieces. Nobody was aboard because we needed a massive electric discharge to bring you back to life.”
“Is that why you’re in that rubber suit?” She giggled as she stroked his rubber back.
He too chuckled and agreed. “Yes, yes. Yamato it’s been so long, I’ve missed you exponentially. You missed so much. I wrote it all down for you in a book I left on my trawler.”
“When did you get a trawler?”
“A month after the war, I used it to make a living and sit above you. Every day I went to your grave. Every day I waited for something. I would have given it all away to be with you again forever.” She gripped him tighter.
“Hisashi I’m sorry I left you.”
“That doesn’t matter now. Now, now we are together. Together without a war.”
“Now we can have the child!” She was so happy, super excited, she could barely contain herself.
“Yamato.., they found something inside you.”
“The baby?”
“No, a composition of your life metal. It, too, was dead.” She looked him in the eyes, he wasn’t looking cheery. “It was dead; there wasn’t anything they could do with it.”
“I.., was pregnant?”
“Yes. Not anymore. They had to use it in the restoration.” She frowned and teared up. “They’re sorry.”
“We have to try again?” Hisashi nodded. Yamato closed her eyes and brought him close again. They were locked in that hug for the rest of the day. The night came and workers were still toiling away, her launch was scheduled for the morning. Then her main turrets could be assembled and put in place. When morning came hundreds flocked to the pier to watch the monstrous hull move like nothing into the water. Yamato instinctively questioned why the water wasn’t at her waterline before looking into her answer’s giant and gaping holes. That afternoon the shell pieces were dropped into the well for gun turret number two for display of the huge size, also dropped in was a quarter scale working model of the gun loading process. She was breath taken when a wingless Zero followed them in, then the wings, then some decommissioned bombs, and finally a large table covered in model waves and a model of herself leading three destroyers, a heavy cruiser, the carrier task force, some light cruisers and a Fuso class. A few other models of aircraft, an American task force, and various other gun caliber’s shells before the crane in the rear was put in place followed by the aircraft hydraulic launches. It took a few weeks after that for all three of her main gun turrets to be put into place, but after that she felt complete again.
To her surprise there was already a small crew waiting for her finalizing. Apparently a band of maritime merchants were assembled to man her in her longest voyage ever: to Hawaii. Not to the launch point where they staged the attack on Pearl Harbor but to the actual Pearl Harbor. The crew was dressed in casual clothing as food, fuel, water, and other utilities were loaded on to her and she was prepared to leave her slip. If anyone were to come try and remove Hisashi from her she’d make sure they had a nice swim home. Nothing will separate them again. They loaded for about three days before they set off for Hawaii.
“I wonder how much the world has changed, Hisashi. What happened while I was gone?” She snuggled him close to her and watched the rising sun as she left her home harbor.
“Let me get something from my trawler and I will show you.” She let him go and he made his way through the stairways and corridors to the rear of her superstructure and exited to the aft deck. Hoisted by the crane was his trawler, kept neat beneath the waterline by his disciplined training some eighty years old. He climbed the rigging into the trawler, entered and grabbed a book that has had twelve different spines and hundreds of additions, and left for Yamato’s conning tower roof he always goes to. He handed her the book, ever so tenderly and cautiously did she turn the pages, reading dates, events, journal entries, accomplishments and downfalls. She read and read and read, until she got to ‘Japan regains military’ and stops.
“If we’re just barely getting a navy then why am I not part of it?”
“You’re obsolete. Just like last time.”
“I know that but I am still a capable ship. Why not?” He wasn’t supposed to know this but he did some sleuthing early on in her reconstruction.
“You are set up for modern weapons platforms. If the need be you can be returned to the slip to get your AA batteries upgraded, anti-missile systems, the radar is already directly linked to the main batteries, and the radar is up to date. If you see something on that you can hit it. If we go to war your AA guns will lock on to planes miles away and track their every move. If a missile is launched at you the anti-missile system will handle it.” She seemed to do her little ‘nod’ in agreement, but seemed hesitant.
“So what is a missile?” Right then she conveniently saw a small Japanese warship with her crew at attention, the ship had only one gun in a turret and a massive space in the deck filled only with hatches. She stared confused at it. Hisashi explained:
“That’s the modern Destroyer. More powerful now than you ever were.”
“How? It only has one gun and a few torpedo tubes.”
“Missiles. See all those hatches on the deck?”
“Yes, what are they?”
“Those are where the missiles are.” She wanted to open that hatch and pull out a missile to see for herself what it was but she knew she couldn’t do that. “A missile is like a flying bomb. It’s a mix of a jet engine and a bomb. They can be told by someone on the ship to hit this area, an area miles and miles and miles further than you could reach, and hit it with guaranteed accuracy.”
“How!?” She was utterly amazed and confounded on how that was possible.
“It flies itself like a kamikaze, adjusting, leading, and seeking out the target so it will hit.”
There are things to combat it?”
“Yes. The anti-missile system uses radar to detect the missile and sensors to home in onto its position to shoot it out of the sky as if it were a plane.” He explained the invention of a computer to her, and that the computer is how it all works. Then when he satisfied her mind she continued to read for a little bit before she asked why they were going to Hawaii. “It’s more for you, to show you that we’ve moved pass the war. We don’t want you to be resentful towards the Americans. There’s already a spot marked off for us, there’s talk of a ceremony and welcoming party. Then on December seventh the real ceremonies will begin.” He rambled on about what America has done in the past, what their likely to do, how Americans will walk on her decks as part of a memorial special, all this elaborate planning and how it’ll all be executed.
“I love it when you ramble, Hisashi.” She plucked him up and held him against her face. They shared a silent moment together before she asked about how the cultures have changed. That was when Hisashi rambled on about how much Japan has changed in appearance, culture, and government. He rambled on for an hour and a half, Yamato listened to every word. Finally at the end he got to how there’s so much premarital sex and so much bastard children in Japan. “Sex is now not for two married lovers anymore, it’s for fun with no thought of the consequences.”
“Well, I’m not disapproving of marital sex for pleasure.” She said looking deep into his eyes seductively. Hisashi grinned.
“You’re not actually agreeing with them are you?”
“Not premarital sex but, come on Hisashi. The world’s changing, we should get with the times.” She pulled on his belt buckle. He looked around, it was night time, half the crew was asleep, nobody will be on deck, and they had mastered telepathic communication so nobody would hear them.
“I guess it’s time to stop being the old man of the village, then.” He undid his belt for her, she undid the buttons of his shirt, untied his shoes, unzipped his pants, and stripped it all off him. He sprung up ready and waiting, she put him on the conning tower and opened up for him. This time he didn’t start with fingering, he sat down and licked her from bottom to top. She was already moist, the stripping and thought moistened her, and her whole hull groaned with his laps around her track. He kept licking and probing until his cock ached and her lips oozed her bright silver lubricant. When he felt her leak onto his face he got up and moved his aching cock towards her when she surprised him and launched herself into him, instantly moaning and tightening up on him.
“Like the improvements, love?” Her arms coiled around his and her hands met his at the end. She wrapped around his waist and turned him around, leaning his back against her hull. He slid down to her conning tower roof, leaning against her superstructure, her vagina tendril still fixed to his crotch. He couldn’t help but relax, close his eyes, and let everything go. Years of loneliness, stress, despair, all of it being released by Yamato. Just her arms and hands wrapped around him was enough, her gentle stroking of his hair, her arms caressing his muscles, and with her pussy on his cock it was exactly what he needed and more. Every worry fled his mind, every ache his body, every defect his essence, for once in his life he was whole. Yamato was encountering a similar experience, holding Hisashi in her arms wrought out all her confusion, all her trouble, all her anxiety. His big hard cock stuffed into her tingled her whole hull into a blissful heaven while his firm grip on her hands assured her they weren’t wrong, his relaxed body encouraged her body to relax and relax it did. They silently thought as one. They were one, one being in heaven. The only thing they knew was they were together, peacefully together at last. One thing, however, one thing still sat in Yamato’s mind.
“Hisashi, dear, let’s have our child now. In this time of peace, and grace.”
“Let’s do it.” He whispered to her hull. Suddenly her vagina grew hotter and a little moister. She led him up to his feet, moved her vagina back to its old position, and guided his hands onto the tendril’s sides.
“Love me, Hisashi. Love me like you did all those years ago.”
“I do.”
He pulled out and thrusted in again, and again, and again. He gradually picked up the pace, humping her faster and faster. Yamato figured that the decencies had been lost and let her suppressed dirty drive unfold.
“Oh yes Hisashi! Oh fuck yes! Oh fuck me harder Hisashi! Fuck me harder!” Hisashi was excited by her pleas, this dirty side of her really drove him, he lusted even more than ever. He obeyed her whim, pushing hard into her and putting every muscle into overdrive. Her loud mental moans, groans, and cries excited him even more. She was spitting out so much dirty phrases and cries of pleasure that Hisashi’s discipline broke and he, too, started to be dirty.
“So fucking good! Ah Yamato you’re so tight! Fuck!”
“Fuck my cunt! Fuck my tight cunt! OOOOOhhh fffuuuck! OOOOOhhh fffuuuck!” Hisashi moved his right hand off her side and placed it atop her tendril, moving his thumb to rub her clit bak while he plowed her pussy. “Oh! FFUUUCK! FUCK! Oh Fuck!” She reached over his hand with hers and assisted in his task.
“Your pussy is so fucking hot! Damn it’s so hot!” He also noticed how much tighter it had gotten, but he was cut off by Yamato.
“You’re so fucking big! Fuck it’s so big! Fuck me big man, fuck me more! OOOHHHH YYEEESSS!!!” She came on him, her hot insides spewed out onto his crotch and leaked down his legs to her conning tower roof. She moaned aloud quietly, but very loudly in his head. Hisashi kept rubbing her clit, polished shiny silver like a mirror, and that seemed to keep her juices flowing out of her marvelous pussy. For a good three minutes she kept leaking on him, moaning, and throbbing on his cock.
“Did that satisfy you, my precious?”
“Almost, now it’s your turn.” He instantly went back to humping. He moved his hand back to her side, letting her own hand take over. He felt one of her arms creep up his left leg and her warm and careful hand massage his testicles. She gripped and tugged on his cock, milking anything that would come out. “Mmmm, you’re close, dear.” She felt his cock tremble, his humps hesitate, his hands on her grip. “Don’t resist, cum inside me, Hisashi.” Her persuasion worked. He thrusted into her as deep as possible and came, moaning aloud as he came. Yamato felt again his hot sperm, spewing all over her insides, warming her body and transforming the surrounding sea into a hot bath. “That’s the stuff right there, baby.”
“I’m not done.” He pulled out and pushed in again, for three more minutes. Every time he went as deep as he could he released even more sperm into her. Yamato savored every drop that entered her, encouraging more out of him by milking his rigid cock as he pulled out. “It’s done now.”
“Finally dry, Hisashi?” She said disappointed.
“Yes, dearest, I’m dry now.” He backed out of her and admired the mess they made. Her silver fluids were all over the roof, and backsplash had covered the end of her vagina in her own juices. Her vagina lips sat open, her metal muscles stuck open, slowly closing as more of her fluids barely dripped out, some of his white seamen was slowly falling out of her hole and was covering the walls of her insides. The sperm was racing towards something inside her to fertilize, if she wasn’t fertilized already. But Yamato wanted that feeling that they first felt, as Hisashi sat down again she coiled around him and held his hands.
“You might want to plug the hole, baby, we don’t want our baby to come out early.” She slid herself onto his still stiff shaft. Both openly moaned to the world. Yamato pulled a large blanket around her opening panel for her vagina tendril and draped it around herself and Hisashi, tucking them in to spoon for the night.
“Yamato I have no words to convey how much I love you.”
“Neither do I, Hisashi, neither do I.” They snuggled each other and fell asleep.
The next morning the mess was gone, washed away by the sea mist and spray. Hisashi awoke first; he squinted in the early morning light and stretched out. Yamato still had her arms coiled around his and their fingers were still locked together. He peeked under the covers and saw that she was still riding him, it made him smile. He stirred to get up but Yamato stopped him.
“No, no. Stay here, baby, go back to sleep.” He was pulled back to her hull and as good as it felt and as much as he wanted to stay he needed to get to work. He withered through her grip and got dressed. “If you won’t stay here at least tell me where you’re going.”
He took two of her hands into his and looked into her weary eyes. “I’m going to teach the crew more about us.”
“Our history or our love?”
“Our history.”
“Don’t deny our love to them. If they ask answer. You were always squeamish and denial of us together.”
“That was different, we weren’t actually together.” She brought him up to her eyes.
“But deep down you knew we were.” They peered into one another’s eyes. He nodded, she was right. She put him up above her bridge in front of the access door and opened it for him. “I love you, Hisashi, be proud of that.”
“I am, but will the world understand my pride?”
“They will learn.” She smacked his ass as he walked down the hall. Hisashi couldn’t help but blush. He got past it and met the Mariners in the mess hall. Most of them would be representing officers because of how old they are; only a handful would represent the body of the crew. He sat down and asked a question right off the bat.
“What do you know already?” The crew knew a variety of things, some fact, some fiction, some controversial. Hisashi set them straight that day; he taught them the greetings, honor code, hierarchy, the rank system, everything he knew they knew at the end of that day. The ones on the bridge wouldn’t be taught because they’d be asleep during the memorial, recovering from countless hours on the bridge working away. The meanwhile Yamato read Hisashi’s history notes and tried the smartphone he had out, figuring out what lies ahead for her and Hisashi as parents. Took her a few hours but she found an article from decades of study about machine children. She found that her dreams of a ship baby won’t be feasible, it’s cost way too much for them. Instead she needs to focus on the other end of the spectrum: humorph. She brings it up with Hisashi later that night.
“What worries you, Yamato?”
“I changed our plans, dear; we won’t be having a little ship.”
“Why not?” She sighed.
“It would be just too much for us. So we need to have a humorph, pretty much what you are.”
“What about a mix, dear? We can blend together.”
“No, no, even then it would still be too much. It would be too big and too much resources. I would need to eat one of my turrets and then some.”
“Don’t give up hope, dear, don’t quit on your dreams.” He leaned off the ladder and wiped some tear build up off her face.
“I have, Hisashi, I’ve looked at every possible method I could find. It just won’t work. I’ve already accepted it, no matter what I make I will love and cherish it like nothing else in the world. All I want now is a child and you, but I need your help for this child.” Hisashi looked into her eye, her beautiful, amazing, breathtaking eye. He couldn’t upset her, he didn’t have the strength.
“Alright, Yamato, I’ll help you.” She instantly rejoiced and yanked him off the ladder into a hug.
“I love you Hisashi.”
“I love you, too, Yamato.”
“You know what it means, right?” She asked in a low, seductive whisper.
“No, what?” His mind raced through naughty thoughts.
“We’re doing it. Every. Night.” At first Hisashi was excited, thrilled, but soon his cock ached and hurt, he thought again. Nine months of sex? He knew it’d get pretty boring and sore down there. Yamato smirked and giggled, she knew how he felt.
“Don’t worry, love, I’ll keep it nice and relaxed.” She began to suggestively massage his cock with a tendril.
“Really? Here?”
“Oh, no, but later.”
The days passed, each night they loved and fed the fetus’s growth. No problems, only questions and answers, only Yamato’s curiosity and Hisashi’s knowledge. Days rolled by before Hawaii finally came into view, Yamato felt both excitement and apprehension. For her it was only days ago it seemed that her nation and their nation were at each other’s throats. She felt tense and ready. Noticeably she raised her main battery guns a degree or two when an American flag was seen. Later, late night on Dec 5th Pearl City’s lights shone in the black. Yamato was breath taken by the tranquility, no ships routinely entering or exiting, no planes in the shy on patrol, just the lights of homes, beach goers, drivers, offices, bars, and hotels. Yamato couldn’t wait to see Japan from that far away on a cool night. Yamato was slowed to ten knots and waited for contact from the U.S. At exactly the time set up beforehand the Americans sounded on her radio. They discussed for a little, and then Yamato was escorted by tugs to her marked position. When she got there Hisashi decided to hit the sack, Yamato wrapped around him as he slept; she was too tired to go to sleep herself. A few minutes later on of the American Destroyers started flirting with her. She delightfully shrugged him off, flattered by him but not thinking of trying something like that.
“C’mon! There’s a whole world to explore, a little adventure never hurt!” He had a big ole smile on his face. Yamato giggled.
“I’m flattered, little guy, but I’m married and got one on the way.” That finally shut him up. He backed off with a “whatever” and went back to sleep. Yamato looked over his alien body. It looked nothing like what she was used to. After that she tried looking around at other ships. She saw across the way a white bridge in the middle of the water. The reflection of the moon was casting a silhouette of what looked like a huge well. She remembered reading something about a memorial here but she wasn’t sure if that was it. She saw this huge outline nearby; it had a tall tower with shorter ones behind it, a long and low hull, and had three large blocks with massive long tubes coming out. That’s the Iowa that’s here. She thought, it was longer than her, and the angle she had on it, it was also a lot thinner than she was. “Pssssst! Pssst! PsssSSSsssSSSt!”
“What-?” The massive thing stirred. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve got shit to do in the morning!” It was a female; Yamato was excited, she hadn’t talked to another female ship in years, for her memory. Yamato had barely a clue what she said; she didn’t know anything English, really.
“I sowry,” was all she could say in English that was applicable to the ship’s tone, “know Japanese?” Was said in Japanese.
“Yes.” She said in rough Japanese. “Hold on, let me wake up, I’m old and not in the best shape.” Her hull groaned as she stretched it out, it rocked side to side and barely bowed up and down. With a few lip smacks she sounded more awake.
“Good night, I’m guessing you’re the Yamato?”
“Correct. You’re an Iowa, right?”
“Yes, I’m ‘Mighty Mo.'”
“Who?”
“The Missouri.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be, barely anyone knows that name.”
“So how have you done, since, birth?”
“I’ve had ups and downs.” Yamato spotted little gleaming eyes on what looked to be the bridge’s reflective windows. “We all have.”
“You were retired in the nineties, right?”
“That was the most recent; our class has been moved in and out of mothball a few times. I wouldn’t doubt if it happened a few more times.”
“Why, though? Your nation has the best navy, it’s huge and massive. Aren’t the destroyers stronger than us now, why were you needed?”
“Well..,” she thought, “I always thought it was for a fear factor, and for inspiration, but when you really think about it, I think it was because our shells are cheap. They’re just cast shells and canvas powder bags, less complex than the missiles.”
“How many missions did you do?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. I never cared to count. I just went at it like it was my last. I know I’ve done stuff in Japan, Korea, Vietnam, the Middle East, and I’ve been escort for a few task forces.”
“How often did you get out?”
“Back then? Tons. I was rarely here.” She thought about who she was talking to. “How many times did they let you out?” Yamato reflected back, years lost at that slip, she hated the miss-use of herself.
“Hisashi could count it on one hand.”
“Oh.” They waited. “So.., who is this Hisashi fella?”
“He’s my husband, soon to be a father.”
“Congrats!” This made Yamato smile, no one had ever gave her or Hisashi a congratulations, this American battleship, once her arch nemesis, is now she’s her closest friend after a few converse words. “Do you know what it is yet?”
“Human morph.”
“Not like that, boy or girl?”
“I’m only a few days in.”
“So how does it feel?”
“No different. I just feel a little thicker in my belly. But every night I need Hisashi, not a want, no, I need him.”
“How?”
“The way you’re thinking right now.” Mighty Mo put her thumb and finger together and put a finger from another hand into it. “Exactly.”
“Nice. Just don’t rub it in. I haven’t seen that kind of action in over two decades.” Yamato nodded to the destroyer that was hitting on her earlier. “Him? Hell no.”
“Come on, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Nope.”
“I’ll get Hisashi out here, have ourselves a double date.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“He might be big..,” they giggled. “At least give him a shot.”
“Knowing him? No way.”
“What’s the worst?”
“I’m stuck with his child. Living with knowing I fucked that little shit, him bragging to everyone about it. It goes on but you get the idea.”
“So he’s a dirtbag.”
“Dirt is more respectable than him.” She looked back to Yamato. “But the last time. Oh it was so good. It was a sailor, one of my sailors, and it was his last night with me, it was so nice.”
“Go on.”
“There was a full moon, shallow waters that were clear to the bottom, and he was in my arms, a cool spring night. He leaned against me and wished he never had to leave. I wanted to spend the last night we had together just making love, making love like time stopped.”
“So, give me details, Mo.” Missouri smiled and chuckled.
“You’re dirtier than him!” She gestured to the destroyer. “Alright, I asked him to do it, I gave him my sugar straw and without a word he’s lapping at my innards. I start to undress him as he’s eating me; he goes to my clit and starts nibbling on it. Oh that was so good! I was in heaven, he brought me all the way, I came on his face, just how he likes it, and that’s when I moved him to my lips. I licked his long hard dick until it was a silver glow, then I put his big dick in my mouth. He tasted so good, he was so warm and hard in my mouth, his cock oozed some cum from his rock head and boy did I drink it, I drank all of him!” Yamato stirred, her pussy started to heat up and moisten. “I put him in heaven, I still can hear his moans and I miss his body pressed against mine, he was always warm and strong, and pretty good in the sack. I sucked him off and just wished that he came forever, that flavor, mmm. I’ll tell you nothing beats that flavor, the flavor of a man, Yamato, you should try it. Anyway so after he came we went on to the main course. I tightened up before he came in so that he had to force his way in. I love it when he has to push his way in; it’s more dramatic and entertaining. But he pushed and stuffed his big dick deep into me, mmmm was it good, so big, so thick, so warm, so, so awesome. We fucked from there, no other way to describe it, he rode me, I rode him, we rode at the same time, I rode him some more, then he over took me, and then we spooned until he was ready again and he rode me more. God that night was the best lovin’ that we’ve ever done. We loved longer than ever that night, from twenty-two-hundred to o-five-hundred. I never wanted the night to end. It was too good. I miss him, I miss him so much.”
“He never came back?”
“Oh he came back, every year he comes back. He has a family now, but, none of them know what we had. Actually, he’s coming to the memorial tomorrow.”
“Do you ever want him back?”
“I won’t lie, I do, but I won’t do that. He’s moved on, I just wish that I could move on to someone else but he’s still there, he’s still there.” There was a silence between them. “How’d you and Hisashi become a thing?”
“How did we meet? Oh he was assigned to me. He had just been moved from a Mogami cruiser as a navigator to me when I was commissioned. He was at first the only one nice enough to continuously talk to me. We bonded over the years and it moved from there. I remember our first time.., it was the night before I died.”
“Wait you died!? You didn’t just sink!?” Missouri was startled by this. Truly startled. “Do you know how hard it is to kill us? Titanic, she snapped in two and survived! The tanks, they’ve been shot, burned, whole pieces of armor disintegrated, and they still lived! What the fuck happened to you!?”
“She was shocked to death.” Hisashi was woken by Yamato sensually caressing his crotch as he slept when Iowa was reliving her final bedding. “When the magazine exploded it discharged her electric life force, overwhelming it and extinguishing it from existence.” Yamato forgot that he got out of bed.
“Mo this is my husband, Hisashi.” They greeted each other. “How do you know that?”
“I talked to one of the mechano specialists. She said that is the only plausible way that could have happened.” Hisashi then talked to Mo in English, occasionally turning to Yamato to update her on what was going on. They talked about what to expect, asked where everything is, and asked about what the plans were for the December seventh memorial. Missouri told him whatever she knew and complemented him on his excellent English. From there they just talked about their experiences, views from the opposing sides of their war, politics, current events, and the rising awareness of living machines. In the morning light of December sixth Yamato saw that the bridge over the well was indeed the memorial, the Pearl Harbor Memorial that sits over the USS Arizona hulk, the “weeping lady of Pearl” looked worse than Yamato did at the bottom. Hisashi said it was because of the light that shone on the Arizona and not Yamato.
“I wonder if she was alive, like us.” She looked to Missouri, Missouri looked back and shrugged.
“I dunno. None of the vets ever mentioned it to me, even when I asked. They all were just, silent.”
“Why do you guess?”
“Well, miss questionnaire, do you have your own answer?”
“I do, I think she was, and nobody talked about her because, well, look at her.” They looked at the ship; there was extremely obvious evidence that she was mostly scrapped above the deck.
“Maybe, I think it’s more for respect of her crew. Regardless if she was alive or not.”
“There is a way to find out.” Hisashi looked at them and disappeared inside Yamato. About five minutes later he and two other men carrying a large generator looking device with a long cable on top attached to two golden probes. The men carried the device to his trawler and loaded it on board. Then a woman with a laptop ran from inside to the trawler and climbed aboard. “Missouri, do you allow us to test a sample of the Arizona’s hull?” She looked around; the entire harbor was closed to the public for the memorial set up operation.
“Hell, go for it.” Yamato stretched her crane over her stern and dropped the trawler into the water. The trawler puttered over to the mostly drowned turret well and the team fired up the equipment. The woman opened the laptop, bored up a program, plugged a cable into the machine and nodded to Hisashi. Hisashi leaned over the gunwale and probed the metal hull. Missouri and Yamato glanced at each other unanimously.
To be continued.
Who Knows what Hisashi means?
