Chapter 6 - Tell

Hamakaze didn't often find herself questioning the admiral, especially not when Isokaze was involved somehow, but still…

"…Uuuuuugh…"

The pitiful groan from the man currently curled up in his chair, a blanket stretched across his shoulders and a bucket clutched to his chest like a lifeline, caused her to frown.

"You know that this is your own fault, don't you?" She prompted, having gone beyond sympathy weeks ago. "Most people don't need to get food poisoning seven times before learning to stop."

"I can't help it…" He groaned, using his hat to mop the film of cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. "C'mon Hamakaze, you know what she's like. I can't say no to that face."

The white-haired girl couldn't help but sigh as he spoke those words. It was no secret that the man in charge of their naval base was… well… a pushover when it came to the Shipgirls stationed there. More than was normal. Thankfully they hadn't been assigned any ships that might abuse his nature just yet, but she couldn't turn a blind eye to her sister potentially assassinating him by mistake.

"…Even so." She said, keeping her hands folded behind her back. "It should go without saying that you're allowed to turn down food from Isokaze. Especially when that food is still smoldering."

"She just said that was residual…" He claimed, though it was clear from his tone he knew he had no ground to stand upon.

"Admiral, you're supposed to be the one in charge of operations here." She pushed, deciding to put her foot down now before the situation devolved any further. "You can't do that when you're throwing up behind your desk, and while I appreciate you supporting my sister's cooking attempts, it's literally making you ill. You need to turn her down."

"Cn't doit…" He mumbled, letting his face sink down to the table. "She'll hate me."

"And if you don't, she'll kill you." Hamakaze countered.

"It's not that ba-"

She assumed he was trying to make light of his condition, but she never got to hear what came next as in that moment, he suddenly seized up, gagging into the bucket in his hands. She politely looked aside, doing her best to avoid thinking about the distinctly unpleasant noises coming from her commanding officer as he fought a losing battle with his dinner.

"…Gah… ugh…" The admiral gasped. "…Oh…ka…y… 'sbah...d."

Hamakaze simply nodded, tentatively looking back at him.

"Yes, it's really becoming a problem." She said, wincing at how miserable he looked in that moment. "…And I can't just sit and watch you do this to yourself. I've decided then."

"…huh?" He asked, squinting up at her.

"If you won't talk to her, I will." She declared, causing him to blink in surprise. "We can't have you like this the next time an inspection comes around."

He tried to say something, probably another attempt to convince her things were fine the way they were, but she was already on her way out. Taking her leave, she stepped through the door and embarked on her own personal mission to save the admiral's life before his kindness killed him.

Finding Isokaze was the easy part. She was in the same place she'd been since it all started. The kitchen. Ever since she'd discovered that she had a taste tester who'd be there to answer the call whenever she needed him, she'd gone into her cooking hobby with all new levels of enthusiasm.

This had the unfortunate side effect of making her bolder and more experimental with her dishes. Before, she'd been a lousy cook. Now, Hamakaze wasn't even sure if what she was making could still be qualified as food.

The naval base was a modest one, and being relatively small, it didn't have the massive sprawling facilities that some of the more famous ones could claim. For that reason, the kitchen here was fairly compact, containing only the bare necessities needed to keep things running smoothly.

Somehow, despite having so little to work with, Isokaze still managed to leave her mark.

Entering the mess hall was like stepping into a warzone. She could hear the ominous clattering of pots and pans reverberating through the room like gunshots, accentuated by the droning hum of ovens and other cooking apparatus being run far harder than they should have. Each step she took towards the kitchen itself left her feeling like she was walking towards mortal peril.

But she was no stranger to peril, and she didn't flinch when she opened the doors and felt the full weight of the cacophony wash over her.

It didn't just sound like a warzone. It looked the part too. Countless bags and assorted items were strewn about every surface. Ingredients Hamakaze couldn't even begin to name mixed together in spilled messes on the floors, countertops, walls, and even in certain places on the ceilings. Almost every machine in the room was being used, and the noisy choir of mechanical whining was almost too loud to push through.

There, in the middle of it all, was her sister. Raven-black hair stained with bits of food. Clothing messed and battered with all manner of stains. One hand was clamped precariously on a tottering blender that was spitting flecks from underneath the cap which didn't quite fit, while the other was holding open a cookbook to a page that looked as though someone had dipped it in coffee.

Despite the fact that she had dark circles under her eyes, testament to how little sleep she'd been getting recently, Isokaze wore the bright smile of an excited child, taking to the task before her with relish. Both figurative and literal.

Hamakaze gave it a few moments, letting herself acclimate to the disaster zone before pushing through the mess. She didn't bother trying to avoid any of the junk strewn about, there was too much for that. She just strode forwards, staining her shoes with muck and drawing up to her sister ship.

"Having fun?"

Despite the fact that her voice was all but drowned out, Isokaze perked up immediately, spinning on her heel with a grin.

"Hamakaze! Just in time! I need you to hold this for me!" She said, handing over the cookbook before the white-haired destroyer could get a word in edgewise. "Hold on for a second."

Turning back to her work, she began hitting switches on the oven seemingly at random. It was fascinating to watch really, if for no other reason than because of how sure of herself she seemed despite the fact that the poor machine was being bombarded by contradictory information.

"Isokaze." She said, having to speak a bit louder now that yet another appliance was being abused. "We need to talk about your cooking."

"You want to help with the cooking?" Came her response. "Great! Just let me finish blending the curry and we can work together on the cake. No… wait, that's not right, it wasn't a cake, was it? Hmmm…."

"No, I'm not here to help." She said, setting the book aside as she laid a hand on her sister's shoulder. "You need to stop using the admiral as a test dummy!"

"You think chamomile tastes funny?" Isokaze asked, pausing to look at her. "Well what else am I supposed to use as a substitute? We ran out of curry powder ages ago. If you've got any suggestions, I'm open to try it."

"No, that's not what I- oh forget this…"

Deciding to stop the madness before it went any further, Hamakaze directed her attention to the room around her. Moving with a tired, if motivated, energy, she went about the arduous task of systematically disabling every piece of machinery in use. She pulled wires, flipped switches, and hit buttons until, after almost a full ten minutes of work, the room finally fell into blessed silence.

"Well, why'd you go and do that for?" Isokaze asked with a hand on her hip. She'd stood in bemused silence while her sibling undid all of her work, and now looked as though she was calculating how long it would take to get everything running again.

"Because we need to talk. Now." Hamakze stated, folding her arms under her chest and fixing her with a stern expression. "Specifically, about you and the admiral."

"Oh, are you jealous that he gets to spend so much time with your beloved sister these days?" She replied with a cheeky smile. "Don't worry Hamakaze, if you're feeling neglected all you need to do is ask. You know I always have time for you."

"Not what I meant." She said, unamused. "I'm talking about using him to test out your recipes. Don't you think you're abusing his goodwill?"

"How am I abusing his goodwill?" Isokaze questioned. "He always says he's up for it, and what could be wrong with a fresh cooked meal?"

Hamakaze sighed. She'd had a feeling things would go in this direction. There was no way around it. She had to be as blunt as possible in this regard. Trying to play nice would only draw out the problem.

"What I'm saying is your cooking is terrible."

Okay. Maybe that was just a bit too blunt. Silence slapped down on the room like the jaws of a beartrap, and the raven-haired girl froze, staring as though trying to process what she'd just heard.

"Er…"

"Listen, I'm sorry." Hamakaze went on, already regretting her choice in words. "But I just came back from the admiral's office. He's down with food poisoning. Again. I know you like cooking, and that you're happy to have someone who's willing to eat your food, but you have to stop. I can't let you keep going like this."

Isokaze stared at her with an unreadable expression for a long while, absently wiping her hands on the side of her apron. When she finally spoke, her voice was much quieter, and had taken on an almost hesitantly thoughtful tone.

"You… want me to stop cooking for the admiral?"

Stop making me feel guilty for this! Hamakaze thought, but said out loud "yes. I want you to stop cooking for the admiral. At least not without my personal supervision, all right?"

That was when Isokaze surprised her. Instead of breaking down and crying, or becoming angry as she'd feared, a grin began to slowly spread across her face until she was outright beaming.

"You want me to stop cooking for the admiral?" She asked with a knowing tone which only served to deepen Hamakaze's confusion further. "Well say no more! If that's what you want, I'll honor your wishes."

"…Really?" Was the only response she could give.

"Of course! What kind of sister would I be if I didn't? Really, I'm surprised I didn't notice it earlier. Sorry that you had to sit around and watch this. That must have been hard on you."

"Uh… It's… fine?" Hamakaze said, not following the direction of the conversation at all.

"It isn't!" She declared. Slapping her hands down on the girl's shoulders. "I was putting you through so much trouble without knowing, and that's unforgivable. I'll make this up to you. Just you watch!"

"You don't have to-"

Her protests were cut off as Isokaze began cleaning up the enormous mess, her smile never once wavering as she worked.

"I'm proud of you! Really, I am!"

"…Okay…" Was all Hamakaze could think to say.

The rest of the day had relatively smoothly, and Isokaze had been true to her word in backing off from the admiral. She'd even gone through the trouble of fixing up most of the damage she'd caused in her overenthusiastic culinary binge. Everything had been going well, until late into the night.

Hamakaze was awakened with a start as a bright light was blasted in her face and a pack of heavy objects was unceremoniously dumped on her. Sputtering in shock, she just about leapt out of her skin to find the one responsible was none other than her sister and roommate.

"Isokaze!" She shouted, finding the other destroyer grinning down at her with a spotlight set up in the middle of the room. "What the hell are you doing!?"

"I told you I was going to make it up to you, didn't I?" She replied, seemingly totally oblivious to the heart attack she'd nearly caused. "Now c'mon! It's time for a late-night study session!"

Hamakaze looked down at her lap to find the pile that had been dumped on her was a variety of books. Romance novels to be specific.

"…Have you gone insane!?" She questioned, genuinely fearing for the girl's mental well-being. "What is this about!?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Isokaze replied. "I'm here to help you out with the admiral!"

"…what?"

"I said I'm here to help you out with the admiral!" She repeated. "I heard what you were saying, and now I'm going to make sure you don't miss your chance! I mean, just think it I had been one of the other girls. They might have stolen him before you even had a chance to confess your feelings!"

"…My feelings?"

At her lack of understanding, Isokaze's expression became one of sympathetic pity.

"C'mon Hamakaze." She said. "I know you're not really in touch with your own emotions, but surely you had to realize this. You were giving off all the signs!"

"What signs?"

She shook her head, raising one hand delicately to her temple in a show of disbelief.

"I can't believe I'm the one who has to tell you this…" She began. "…but it's painfully obvious that you have feelings for the admiral!"

"…"

"I mean, it must have been torture seeing me cooking for him when you wanted to be the one filling that role." She went on, not seeming to notice the blank expression on her sister's face. "I'm sure he's a nice guy and all, maybe not someone I'd be after myself, but that doesn't mean I want to stop you from chasing him. Follow your heart! Don't let anything stand in your way!"

"Isokaze…" Hamakaze began. "You've seriously misunderstood the situation…"

"There's no reason to try and pretend." She went on. "Be more honest with yourself. Playing hard to get is a fine strategy and all, but you need to get a hook in him first."

"I said you misunderstood!"

"I won't hear of it!" Isokaze declared, grinning deviously once more. "Now prepare yourself, because I'm going to tell you everything you need to know about the world of romance!"

The admiral eventually managed to recover, but any time he went to thank Hamakaze for stepping in on his behalf, she was strangely absent. He always seemed to show up just after she'd left, and had begun to think she was avoiding him. The few glimpses he got of her, she'd turned red in the face and avoided eye contact. When he stopped to ask her sister what was going on, she merely gave him a sly wink and promised that "don't worry, I'm sure you'll find out soon!"

For some reason, that made him more worried than anything.