Nimbus Child I: Games of War

Past 1

"This is your last cruise, my lady", spoke a man in navy uniform, lovingly touching the ship's hull.

He had spent many years with this ship, even won a war with her - letting this one go was sad.

The vessel's mental model was watching him, a fact he was unaware of since that was many years before the Afterlife was brought into existence, mental models not more than mere ghosts.

My last cruise, you say?, she mused to herself, does that count for Hiei too, I wonder?

They were sisters, after all, not far apart in age.

He caressed the warship one more time, then left.

Hiei and Kongō looked after him, both perched on the latter's superstructure.

The armoured corvettes had spent most of their life in peace, but they had still participated in wars, though most recently only in minor roles - war was something for the younger generations, like Mikasa and her "sisters".

Kongō looked at her own sister, taking the details of her soul in as if they would be scrapped tonight and not in the nearest of futures.

She liked Hiei's brown hair more than her own silver one, thought her eyes that looked like the sunrise were beautiful and her smile-filled face cute.

If they would see each other again, Kongō didn't know. Hell, she didn't even know if she wanted to; this world was cruel and Hiei was soft - it might break her.

Hiei noticed her gaze, looked over, and smiled.

Kongō petted her hair.

Don't break her, don't break her, don't break her, don't break-

Lion caressed her daughter's cheek, marveling at her sundown eyes.

The little battlecruiser appeared as a four year old girl, with pouty baby cheeks and a strong little head.

She was unbelievably cute - Lion could understand human mothers now - perching on Lion's arm and holding her shoulders.

"Abunai!", the child squeezes Lion's shoulders and kicks her feet.

That had been her very first word. When she had launched today, not long ago, a mental model had manifested the instant her name had been called.

Oh, an old soul, then!, Lion had thought with excitement.

It didn't matter to Lion: ships normally didn't remember their earlier lives anyway and the child born from her blueprints was the child born from her blueprints.

The new mental model had looked around numbly, then heaved her hands up to face-height, looked at them and said: "Abunai."

"Abunai" meant "dangerous" in Japanese.

"What is, little one?"

"This!"

"This?"

Kongō nodded energetically, then pouted when her mother didn't understand.

Lion laughed at that and nuzzled her head.