The Atlantic Titan - Chapter 5: Honor and Glory - Part 2 of 2

Full story on [Fanfiction.Net Everything Entertainment|://www.fanfiction.net/s/13261180/0]

Word Count: 7,484

Warning: Use of Strong Language; References to Suicide

:ship: 🕰 :anchor:

Turkish Baths (F-Deck)

12:00 p.m.

Resting in the Cooling Room of the Turkish Baths, Major Zacharias, wrapped in a towel, was sitting on one of the couches patting the sweat off his forehead. He sighed as he cooled down from his time in the Steam Room.

As he got up, he was then approached by Levi, who had subsequently entered the room, “Major, have you seen Miss Ral?”

“She may be in the Swimming Pool with Lieutenant Bozad.” Mike replied.

“While you’re here, I should tell you that Erwin is looking for you. He just got word from Hange with some important news.” informed Levi.

“Right, I’ll be up in his stateroom in a jif.” Mike replied as he headed to the changing room.

Levi then turned to exit the baths and went through the open watertight door to the Swimming Pool, where Petra and Oruo were swimming in their swimsuits with another First-Class enger.

“Oh! Oruo!” Petra yelped as Oruo splashed her with water.

“Lighten up! It’s just water, it won’t kill you!” Oruo said playfully.

“Not if you drown in it.” retorted a young woman in a swimming cap as she floated next to the pair of engers.

“That sounds morbid.” frowned Petra.

“You don’t have to be an actress to have common sense.” replied the woman named Dorothy Gibson, an American actress who was well-known for starring in silent films.

“Petra, Oruo.” Levi said to his party , who looked up and saw him near the edge of the pool.

“Ah, Lance Corporal! Care for a dip? The water’s fine!” Oruo offered.

“No. I need you two to dry off and come up to Erwin’s stateroom. It’s urgent.” The short man said strictly.

“Come on, just for a few more minutes?” Oruo insisted as Petra splashed him in his face.

“Don’t be childish! You heard him, let’s get dressed.” absconded the ginger-haired woman as she paddled to the pool ladder. “It was lovely swimming with you, Dorothy.”

“The pleasure was mine!” Dorothy said happily as she waved to the two in ing.

“So what’s the big emergency?” Oruo inquired to his superior as the Lieutenant dried off.

“They’re here, Bozad.” Levi said eerily.

“Who’s here?” Petra asked as she moved her gaze to Oruo, who gave a worried look. She then formed a similar look as well while she thought of the previous night when she encountered her attacker, finally putting two and two together.

“If they’re on the ship, then the Colonel may have a plan of action.” Levi said with a foreboding tone as he led the other two to follow him.

A-Deck Promenade (Port-Side)

5:00 p.m.

Eren climbed the stairway from the lower deck all the way up to the promenade as he escorted Christa and Ymir from Third-Class under Levi Ackerman’s orders. The steward led the two Steerage engers into the First-Class area as the two of them noticed the rise in elevation as they observed a higher view of the sea from the port balustrade.

“Whoa, you could see the horizon a lot better from up here!” Christa said in wonderment, gazing over the Atlantic. “If only I had binoculars just to see how far it would go.”

“There’s definitely not much to look at from this height besides more water.” Ymir commented.

“If the two of you will just follow me, I’ll show you to the Lance Corporal’s stateroom.” directed Eren as the pair of girls followed him down the promenade.

A sense of deja vu suddenly struck a chord with Christa the further along they went towards the bow. She stopped near midship as she looked at the engers that she ed by. An elderly couple linking arms walked past her while she took a glance at their faces; their smiling expressions suddenly matched the stiff and empty pair that Christa could immediately recall from her dream. The blonde girl stood in place as her heart dropped again from the sight of the suffering she may or may not have witnessed in her horrid nightmare.

A tug of her shoulder brought her back as Ymir brought up her name, “Christa!”

“Y-yeah?” Christa replied with a shallow breath.

“You alright?” Ymir asked worriedly as Eren stopped and glanced at the two.

Christa shook her head assertively, “I’m okay! I was only daydreaming.”

“I bet you must be nervous being in a stuffy place like this?” presumed Eren. “Being proper and polite is very daunting, believe me.”

“I’m not bothered by that. I actually know a thing or two about proper politeness.” Christa said assuringly.

“Good thing, too,” Ymir said as she rested her hand on the blonde’s shoulder and spoke in a low voice. “‘Cause you may need to give me a few pointers before we get dressed.”

“Mr. Jaeger?” A woman spoke up as the stewardess, Violet Jessop, approached the steward. “I never thought you would be out here on deck.”

“Oh, Miss Jessop. I was bringing these two to Mr. Ackerman. Colonel Smith invited them from Third-Class to dine with his party.” Eren explained as he introduced Christa and Ymir to his fellow crewmate.

“Hello, I’m Christa Lenz, it’s nice to meet you,” The short girl said politely as she then indicated to her taller friend. “And this is Ymir, my traveling companion.”

“S’up… I mean, good ‘morrow to you, madam!” Ymir said haphazardly, unsure of how to greet a First-Class staff member.

Violet gave a slight chuckle as she reciprocated the greeting, “Pleasure to meet you as well.”

“If you don’t mind, Miss Jessop. I need to bring them to the Lance Corporal’s room.” informed Eren.

“Oh, are they going to separate cabins?” Violet inquired.

“Does it matter?” The brown-haired steward asked inquisitively.

“‘Does it matter?’ This is a young girl and a young boy getting dressed for dinner, of course it matters!” chastised Violet.

Ymir and Christa’s faces widened in surprise, realizing the misunderstanding that they have both been ensnared in. The ‘boy and girl’ looked at one another as their faces brightened like red lights.

“Uh, about that…” Eren was about to explain, having already been aware of Ymir’s true sex beforehand, as the latter interjected him.

“You bring up a good point, ma’am!” Ymir said agreeably as she held hands with Christa, who blushed even further. “She is my date after all, and I wouldn’t want to gaze upon her like a prized item while she changes. That would be perverted!”

Eren squinted his face at the tomboy, who exchanged a look that said: “Roll with it!”

“I believe I rest my case, Mr. Jaeger.” Violet nodded in a professional manner as she gently pulled Christa aside and began guiding the enger to another direction. “Come along, miss. I’ll bring you Miss Zoe’s cabin.”

“I guess I’ll see you at dinner, Ymir.” Christa said sheepishly as she followed the Irish stewardess.

Ymir then turned to Eren, who had an awkward bandwidth surrounding him. She tapped her foot with impatience. “Well…? Let’s get a move on, Jeeves!”

Eren shared a quick scowl before inhaling deeply and extending his arms, “Right this way… sir.”

Hange’s Stateroom (B-Deck)

5:15 p.m.

Christa let out a shrill gasp as her chest felt like it was being strangled by a large snake. She could hardly breathe as she felt a new kind of pain that she would find hard to tolerate.

“Is this too tight for you?” Mikasa asked as she helped tighten the corset that was wrapped around the small girl’s torso.

“Very much so…” Christa replied while her voice became strained from the pressure of the undergarment. “Isn’t there anything more comfortable to wear?”

“Keep dreamin’, sister. If only they had something to better the girls up here.” Hange pondered as she used expressive hand gestures to emphasize her bust.

A knock then resonated at the door of the stateroom, prompting Hange to come to the door and allow the visitor inside; in came Margaret Brown in her dinner outfit with a small, spangled white gown in hand, “Hello, girls! I heard somebody needed a Fairy Godmother?”

“Punctual as ever, Maggie!” beamed the brown-haired woman.

“Ooh, you’re wearing that color again, Hange?” Brown asked with distaste as she scanned Hange’s peacock-colored gown that she wore the previous evening.

“Look, question my taste in fashion all you want, but I own very few dresses. Also, this is a nice color, mind you.” Hange retorted.

“Whatever pleases your palette, hun,” Maggie then turned to Christa as the girl sat down at the boudoir. “You must be Christa! How ya doin’, sweetheart?”

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” Christa smiled as she greeted the Southern woman.

“My name’s Margaret Brown, but you can call me Maggie, dear!” Maggie said sweetly as she introduced herself.

“Is that the dress she is wearing, ma’am?” Mikasa inquired, pointing to the garment in Brown’s possession.

“Oh, yes! My daughter actually picked this out when she and I went dress shopping in Paris. But it got shrunk in the wash and now it’s way too small for her.” Maggie pursed her lips as she showed the dress in hand, which seemed to accurately match Christa’s size. “I was hoping to give this to a future granddaughter as a hand-me-down, though a last-minute gown for a petite young girl should help.”

“Do you prefer white to be your color?” Hange asked the blonde girl.

Christa shrugged in response. “It doesn’t really matter to me. As long as I look presentable at dinner.”

“Well, you still look very beautiful for a Third-Class girl. I’d say you wouldn’t need to be First-Class material since you already look like a princess, what with that sweet angel face of yours!” Maggie chimed, making the young girl blush from the strong positivity of the comment.

“Thank you, I--I do hear that a lot from the other Steerage engers.” Christa reflected while she ed how many of the people she encountered on board were enamoured by her supposed ‘beauty’, including that of Fang Lang, calling her ‘lotus blossom’; as well as Thomas, saying she was cute. It was hard for her to believe, but given that these strangers on a ship would overwhelmingly make similar statements, it felt easier to accept nonetheless.

Christa stood up as Maggie prepared to fit her into the garment, “Alright, hun, let’s gussy you up.”

Grand Staircase (A-Deck)

6:00 p.m.

The clock at the top of the staircase chimed as dinner was but an hour away during this current time. At the A-Deck landing, a young ‘gentleman’ donned in a tuxedo waited for ‘his’ date, leaning on a post beneath the upper balcony. ‘He’ glanced around the staircase to see other First-Class men with their polite postures; one arm folded behind them while their free hand fidgeted in a meticulous gesture. ‘He’ corrected ‘his’ current posture and mimicked the other men as a way to blend in with the crowd.

Just then, ‘he’ looked up at the top of the stairs as ‘he’ saw what ‘he’ could only describe as the most beautiful being coming down from heaven. A young woman with blonde hair tied into a braided bun with jewelry keeping the braids pinned. A flowing white, sequined Edwardian gown draping the steps as she descended to the bottom. To ‘him’, she was just like a queen, if not a goddess.

Once she was about to sur the cherub at the newel post, she eyed the slim ‘gentleman’ who came to her. ‘He’ reached for her gloved hand, which extended with grace, and kissed it.

“Ymir?” Christa said as her cheeks flushed upon the affectionate gesture. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“I must be really handsome to you, then,” Ymir said with a sly grin. “Took me a while to get into this, but the results paid off. How was it for you?”

Christa smiled awkwardly, “Painful. Yet, it feels natural to me the more I break it in.”

“There you are, Miss Lenz. You look very radiant this evening.” Erwin Smith complimented the young woman as he approached the two youths.

“Thank you, sir.” The blonde girl replied with an air of warmth.

“And you certainly look the part of an esteemed gentleman, Ymir.” Erwin observed as he turned to the cross-dressing tomboy.

“Indubitably.” Ymir replied as she gave an exaggerated pout. “I must say, the lavishments in these accommodations are… polished.”

“For a lack of a better word, I agree.” Erwin nodded.

Christa glanced back up at the clock, watching the hands slowly move forward in time. Her fixation on that clock has proven to be worrisome, but her instinct has told her otherwise. “That clock up there, it’s surrounded by those figures. Does it hold any special meaning?”

“Oh, yes, ‘Honor and Glory’,” Erwin noted the wooden carving at the top of the stairs. “That slave clock is rather eye-catching. I don’t believe there is much to say about it, though it is a very prominent centerpiece.”

“Well, we can gawk at architecture as much as we want, but perhaps we should mingle with the rest of the noble folk?” Ymir suggested.

“Agreed. I believe the party downstairs is a bit more lively.” Erwin responded as he coaxed the two dinner guests to follow him to the dining room.

Ymir and Christa then linked arms as the latter became pink in the face.

First-Class Reception Room (D-Deck)

6:30 p.m.

“‘Let’s dress Hitch up as a page boy!’, he said; ‘It’s a good idea!’, he said.” Hitch mumbled to herself as she was currently dressed as a male steward, all according to Marlo’s short-sighted plan. “Why couldn’t I have been a stewardess? It would have been more believable than this messy disguise!”

“If you’re done having your tangent, perhaps you can help spot Ismay out of the crowd over there?” Marlo nudged the editor, as the former was dressed in a similar disguise.

“How can I if there are several men with handlebar moustaches gathered in one place?” Hitch retorted.

“Boris is stationed near the entrance of the dining room. He’ll send a signal if he sees Ismay.” informed Marlo as he swept the room with his eyesight, hoping to see the White Star Line’s chairman among the engers.

All the while, Colonel Erwin made it through the stairwell, with Ymir and Christa not far behind him. The Third-Class pair observed the crowd of men and women conversing with one another.

Petra, who spotted the couple, came up to them and warmly greeted them. “There you are! Christa, you look so ravishing in that outfit!”

“I know,” Christa nodded in agreement. “It was nice of Maggie to loan this dress to me.”

“And aren’t you just a handsome young man, Ymir!” Petra said enthusiastically, eyeing Ymir’s well-kept appearance.

“Oddly enough, Levi knew my size like the back of his hand.” Ymir commented.

“Miss Ral, who are all these people exactly? Aren’t they supposed to be rich and famous?” inquired the blonde girl.

“They are in their own rights,” stated Petra as she pointed to a group of First-Class engers having a conversation, particularly to one singular man in a tuxedo. “For example, that man over there is Colonel Archibald Butt…”

Christa started to snicker out of reflex, though she held her composure and buried her tendency to laugh. Ymir raised an eyebrow in response to the odd name, “Colonel who…?”

“Colonel Butt…” Petra reiterated, making Christa cover her mouth as another potential giggling fit nearly came out of her. “He’s a military aide to the President of the United States and to our previous president, Theodore Roosevelt.”

“He’s American, too?” Ymir inquired.

“Well, this whole ship is a bit like a melting pot of people, but there are plenty of Americans returning from vacation, too.” The ginger-haired woman replied as she then pointed to John Jacob Astor and his young wife, Madeleine, standing on one side of the Reception Room. “Now, over there are the Astors: J.J. Astor, the richest man on board, and his wife, Madeleine. From what I’ve heard, she’s in a ‘delicate’ condition.”

“‘Delicate’?” Christa inquired.

“It means she’s preg--Oof!” Ymir grunted as Petra gave a hard but dainty whop to the freckled crossdresser’s abdomen with her fan.

“Yes, she is… expecting… a lot.” Petra said in a low whisper as Christa quietly comprehended the interpretation of the word.

“Hello, Miss Petra,” A young man in a dinner outfit who was near the same age as Christa and Ymir politely greeted the young woman. “You look very lovely this evening.”

“Oh, I’m astonished, Young Thayer.” Petra reciprocated the compliment. “By the way, we’ve brought a few new guests to First-Class. Perhaps, you could be acquainted with them.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m John Borland Thayer III; call me ‘Jack’, if you’d like, I know my name is a mouthful.” The young man introduced himself as he warmly introduced himself.

“Christa Lenz. It’s lovely to meet you as well.” Christa replied in a kind manner.

“I’m Ymir…” The freckled youth briefly stated her name.

“Is it just ‘Ymir’, or do you have a surname?” Jack Thayer inquired. “I don’t mean to be intrusive, I’m just curious.”

“Surname? Oh, silly me!” Ymir exclaimed awkwardly. “It’s actually ‘Fritz’, Ymir Fritz!”

“Hold on, I think my Mom knows someone named Fritz. Are you one of the Chicago Fritzes?” Thayer asked.

“Actually, I’m a distant relative to another family.” Ymir said in a selective tone.

“Well, me and my family are from Philadelphia. My Dad is a director for the Pennsylvania Railroad.” Thayer elaborated.

“So, that explains why you’re rich!” Ymir retorted, making Thayer chuckle.

“That’s true! I mean, my parents are rich, I’m supposed to inherit from them eventually.” Jack replied humorously.

“At least you’re better off than I am.” Christa said modestly.

“I disagree! Christa and I have what most of these vapid aristocrats and businessmen--no offense, I’m sure you and your parents are nice people--lack in their personal lives: And that’s our undying companionship!” The freckled young girl said ionately, clinging onto Christa’s arm like a precious porcelain doll.

“Does that mean you two are engaged?” Jack asked in confusion.

“I wouldn’t mind getting married one day. As long as it’s for love, I guess.” The blonde said with indecisiveness.

Just then, the bugler sounded the alarm for the announcement of dinner, prompting the other engers to herd into the dining room.

“It was nice talking to you two. I should go and sit with my parents.” Thayer parted with the pair as he headed into the next room.

“Ymir, Christa!” Petra waved to the dressed Steerage engers as she was already paired with Oruo. “We have a table waiting for you!”

“I’m actually kind of nervous, but I’m too hungry to care!” Christa said eagerly as the pair strolled towards the dining room.

Ymir nodded in agreement. “Alright, let’s see what they have on the menu for us…”

First-Class Dining Room

7:05 p.m.

Seated at the grand, twelve-seated center table of the dining room, Erwin Smith, Hange Zoe, Levi Ackerman and Mike Zacharias were situated alongside the Astors, the Strauses, Colonel Gracie, Thomas Andrews, Bruce Ismay, and the White Star captain of the Titanic himself, Edward John Smith. Given their surprise invitation to sit with the captain, half of the Ackerman party could not possibly refuse this occasion.

The rest of the engers were very much invested in their time at the captain’s table, conversing about their lives as well as their iration for Andrews, Ismay and Captain Smith on making the biggest ship in the world a reality.

The likes of Hange and Levi, however, seemed to be at a different headspace compared to the last few days. The Lance Corporal, who was as quiet and reserved for a prolonged time, gave off a disturbed aura despite having to maintain his stoic appearance. Hange, on the other hand, who is usually the most charismatic and outgoing, has come off as despondent but relaxed.

As for Erwin and Zacharias, the latter did keep up a spirited mood as he talked with the other engers at the dinner table. Erwin had a somewhat similar disposition, but was otherwise silent.

Andrews was the one guest at the table who noticed the change in the three engers that were seated to his left, including Hange, who sat directly next to him. The ship’s architect leaned over to the brown-haired woman, “Miss Zoe? How are you feeling?”

The dazed woman calmly turned to Andrews with a peculiar expression, “Hmm? Oh, I’m fine, Mr. Andrews.”

“You’ve had me worried for a bit,” The Irishman said with a sense of relief. “Normally, you’re more chipper in person. You’re hardly recognizable without that spunk of yours.”

“I can assure you I am no different than before,” assured Hange. “It’s… just that I… thought about how we never got to see the Cargo Hold all that much.”

“I’m afraid that what you have seen during your tour yesterday was all that Mr. Andrews can allow, ma’am,” Ismay responded from across the table, sitting between Captain Smith and Major Zacharias. “But I do find your iration for shipbuilding to be a fascinating quirk in and of itself.”

“Only because it feeds your hubris?” Levi replied sardonically, which received an uproar of laughter from the other engers at the table as Ismay took the sharp jab in stride.

“Captain, I must say, it is quite honorable to be dining with you on this particular evening.” Erwin commented to the captain.

The bearded man in uniform politely acknowledged the compliment, “As am I to be sitting with some triumphant faces here tonight.”

“Here, here!” Isidor Straus toasted as he raised his glass of champagne and clinked with Ida’s glass.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in command of the ship, right now? Not to sound harsh, I mean.” Levi retorted, though he intentionally meant to be judgemental regardless.

“Pardon the Lance Corporal, captain,” Mike said apologetically. “He’s the most firm out of the entire American infantry.”

“Oh, I understand, Major,” The captain said in comprehension. “being a naval officer has taught me much and I’ve earned discipline in doing so. When you reach a certain age, you do learn to entrust others and delegate your responsibilities to the right men.”

“Indeed, if a man such as Captain Smith can commandeer an ocean liner without incident, then I say he has earned this dinner with much merit.” proclaimed Colonel Gracie as the other patrons at the table mutually agreed.

“I… wouldn’t say I have had the cleanest record…” Captain Smith was about to explain when Ismay cleared his and darted his eyes towards the senior officer with a nervous twitch.

“Oh, you mean the RMS Olympic’s collision with the Hawke, right?” Hange inquired. “I’ve heard much about that incident; I sometimes forget that you did command the Titanic’s sister ship multiple times.”

Captain Smith paused but replied swiftly, “Erm, yes, I have.”

“And that alone cost the company millions and millions of pounds…” Ismay said anxiously in addition to the captain’s affirmation.

“Well, we’ve all heard the business aspect of that affair,” J.J. Astor commented. “I’m more curious as to how the captain experienced it, being a veteran of the sea and all.”

“So do I! Let’s hear it, cap’n!” Hange said in anticipation, her boisterous energy reignited once more.

“If you all insist…” Captain Smith grinned before giving his .

All the while, at a six-seater table nearby, Christa and Ymir dined with the other of the Ackerman party. The Steerage girls sat across from Petra and Oruo; Gunther sat adjacently between Petra and Ymir as well as Eld between Oruo and Christa.

Once the courses were brought out to the engers, Ymir struggled to comprehend which utensils were supposed to be used in the order of the meal. She glanced over to Christa to her right, who seemed to already know the proper etiquette beforehand. She then whispered to the short young woman, “I get how this works, but which do I--?”

“Just work your way up from the first course.” Christa replied in a low whisper.

“Want me to watch you?” Ymir asked.

“That’s fine.” nodded the blonde girl in the white dress as she took a bite of her cuisine.

“How do you two like being in this part of the ship, so far?” Oruo inquired.

Ymir swallowed her food and dabbed her mouth with her napkin before answering, “It’s… quite an upside.”

“It is very grand,” Christa stated. “It feels like a royal palace in a way.”

“I’m not exactly used to a place like this. But I agree, it feels like you’re being pampered by all the riches in the world.” Petra said dreamily.

Ymir then looked at Gunther and Eld, who had been quiet for an extended amount of time during the meal. “What about you two?”

“Who? Us?” Gunther asked in confusion.

“No, the Wright brothers… Yes, you two!” snapped Oruo. “You’re just sitting there not initiating any conversation while this fine, young gentleman and his nice, lovely escort are left to fend for themselves.”

“Our apologies,” Eld acknowledged. “Lately we’ve grown accustomed to eating alone. Our social interactions have stunted, but nonetheless, we’re present now.”

“I don’t think I can recall your names.” Christa pondered.

“Oh, I’m Lieutenant Gunther Schultz of the U.S. Army; this is my colleague, Lieutenant Eld Gin.” Gunther introduced himself and his partner.

“Haven’t I seen you guys before?” questioned Ymir.

“You may have seen us on the promenade on certain occasions.” Eld replied.

“‘Certain occasions’?” The freckled crossdresser said with a fixed eyebrow. “It seemed like you were watching the Third-Class area all the time.”

“Speaking of which, what is it like living down there?” Petra asked curiously.

“In Steerage? It’s cozy. Very comfortable, too.” Christa noted.

“Good to know you’re being taken care of with some of the other immigrants.” Gunther commented.

“As long as they don’t have typhoid, I mean--GACK!!” Oruo gagged as Petra subtly jabbed his abdomen with her elbow, causing him to bite his tongue yet again.

“Oruo! Don’t cast them as the ‘other’!” scolded Petra.

“May I remind you, Lieutenant, that us Americans were born from immigration.” lectured Eld.

“You know, I’ve heard stories about how your country actually belonged to its original people.” Ymir added as she shifted to a more sarcastic tone. “I bet they were really grateful for your established colonies saving them from their ways of life. Not that they had much of a choice, but you were so thrilled to share your ‘religious freedom’ with the rest of them, so…”

The three military men and the secretary were uncomfortably silent and were unable (and most likely refuting) to even answer Ymir’s statement.

Christa awkwardly tried to change the subject, “Um, I am somewhat hoping that America provides some of the promises of liberty that the other Third-Class engers have talked about…”

“That reminds me, didn’t you guys also have a little domestic war in the last century? I mean, what was that about? You couldn’t decide whether to give emancipation to a few slaves?” Ymir asked with a sting of reproachful cynicism.

“Err… you mean, the Civil War? Oh, yes, well…” Gunther stammered, unable to give a solid response.

“You should ask Colonel Gracie about it. He’s a bit of an expert in that subject.” Eld recommended, which gave the other guests a chance to breathe out of having to avoid a heavy-handed conversation.

“Hm, good to know.” Ymir nodded while Christa ate in silence.

8:15 p.m.

After the dinner courses were completed and the conversations at the tables were sparse, many of the guests left their seats and proceeded to leave the dining room. The men carried the rest of their friendly banter to the Smoking Room, while the women and their escorts flocked elsewhere.

Levi, Erwin, Hange and Mike, grouped together and parted from their esteemed fellow engers along with the captain.

“It was a pleasure dining with you, Captain Smith.” Erwin complimented the sea veteran.

“Likewise. Now, I believe it is about time for me to return to my post.” The captain humbly acknowledged, bidding the Colonel and his entourage a pleasant evening.

“Would any of you care to me for some Bridge in my stateroom?” Ismay warmly inquired.

While a few of the other engers accepted the invitation, Levi silently turned away from Hange and Mike. Hange called out to her colleague, “Levi? You’re not just gonna leave us, are you?”

“I’m going up on deck for a walk. See you in a few.” Ackerman replied coldly.

“Quite the enigma, ain’t he?” Hange said sardonically.

“I think I shall retire to my stateroom for the night.” Erwin announced, turning to Hange and Mike.

“Erwin, what about…?” Zacharias asked Erwin, gesturing to the two Steerage engers, who were leaving the Dining Room with the other of the Ackerman party.

“Keep an eye on them; make sure the Lieutenants have them safely situated in their cabins.” ordered Erwin. Mike and Hange acknowledged the command with a nod.

First-Class Reception Room

Marlo stood next to Hitch as they waited for Ismay to reenter the Reception Room for some time. The reporter grew anxious, hoping to see Boris finally give his signal. As engers filed out of the dining area.

Within the crowd, Ymir, Christa, Petra and Oruo left together, with Gunther and Eld following close behind them. The short blonde girl glanced upwards to the young woman, “Thank you for letting us sit with you, Miss Petra.”

“It was no trouble, Christa.” Petra replied graciously.

“Also, I’m sorry for how awkward it got.” Christa said apologetically.

“Oh, we’ve had dinners that were… more tense than this one.” Oruo said sheepishly, sending a side-glance to Ymir.

“Right… never bring up politics… period.” Ymir said reluctantly.

“Miss Petra, I was told by Miss Jessop that you could send messages by wire.” Christa said as she pulled out a small envelope from her dress. “I was hoping that I could send this to my relatives in America.”

“Sure, I can bring it to the Purser’s Office for you. They’ll send it through the Marconi radio room and have it delivered through telegram post-haste.” Petra elaborated.

“Thank you! It really means a lot!” Christa said happily as she handed the envelope to Petra.

Petra looked at the envelope and noticed that the name ‘Frieda’ was inscribed, but no forwarding address was included on the front of it. “Christa, where is this letter supposed to be sent to?”

“Richmond, Virginia. You need the street address, right?” The girl inquired. “Sorry, I was so eager to write the letter that I forgot to include the mailing address.”

“That’s okay. If you can it, I can forward it there.” Petra suggested.

“I do, actually. Do you have a pen?” Christa asked as Oruo pulled a fountain pen out of his jacket.

“Got you covered!” Oruo said confidently, handing the pen over to Christa as she swiftly added the address on the envelope.

Meanwhile, Boris, standing at the entrance of the Dining Room, immediately spotted Ismay heading out. He took a compact mirror from his pocket, reflecting the light to his colleagues across the room. Unfortunately, before the two of them could notice, the light ended up blinding Gunther in the eyes.

“AH! What the hell?!” Gunther exclaimed, shielding his eyes from the reflected light.

“Oops.” Boris muttered, correcting the light to his colleagues’ position.

“There it is!” Marlo exclaimed.

“And there’s Ismay!” Hitch said as she pointed to the White Star chairman, who climbed up the staircase.

Just then, however, before either could approach him, they saw Boris being harangued by Gunther, who grabbed him by the collar and began to interrogate him. “Hey, what’s the big idea, pal! You nearly took out my eyesight!”

“Lieutenant Schultz, calm down!” ordered Eld as he tried to pull his compatriot away from the enger in disguise.

“Crap… no matter! Hitch, go follow Ismay and salvage whatever you can for the interview. I’ll take care of this.” Marlo directed the crossdresser while he went to Boris’s aid.

She sighed as she held her hands behind her head, turning on her heel as she headed to the elevator. “Yeah, this was definitely moot…”

“Will you two knock it off?!” barked Oruo at his Army colleagues as he walked over to intervene.

“Well, this got interesting.” Ymir said with a pursed lip as she crossed her arms while she watched the confrontation unfold.

“I’ll hold onto that for you,” Petra said brightly as Christa handed the envelope back to her. “Now, if you two would excuse me…”

The ginger-haired secretary gave an agitated pout as she followed Oruo to confront the misbehaving gentlemen. Ymir then wrapped her arm around Christa’s and leaned into her friend’s ear, “Let’s get outta here. We don’t need to see this mess.”

“I think I agree with you.” Christa nodded as the pair moved towards the elevators while several engers were observing the scene.

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen! What seems to be the problem here?” Marlo inquired while he attempted to mediate the conflict before more of the stewards were involved.

“This guy’s using a mirror to blind me!” Gunther said angrily.

“I deeply apologize for his abhorrent behavior!” The young man in the bowl cut said as he grabbed Boris by the shoulders and started to escort him away. “I’ll give him quite the earful!”

“Pardon me? But have I seen you somewhere before?” Thomas Andrews questioned the two stewards.

“Us? Oh, we normally work in the lounge upstairs, but we have been reassigned to work here.” The reporter explained.

“Hold on, you’re the reporters from Second-Class!” Andrews realized as he correctly identified the pair.

Marlo’s eyes widened in surprise over how he had not ed the fact that other First-Class engers would have seen him beforehand. Boris simply gave the reporter a flat look, “Oh, no, we’re busted.”

“Yes, you are.” An actual steward said sternly as he and another steward calmly carried both Second-Class ticket holders away from the scene.

“Pay no mind, everyone. It’s all being taken care of.” Andrews politely addressed the other engers as they went about the rest of their night.

The two Third-Class engers and the editor in disguise entered the lift on the right. The lift operator opened the gates to allow all three to step inside. The operator then inquired to the engers, “Going up or down?”

“All the way to the heavens, my good man!” Ymir said with an exaggerated display of elegance, which made Christa smile in amusement.

“I need to head to A-Deck as well.” Hitch replied.

“Yes, sir.” The operator complied as he closed the gates and sent the elevator upwards to A-Deck.

As the engers rode the lift, Hitch glanced at the ‘gentleman’ next to her. She exhaled softly, “It’s not easy being a gentleman, is it?”

Ymir paused as she pulled her escort closer to her. “More or less. It has its benefits.”

First-Class Corridor (C-Deck)

8:45 p.m.

After taking care of another stateroom, Mikasa closed the door behind her as she walked down the hallway. Her friend, Armin, calmly walked up to her. “Mikasa…”

“Armin? What are you doing here?” Mikasa asked the blond steward.

“This is… hard to explain, but…” Armin said awkwardly as he showed Mikasa the soot-stained letter.

“What’s this?” Mikasa inquired with confusion.

“When me and Miss Zoe were down in the boiler rooms, a stoker told me to give this to you.” Armin explained, handing the letter to the stewardess.

“How did he know who I was?” The dark-haired girl asked.

“I don’t know, but if he knows you, it’s probably important.” Armin replied.

Mikasa quietly unfolded the letter and read its contents:

“Dear, Mikasa,

You may not know me, but I have seen you once on deck.

I am hoping we could meet when you have time on your hands.

Perhaps at 10:00 tomorrow night on the Well Deck?

There are some things I would like to get off my chest, if you are willing to see me.

Sincerely, (and with many hearts),

Jean.”

“This is a really odd letter.” Mikasa said flatly.

“Is it? He seemed so strange to me.” Armin commented.

“He wants me, someone he doesn’t even know, to meet him at a specific place at a certain time,” Mikasa reiterated. “Maybe I should.”

“What?! Why?!” exclaimed Armin.

“I may as well express how I feel, if it’s what he wants.” The stewardess said nonchalantly.

“Are you saying… that he likes you?” said a flabbergasted Armin.

“He said he wanted to get something off his chest. I think that alone tells me he has feelings for me. Plus, he ended the letter with ‘many hearts’.” The young girl paraphrased.

“What do you think of him, Mikasa?” Armin asked as his friend showed a mixed expression of knowing her answer while also unwilling to divulge anything more.

Instead of an answer from Mikasa, Armin received a panicked shout from Hange, who surprised him. “ARMIN!!!”

“G’ah! Miss Zoe--!” Armin yelped in response.

“Where is Christa and Ymir?!” Hange said with an overly anxious tone. "Tell me you've seen them?!"

“No, ma’am, I haven’t!” Armin replied.

“What seems to be the trouble, miss?” Mikasa asked calmly.

“The two Third-Class engers we invited to dinner are missing! They slipped away during a commotion downstairs and now they’re gone!” Hange implored with an excruciating urgency.

“We’ll find them, Miss Zoe.” assured Mikasa.

“Maybe they’re out on deck?” Armin surmised. “They may have gone out for a walk.”

“Or they could have gone back to Third-Class!” Hange presumed. “You two fan out and search the outside areas, I’ll go below deck!”

“Yes, ma’am.” The steward and stewardess said in unison as Hange split off from the two crew .

“Levi and Erwin are gonna kill me for this…” Hange said nervously before heading off in another direction.

Boat Deck (Starboard-Side)

9:00 p.m.

“Leave her, Johnny, leave her!/ Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her!/ For the voyage is long and the winds don’t blow/ And it’s time for us to leave her!” The two girls happily sang the sea shanty ‘Leave Her Johnny’ in a dual harmony, walking casually on the deck under the clear night sky that was sequined with stars.

Ymir had her bowtie unfastened and her jacket removed, retiring her gentleman facade for the night. Christa had taken off her dress shoes and had to walk with only her stockings protecting her feet. The coat that Ymir had worn covered her friend like a blanket to keep her warm.

“I thought I heard the old man say/ Leave her, Johnny, leave her!” Christa sang the verse as she chuckled.

“Tomorrow ye will get your pay/ And it’s time for us to leave her!” Ymir chimed in.

The wind softly blew against Christa’s gown as she was captivated by the calm environment around her. She raised her sight to the stars above, observing the atmosphere that felt closer than before.

The freckled young girl gazed up at the sky then took Christa by the hand, “Come on, let’s get a better look.”

They then walked up to the raised roof of the First-Class Lounge and stood next to the com tower. Between the second and third funnels, right near the center of the ship, they observed the cosmic beauty that draped the world. Christa held on to one of the guywires and leaned forward in an optimal viewing position.

“It makes you feel insignificant, right?” Ymir wondered while keeping her eyes on the stars. The small blonde glanced towards her friend while the latter continued, “It’s like everything that happens on Earth doesn’t even matter in the grand order of our creator. Our size is proportional in this world, but all that you see up there is bigger than you, me and this entire ocean.”

“Yeah, we’re just… floating in a larger ocean, aren’t we?” Christa said dreamily while turning back to the sky again. “And I’m only a small creature whose life is only a flash of light ing by…”

“Okay, I did not intend for this weird philosophical conversation to go in that direction, but…” Ymir said sheepishly before being interjected by Christa.

“Sorry, that’s a dark thought that I didn’t want to get out,” The short girl said timidly. “Though, when you bring that up, it made me think: ‘What am I good for?’ Am I only being the nice, pretty girl that everyone sees me as?”

“What made you think that?” Ymir inquired.

Christa exhaled gently but with a strong gust, “When Maggie, Miss Petra and… everyone else said that I was beautiful and nice, it made me question whether that’s how I should show myself.”

“As a sweet, innocent, noble girl who would jump off a ship to try and save someone from drowning?” surmised Ymir.

“Why would I? You were there to help pull her back up.” Christa refuted.

“What if I wasn’t?” Ymir retorted with a harsh tone, silencing Christa, who gave an astonished look. “If you tried to save her by yourself, she would have fallen overboard. Then, in a desperate attempt to save her, you would have jumped in after her, which would be futile because either the fall would have killed you, you would have drowned or you would freeze to death in the cold-ass water.”

Christa paused before she tried rebutting again, “What do you know? You’d have no way of knowing.”

“ last night when I found you on the Poop Deck?” Ymir reminisced while reminding her blonde friend. “Before that, I noticed that you left your shoes in our berth. You were wearing socks during that whole fiasco. It could only mean that you were ready to jump in at any time, like you expected someone to be some damsel in distress that you could help. Even if it killed you, it would make you look like a hero.”

“And what’s wrong with that?!” Christa shouted with an enraged defense, shocking her tall friend. Immediately, she withdrew herself, “S-sorry… I…”

“Don’t… apologize.” Ymir replied calmly as she folded her arms. “Look, I’m not here to shame you for trying to do the right thing; whatever you do with your life is up to you. What I’m saying is that rather than act like a stupid bitch who would sacrifice herself, you should live for yourself and for the name that you choose to live with.”

“How can I… if no one cares if I’m alive?” Christa asked with a flat, but depressed voice.

Ymir gave a soft expression as she inserted her hands into her pockets, “Well… from my experience, growing up as an orphan, I never had a name until I was given one. Those who rejected me didn’t care whether I lived or died. So, at the opportune moment, I found my freedom and lived with the only name that I had. Kind of as a ‘fuck you’ to those who hated me.”

Christa pondered the incentive as she listened intently; Ymir continued, “I mean, my word isn’t gospel. Neither is a literal one or someone else’s advice. It’s how I got by, and if you really want to get by, you just have to find it in yourself to accept who you really are and confront your own demons.”

“That’s… a lot to take in.” Christa said timidly while attempting to process Ymir’s personal view.

“Take it in small bites then,” Ymir attested with a determined look upon her face. “As long as you’re living by your true name, maybe you’ll understand better than you ever could.”

“Ymir…” Christa said warmly.

“Miss Christa!” said a familiar male voice as Armin and Mikasa came up to the pair on the raised roof. “I’m glad we found you!”

“Huh, you two look happy to see us. Especially the maid…” snarked Ymir as she fixed her glance unto Mikasa, who simply gave an austere gaze.

“Miss Zoe has sent us to look for you,” informed Mikasa. “We'll escort you back to your cabin if you would just follow us.”

“I think we should call it a night.” Christa replied as she put her shoes back on while having mustered up her usual friendly disposition.

“Alright, lead the way.” Ymir nodded as she held Christa’s hand and followed the steward and stewardess.

Christa then began to hum “Leave Her Johnny” once more, taking a wistful look out into the sea before going inside with her ‘gentleman’.

And thus, Titanic presses on to see another day. But the following morning as well as the evening soon after will prove to be much more eventful than the last...

END OF CHAPTER 5