Chapter Text
Point Incognita stirs with the sound of progress. Under the decorated New Jersey and the savvy Chief Fletcher, the Eagle Union’s next-generation research program is in full swing, already bearing fruit after just one week of development. Wisconsin, the first shipgirl slated for development here, is nearing her completion, with Illinois and Kentucky soon to follow. They will help galvanize the Azur Lane’s fleet at large—and the staff here hope that once they prove this pipeline works in action, they can spread it around the entire world.
Little steps at a time, of course. All that can wait until New Jersey’s lunch break is over.
“Phew! Finally, some fresh air. All those stuffy lab rooms can really wear a girl out.”
Shipgirls gotta eat, and the ever-energetic New Jersey is no exception. A short tram ride from the imaging lab in the North Wing brings her to the main mess hall, where a constant crowd of shipgirls and human researchers fill the cafeteria rows. Shame her and the Chief’s schedules don’t often align that much—she’d love to have lunch with him more often on the job. But he treats her to dinner himself most nights anyway, so she can’t complain.
“Heya, Jersey!” Guam flags her down with an enthusiastic wave.
“Hey there! Not often we run into each other.”
“Right? These guys work me to the bone! I can barely slip out for anything.” She’s not one for pencil-pushing and number-crunching, but her job is equally important: she conducts live testing for rigging designs and prototypes. Compared to the other jobs on site, she’s happy to stick to what she knows.
New Jersey orders herself a hot sub—no, not the Chief, a sandwich—and sits herself down next to Guam, who’s already finishing off her seafood basket. Inexhaustible, this one.
“So what’cha up to after this?”
“Oh, I’ve got some more prototyping work to do, same as usual. Just a couple more days, though, and we’ll finally be able to finish Wisky!”
“Niiice! Wonder what she’ll be like.”
New Jersey’s technically never met Wisconsin before, but she feels like she knows her sister well already. “If I had to guess…I think she’s gonna be a pretty feisty gal. Those guns of hers’ll really pack a punch.”
“Might make for a fun sparring partner for you!”
“Ooh, can’t wait! She’s probably not gonna have a giant mech though, is she?”
“Yeeeah, probably not. That’s a you thing.”
“Bummer.”
The two trade small talk between bites of their lunch, watching the rain gently fall outside. They may be in a Mirror Sea, but the weather here closely reflects that of the outside world, which happens to be one of the rainiest places on Earth. That’s just the price they have to pay for the safety and privacy this stretch of barren wilderness affords them.
“You thinkin’ about picking up some dessert? I think they’ve got ice cream today.”
“Well, that’s all you had to say! Just gotta decide on a flavor…”
New Jersey fashions herself a veritable ice cream connoisseur. There’s no better pick-me-up after a long day on the sea or in the lab than a cold, refreshing scoop of heaven in a cone. She has to be careful not to eat too much, or she’ll blow through her wallet in no time flat.
(Strawberry’s always good, but I dunno… I’m kinda feeling like chocolate today.)
Chocolate… Something feels a little off when that thought pops into her head. Like she’s forgetting something...but what?
(Hmmm…) New Jersey tries to scratch this itch in her brain, tuning out the outside world. Was there something chocolate-related that she might have forgotten…? Something she was supposed to do, maybe…?
(... WAIT.)
And then it hits her.
“AAAH!”
“Whoa! Jersey, what’s the matter?”
“I never got him anything for Valentine’s Day!”
*gasp!* “Scandalous!”
She remembers now. That was during her second major operation after defending Journey Island back in January. She was part of the Azur Lane’s combined fleet, fighting their way through the Salish Sea to break the Sirens’ blockade of Seattle and Vancouver. Even if she remembered, she wouldn’t have been able to do much anyway, being so far from Journey Island and her Honey...but she still feels a pang of guilt over it.
“He sent me that care package while I was up in Seattle too… Darn it, I forgot to pay him back for that!”
New Jersey pouts to herself. It’s not the end of the world, but she feels like she owes him for everything he’s done...especially after their episode in Port Hardy. He’s more than pulled his weight, she feels.
“Hmmm… Well, maybe it’s not too late. How about getting him something for White Day?”
“White Day? What’s that?”
“It’s a Sakura thing. If a girl gets a gift on Valentine’s, she gives the guy something back on March 14 th !”
And DING goes the lightbulb in Jersey’s head.
“Ohhhh! I like the sound of that! Though today’s...oh shoot, today’s the 13 th ! White Day’s tomorrow! If I’m gonna make something, I’ve gotta make it NOW!”
“Alright, that settles it.” New Jersey finishes her sandwich and hatches a hectic plan. “I’m gonna go talk to Ty and see what she knows. I just might be able to get him something!”
“Have fun!” Guam excuses herself, her own schedule calling.
“See ya!”
With that, their table is now abandoned. New Jersey speedwalks to the tram station, the gears already spinning as her plan goes into motion. Time is of the essence.
(If anybody can pull this off, it’s Ty. She should be over in the South Wing right now… Maaan, am I glad to have her as a bestie!)
Operation 62-Cacao is a go.
***
Ticonderoga finds the Incognita life suits her well. While she misses the openness and company she had back in Journey Island, having the whole base at her fingertips alongside Kearsarge lets her flex her managerial might. She helps coordinate the broader research efforts at the base, while Kearsarge manages the facility’s day-to-day operations. She can’t wait herself for Wisconsin to grace the world—nor for the bounties that lie beyond.
“Good, good. I think that’s the right call to make. I’ll go ahead and let the Commander know, and from there, we can decide on a plan of action.” She’s wrapping up a brief discussion with a certain golden fox, when...
*KNOCK KNOCK!*
“Oh! Come in~”
“Hey, Ty!”
She wasn’t expecting New Jersey to be the one knocking—and New Jersey wasn’t expecting Yamato to meet her beyond the door. She realizes she might have unwittingly interrupted their meeting.
“Oh, uh...shoot, sorry, is this a bad time?”
“Not at all. My business here is just about done.”
“...Is something wrong, Jersey? You look like something’s bugging you.”
“Well, that’s why I’m here. See, I need your help with something…”
New Jersey briefly explains her “operation” to Ticonderoga, with Yamato deciding to stick around for her own curiosity’s sake. Her goal is to procure enough chocolate to whip up something nice for the Chief before dinner time tomorrow. If she can just find the ingredients and a good recipe, then she might just have enough time to make it work.
“So, yeah! That’s where I’m at right now. Ideally I can get enough chocolate to make something like a cake for him. I think he’d like that!”
“I see…”
“I must say, you’re quite the character, New Jersey.”
Tico and Yamato are more than happy to help—after all, they respect the Chief a great deal themselves. The issue, however, is time: with only a day and a half until the deadline, they won’t be able to ship anything from the mainland. They’ll have to make do with whatever they can find around the island—which is easier said than done.
“Well, I think you’ve got two main options here: the store, and the cafeteria.”
“The store will have your baking ingredients—flour, sugar, eggs, that stuff. They’ll probably have chocolate too, but it might just be chocolate bars or chocolate chips. That kind of chocolate isn’t really meant for cooking.”
“Yeah, if I’m gonna make a cake, I’d want cocoa powder—and I’d rather not skimp on the main ingredient here. I wanna get the best stuff I can find, y’know?”
“The cafeteria might have cocoa powder, but the question is how much—they go through a ton of it themselves, so they might not have any to spare you.”
“Hmmm…”
Two reasonable options, but neither is a slam-dunk. Her Honey deserves the very best, and she won’t settle for less. But on so short a timeframe, where else can she even look…?
“...I may know someone who can assist you.”
“You do? Really?” Jersey’s eyes light up.
“Are you familiar with my advisor, Shimanto?”
Jersey’s heard the name, but she hasn’t had the chance to meet the enigmatic character yet. With how busy Shimanto has been, she hasn’t had the time to properly introduce herself to everyone yet, occupied instead with diplomatic missions on Yamato’s behalf. Nobody knows all that much about her...but if Yamato says she can help, then Jersey’s keen to take her word for it.
“Hm… Alright, I can go ahead and pay her a visit then. Doesn’t she live way up in the hills out east, though?”
“She does...and I’m aware that you don’t have a means of getting there.”
This is where Yamato herself comes into play. From within her pocket emerges a sleek silver key—the key to her signature car.
“If you wish to reach her, then I would be happy to lend you my vehicle.”
“Oh my…!”
“Are you sure? I mean, I’m grateful! I’ve just...never actually driven a car before.”
She chuckles softly. “Not to worry. I believe you’ll find it rather intuitive.”
New Jersey accepts the key with a nod and a bow, respecting Sakura decorum.
“Thank you so much!”
“Not a problem, friend. You may visit the store as well, if you need to. Once your business is done, return the car to the lot in front of the administration center, if you would.”
“Will do! Thanks again!”
New Jersey practically skips out of the room as she makes for the exit, her enthusiasm infectious. Ticonderoga and Yamato can’t help but smile.
“Well, if she weren’t already perfect for him, I think this confirms it.”
“I concur.”
New Jersey decides to take the rest of the day off; conveniently, there wasn’t much left for her to do today anyway. She’s got a new mission now, and she wants to get it done right.
***
The tram doors open, and out steps New Jersey, key in hand and head held high. Right outside the administration building is an Imperial Crown with her name on it, and though she can’t say she has a driver’s license—or any experience with cars, really—she’s confident she’ll make it work, just as she always does.
New Jersey hums to herself with a spring in her step as she makes for the main door. Passersby can’t help but stop and stare.
“Alllllrighty, it should be around here somewhere…”
She steps out into the misty gray. Rain isn’t her favorite, but it doesn’t damper her spirits at all—it’s hard to put out a firebrand like her.
An eclectic assortment of cars greets her outside. Some new, some old...some downright bizarre. Who knew a clandestine military base would attract such a hodgepodge of cars? She knows that several shipgirls are actually quite into classic wheels, both here and back at Journey Island...and she has to admit, she sees the appeal herself. She’s just never had the time to dive in herself.
But that changes today, at Yamato’s behest.
“There you are!” New Jersey spies the prize: Yamato’s own ‘68 Chrysler Imperial Crown, shimmering in the rain as it sits proudly before her. Even dormant, it commands a certain respect befitting Yamato’s regality and authority. It looks like exactly the kind of car she should be driving.
New Jersey? Well...she’s not as good a fit, but she’s not one to be outdone by her rival from across the pond. If Yamato can command this thing, then obviously so can she.
The heavy door opens to welcome her inside, the car’s interior like a time capsule from an age gone by. For better and for worse, they just don’t make ‘em like they used to—leather seats, wood finishes, analog dashes and the very best in luxury...from decades ago. On the flop side, it probably doesn’t have air conditioning.
But New Jersey can overlook those little faults. The V8 under the hood is calling her name, and she’s eager to hear it roar.
“Alright, car, let’s see what you’re made of!”
New Jersey finds the ignition slot, slots the key inside it, double-checks where the START position is, and gives it a hearty twist. A tense second passes as the starter laboriously works up to speed, audibly groaning as the behemoth engine tosses and turns. The anticipation builds like an eruption of power—soon, she’ll have all those hundreds of horses at her command…!
“Whoa—! Geez, you’re loud!”
The engine lets out a throaty growl, shivering in the cold mist. Puffs of smoke escape the exhaust pipes as the V8 tries to warm itself up. New Jersey figures she might as well let it idle...but in doing so, she realizes something doesn’t seem quite right. The engine sounds like it’s...almost waterlogged. It spends a few seconds just barely keeping itself running, conking back out right after Jersey gives a tap of gas to help it along.
“...Huh?”
Undaunted, Jersey tries again. Maybe she just didn’t do it right. Once more, the engine hungrily fires up, but just as soon, it loses its idle and falls back into silence.
“Well, c’mon, car, what’s the matter?” Jersey tries to think of what she might be doing wrong. She doesn’t know all that much about cars, but she knows at least not to give these old things too much gas—that can flood them, apparently. But she didn’t really pump the gas at all, so what gives?
She gives the key another go, and while she gets that same splutter she did before, this time the engine can’t even get all the way there, falling back on the starter instead. Jersey listens intently to the old starter working the engine over, spinning and spinning and spinning but somehow unable to get the engine started.
She decides maybe she’ll reset the key and try again, but as she does, she’s met with a loud, sickly grinding noise, immediately forcing her to back off.
“Ack!” She has no way of knowing exactly what it was yet, but she grinded the starter there. She sits there stunned as the engine groans back at her.
“Don’t tell me I broke it or something…” She ponders as she lets off the key, the starter loudly spooling back down.
(...Nah, that can’t be it.)
“Maybe there’s just some trick to getting you to work. Or perhaps you’re misbehaving because I’m not your usual driver, hmmm?”
Her high heel taps the pedal, unsure of what to do with the back-talking car. Is the solution more gas, or less? Gentle or aggressive?
Or is she just overthinking this?
“Alright, car, c’mon, this time!”
She decides to experiment a little. As she twists the key, she gently rolls her foot on the throttle, from the point of her heel to the tips of her toes. It’s clear something’s got to give, so maybe a little encouragement is what the car needs.
“Come on, baby…” She has to admit this is actually rather fun. Time-sensitive though her mission may be, getting the car to work is like some kind of puzzle—a puzzle with a reward of several hundred horses.
“Mmm… Maybe? I feel like it might be helping just a little bi—“
*P-POP!*
“Oh—! Okay, guess it’s helping more than just a bit!”
She can feel the engine trying to start, frenzied sputters shooting their way through the exhaust pipes. Perhaps she’s finally bringing the stubborn thing to heel. She prescribes more gas in response, feeling the effect her pumping is having. Slowly but surely, she’s coaxing the car to crank back up…
“C’mon, you know you want to! Don’t let me down, car!”
Jersey starts putting her whole body into it, her thigh jiggling as she rhythmically pumps the throttle. Her ankle comes close to popping right out of her shoe. It’s hard to maintain her position on the throttle, but she’s learning as she goes, getting the hang of it just in time to hear the engine sputter wildly. The pipes tremble with ash and soot, the headlights flickering in the mist. The engine is on the cusp of turning over, begging for one last push…
“That’s it, girl, almost…!”
As she gets closer and closer, New Jersey starts to feel this...pang within her heart. Some sort of je ne sais quoi. Something compelling her to see this through, to see the car finally come alive again. It’s as if this sort of scenario poses a stout challenge to her—one she just can’t resist.
“You can do it, car, c’mon! I’m not letting go until you start already!”
The tach flutters between 0 and 1, cylinders firing in chaotic bursts, trying to get the rest of the engine to cooperate. It’s a game of peaks and troughs—and Jersey can hear the starter slowing down a tad on account of how hard she’s worked it. She needs to give the battery a break...and the best way to do that is to get the engine to pick up the slack!
“Come onnnn~!”
Droplets of water cascade down the windows as the car shivers, coming oh so desperately close to finally firing up. Having contented herself with her slow pumping for now, Jersey stretches her foot and buries it atop the throttle, holding it down to the floor. It’s now or never, she decides—it had better start!
“There we go, there we— YES! Now that’s more like it!” At last, the engine gets going again and then some, blasting right up toward the top of its range before New Jersey sensibly brings it back down. The sheer power is intoxicating—this might not be the strongest or fastest V8 of its time, but she’s hard-pressed to care when she can still feel the rumble of the engine shaking her to the core. No wonder so many shipgirls are fond of these things: they’ve got all the power you could possibly want.
“Heh heh… Hard to resist the Black Dragon, huh, car?” She gives it a gentle, but strong rev to illustrate her point.
“Man… Now I really gotta get me a car one of these days. It’s too fun for its own good!”
New Jersey can’t help but notice the blush on her face as she lets the car settle back down. That strange sensation is still lingering in her heart, making her feel like she’s skipping beats. It’s almost like there’s something...more to driving than just the power of it. But she can’t quite place her finger on it…
(Actually, now that I think about it...Honey was acting a little funny when we were riding back with Yamato our first day here. Was he feeling the same way…?)
(Hmmm… I think I have an idea of what this feeling is, but I don’t wanna go out on a limb until I’m sure. Maybe I’ll ask him about it some day.)
For now, though, New Jersey has a mission. She’s gotta get her rear in gear and get her errands done before the sun goes down!
“Okay, this is a manual, looks like… Ty told me it’s like riding a bike, which...well, I haven’t ridden a bike before either, but I get the idea!”
“Gotta get the revs up so it has enough momentum…” She brings the engine to a simmer, her left foot ready by the clutch and her right hand hovering over the shifter.
“Aaaand GO!”
Jersey shifts as fast as she can, feeling a satisfying thunk as the gear falls into place. She gave it more than enough gas, as it turns out, and the car starts forward with a heavy lurch. She quickly gets her hands back on the steering wheel to corral the hulking beast, slowly making her way out of the parking lot and onto the open road.
“Nice! Now we’re talking! Ready or not, Shimanto, here I come!”
***
Beyond the sprawl of the facility lies an undisturbed utopia of green, the narrow grays hesitant to intrude. Princess Royal Island, owing to its sheer seclusion, hasn’t had any permanent settlement in decades; the only remnants of human civilization from before Point Incognita lie within former fisheries and commercial harbors. As it so happens, Shimanto’s abode lies at the far end of the paved road, beyond which lies untamed wilderness. It makes for a perfectly picturesque drive through the hills—and an excellent introduction to the perks of driving an old Eagle land yacht.
“Ahhh… Yeah, I can see why she likes this car so much now. It’s nice and comfy, I’ve got plenty of leg room and the ride’s soft as a cloud!”
New Jersey did notice she sometimes had trouble fitting her six-foot-plus frame into some of the smaller, sportier cars the shipgirls of Journey Island like to drive. Something like this is much more her speed—big, boisterous and quintessentially Eagle. Maybe she can get something with these same proportions, but just a bit more...oomph.
“Maaan, I really wanna let ‘er rip up these hills… It’s just so tempting!” Ultimately, cooler heads prevail—she has to bear in mind this isn’t her car, even if Yamato has an Eagle’s taste in vehicles. She’ll just have to wait until she has her own set of wheels, whenever that time comes round.
It did take her a little while to get the hang of rolling through the gears—one of the many things that does date this behemoth. With all its low-end torque, she doesn’t need to get the revs up all that high to shift up...but all the same, it can’t rev that high to begin with. She has to be especially careful downshifting, or she might overload the old V8 with more revs than it can handle.
It’s a lot to keep track of, which might be why modern Eagle cars forgo manuals entirely...but New Jersey doesn’t mind it much, actually. It’s a titanic car with a titanic engine, and having all these controls almost gives it a character of its own. Where’s the fun in a car that does all the work for you?
“Wooow…” New Jersey crests a big hill, and gets a good look at the wilderness beyond. The sight compels her to bring the car to a halt and get out just to enjoy the view. Now that it’s properly warmed up, the V8 idles happily as she closes the door, walks out and stares into the horizon.
She feels like she could lose herself in this scenery. The wind gently massages her long blue hair, the rain subsiding for a brief moment to allow scattered rays of sun to paint the land below. She’s never been able to really slow down and appreciate things like this before… It’s always been go, go, go. Go fight, go sail, go win the day...but not this day, as it were. Now that she can take things at her own pace, and appreciate this wide world for what it is…
It’s beautiful. And she wants to see so much more of it.
“I’ve gotta take him out here one of these days…”
“...Actually, y’know, maybe the two of us could go on a road trip together! Who knows how much stuff like this is out there, waiting for us to take it all in?”
“Yeah… I like the sound of that. Once all this is over, Honey and I are going on a little trip, just the two of us. I think he’d like that~”
That’s enough daydreaming for today, though—she’s on a tight schedule. Yamato told her to look for a quaint little house on the left side of the road; from this vantage point, she might be able to see it from here…
“Oh! There it is!” A modest Sakura-style home tucked on a hillside, with a couple other buildings in tow. They’ve got a quaint little neighborhood out there, looks like.
“Alright, time to get cracking!”
New Jersey hops back in the car and sets off, gently maneuvering the car down the hill and on the way to Shimanto’s. She can already smell the chocolate… If all goes well and she gets what she needs, she’ll have her treat ready with plenty of time to spare!
“Everything feels so much smaller when you’ve got a car. I couldn’t imagine trying to walk this far out from the base.”
“...Though I do wonder why she lives so far out here anyway.”
Perhaps she’ll find the answer when she knocks on the door. She’s about to pull up.
“And there we are!”
Jersey brings the Imperial Crown to stop, patting it on the steering wheel for a job well done. Silence returns to the wilderness once again, only the faint sound of her clacking heels left to disturb it. With a confident smile, she knocks on the door…
“And who is it that seeks the Dragon God’s company?”
(Whoa…!)
Suddenly, the rain picks up, pounding the ground below as the gentle pitter-patter grows into a violent roar. It’s nice that the door has a little awning over it, or Jersey would be absolutely soaked by now.
(Hey, not bad! She’s got storm powers too!)
“This is Eagle Union battleship New Jersey! I’ve got a favor to ask the Dragon God, if she doesn’t mind!”
“What kind of favor?”
“It’s about chocolate.”
“...Oh! Well, count me in!”
And just like that, the rain lets up. The door opens to reveal a petite Sakura carrier, capricious and full of energy.
“Pardon the little rain shower. I just like making a good first impression.”
“Oh, I totally getcha. I do that too sometimes—like this!”
Not to be outdone, New Jersey calls down her own bolt of lightning from the clouds above, shaking the earth below with a loud, shattering kaboom. Shimanto’s heart skips a beat.
“Hey now!”
“Sorry, heh heh! Couldn’t resist. I mean, it’s not every day I meet somebody who can call down storms too!”
Shimanto actually appreciates meeting someone as outgoing as her. A lot of the people she usually talks to are the formal, reserved types who evaluate her at the facility—and while that has its place, it can be tiring to have people keep you at arm’s length all the time, especially given her title as Sakura’s Dragon God. It’s nice to have somebody she can talk to on the same level.
(Heehee… She’s gonna be fun.)
“Come on in, then!”
Shimanto welcomes New Jersey into her humble abode and begins preparing a cup of tea for her guest. It’s not often she gets visitors, aside from Yamato; she was expecting it to be the usual when she saw the Chrysler rolling up, only for Jersey to dupe her. That alone has her intrigued with this favor of hers already.
“Ahhh… Thanks for the tea! You brew a good cup.”
“Thank you~ I learned from the best.”
“So…” Shimanto sets her cup down on a nice, warm kotatsu. “Let’s get down to business. Care to explain this chocolatey favor of yours?”
“Sure thing!”
New Jersey briefly brings Shimanto up to speed on her mission, clarifying that she doesn’t have chocolate, but rather that she needs some.
“So that’s the gist. Yamato told me you might be able to help?”
“Well, indeed I can… The Dragon God can do very many things, you see. Whether it’s divine miracle or more simple tricks, I can turn wishes into reality.”
“Buuuut I can’t exactly do them for free. I need a little something in return.”
“What exactly do you wish to make?”
A good question. Typically you just buy chocolates from the store, but New Jersey doesn’t want to settle for typical. She’s got bigger and better things on the mind.
“Hmm… Y’know, it’s not the usual Valentine’s play, but I’m thinking about baking him a whole chocolate cake. So I’m gonna need some cocoa powder—and maybe some regular chocolate bars wouldn’t hurt too, just in case!”
“Hmmm…” Shimanto ponders to herself what sort of price she should set. As a snack-loving God, she does not part with her precious sweets and ingredients so easily. If she’s going to relinquish some chocolate to New Jersey, she’ll need a pretty hefty reward for it…
“...Heh heh heh.”
“Got something in mind there~?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Shimanto takes a look at the keys to the Chrysler, the ring still wrapped around New Jersey’s finger. She knows exactly what she’s going to ask for.
“How about this: you let me borrow that car outside for one day, and I will get you your chocolate. Give me 24 hours, and you have my word that it will be yours.”
A peculiar offer. New Jersey doesn’t quite understand why she wants to drive Yamato’s car specifically; from the sound of it, she considers just one day behind the wheel a high prize. She’s also not sure she can accept that deal to begin with.
“Well, it’s not my car though, is the thing. That’s Yamato’s.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. She’ll be fine with it.”
“She will?”
“Heeheehee… Let’s just say she owes me a favor or two herself.”
“Well, aren’t you a schemer?”
“And just what are you trying to say~?”
The two shipgirls share a brief chuckle. New Jersey might not understand the Dragon God’s terms, but it’s clear she’s good at heart...even if a bit mischievous. Yamato’s affairs are in good hands with her as liaison.
“Alright, then! I’ve gotta drive myself back to base and pick up some stuff at the store too, but after that, I’ll let Yamato know the car’s yours! With her permission, of course.”
“Mmm-hm!”
“And you’re certain you’ll have the chocolate by tomorrow?”
“Sure as the sun will shine.” She realizes that might not have been the best choice of idioms, given her power over rain...and where they are. But she brushes it off.
“I gotta ask, how will that work? Can you just conjure it out of thin air or something? Ooh, or maybe you’ve got super-fast shipping from somewhere?”
“The Dragon God works in mysterious ways, my friend. I can’t just give my methods away, now, can I?”
“Haha! Touche.”
With that, New Jersey bids Shimanto adieu. The paper carrier waves her goodbye and watches as she fires the Crown back up for the drive back to base.
“Heh heh heh… You can’t complain, Yamato. You were the one who taught me all about it in the first place.”
“Only a matter of time before New Jersey learns too...and what a sight that’ll be~”
And so, Operation 62-Cacao rolls on. Taking a page from Ticonderoga’s playbook, New Jersey has the whole thing scoped out—she’s got the cocoa powder on the way, and she’s soon to raid the store to pick up the one or two ingredients Kurt didn’t already have in his pantry. All she has to do now is wait. Soon enough, Chief Fletcher and New Jersey finish their work and return to their dorm room for one more ordinary night…
One more night before it all comes together.
***
“Mmm…” The Chief groggily wakes in his bed, the sound of his alarm pestering his ears. He manages to pry himself away from the covers (and from his cuddly partner) in order to shut it off, leaving him to get himself ready and prepare for the day.
“Later, Honey…” His shifting around usually wakes New Jersey up. She doesn’t have to head out for a few more hours, so she usually just goes back to sleep—after a tender little goodbye, of course.
Kurt walks back toward the bed and gives Jersey a quick kiss. He still doesn’t know what to call her, really—he just feels awkward calling a revered battleship by a pet name. She doesn’t mind, though; she knows he’ll decide on something eventually.
“See you in a bit, honey.”
(Oh!) That’s the first time he’s flipped the script on her. It feels...kinda nice, actually.
“Heehee… Thanks.”
A quick shower and shave, and Kurt is out the door. Ordinarily he’d eat a light breakfast before heading out, but he opts to skip it instead, heading out into the facility with hastened steps. New Jersey isn’t complaining, though… Now, Operation 62-Cacao enters its final phase.
“Heh heh heh. Showtime.”
Jersey arises with a big stretch, anticipation blooming on her face. Ticonderoga made sure to keep Kurt’s schedule relatively light today, so that they can call him back to his room whenever they’re ready. She’s also lending her kitchen to New Jersey so that she can assemble the cake without fear of surprise visits from the Chief. She’s got about eight hours to make her White Day surprise before he comes back home for dinner; that’s just enough time for the best cake he’ll ever eat.
But first, the ever-important chocolate. Did Shimanto pull through for her…?
“Another rainy day, huh? Looks heavier than usual today, actually.” She remembers it stormed pretty hard last night too. She wonders if that had anything to do with the deal she made...but maybe it’s just coincidence.
She does recall Yamato being visibly flustered when Jersey informed her about it.
(What do they know that I don’t?)
Nevertheless, New Jersey makes her way to her P.O. box at the nearby mail center. Jersey’s on mail duty most days—she has a later start to the day, so her schedule lines up better for it. The mail always comes in at the same time in the morning.
“Alllrighty…” It’s mostly a formality, really—they don’t get anything most of the time, by virtue of being in the middle of nowhere. But it’s still worth checking, on the off chance that something does arrive. Some shipgirls get newspapers, others magazines; letters from other shipgirls are always a celebrated event, giving them precious windows into Journey Island and beyond.
As Jersey approaches the center, however, she’s flagged down by the worker there. There’s something special in for her today.
“Oh! New Jersey!”
“What’s up?”
“Package for you! It’s kind of a weird one…” She brings a petite box up onto the shelf. “We scanned it, don’t worry about that—it’s just that the sender was marked ‘The Dragon God’.”
(Heh heh… She really likes to play that up, doesn’t she?)
Jersey takes the package and thanks the worker, before finding a nearby bench to sit down on and open the sucker up. She figures there’s no point opening it at home—she’s going to hide the cocoa powder from him anyway. It’s the only ingredient too conspicuous to pass for just another piece in his well-stocked pantry.
Sure enough, inside the package lies exactly what she ordered...and then some.
“Whoa…!”
A package of Monteverdi cocoa, imported straight from the Southern Cross. This isn’t just cocoa powder… It’s like nectar from the Gods themselves. She even added some bars for good measure, just like Jersey asked.
“This is the primo stuff…! How the heck did she find this?”
She knows it’s best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but still, it’s beyond impressive that Shimanto managed to track this down. Speaking of her, she left a note for New Jersey in the box:
Tell Yamato I said thanks!
-The Dragon God
“Heehee. Nice.”
(I think I’ll go ahead and take this to Ty’s. I’ve got time before my work for the day.)
With that, she enacts the next phase of her plan—and accepts the sidequest from Shimanto in turn. Before heading to Tico’s to bake her Honey’s cake, she makes her way over to the administration center in hopes of catching a certain golden fox.
(Man… Now I’m really starting to sound like Ty, with all this planning business. Maybe she’s rubbing off on me?)
Jersey quietly chuckles to herself.
(It’s all for a good cause, though. Honey won’t know what hit him~)
The lobby of the administration center is bustling as always today. The tram drops her off right in the thick of it, before speeding away to the next stop on its grand circle around the facility. It does make things awfully nice—she can’t imagine trying to walk from one wing of the giant complex to the other.
As convenient as it is within the facility, though, Jersey can’t deny it might be kinda nice to have a home away from it all. She and Kurt live in a dorm together in the East Wing, and while it’s nice and connected to everything, sometimes she finds herself pining for a little more privacy. There’s something more...home-y about a house on a street than Room #305 East. Perhaps that’s just her Eagle brain talking, though.
At any rate, she’d need a car first before doing that. She’d commute in from outside the premises, like what Yamato seems to do.
And speaking of her…
“Hm?”
Jersey recognizes that engine note now. She can faintly hear the Imperial Crown pulling up to the administration center, signaling Yamato’s arrival. The car sounds...different, though. Off. Like it’s tuckered out, for whatever reason.
(The heck happened while I wasn’t looking?)
Eventually, the tired growl of the engine subsides, and out steps Yamato into the rain, umbrella in hand. Today she brings Vermont with her. Jersey decides to wait for them at the entrance of the administration center, both to thank her for her help and to inquire about her car’s odd development.
“Hey there, Monty! And good morning, Yamato~”
“Jerseyyy! C’mere!”
The two boisterous battleships share a long-awaited bear hug. They don’t get to see each other often due to their schedules, so they make the most out of what meetings they do get. One of these days, they’ll have to go out for a bite to eat together.
“Good morning to you, New Jersey. I trust Shimanto was able to deliver the ingredients you asked for?”
“Yup, yup! Got it right here.”
“Very good. I’m glad to see my advice came in useful.”
Jersey takes the chance to look over Yamato’s shoulder. Her car is...dirty? Is that mud on it? She certainly didn’t leave it that way when she gave it back to Yamato; it must have happened after Shimanto got her hands on it. What on Earth did she do?
And why doesn’t Yamato seem the least bit perturbed by it?
“Oh. Yeah, the car.”
“I was gonna say, it sounded kinda...weird. Hope you don’t mind me being nosy, but I didn’t break it or something, did I?”
“Oh, certainly not, no.” Yamato lets out a faint chuckle, trying to stifle a blush threatening to break out across her cheeks. “I believe it simply got a bit dirtied after last night’s storms. It will wash off.”
“She’s an old girl anyway. Sometimes she just sounds funny.” Vermont takes a look at her partner, and cracks a capricious smile.
“Indeed…”
“Well, I gotta get going. We should really catch up over dinner sometime!”
“You bet! Maybe we can each bring our partners. You, me, Yamato and Honey!”
“Sounds like a plan!”
With that, Vermont and Yamato excuse themselves. They’ve got a busy schedule today, and they can’t be late.
“See ya!”
“Later!” That leaves New Jersey to her own devices once more.
(Hmmm…) And that gets her thinking. All these strange little hints and gestures, all the red cheeks and flustered faces…
She’s starting to think there’s something she’s missing out on. Something that might even involve her Honey.
(Yeah… There’s no way it’s just coincidence. There’s something funny going on, and I think I’m starting to get an idea of what it is…)
(...But I’ve got other things to do right now. Once the operation is done, maybe I can poke him about it a bit!)
The mystery of the mechanical mischief can wait for another day; she’s got more pressing matters to tend to. The tram rolls by once more, whisking her back to the East Wing. Ticonderoga’s dorm is just a few doors down from Jersey’s own, making it the perfect base from which to enact the final phase of her plan. That signature smile on her face is just a little bit larger this morning… Anything to help brighten Kurt’s own smile. He’s worth it.
*KNOCK KNOCK!*
“Good morning!”
“Morning, Ty! So, you ready?”
“Ready as ever. Let’s get down to business~”
Tico has the cocoa powder and the chocolate bars already on the counter—for the cake itself and the ganache, is the plan. The bowls are out, the measures are out, the other ingredients are in the bag… All that’s left is to mix, combine and bake.
“Okay! First order of business: measure out the butter and the sugar.”
“Would you like me to turn on the oven?”
“Actually, Honey taught me a little trick about that. With this recipe, you put it in cold, and then turn the oven on.”
“Ohhh! I see.”
“Takes a bit longer to bake that way, but he says it turns out really good when you do that. His mom made it for his birthday once~”
“Awww.”
Jersey didn’t have a mixer on hand for this, but that isn’t really an issue—partially because Kurt’s used to baking on a shoestring budget anyway, and partially because Jersey is an inexhaustible source of energy who can cream butter like nobody’s business. All that mixing barely registers on her radar.
“Good! That’s looking nice. Now for the eggs…”
Watching Kurt has made New Jersey a lot bolder in the kitchen. His skills must have rubbed off on her, because she’s become a pretty good cook in her own right now.
“It really is nice to do this for him. I’ve been wanting to give back to him myself, you know?”
“Yeah, he really deserves it.”
“Shall I prepare the dry ingredients?”
“Sure!”
Two heads are better than one, indeed. While New Jersey carefully beats in the very many eggs this recipe requires, Ticonderoga gets to work combining the flour, the leavening, and the all-important cocoa. The pleasant aroma of chocolate wafts through the air as she opens the bag—a tasty prelude of what’s to come.
“In we go…” In short order, the two halves are complete. The next step is to combine them, with milk as the middle-man. Taking care not to break the batter, Jersey slowly adds the milk and the mix in stages, preserving the batter’s delicate balance.
“Almost done… Man, this smells so good already!”
“Thank you in advance for how good my dorm is going to smell for the rest of the day.”
At last, the batter is complete—a pool of liquid, ribbony gold waiting for its turn in the oven. After turning it out into a well-floured pan, the time has finally come to slot it in and bake it through.
Tico opens the oven and beckons Jersey with a flourished wave of her hand. In the cake goes for an hour and change—by which it should come out perfectly delicious. They do so love a plan well executed!
“And that’s it for now! All that’s left is to wait.”
The hard part is over. Once it’s done, they just take it out of the pan, let it cool, add the ganache, and then it’s ready to serve.
“Heehee… Feels good when it all goes according to plan, doesn’t it?”
“You bet. I knew making you my right hand woman was a good call!”
“Always happy to serve~”
They have some time until the cake is finished—and even more until it’s cooled off—so they pass the time with a light brunch. New Jersey opts for some orange juice, while Tico brews herself a cup of tea. Neither is particularly into coffee like some other shipgirls...or most researchers on the base, for that matter. They don’t have as much of a need for performance-enhancing beans as humans do, which leaves the taste as the only motivator for drinking it...and the taste is very much acquired.
They do eat like Olympians, though. If Kurt weren’t a factor, they would probably demolish the entire cake between the two of them in one fell swoop.
“Ahhh…!” New Jersey does like her milk in the morning. It’s a wonder how they have groceries at all out here; the wonders of technology never cease.
Tico finishes her meal and stares out through her window into the green beyond. The sun is making a rare visit today, peeking through the veil of clouds like an inquisitive explorer. The rays feel nice and warm on their faces, almost making them forget just how isolated they are out here. All the hustle and bustle really makes these calm, serene moments stand out more… Hopefully one day, every day can be like this.
“It’s kinda funny… Honey and I are always caught in this cycle of trying to one-up each other. He makes me dinner, I pay for a night out. He pulls an all-nighter to work on my sister, I make him breakfast in bed the next morning.”
“When we first met, he said that he always felt the need to make things up to me somehow, like he...I dunno, had to earn my friendship or something.”
“Well, I can understand that, from his point of view. From what Essex told me, he didn’t talk to shipgirls very much before meeting you. I think being so close to one was a bit daunting for him.”
“Yeah. And when we first met, I thought it was silly—I mean, I was just an ordinary shipgirl doing my job. I didn’t think I was doing anything special!”
“Now, though…” New Jersey takes a sip of fruit juice, spending a precious second to formulate her thoughts. “Now I kinda feel like I’m the one who owes him.”
“How do you figure?”
“He saved me in that Mirror Sea. We were alone out there, and I got trapped. If he weren’t there, I think the Sirens might’ve actually got me.”
“But he absolutely saved my ass. He chose to put himself in danger to do that.”
“Ah…” Tico listens carefully to every word. New Jersey’s always bubbly when she talks about her Honey, but this time, she seems a lot more...introspective. Purposeful, even.
“I think I really get it now. I’m not just a shipgirl doing my job, and he’s not just a researcher doing his. There’s something else that compels us to go above and beyond for each other.”
The confident battleship lets slip a blush. “We really do love each other.”
“Maybe in that sense, your gifts and treats for each other are like your own little love language… Honestly, I think it’s really cute.”
“Aww, heh heh.”
“I really do think that’s why I’m as strong as I am. I do all this because I have someone to come home to...because one day, when we’ve taken the world back from the Sirens, I wanna see the world I’ve saved with him at my side.”
“I think you won’t find a stronger motivation anywhere else.”
Before they know it, they’ve been talking for hours. It’s not often shipgirls get a chance to really level with each other like this between the rare gaps in their schedules; being able to air her thoughts out helps New Jersey make better sense of all this. Love is an empowering thing...and in the right hands, it can elevate humans and shipgirls both to surpass their natural limits.
How perfectly on brand.
“Right, not much longer and then we can get the ganache ready.”
(...Actually, wait, did I bring the cream over?) Jersey walks over to the fridge to check and...nope. She didn’t.
“Oh, whoops, I forgot the cream. I’ll go run back and get it real quick.”
“Ah, gotcha.”
No plan is complete without a tiny little fault here or there. No biggie. She’s still got a little bit of time until the Chief’s work is done for the day. Jersey makes the short walk back over to her room, opens up the door and…
“Wha— Honey?!”
“Jersey? The heck are you doing back so early?”
“That’s MY line!”
Unbeknownst to New Jersey this entire time, Kurt was preparing his own White Day surprise for his partner. She can see he’s been all over the kitchen already, making magic for her in spite of her own impending gift. The realization dawns on the both of them, and instantly they both turn red in the face.
“Well, um...jig’s up, I guess. I figured I’d make up for Valentine’s Day with this.”
“But...wait. No, I’m the one who didn’t get you anything for Valentine’s!”
“You were in Portland! And you treated me to dinner when you got back!”
“That wasn’t a valentine, though! And besides, you gave me that care package while I was out there, remember?”
“But...that wasn’t a valentine either!”
“Well, still! I...”
“...We’re doing the thing again, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, I think we’re doing the thing, Honey.”
A moment of silence passes between the two of them...followed by Kurt letting slip a chuckle. Before they know it, they’re both laughing at each other. From her own dorm nearby, Tico manages to hear them; she shakes her head and laughs along.
“You two, I swear!”
“Wait, you were in cahoots with Tico this whole time?”
“Yeah, that was the plan! I went bigger than just chocolate bars for White Day—I made you a whole cake for tonight!”
“Seriously?!”
“And she used my room to do it. Actually, I think I’ll just bring it over here—no need to hide it anymore, is there?”
Surprise! Except only sort of. Kurt’s mouth falls to the floor as Ticonderoga brings their present into the room.
“H-Holy…”
“Yeah, your mouth’s watering now, huh? I made it with love~!”
“I can tell. It looks delicious!”
“Incidentally, what are YOU making?”
“Heh. Well, I was hoping to time it, but this works fine too.”
Kurt whips out a pan and turns on the heat. Off to the side, New Jersey can see a stack of thin, fluffy sheets on a plate—and while they look tasty enough to dig into now, Kurt seems to be preparing an additional step on the stove top.
“Man, if I knew you’d both be coming, I’d have made more.”
“Oooh, you made crêpes?”
“Not just any crêpes. I’m trying out this new recipe for the first time.”
A rondo of clicks begin the dance as flames cradle the pan. In goes butter and sugar off the bat, with a nice helping of orange zest waiting in the wings beside it. New Jersey’s mouth waters at the fruity twist he’s giving this dish—and she can’t wait to see what’s next.
“What are you up to~?”
“These are called crêpes suzette. Richelieu told me I should try this recipe out—she even gave me the liqueur to go with it.”
“Liqueur?”
“Yeah, you flambé it. If you wanna turn off the light for me, this’ll be a nice show.”
Jersey obliges, leaving only the light from the window and directing all attention toward the pan. With a gentle touch, the Chief opens the waiting bottle of orange liqueur. Richelieu, their mutual friend, was more than happy to give some to him when she heard about this plan of his—after all, it’s an Iris dish.
“Right. Off the heat, in goes the liqueur, aaand…”
*FWOOM!*
“Whoa-ho!”
Their eyes alight in awe as they watch the entire pan go up in flame. The light dances around Kurt’s face, just barely showing off his wide-eyed smile.
“Good, that did not set off the fire alarm! I was a bit worried about that.”
Now the syrup is ready for the crêpes, which give a satisfying sizzle as Kurt dunks them into the pan. And as he works his magic, almost ready to plate the first batch up, New Jersey is absolutely smitten. This flaming dish could melt even the coldest of hearts...and she cannot possibly wait any longer to dig in.
“That looks sooo good…! You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Honey.”
“Oh, I’m just getting started.”
“You mean it gets better?”
“Check this out.”
Kurt extradites the crêpes onto a waiting plate, then reaches for the fridge for two very important additions. He knows for a fact New Jersey will love them—she does fancy herself an ice cream connoisseur, after all. And as he nabs a waiting tub of it from the top shelf of the fridge…
“Oh, you are NOT.”
It’s like a one-two punch. The ice cream was crazy enough, but then he reaches for the strawberries next. Critical hit to New Jersey’s heart.
“Thought you might like that extra touch!”
New Jersey trembles in sheer delight. She imposes herself upon her chair at the table, where the plate is waiting for her.
On goes a dollop of ice cream and a couple delicate strawberries. Kurt puts a few more spoons of sauce atop the plate...and one would be forgiven for thinking that’s that. Plate’s made, table’s set, dig in, right?
Wrong.
“Richelieu said I was required by Iris law to do this. If I didn’t agree to it, she wouldn’t send me the liqueur.”
“Do what?”
She looks up to see Kurt pouring a splash of the Grand Marnier into his new glass...and setting fire to it over the stove. Flames rage in a spiral within the glass; New Jersey watches stunned as he slowly, gently brings it to her plate, and pours it atop the crêpes.
“O-Oh my…”
“That’s just absurd. You’re a real performer when you want to be!”
“Richelieu’s idea, not mine.”
Finally, his present to Jersey is ready.
“Bon appetit, honey. I think you’re gonna like it.”
New Jersey almost wants to cry. This is what love feels like—always wanting to be there, always wanting to share these moments together, always wanting to make your partner happy. She sees the smile on his face, bathed in flickering flame… She sees how much he wanted to make her happy. She eagerly takes a bite...
(Mmmm…?! Th-This is—!)
It may very well be the single best thing she’s ever tasted. It has everything she loves: the fruity tang of the orange and strawberry, the sweet ice cream, the crispy, buttery crêpes drenched in divine nectar. She’s just seen what love looks like, felt what love feels like… Now she gets to know what love tastes like.
It tastes like heaven.
“Well? Did it come out okay?”
“...I love you. I love you so much…!”
“Mm—!” Jersey is unable to resist rewarding Kurt for his efforts with a long, loving kiss. Eyes glimmering, mouth watering, she quickly returns to her plate and savors every last bite of the crêpes, taking in each and every flavor. She could have this for dessert every day for the rest of her life, and she might not ever grow tired of it. It’s just that good.
“A glowing review!”
“Yeah… Gonna be honest, I was pretty nervous. I’m really glad it turned out alright.”
“Oh, give yourself some credit.” They do look mighty tasty from where she stands.
“...I don’t suppose I could have some too?”
“You’d have to get Jersey to agree to share.”
“Hmmm… Just this once. I guess you did help me make the cake~”
To call the kitchen busy for the next half-hour would be a gross understatement. Kurt busily fries up crêpes suzette for both of the waiting Eagle shipgirls—and by the time he’s done, both are completely smitten. Words fail them to describe just how good this turned out...and it’s all because of a silly little misunderstanding one month in the making.
New Jersey and Ticonderoga insist that Kurt save some crêpes for himself—they’re too good for him not to indulge a little himself. New Jersey even takes the initiative and lets him rest from kitchen duty for a while, flambéing the liqueur herself as she replenishes the sauce in the pan.
“Whoa, haha! Honey, I didn’t burn an eyebrow, did I?”
He chuckles and confirms that no, she didn’t. And she’d still love how she looks anyway.
Finally, the plate comes to him. Ticonderoga steps up next to prepare the ganache for the waiting cake while New Jersey tops his dish with the ever-important ice cream and strawberries. It just feels so good making food for someone you love.
“Here you go, Honey. Eat up—you deserve it.”
Kurt takes a bite...and reflexively nods his head with a great big grin.
“...Yeah. That’s really amazing.”
Time seems to fly by between the three of them as the smell of orange and chocolate mix together, dazzling their noses and making their stomachs beg for more. Now that Kurt’s White Day surprise is over, they can turn their attention to Jersey’s own—and what a surprise it is!
The cake looks like it could be a feature item at the very finest patisseries. Jersey delicately pours the ganache on top, covering it in chocolate glaze; it practically begs the three of them to dig in at last. Being Jersey’s gift to him, he gets the honor of the first slice.
“Ooooh… Did you cold oven this?”
“Yup! Picked that up from a certain somebody.”
“You did an amazing job. You can see the crumb is just amazing here!”
Jersey waits with baited breath as Kurt returns to the table, his caked-up plate in hand. He takes a little cut, brings it to his mouth, and…
(O-Ohh…!)
Now it’s his turn to cry.
(It’s… It’s perfect …!)
It brings him back to a simpler time. It was his birthday, a couple weeks before he was to leave home and join the war effort. His mom really had to bust her back to find the ingredients back then, as the Sirens were wreaking havoc on shipping and trade...but she moved heaven and earth to make him that chocolate cake anyway. He could taste the love in it...just like he can now.
“Honey…? You okay there?”
“It’s okay… *sniffle* These are happy tears, honey, don’t worry.”
“It’s… How did you know…?”
“I just had a feeling.”
He can barely see New Jersey through the water in his eyes; he doesn’t care how dopey his face looks. He can barely even swallow the cake due to the emerging lump in his throat—but all the same, he just can’t stop digging in. It’s the best food he’s had in so, so long… It’s such a loving thing for her to do.
Jersey and Ticonderoga soon partake themselves, equally smitten with how the cake turned out. Their hard work really paid off: the texture, the flavor, the premium cocoa throughout… It’s the best cake they’ve ever had too. White Day this may be, but dark chocolate really is the way to go.
Jersey sees Kurt still holding back tears on the table as he finishes his slice, and puts her arm around his shoulder.
“S-Sorry, I know it’s not cool of me...that just really hit me in the heart, y’know?”
“Aww, don’t sweat it. I mean, I think your crêpes were waaay better, honestly. Our cake is just a cake!”
“Mmm… I think I like the cake a lot more myself. It’s a cake you made for me.”
“Ah…!”
“Nobody… Nobody’s ever cooked for me like that before. I haven’t felt so happy over a meal in years and years and years…”
“...It just makes me so happy to have what I have now.”
The original cake was a bittersweet farewell. The last gasp of normalcy in a struggling home, torn apart by the tides of war. A memory to comfort him thousands of miles from his childhood—to remind him of those better days.
This cake has a different kind of love in it. It’s not marking an end, but rather, a beginning—a beginning of a bright new future. A future together with the shipgirl...the woman he loves. That’s why it tastes so good… That’s why it’s so special.
***
At last, the sun starts to set on Point Incognita. For many, it will have come and gone as a normal day in their lives, hardly of note and hardly worth mentioning.
But for two lovebirds and their dear friend, it ended up meaning so much more than that. White Day brought with it an affirmation of their bond—not in war, not in strife, but in the promise of joy and happiness together, for years and years to come.
After all, the quickest way to the heart is through the stomach, and with each other’s White Day gifts, Kurt and New Jersey are brought together as one.
“Thank you… Thank you so much.” Kurt finishes his final slice of cake for the day. They’ll have plenty of leftovers for days to come.
“Thank YOU, Honey…” New Jersey cracks a warm smile. “C’mon, what’d I tell you about selling yourself short?”
Kurt chuckles.
As their day comes to a close, and Ticonderoga excuses herself, the two are left to themselves. The time feels right for a brief, intimate moment to cap off their White Day celebration. New Jersey and Kurt both clear their lips and pucker up for a kiss, emotions bared for each other to see.
They will never forget this day… Not now, and not ever.
“Happy belated Valentine’s, honey…”
“Heehee… Happy Valentine’s, Honey. I love you.”
“I love you too.”