Project Leviathan: (male) reader x azur lane story

Chapter 13: The long way

Many a historian know of the events that occurred on the 27th of May, 1941. When the wrath of the Royal Navy descended upon the Iron Blood battleship Bismarck. Was it justifiable? Was it an overreaction? Was the real culprit a flaw in the battleship's design?

There are too many debates and interpretations to be able to give a discrete answer. There is no black-and-white yes or no answer. Such was the war. There was a good, there was a bad and there were many unfortunate to be caught up in it.

There is, however, one indisputable fact. That on that day, the Bismarck had sunk.

On the 27th of May 1961, the same series of events had occurred yet the outcome differed. The Bismarck had attempted to defy the fate of the Iron hull which shared her name. She had attempted to alter the repetition of history for her people's sake. The methods were most unorthodox, but did they justify the ends?

That too would become a topic of debate as the years pass.

The most notable change to this unfortunate sinking had occurred in the age of kansen. When the Bismarck would be saved by her trusty companion. A type VIIC submarine. The Parzival of the seas.

She had failed once, helplessly doomed to watch as the battle against her lord unfurled. But in this age she would not falter, she would not fail...

A grumbling had awoken this kansen, in a panicked daze she quickly rose up from her bed and surveyed her surroundings. Another grumble... now closer.

U-556's breathing had picked up, now shallow and rapid. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and only served to further heighten her senses.

She heard that grumbling one final time, it came from her right. The source of it said grumbling was quite unexpected in the moment. There on another bed laid a bandaged woman, fast asleep and clad in tattered scraps of clothing. Long strips of her blonde hair sprouted wildly in all directions, forming something reminiscent of a spider's web.

Bismarck.

She was the source of that grumbling. How... curious.

Her current appearance was a hollow of what U-556 last remembered, and nothing less was to be expected considering this woman had just been rescued from a near death encounter. In fact several near death encounters, including but not limited to: drowning, implosion, corruption and mutilation via large caliber weaponry.

Thankfully she was somewhat stabilized using the limited medical supplies on board U-556's submarine form and Jason's extensive medical knowledge. Many of Bismarck's injuries consisted of shrapnel embedded into her flesh, not deep enough to be life threatening but past the point of being healable by an amateur. The most appropriate solution, or solutions in this case, involved a painstakingly slow process of cleaning the surrounding area of each accessible would with alcohol, then iodine solution and finally, firmly wrapping some large bandages in multiple layers.

While not as efficient as surgery in a sterile room, it certainly did the job.

Now moving past Bismarck and towards the bridge, U-556 lost herself in her own thoughts. Some were about what she could've done, maybe she could've been faster, wiser about the situation at hand.

Some were about more imminent things: how fast they'll reach HQ, how much longer until lord Bismarck will receive more advanced treatment. And then she wondered what they'll have for lunch.

A lunch which seemingly hijacked her whole body and altered her course from the bridge to the kitchen without a single conscious input from the petite submarine. The thought of food only being amplified by an ever growing smell of spice and slowly fried meat.

U-556 had returned to her senses once her own stomach growled in anticipation of the meal she was about to have. She hurried on her path towards the kitchen, and mere moments later she had found the one responsible for making said meal.

Jason himself, manning the pan with tenacity and experience. He was awfully relaxed despite the numerous events which had happened so far.

U-556: "Oh my Gods! that smells so yummy, what is it Jason?"

Jason hadn't moved, he was still intently watching the pan, stirring with force so the contents wouldn't stick, yet gently enough to minimise let them cook.

U-556: "Jason?"

Coming to the conclusion that words weren't enough, U-556 had attempted a bolder strategy. She cautiously tapped his shoulder, careful to not surprise him lest hot oil be spilt everywhere.

Jason quickly spun around to face her.

Jason: "Ah you woke up, right on time"

U-556 gave a small smirk, still bubbly despite the hunger she felt. A hunger which soon manifested itself into a loud grumble... and a red face.

First from embarrassment, then from heat. As it turns out, kansen are not immune to high temperature food that has just been cooked. And the poor submarine had just learned this the hard way.

Jason too enjoyed his meal, albeit more carefully so as to not scorch the inside of his mouth. The pair took some time to chat and jest, a small pocket of blissful peace. A fragment of what could be if this war would finally end.

Jason: "so..."

Jason choked on his words as he spoke, slowly tensing up...

Jason: "How is she?"

U-556 stopped chewing. She tightened the grip on her fork and slowly poked the currywurst before her. watching the sauce alter as she kept on sloshing each piece of bratwurst around. An awkward silence fell upon the 2. In-fact it was more than awkward, it was suffocating: like a grip on their necks.

U-556: "My Lord isn't looking well Jason. I-I want to believe that she's alright and this is just a bad dream. But I just can't."

Jason: "Well... uh. She's safe for now. You did your best, you rescued her and we bandaged her up as best as we could."

He gently placed a reassuring hand on U-556's shoulder.

U-556: "I know that but... but what if it's not enough? I swore to protect Lord Bismarck, what sort of kansen would I be if I cant fulfil a promise such as that?"

Tears soon formed, small watery pinpricks at the corners of her eyes. Her mouth would be next to betray her, quivering as if it were a spring bent under great pressure.

Jason: "... look, I um. I can't say much, I'm not good at comforting. But what I can tell you is that from my perspective as an outsider, you've honored your promise. There was a risk in rescuing her, yet you still did it regardless. That is bravery, and that is you sticking to your word."

Back and forth, the conversation lasted for quite some time, yet in the end U-556 had been somewhat re-assured that she had done as much as she could have. The pang of self-doubt, the stray thought of what might've happened had she arrived earlier still remained. Yet she was more content now than before.

Soon the two had to split off, Jason took the task to clean the mess he had made while cooking and U-556 returned to keeping a vigilant eye over Bismarck. The battered battleship slept for the majority of the trip, but she would eventually awaken to eat and rehydrate before promptly succumbing to sleep yet again.

Not much longer left, HQ awaits.