Hymn From the High Seas (Azur Lane x Commander Male Reader)

Resonant Verity

The greatest illusion of childhood was the fantasy that becoming an adult meant attaining the ultimate freedom. Adulthood was the pass to finally doing whatever one wished whenever and wherever they wanted.

Staring down at an unwritten report with my arm in a sling and an extra secretary in my office, I wonder how any boy could've known that freedom is ripped away by manhood – that things would begin to matter, time would start to tick away, and the shackles of obligation would chain them down forever. What a boy could never fathom is that these shackles will constrict to a suffocating degree following deadlines, consequences, and obligations until it's too late.

Arizona stops typing on her laptop, "Commander? Is your arm hurting again?"

I look down at the report on our commission team's discovery of a Siren weather station in the Pacific, my hand unmoving, "It's fine."

"Are you saying that just to stop me from worrying?" she reaches into a bag from the hospital, "Acting strong won't make you recover any faster."

"I promise," I look away from my paper and into Arizona's eyes.

She sets down the bag of medication with a concerned look, having seen something in my expression, "Commander... you brought your fleet back safely."

I shake my head, trying to find a way to explain my incompetency, "I could've handled that sortie better. There must've been a way to get home without all of that suffering... all of that blood. But I couldn't see it."

Arizona sighs, surrendering to my argument, before finding new verbal grounds to battle me on, "I understand, Commander, I do – and maybe I'm not the one who should be giving advice on this – but only a miracle could bring you back after a battle without a scratch. It's naïve to think otherwise," she gently touches my shoulder, "War doesn't favor the victor as you might expect. Casualties are common on both sides no matter the outcome, but you've brought those girls back from a suicide mission. How come you aren't overjoyed?"

I hold my silence. Only the fleet that fought with me, Soyuz, and Enty know about Ash and Ember; no one humored the idea of telling Takao about her counterpart. The girls of the Iron Blood have been ordered to remain silent about what happened by Bismarck. No good would come of telling people about it. It'd just create fear amongst the kansen.

To my surprise, neither Enty nor Soyuz had a clue of who Ash and Ember must've been. Nor did they know of their allegiance or plans. All we know is that they saved us from certain death, but that alone isn't enough for us to trust them.

"No one's rigging was destroyed. Tirpitz might've gotten close, but she's fine now! Right?" Arizona asks cheerfully as she rubs my shoulder.

"Right, but-"

She shushes me before saying, "Not everyone is lucky enough to come back alive. You handled it well, and no one has argued otherwise. Put it to rest."

Hearing her desperate voice, I nod, finally willing my pen into cursive motion, "I'm sorry. I don't know what's getting into me. Maybe it's because I feel responsible, somehow – because I feel powerless, at times."

"You feel that way because your job is to hand out orders and watch. There's no shame in it, and you're the only one fit for commanding us," Arizona smiles at me, "Rather, no one's going to take orders from anyone other than you. Many military leaders can command their soldiers to accomplish a mission. Very few earn the hearts and loyalty of their men to accomplish something greater," I hear her gulp and catch her wiping her eyes in my peripherals, "Now, enough talking! We have lots of work to do."

Without delay, I take to finishing the report I've been procrastinating on. Only someone like Arizona, who's experienced true loss, could open my eyes to this. While I'd been concerned about my performance, everyone else in the port could only be thankful we returned alive.