Azur Lane: Under Development

Chapter 18: Adrift

4 in the afternoon is a wonderful time. It is when students can burst through their front door, throw their shoes across the room, and forget about the artificial responsibilities of school for a while. It is that breath of life when office workers can stretch their shoulders and crane their neck to see that it's nearly time to clock out. Perhaps plans could be made for the evening: a continuation of a favorite hobby, or a date with a promising other. But eventually, dinner is called from a busy kitchen, plates are cleared and washed, and then preparations must be made for another tomorrow with its own responsibilities. The cycle repeats.

But sometimes a pressing matter enters. An emergency. A family member has fallen sick, a grandparent has suddenly passed away. A fire burns down the home. A messy divorce splinters the family. The carefully constructed schedule and habits dissolve and control shifts from autopilot to manual.

Sometimes it's more personal. A best friend moves away, probably forever. The emptiness after a group of friends doesn't invite that one straggler. The epiphany in the twenties and thirties when the glories of youth have passed by with no memory or friend to share it with. Perhaps someone with more fortitude could brush off these staggering blows, but otherwise many a person may fall low. Sometimes they get up. Other times, they don't.

The sanctity of afternoons melt away with everything else. That magical time loses its infantile innocence and it too is buried under the constant burden of worry and responsibility. And after months and years of wear, it's no wonder some take no pleasure in living. Amagi would know. She'd been in those same straits before. That's why she was willing to go the distance.

They had been sitting in the canteen since four in the afternoon, and now it was six with people starting to stream in for dinner. He'd spent most of the time staring at the table and his hands, only taking a bite whenever he remembered to. Neither of them said a single word the entire time.

She had been waiting for him to speak first.

At about 7 PM, when dinner was in full swing and the chatter of the room reached a sizable din, the commander muttered something under his breath that Amagi could not hear.

"Can you repeat that?" she asked.

He gazed at the tabletop, as if he heard and said nothing.

Amagi waited some more.

He took a heavy breath. "I don't know why you're still here."

"I'm here because I want to be."

He tapped his metal fork against his plate, letting it clatter by its own weight. "You don't have to lie to me to make me feel better," he said slowly. "I'm sure you'd rather be with your sisters, or something."

Amagi took a deep breath and unclenched her fists in her lap slowly. "If I did, then I wouldn't be here, would I?"

The commander ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He drummed his fingers on the table, contemplative. "You know, I thought about just sitting here and waiting until you finally excused yourself and went away. Then I'd get to think, 'well gee, I guess Amagi couldn't spare the six hours for me' and then I'd feel justified that you don't really care at all. You just want to feel good about yourself for helping a —" He didn't finish.

She asked gently, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I felt bad for keeping you here for a convoluted selfish plan that meant nothing. So you can go and not feel bad for me. Let me be." He let go of the fork, and it clattered next to all the stone-cold food left uneaten. In the general din of the hall, nobody paid any attention to the sound. Everyone was still talking, laughing, fighting to be heard over everyone else.