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Deep into the darkness, he felt hundreds of eyes upon him. Every month he returned to this place, his true name disappeared and his face ripped from his skull. Now stood a different creature, a wondrous terrifying fiend who stood on the side of justice. His eyes closed beneath the mask, his arms spread wide to reveal membranous wings stretching from his sides.

The sun suddenly burned upon his back, a thunderous roar came from an audience in the dark. With glorious emerald suit, a belt with a golden V, and a mask forming a flaming mohawk that covered his spikes, the hero of Ryukyon stood before his adoring fans like a jade idol beneath the spotlight.

On the other side of the ring was his opponent, a proud oni with flaming blue hair and ancient armour who flexed before the crowd. Some cheered, some booed as his armoured plates shuddered in his walk, long curls of azure draped down his shoulders with twisting fangs from his helmet.

"IT ALL COMES DOWN TO THIS!" the MC's voice rang through the hall. "WHO SHALL TRIUMPH TONIGHT, THE GREAT HERO VARAN, OR THE DREADED ONIJA!? WHO SHALL REIGN THE LANDS OF OKINAWA AFTER THIS NIGHT?!"

The bell rang twice, as the oni charged with a furious haymaker that Varan dodged underneath to slam his elbow in his opponent's back. The fiend turned fast with a spinkick that knocked his jaw and sent him staggering, before grabbing Varan in a headlock and slamming him onto the canvas. The triphibian pushed back up and grabbed the oni's belly, shoving him against the corner and kicking his foe in the stomach.

The oni grabbed his foot and tossed Varan high, punching the kaiju to send him flying across the ring. The audience was outraged, the villain cackled throwing up his hands before running towards Varan who rolled to dodge his stomping feet. The oni grabbed his head and shoved him in the corner, driving a vicious elbow three times across the face.

Bruises thickened on his jaw, the crowd screaming for him to fight back as Onija savaged his skull with a barrage of punches. The fiend stepped back with victorious laugh, upsetting the fans even more as he thrived on their booing. He took a running start towards Varan, the jade-suited warrior gripping the ropes and suddenly jumping high on the corner post. The brigand smashed into the post, as Varan came down from above with a devastating slam, crushing his arm into the villain's chest.

"OHHH, WHAT A MOVE! ONIJA FELL FOR THE CLASSIC HANEDA BOMB, CAN VARAN KEEP UP THE PACE?!"

Lifting the oni onto his feet, Varan made a dropkick with both feet in the fiend's head to send him down again. Rolling back up, the hero in green turned to the crowd with a hand to his ear as they whooped even harder, before the oni lurched up behind him.

A mighty bellow came from the blue-haired kaiju who came running for Varan, grabbing him by the neck and dragged him to the corner to try and cave his skull in. But the hero threw his feet up front, wallrunning off the corner to backflip over the oni's arm, and drive his knee in the back of the villain's head.

Turning fast, Onija backhanded with a brutal fist that knocked Varan aside, before a vicious headbutt to the chest stunned the jade warrior. Grabbed by the arms, he was lifted over the oni's shoulder and slammed down onto the canvas. The villain tried to pin him, a white tiger in a black shirt rushing on to count up to three.

Varan kicked his opponent off on the second count, throwing him back before getting up and flapping his arms with a taunting gesture. The vile oni came with a sweeping lariat, his arms reaching out wide before stopping on the second spin to grab Varan by the throat in one hand, and rip at his spandex suit with the other.

"OHHH NO, ONIJA'S ABOUT TO STEAL VARAN'S SOURCE OF POWER WITH HIS DREADED BLOOD-ORB TECHNIQUE! CAN VARAN STOP HIM BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE?!"

Shredding through the emerald cloth, Onija exposed his opponent's chest showing thick chocolate scales, sweat dripping off in the light before the villain stabbed with his fingers, causing Varan to screech. Blood dripped down his pectorals, a little stage magic where a small razor inside the oni's wrist would carefully open a minor wound.

But the crowd was incensed, the oni pulling out another of his tricks in the form of a gleaming red ball that dripped with Varan's blood. Stumbling with gasping whinge, the triphibian clutched his chest as if he felt a heart attack coming on. The oni stood tall, marching over with taunting gestures and a cruel laugh as Varan swung for his face.

"THIS IS TERRIBLE! VARAN THE UNBELIEVABLE IS LOSING HIS STRENGTH, NOW IN THE CLUTCHES OF THE DREADED ONIJA! HOW CAN HE STAND AGAINST HIM WITHOUT HIS POWER?!"

Three of his punches were blocked easily before the villain backhanded him, throwing Varan across the ring. In the midst of an audience, a tiny 10-year old tapir was sobbing belligerent, screaming for his hero to get back up, to fight back, to never give in before this dreaded demon. Varan was grabbed by the oni, but failed to shove him back, looking clearly fatigued from his loss of "power".

The audience was beside itself in tears, entranced by this muscular theatre as the oni cold-cocked him with a punch, grabbed Varan's legs, swung him round in a huge circle and sent him flying towards the ropes. The reptile managed to stop himself recoiling, but the villain was on his heels and lifted him high on his shoulders, then tossed him back in a crushing slam as Varan crunched on top of himself.

"NOOO! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE! VARAN IS CLOSE TO DEFEAT, HOW CAN WE PROTECT OUR ISLAND HOME NOW?! BUT WAIT! MY SOURCES TELL ME, IF ENOUGH SOULS OF OKINAWA BELIEVE IN HIM, AND CHANT HIS NAME, THERE JUST MIGHT BE A CHANCE!"

Varan always loved this bit. He tried to hide his smile in the canvas, crumpling up in foetal position as he heard his name slowly rippling through the audience. Louder and louder, the murmur became a river, filtering across the dark as he wheezed with a soft look at a small tapir by the ringside. The look in his eyes was burning with hope, a passionate scream repeating the name of his hero. An ocean of sound overwhelmed his senses.

"WHAT IS THIS?!" the oni barked throwing his hands. "YOU THINK YOUR SO-CALLED HERO CAN EVEN STAND WITHOUT HIS BLOOD-ESSENCE?! FOOLS! ALL IS TOLD IN THE BLOOD, WITHOUT IT YOU ALL SHALL PERISH BENEATH MY NEW THRONE!"

"YOU'RE THE FOOL ROUND HERE!" The voice of Varan called out behind him. "THERE IS ONE POWER, GREATER THAN THAT OF BLOOD!"

Arising onto his feet, a sudden breath filled Varan's lungs as he flexed his muscular pecs from the ripped spandex suit. He felt the fluttering sigh of a dozen girls, and boys, with the sight of his taut glistening chest.

"IT'S THE POWER OF THE SOUL, THE SPIRIT OF OKINAWA! AND THESE CREATURES, THEY BELIEVE IN ME, AND THEIR SOULS GIVE ME STRENGTH!"

"AND WHAT DO YOU STAND FOR, WORM?!" shouted back the fiend. "DO YOU STAND TO BE MY CONQUEST, ANOTHER SPECK TO BLIGHT MY VISION?!"

"TO KEEP OUR ISLANDS STRONG AND FREE! FOR THE SEA SHALL WELCOME ALL, AND WASH THE HATRED AWAY!"

With a sudden roar of brimming energy, Varan dodged under the oni's sweeping kick to grab his leg and swing him hard across the ring. The villain rolled back on his feet and threw a mighty punch that staggered the reptile briefly, who countered by grabbing the fiend's belly and lifting him high with both arms for a crushing slam. The villain bounced off the canvas, perfectly in-line for another savage dropkick that threw him against the corner.

Varan charged with a second dropkick, but this time locking both feet around Onija's head in a pincer-clench. Planting his hands on the floor, he backflipped the enemy straight over his body and sent him down headfirst into the floor. The oni roared with bilious rage, as he shot up with desperate strength and made a spinning lariat that clocked Varan twice, and knocked him back into the corner.

The warrior in his torn emerald suit gripped himself waiting for the right moment, the oni charging into his thrusting kick before Varan climbed up on the corner post, and spread out his membranous wings. The crowd screeched with joy when the hero launched through the air in a gliding tackle, the wind fluttering beneath his flaps before swooping down to grab the oni, lift him higher above the ring, and came down spiralling with a colossal piledriver.

The deafening boom of his impact sent shockwaves through the audience, the ropes shuddering with an uproar from his fans as the dust soon cleared and Varan pinned the oni on his head. The referee came in, tapped three times, and declared the winner when the villain slumped.

"HE DID IT! BY GODS HE DID IT! VARAN THE UNBELIEVABLE HAS ANOTHER VICTORY UNDER HIS BELT! THE HOPES OF OKINAWA HAVE STRENGTHENED HIM ONCE AGAIN, WITH THE POWER OF HIS KITAMI PILEDRIVER SENDING JUSTICE THROUGH THE ISLES!"

"VARAN! VARAN! VARAN! VARAN!"

Smiling to the crowd, the hero of Ryukyon pumped his fists with a bruised smile, a swollen eye, and a battered chest with blood dripping down. This was his world. This was his home and these were his creatures. Even the oni at his feet would smile, a rival and friend who served to uphold the legend of Varan, defender of the isles, as the light bathed them in joy.

===============

July 7th, 1988

The skies of Okinawa rang blue, reflecting the open sea where ships and their sails mirrored the clouds above their heads. The call of their horns bellowed to the shore as a lone figure stood at his apartment window. A brown smooth-scaled kaiju with stubby reptilian snout, pale spikes like a mohawk, and a bunched-grape pattern of bruises forming down his cheek and belly.

"Not lost any teeth?" he grinned pearly whites at his mirror. "Nice...still a sexy mutherfucker."

Hunched over his sink and naked all the way down, Sanjin Obakimura had just hit his thirties and looked no worse for wear, grabbing a bottle of gel to rub over his head spikes for that extra sheen. Brushing his teeth and washing his hands, he stepped out into the small living room with a futon, a cupboard, and a boxy little TV with an aerial laid.

A single shelf made up the kitchen, with one cooker, a sink and a fridge. The walls were covered in posters of famous wrestlers jumping from the ropes, hiding the scars and cracked holes lying underneath, a portable radio sat beside the sink that Sanjin clicked on.

"Gooood morning Ryukyooooon, it's a balmy beautiful 87 degrees, and we are raring to go with some CLASSIC American jams for all our friends down at the Paul Bunyan Memorial Base! Coming up, we've got an old favourite from Thornbrain to rouse all you punks outta your beds so let's hit up the town, cuz it's time to get 'Abstract and Cracked'!"

A melodic guitar swept through the airwaves with a skittish drumbeat to excite the heart, wrapped in an odd rustic '70s melancholy as the singer wove a short tale of two beasts trapped in the same body. Sanjin bobbed his head to the beat, his sharp Okinawan twang scraping on English words as he scoured through the dishes.

Breakfast was a half-eaten pizza in the fridge, scarfing it down cold with crusts and all before tossing the box in the trash. Walking over to the cabinet beside the TV, he brought out a PC Twingine, a beige box with two controllers also known as the SuperTurboGraFX in Western countries. Singing along with the radio still, he plucked out Super Bonk's Return, the third in the series of the large-headed reptile who dove headfirst into every obstacle.

With good vibes rattling through the apartment, he cleared through half the stages of a jungle, a desert and an underground cavern with barely any trouble, along with some help from a blue winged dinosaur that flapped him on to victory. Then a voice cried out at him from outside.

"SAN, SAN-CHAAAAAN!"

"WHUT?!"

He paused the game and lumbered to the bathroom window, a spotted rabbit waving up from the beachside road.

"WHERE ARE YOU, YOU GOT WORK TODAY!"

"NAW I DON'T!" he snorted. "SHOP'S CLOSED CUZ O' ROADWORKS!"

"THEY FIXED THE ROADS EARLY, DIDN'TCHA GET MY NOTE?!"

"WHUT NOTE?!"

"THE ONE AT YER DOOR YOU DUMBASS!"

Grumbling to himself, Sanjin went to his letterbox in the front door and found a note had been slipped inside that he read.

"Awwww F-FUCKiN' GOTDAMMIT!"

He ran back to the window and shouted down at the hare.

"UHH, I GOT YER NOTE! CAN Y'ALL WAIT TEN MORE MINUTES?!"

"NO, HURRY UP!"

"BUT I JUST STARTED A NEW GAME ON SUPER BOOOONK!"

"I DON'T CARE, WANIKAMA'S GONNA CHEW YER ASS IF YOU DON'T GET DOWN 'ERE!"

"FUCK! A-ALRIGHT, FIVE MINUTES!"

"TWO MINUTES, THEN I'M GOING!"

The good vibes were gone in an instant, as he rushed back inside and tore through the next level which a fortress for a dastardly dragon. He already knew the pattern for dodging his attacks, but was forced to miss out the secret rooms and finished the level in record time, with hands shaking and eyes sharp until he bonked the dragon to oblivion.

With his progress saved, console off, and radio silent, he jumped to the closet and grabbed a white tank top with red pants before heading out to the waiting rabbit. The roads of central Ryukyon were clean only by their lack of traffic, with low boxy buildings that allowed the sun to come through and not a single skyscraper in the small island town.. The tallest thing in the land were two giant smokestacks of the nuclear power plant, far in the hills and swarming the air with that fresh homely scent of baked plutonium.

Walking down from the northeast, they saw a circular street that wrapped round a Lucky M Mart which sat on the corner, and the Diamonds cabaret club opposite where a cricket in negligee waved from the front. South of this was a small river that cut an S-shape through the town, under the roadbridge which in turn was beneath the raised tracks of a single train, trundling by with a clatter that warmed their hearts.

Passing them by were various creatures dressed in long shirts, a few posers with bright pink specs and shocking purple blazers with very pronounced shoulders. A cow carried a boombox to her ear, a large cassette the size of a book spinning its wheels inside blasting French hip-hop. Further south was the main road, where on the other side an outdoor mall stood packed full of shops.

"There you are!"

A scowling one-armed crocodile greeted them in the shade, wearing suspenders and a blue shirt.

"Thuh fuck you been San-kun?!"

"Sorry, sorry boss," Sanjin bowed, "I didn't get thuh note, Ina-han sent it but I only saw this morn-"

"Ah ain't here fer yer damn life story now git yer scaly ass in thurr!"

The croc grabbed his head and shoved him down the mall, which was almost bursting with tourists from the US and Korea. Jackalopes flipped through postcards of Okinawan beaches; cactus-thorned cats sipped fruity drinks at a stall; and mountain lions tried on straw hats for laughs. A winged horse and a nine-tailed fox savoured their bowl of noodles, whilst their children played hide-and-seek between tables.

Through the outdoor mall, Sanjin found his workplace at a knick-knack store, full of cheap trinkets for either whimsical tourists who enjoyed this sort of thing, or desperate families who forgot to get a souvenir and needed something in five minutes. The shelves were stuffed with postcards of local sights, mini-statues of shisa lion-dogs, and woven necklaces made from seashells.

The rabbit Ina-chan waved him off and went to her work next door. Sanjin didn't hate this job, he just found it immensely boring as he sat back behind the wooden desk staring across the emptier-than-usual cabinets. Profits had turned good in the coming autumn, thanks to the clearance sale that flushed out the older dusty trinkets and make space for new things.

In the back room Wanikama sat at a workbench with his tools, putting a small stone turtle in a vice that he carefully applied two googly eyes to the front. No one came in for thirty minutes, a radio in the back playing a soccer match as Sanjin yawned.

"When tourist season's over you'll git time fer a nap!" shouted the croc.

"Awww Wani-han," the lizard looked back, "tourist season ain't never been over since we got them 'mericans in!"

"Exactly, an' until they move that thurr base y'all gonna suck thurr wallets dry, monsters love all this kitschy shit."

With a heavy sigh, Obakimura sat back and pulled up a newspaper from under the counter. A souring headline plastered across the front page made him sneer in disgust, a notable picture of several kaiju brandishing a flag with the silhouette of a white island.

EMPIRE OF MU EXPECTS WHITE ICTHYMAS CELEBRATION

In preparation for the Okinawan election, the "Empire of Mu" Party is drumming up support in the coming months to pull in voters for their pro-nationalist platform. Despite their controversial views, as well as their opposition against the installation of American bases, the Mu Party won a comfortable lead ahead of other parties by a 41% vote share.

"Our party continues to stand for Okinawa," said Dr. Mantarou Daija (39), leader of the Mu Party, "the kaiju of these fair isles cast their votes against the continuing erosion of Japanese culture. We made our stance clear in the Kankoran War that we would not tolerate transgressions against our country, and if we are to protect our home from events like the Tokyo Olympics massacre, than the first step is to maintain a tighter control over who has the privilege to be in our country."

Dr. Daija, a noted nuclear physicist, established the party in 1980 after retiring from government work, where his platform has since resonated with Okinawans in a surprising upturn of votes, after winning their first election in 1984. Voters attest to Daija's rigorous acumen and bold speeches as a favourable attraction over other parties.

"Oh you readin' mah paper?" Wanikama looked round the door. "Thought it'd be too high-brow fer ya."

"I forgot my gaming mag at home, I'll remember tomorrah."

"Hope you youngsters get yer thumb out an' vote this tahm."

"I fuckin' voted last year!" Sanjin waved the paper at him. "Don't you put that shit on us, only reason thuh gotdamn vashers won is cuz all them other parties were fightin' amongst themselves!"

"Yeaaaah, yer righ'." The old croc rubbed his head. "Politics suck, easy to get tired of but thuh moment you let yer guard down, bad shit goes unaccounted fer."

The bell rang at the front door as in stepped two monsters, a possum in a summer dress with horn-rimmed glasses, and a portly-looking trout with furry scales under a polo shirt. Their murmurs in Midwest American were as quiet as a cherry bomb in a toilet, the possum picking up a small wooden box that resembled an island with a tree.

"//Oh my gosh George LOOK at this!//"

"//Mavis keep it down, you show too much excitement they'll scalp you.//"

"//But it's so CUTE, oh we can keep all our vacation pennies in it! It'd look perfect right next to our bed.//"

"//Alright, let me handle this.//"

George the fur-bearing trout stepped up towards Sanjin and shouted politely as he could.

"//EXCUSE ME, DO YOU SPEAK AMERICAN?//"

"//Uhhh, yeah?//" Sanjin licked his fangs. "//How can I help sir?//"

"//WHAT IS THIS MADE OF?//" the customer brought over a money tin. "//IS THIS LOCAL WOOD?//"

"//Yeah, it's uhhh, made from, sea wood.//"

"//Ohhh you hear that honey?!" gasped Mavis. "It's sea wood!//"

"//You mean driftwood dear,//" the trout looked back.

"//But that's sooo romantic, just think of our vacation money saved up inside, all that lonesome wood crossing the sea full of dreams.//"

"//Plants can't dream Mavis.//"

"//They certainly do George, my chakra committee said so!//"

"//Your chakra 'committee' said Squatcherson wasn't going to win the election!//"

"//That's politics dear, they're beyond spiritual help.//"

"//HOW MUCH?//" the fish turned back to Sanjin. "//I AM WILLING TO PAY HALF-PRICE.//"

"//No no, full price,//" Varan tapped the price tag.

"//ISN'T IT JUST DRIFTWOOD? HALF-PRICE.//"

"//No, full price! My boss make it, very careful, lots of care.//"

One look at the crocodile with his single arm made the trout feel guilty. He knew he lost the haggling before he even began, and paid full price as Mavis gleefully pocketed it.

"THANK YOU, MUCH VERY!" she bowed in Japanese. "YOU, GOOD DAY, HAVE!"

"Thank you," Sanjin nodded back polite, "you good day have too."

"//OH, honey you hear that?! My Japanese is getting better!//"

"//Alright alright,//" George rolled his eyes, "//let's go get one of them bofa drinks.//"

"//I thought it was boba?//"

"//It's bobadeez something I know that.//"

They said goodbye and left, Sanjin chuckling to himself as the crocodile loomed round the corner.

"Y'all shoulda corrected her."

"Naaah," Varan smirked, "it's more fun that way, Americans're a lot cuter when they ain't shoutin' English at ya. Why do Americans all do that?"

"S'not just Americans, English folk do that too when overseas, sumthin' about that language makes 'em wanna crow about it."

"Why don't you talk to 'em?" Obakimura squinted. "Don't you know English?"

"Ah do," Wanikama rubbed his teeth, "grandpappy Lago's from Maine, USA, but you gotta practice it yerself fer when ahm not here."

"I do fine wi' that, see that ol' guy tryna haggle me down fer half price, I said 'hey, thuh boss made that hisself, a lotta care went into it' an' then he saw you with yer arm."

"Ah heard, heheh." The gator pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. "Makes everything so much harder, but got damn does it work good fer haggling."

"Sure does," the lizard pulled out a lighter, "you do got a talent fer makin' this shit boss."

"I should hope so," he puffed it alight, "took up whittling in Vladivostok back in thuh Great War."

"Sounds like hell boss. Ain't it like sum anniversary today?"

"Yeah fer thuh Mongolian Holocaust...I done mah prayers already."

His eyes faded back into a memory as he tightened his teeth, chewing the cigarette in his mouth before he took a long deep breath and sighed a heavy smoke. Heading back into his workshop, he let Sanjin continue serving customers with what basic English he knew and selling them more tat. At one point however, a wondrous flame swept open the door and he smiled sitting up.

"EY, Zharmina!"

"OHHHH, SANJIN! Hold the door, I feel a faint coming on!"

Rushing to the front he grabbed an old firebird with beautiful golden wings that dripped into amber. Dressed in a stunning green blouse, she chuckled as Varan swept her off her feet, and danced her out the door into the mall as they waltzed much to the amusement of everyone nearby. Zharmina began to sing some old song, her cracked beak and sallow gullet swinging with every step as Obakimura dipped her.

"HOHOHOOO, my daring troubadour!"

"Well yanno, wrasslin's a lot like dancing."

"Absolutely my dear, the theatre takes MANY forms, just as the thespian wears many masks!"

Pulling her back up, Sanjin walked back to the shop and sat down again as Zharmina followed.

"Has business treated you well?" she dragged her fingers across the shelves. "Seems more barren than before."

"Mmmm yeah," the lizard shrugged, "had a clearance sale, Wani-han's still drivin' my ass."

"Ah ain't deaf you shit!" shouted Wanikama from the back.

"Helloooooo Placido!" the firebird waved. "How are you faring?!"

"Terrible, lahk always."

"But your sour mood is part of your charm!"

"Mmmm if'n ya say so," the croc Placido leaned out with a faint smile. "Howsit going Zharmina, theatre doin' alright?"

"Of course," she waved her wing, "an acTOR must always be ready to put on...the mask, at any notice."

Her hand dripped over her face as she looked towards the sun.

"I came to sample some of your wares and I need a PARTICULAR prop for a new direction I wish to take."

"Well look around," Wanikama shrugged, "yer money's always good here Zharmina."

"And plenty other things," she smiled leaning on the counter, "for thirty years the hands of Russian nobles has graced your paraphernalia, by yours truly."

"Mmmm it's graced plenny other things of mine too," he winked at her.

"Yanno maybe they should call you Tsarmina," Sanjin gave her the fingerguns.

"AHA! HAH, ohohhh Sanjin!" she reached over to take his hand. "You two always know how to bring a shine to this old rouble."

"Well, you are my favourite thespian."

"Hmhmhm, you are too kind. Now, allow me to peruse your menagerie, s'il vous plait?"

"Silvoo whut?" Wanikama sneered. "We don't got silver plates here, whut you think we're fancy?"

"AHA HAHA, aaah you delightful sod."

"That's why you luv me."

The croc pursed his lips in a soft smooch towards her, a titter coming from the actress as she scoured the shelves before finding another strange half-mask in the shape of a pig. She snapped up a few other objects and paid, Sanjin returning back to his magazine until the clock hit 5pm.

"ALRIGH', closin' time!" Sanjin crackled his knuckles and stood up. "Sorry again 'bout being late."

"Just check yer damn mail more often," said Placido with a wad of bills, "don't take this job fer granted, ah gies you a lotta slack compared to most."

"I know I know, chill Wani-han," the lizard took his pay, "I'll take a job where I sit around all day over workin' at thuh factory."

"Damn straight, so ah 'preciate thuh smallest amount o' respect from you with mah business."

"Wani-han, no offence but, s'all knick-knacks an' shit."

"Them knick-knacks an' shit is part o' this here town's economy!" the gator slapped his palm. "Mah whittlin' pays taxes, it pays fer thuh roads, yer house, an' them gotdamn computer games you always square-eyein' at, if it weren't fer doughy-eyed 'mericans an' Koreans an' Russians, Okinawa'd be goin' under in half a year!"

"Alrigh' alrigh'!" Varan put up his hands. "I know when I'm beat."

"Naw you don't. That's yer problem San-kun, you never know when to quit."

"Lucky fer you," the worker winked, "I'll be on time tomorrah, promise."

"Later," said the gator.

In the late afternoon, Okinawa always saw the sunset early, the sky turning rosy pink as the sound of crows cawing from the rooftops could be heard, sharing lewd jokes and terrible news. Sanjin wandered down the mall, seeing Ina-chan in her bakery styled in varnished wood, flattening rice cakes in the room behind the counter.

"Business good?!" he called out.

"YEAH!" the rabbit waved with flour on her cheeks. "You survive today?!"

"Sure did, Wani-han chewed me a bit but I'm still fightin'!"

"I saw Zharmi-han coming out there!" the hare kept pounding with a wooden hammer. "She find sum new shit?!"

"She's one of our best customers!"

"Mine too, always buys a mochi fer her, whuddaya call it, constitution?"

"I thought that wuz sumthin' you read, not eat! Speaking of I'll take a couple!"

"Sure!"

The triphibian stepped in as the smell of cornstarch washed over him. The counter was full of rice cakes shaped in many delightful forms, from lion-dog faces to palm trees and coconuts. Sanjin took a face and coconut as Ina-chan took his money, the lizard chomping down with a wide grin.

"Mmmph, shit dash good!"

"Gonna save one for Gon-san?" asked Ina dusting her hands.

"Sure am, he done good last night, can ya wrap this one?"

"No prob."

"Thanks fer wakin' me up by thuh way."

"Someone has to keep ya in line," the rabbit wrapped up the cake, "s'not gonna be Gon-san, whut with Ooda-chan keepin' him straight."

"I ain't that unreliable!" he snatched the cake back. "I don't got no direct line to thuh roadworks."

"I know I know, I kid! Take care!"

The hare waved him off as Sanjin chomped on his mochi and kept walking south through the mall. Pharmacies, liquor stores and clothing outlets filled the rows as kappas and beetles savoured ice cream. At the southernmost strip of the mall was the fish market, a large building at least 100 years old that stood tall as the pride and joy of Ryukyon's community.

The smell of the sea wafted from within, the hustle and bustle filling the small corridors between racks of freshly-caught fish. Sanjin waited outside, looking at the clock above the door and tapping his feet as he chewed on his rice cake. Ten minutes passed as he grew more impatient, the cold musky odor of fish slightly nauseating him.

"Dammit Gon-chan where thuh fuck are ya?" he looked down the street. "Can't be draggin' yer heels that hard, maybe ah should just check thuh store-OW!"

"S-SORRY!"

A golden football slammed the side of his head, bouncing off with a roll back towards a young brown mantis with golden eyes and a blue strip.

"Watch where yer kickin' that, boy!"

"S-sorry, are you okay?!" the insect rubbed his bladed arms.

"Yeaaaah m'fine," Varan rubbed his head, "just keep yer ball at ground level, if'n that caught mah spikes you'd be ball-less more than you is now-H-HEY!"

"JIM, GO GO GO!"

A black shadow tore past him, swiping the other rice cake in a hard shove as the mantis grabbed his ball and ran with the thief.

"GOTDAMMIT YOU FUCKIN' SHITS GIT BACK HERE!"

Tearing off down the mall, the robbers head west then north shooting past old apartment blocks and out towards the road, the traffic already stopped when the light was just about to turn green as the boys hurried across. But Sanjin was too slow and skidded to a halt as cars rushed past, a young bull with bronze horns and yellow shirt stopping on the other side.

"THANKS FOR THE MOCHI, JJOKBARI!"

"GOT, DAMMIT YOU SONS O' BITCHES I'LL RIP YER ASSES OUT!"

When the light turned red again for cars to stop, the triphibian thundered across the road and through the back alley streets that twisted down into a small backyard pit. But they were already gone, the bug and the bull disappeared as Sanjin snarled putting his back to the wall.

"Fuckin' shit...well, least they didn't take mah money, s'Gon-chan's fault fer not showin' up on time...might as well check thuh store."

Walking across the river nearby with hands in his pockets, he returned to the northeast sector with the cabaret club and the Lucky M at the crossing. Inside the mini-mart, a white tiger in his 60s wore a green polo shirt and a plasticky orange apron, sweeping the floor amongst garish noodle boxes lining the shelves with chilled drinks in the back.

"Ahhh, Varan-kun," the old cat bowed to him, "lookin' fer your friend?"

"Sh-shhhh!" the lizard waved his hands. "Yer not s'posed to call me by my wrasslin' name!"

"Oh come on, you don't think everybody knows?"

"I gotta keep up thuh mystique Byakka-han!"

"Really?" The tiger tapped his broom on Sanjin's belt. "I'm sure the public are quite mystified, Varan-kun."

"Awww c'mon there's plenny names out there with a V!" said Varan the nonbelieving. "Just try to keep it under yer shirt."

"Noted," Byakka tapped his snout, "you boys did fine work at the wrestling last night."

"Damn righ', couldn't ask fer a better referee than you."

"I'm just glad to be a part of the magic," the tiger rested on his broom, "Gon-kun's already left, said he was meeting up with you."

"Aww dammit I musta missed him," Sanjin sighed rubbing his face, "I wuz gonna wait but a couple o' damn kids stole my mochi an' I ran after 'em!"

"What?! That's terrible!"

"Yeah, you ain't done seen a li'l bug boy and a bull guy round have ya?"

"Nope, sorry, but if I see them I'll let you know."

"...ehh, nah," Sanjin waved his hand, "if they stole my money that'd be different, but mochi? Nah it ain't worth it."

"You can't let that sort of behaviour slide," Byakka shook his head, "broken windows and all that."

"I dunno, I don't feel like that's a thing but if'n ya see 'em, check yer pockets."

"I will, thank you."

The old clerk bowed as Obakimura went back down the street, asking the locals if they had seen his friend and only receiving vague drections. Heading back to the fish market, he saw no sign of Gon-chan as he dared to go inside where the fruits of the sea blasted him with cool fishy aromas.

Despite living in Okinawa all his life, Sanjin was never ready for the fresh overbearing stench as he wandered through the tight corridors of heaving bodies, checking along the stalls and heading upstairs to the more open café area. The second floor had chairs and tables, where monsters and kaiju shared hot chocolate and other such savoury drinks.

Back outside Sanjin went, and still no sign of his friend as he became increasingly frustrated. Taking a brisk run up to the main road, he travelled to the far southeast towards the second Lucky M Store, that had the pleasure of an open square with more tables out in front. It was then he heard a commotion from the stairs next to the mart.

"ARE YOU FUCKIN' DEAF?!"

"//HEY, HOLD ON, SIR, CALM DOWN!//"

"THE FUCK YOU SAY?!"

"Ohh that ain't good," Sanjin muttered.

Heading up the stairs he found the front of a hotel, adorned in black marble with charming glass doors and two rows of lockers for the guests. One of the tallest buildings in Ryukyon, a series of stone bridges connected halls above his head. But his eyes were currently focused on a familiar-looking couple, a possum and a furry trout being accosted by a fox, a baboon and a catfish wearing white jackets.

"SIR!" Mavis stuttered. "PLEASE, WE LEAVE?!"

"Pffft, look at these fucks," snorted the fox, "can't even speak Japanese properly."

"Give, Us, Your, Money!" the monkey spat on her face with taunting fingers. "You Come Here, You Pay Us!"

"//Um, George!?//" the possum whimpered. "//I think they want our money!//"

"//Where is the damn police in this town?!//" gasped the trout. "//SIRS! PLEASE, DO NOT TROUBLE US! WE DO NOT WANT-AAAGH!//"

"//GEORGE!//"

The husband was suddenly threatened with a knife held up to his face, the catfish smirking wide as the baboon put out his hand.

"GIVE US, YOUR FUCKING MONEY, OR HE DIES!"

"You should be thankful," said the catfish, "other Mu folks aren't as generous as we are, they'd have cut your face and sent it back where you came."

"//A-ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!//" George put up his hands. "//PLEASE, DON'T HURT US, I'M GOING TO REACH FOR MY WALLET!//"

"HEY, THAT'S ENOUGH!"

The catfish turned to see Sanjin at the top of the stairs, clenching his fists with a scowl across his face as the couple gasped.

"S-SIR, HELP, PLEASE!" cried Mavis.

"You lost buddy?" the fox sneered. "Don't mind us, we're just giving these two some local advice."

"Yeah," the catfish chuckled keeping knife out, "sum old-fashioned Okinawan hospitality."

"Let 'em go," Varan warned, "come on, you don't gotta do this."

"Are you a cop? If not, you don't got a fuckin' right to tell me what to do."

"You wanna know why vashers like you are hated?! Cuz you tryna gank these creatures fer stuff that ain't their fault!"

"THE FUCK YOU SAY?!" shouted the baboon shaking his fist. "You on THEIR side now, these fucking parasites crawling into our islands, taking OUR money!"

"ONLY REASON WE GOT MONEY IS CUZ O' THEM!" Sanjin snapped. "Whut you think we'll be any richer without tourists, you fuckin' morons!?"

"Kitsuhara," the catfish looked to the fox, "tell this guy to mind his business."

"Sure boss."

The kitsune walked towards Sanjin with three tails fluttering behind, the reptile keeping his stance firm as the fox shoved him back.

"You got two choices. Walk away, or don't. And if you don't, I really can't guarantee your safety, and I wouldn't want a local getting hurt."

"This how you boys won the election?" scoffed Varan. "By threatenin' folks?"

"I'm not threatening you, just warning you that maybe you shouldn't get involved in stuff that's not yer business."

"Thuh way I see it, yer threatenin' two creatures like common thugs."

"Oh, this?" the fox thumbed back. "No no, this is just a...roleplaying sesh, you know, teach them how dangerous it is if they decide to stay."

"Like you give a fuck about their safety, I heard whut yer bosses said on their platform, an' it's nuthin' but bigoted trash."

"Well that's just your opinion. And forty-one percent of the voters disagree with you so, you're either with us or against us. It's that simple, the Empire of Mu's gonna make Okinawa great again, and if you can't see that because you wanna get sentimental about tourists-"

"I ain't bein' sentimental, I think folks from overseas got every right to be here much as you an' I!"

"So, you want these two to take your bed in a hospital?" the kitsune scoffed looking back. "They get higher priority if say, you break your leg falling down these stairs, and they only get a little scratch on the cheek, you think that's fair?"

"That's bullshit an' you know it," Sanjin shook his head.

"Well if the other parties were in power that's how it would be! Okinawans like you an' me, we've been treated second-class to them for years since that damn Kankoran War brought all the immigrants in, and hey, we were here first, we LIVE here. So why shouldn't we have rights above them?"

"Heh. Alrigh'." Obakimura put up his hands and stepped back. "You made yer point, no point arguin' about it."

"Good," the fox sneered a long grin, "I wish other kaiju were as smart as you."

"Heh. Naw ya don't."

The fox suddenly bent over from a knee in his gut.

"Cuz if they were, you woulda lost the ELECTION!"

Gasping in a hard wheeze, the vasher was lifted by Sanjin and hurled towards the catfish, knocking him down as the monkey jumped back along with the Americans.

"HEY, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"SHUT YER TRAP YOU VASHER SUNUVABITCH!"

Charging across the landing, Obakimura swung at the ape who dodged, before the fox tackled him to shove against the wall and start savagely beating his head. The reptile blocked the fourth punch and countered with an elbow, knocking the vulpine back with a hard boot to the stomach, then grabbed the fox's head and slammed him backwards on the floor.

The catfish recovered with knife still in hand, roaring as he lunged for Sanjin with a vicious stab that the lizard swerved past to grab the thug's arm. Driving his knee through the elbow, he forced the thug to drop his blade before the ape grabbed the back of Sanjin's shirt, ripping him away and clocking him hard in the face.

"YOU WANNA START SOMETHIN' YOU YANKEE-LOVING COCKSUCKER?!"

"I DON' START NUTHIN'!" he shouted back. "BUT I'LL SURE AS FUCK END YOU!"

Kicking hard into the gibbon's knees, the reptile grabbed the vasher's arm when he bowed forwards in pain to roll him onto the ground, and pin him in a submission hold. With one arm round the throat, Sanjin twisted the ape's other arm back until he shrieked with agony. The fox then came running to kick Sanjin in the head.

"YOU FUCKIN' RACE-TRAITOR!"

Rolling across the marble, the reptile groaned from the hard boot to his spikes as the vulpine sat on top of his belly. When the thug tried to punch, Sanjin blocked it easy to vault him over his body, a hard knee in the crotch tossing him towards the railing beside the lockers.

"//G-GEORGE, GET INSIDE QUICK!//"

"NO YOU DON'T YOU YANKEE BITCH!"

Mavis ran for the hotel door in a panic, but the baboon grabbed her tail, pulling her back before George the trout frantically pulled the thug's shoulder and struggled to wrestle him off. The monkey headbutted him, socked his jaw and kicked his stomach towards the stairs.

"//GEORGIE NOOOO!//"

His wife cried out trying to rush over but it was too late. The middle-aged trout tipped over the stairs and feared the terrible fall that would come as his arms flailed in terror. Just when his feet left solid ground, and he felt gravity take hold ready to crush his spine, something clutched his body hard and pulled him down safely to the street.

"//A-AAAAARGH!//"

"//HEY, are you okay?!//" said the saviour.

"//Wh-whuh...ohhh, Icthyos thank you, th-thank you but my wife, she's-//"

"//Stay here, it's OKAY!//"

Staggering back to sit down at a table, the trout watched a blur of muddy-orange scales run up the stairs and charge towards the catfish. Picking up his knife again, the punk tried to stab the newcomer who suddenly kickjumped off the wall, belched a surging flame to cover his fist, and came driving down with an English shout.

"//POWER DUUUNK!//"

Falling back from the flaming punch, the catfish stumbled hard with a burning migraine before he lunged blindly with his knife. The stranger dodged his frantic slash, and came from the side with a roundhouse kick to the back of the thug's head to knock him flat. Then he rushed over towards Sanjin who had his arms trapped by the ape, whilst the fox had recovered to pummel his gut with a barrage of fists.

Grabbing the monkey to pull him off the lizard, the newcomer hurled the vasher against the wall as Sanjin clapped his hands on the fox's ears to stun him, before pulling back his entire body with a huge fist.

"VAAAARYUKEEEEN!"

With a mighty uppercut, he crunched the fox's jaw and threw him off his feet to have him fall against the balcony railing, crunching his back like a croissant with a screaming anguish. Turning towards the other vashers, he found the kaiju he had been looking for.

"Hey, Gon-chan!"

"EYYY!" the stranger grinned. "Sorry 'bout thuh wait, Ooda-chan got me runnin' ragged!"

"Well better late than never, mind helpin' me out with these vashers?!"

"Fuck yeah you know it cuz!"

Gonji Obara was a dog-faced kaiju of dark amber scales, wearing a blue denim vest and a pair of jeans with a giant B on the belt buckle. With hoggish nostrils beneath his long horn, his giant ears flapped like crescent moons curved in such a way, that they could close round his horn to shield his face. His eyes sparked like ruby as he bumped fists with Sanjin, before turning towards the remaining two thugs.

"Alrigh' you fuckin' vashers!" shouted Gon. "Y'all got one chance to git afore I stain them purty white jackets."

"SH-SHUDDUP YOU CUNT!" snapped the catfish. "Hime-kun, geddup we're wasting these shitscale fucks!"

"YER DEAD YOU FAT BITCH!"

The monkey lunged first, jumping from the wall with a flying kick that Sanjin grabbed and swung hard across the small hotel foyer, slamming the chimp into the lockers and driving his foot into the ape's head. The punk dodged just in time as the locker door dented, launching a furious kneestrike to Varan's head to stun him briefly before walloping his cheek.

The reptile staggered to grab the balcony rail and almost tripped over the fox barely conscious underneath. When the monkey came swinging, Varan dodged to grab his waist and lift him up high before slamming him on the floor, jumping back to stand on the railing with surprising agility to coming down with an elbow drop.

With a shriek the baboon coughed blood, trying to punch Sanjin back as the lizard rolled off waiting to see if the thug still had any fight left. The ape screeched with another flying knee, but this time Varan was ready as he blocked the kick with his hand, grabbed the monkey's crotch and flipped him straight over his head.

The baboon went flying upside-down just before Varan kicked him straight into the other lockers, crushing his head with such force that the door to locker 13 buckled off its hinges.

"OOF, bad luck fer you bitchtits!"

Whilst Varan was fighting the ape, Obara took on the knife-wielding catfish who came slashing with wide diagonal cut. The kaiju swerved past, kicking the back of the vasher's knee, but the thug held fast and spun with violent slash for the eyes that Gonji protected with his ears, thick and leathery enough to let the blade graze off them harmlessly.

"YA MISSED PAL!" he flapped his ears to stick out his tongue. "CUCKOO, CUCKOO!"

"SH-SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU DOGSHIT!"

In a brazen thrust for the eye the catfish came close, which was exactly what Gonji wanted. His flap was hard enough that the moment the blade scratched it, it snapped open to parry the knife and punish the thug with fire from his throat. The vasher recoiled with blinding shriek, rubbing his eyes frantically as Gonji pulled back his fist with an English taunt.

"//Are you okay, BUSTER WOLF!//"

The moment he shouted, he slammed his fist forwards into the catfish's bonce, right before grabbing his own wrist and shooting a powerful flame that ripped down his arm and exploded on the vasher's face. The force of the miniature blast shot him several feet back, rolling across the floor and dropping his knife that Gonji immediately grabbed to pocket.

"I'll be takin' THAT!"

"F-fuckin'...GODS!" the catfish cried clutching his head. "You nuthin' but a buncha fuckin' race-traitors huh?! You wanna-GODS, DAMMIT IT HURTS!"

"I'm sure it don' hurt as much as bein' stabbed woulda been, ya fuckin' vasher. EY CUZ, YOU ALRIGH'?!"

"YEAH!" Sanjin cried with thumbs up. "Alrigh', y'all gon' wait here whilst we call thuh police."

"You fucked up, beta bitch." The monkey shuddered. "You...you don't fuck with the Empire of Mu."

"I reckon we just did," Sanjin grabbed the thug's arm, "now you wait righ' here, or else I'll throw yer ass over that balcony."

The police would arrive after Gonji went into the hotel and made a call, followed by George and Mavis whilst Varan kept an eye on the thugs.

"THANK YOU!" cried the possum. "YOU, SO NICE, YOU FROM THE SHOP?"

"Yep," Sanjin nodded, "you good day have, I hope."

"Y-yes...yes, s-sorry, scared."

"//We're so very grateful,//" George bowed, "//you're a real hero.//"

"//Nah, just a local,//" the reptile bowed back in English, "//sorry what happened. Okinawa's nice, we love you. Vashers suck.//"

"//Yes I...I guess you can find them anywhere in the world. Don't worry, we still like this place, just...this is the first time it's happened to us.//"

"//Let's head back to our room,//" Mavis cooed patting him, "//you were so brave George.//"

"//I could've been braver...I'm just glad you're alright Mavis.//"

They walked back to their room hand in hand, as the police soon arrived in a sad single car to carry off the vashers. A kappa took their details, filed them in the back with cuffs, and drove off on her way.

"You look like shit," Gonji smirked.

"Whut you mean?!" scoffed Varan. "I ain't yer mirror!"

"Nah you ain't, cuz if you were, you'd be a lot prettier!" the snub-nosed kaiju hugged him. "Sorry fer bein' late, Ooda-chan got them baby-munchies, she wanted me to grab sum o' them uhh baked beans that Americans got?"

"She don' have any in thuh house?"

"Naw we ran out, thought we had more but she get mighty pissed if'n I don't get her thuh right foods, that li'l bastard in her's a hungry one!"

"Hey-ey, don't call 'em that!" Sanjin slapped him lightly. "Y'all married her afore ya done put that kid in there."

"Righ', only time you ever worn a tux!" Gonji slapped him back. "Anyways, you alright? Why in thuh hell you fightin' vashers?!"

"It just kinda happened, I didn't want that nice 'merican couple to get shanked, I couldn't just walk away!"

"Heh...well, glad yer alrigh', you wanna do sumthin'?"

"Mmmm, sure, my hands are damn fidgety so could do with sum drinks an' a pinball."

They walked back to the town centre towards the cabaret club. South of it and close to the river, was a bar known as AQUASKY that was a cool modern tavern with a sleek counter, wooden floor and wraparound couches round smooth tables. A pool table and dartboards was in the back, but the second floor had more tables two pinball machines.

Sanjin's first love had always been pinball, since he was tall enough to see over the board and grasp the long black table. A phantasmagorical world laid beneath the glass, chronicling the tales of the Black Knight who tore through the lands, and challenged all newcomers to face him with the might of a wizard's spell.

Gonji ordered some awamori, a rich citrus liqueur that blended the sweet and sour into a rejuvenating drink. It tasted like sake, but much thicker on the tongue with a spark through Sanjin's tongue as he hunched over the table and pulled back the plunger, shooting the first ball across the ruined kingdom.

"Yanno they made a pinball vidyagame," said Obara sitting near.

"No shit!" Varan cried over the clacks. "Issit any good?!"

"Dunno, read it in Neomitsu, called Devil's Crush, looked right up yer alley."

"Might be good if'n they run outta pinball here-oh got DAMMIT!"

The ball slipped off the flipper and down the drain as he pumped ball number two in

"I had a mochi fer ya earlier, but a couple o' kids robbed me."

"Whut?!" Gonji slammed his drink. "Fuck happened cuz?!"

"I wuz waitin' on you at thuh market, sum boy knocks me with a ball, then this other kid grabs it an' calls me a gotdamn jjokbari!"

"Who call you that?!"

A voice came from the stairs, as Gonji turned to see a stegosaur with amber eyes in a bartender's suit. The black waistcoat accented her large plated spikes, that ran down towards a thick tail.

"Eyy Rhep-tin-san!" the floppy-eared kaiju waved. "Drinks're hella good today!"

"Thank you, who call you jjokbari?!"

"Sum kid out today," Sanjin said without turning his head, "stole my mochi an' ran off, whussat word mean?"

"It's Korean, very bad word for Japanese, no one should call you that!"

"Frankly I'm more concerned 'bout my mochi being stolen."

"You tell me who call you that, I kill them!" she slammed her fist. "No one insult my best customer!"

"Ey-ey, Rhep-tin-san chill, it's all good!" Gonji put up his hands. "Nobody need to kill nobody."

"Yeah we already had to deal with vashers," said Varan hammering the flippers, "don't need a bartender out on thuh street too."

"Hmph...fine," Rhep-tin rolled her eyes and took Gonji's empty glass, "you want refill Gon-chan?"

"Helll yeah hit me up!" he gave a thumbs up. "How's Sy-kon-san doing?"

"He good," she smiled, "at home with baby, he start walking now!"

"AW hell yeah, ready to start trouble any time!"

"No he won't! Not when I around, I make him respectable good boy!"

"You, Rhep-tin-san?!"

Varan cackled thunking the ball, before he felt the looming presence of the bartender with a menacing energy.

"You something to say, San-kun?"

"N-nah, nah don't tilt me, wuz a joke ma'am!"

"Hmm, thought so." The stego smiled taking his glass. "You want refill too?"

"Yeah, please," he looked to her once then back to the board, "thanks fer keepin' thuh pinball here."

"I only keep it for you! You pay my rent with pinball alone!"

"Well I'll keep blastin' yen in here as long as you got it, though yer awamori's pretty damn good too."

"Best in Okinawa?" she leaned in close.

"That's whut she said, your honour."

"Heehee, silly boy!"

The bartender went back downstairs, swerving through her customers and gathering glasses to refill. The soft vibe of simpering pop music, fed through a cassette player, came filtering through large unsightly speakers in every corner of the room, whilst Sanjin was swarmed by the noise of the pinball machine. The wild synthetic guitars screamed to a pitch as he hammered out points and rattled the ball between bumpers, points climbing higher ever towards the Black Knight in his virtual castle.

The board was alight with painted swords and explosive textures that bloomed every time he hit an obstacle, knocking down partitions and shunting the ball into secret holes. Sometimes Obara would get tired of watching him play, heading downstairs to try out some pool against the local competition with half-serious shots and tricky maneuvers.

He never played to win, unskilled as he was, but the joy of bouncing a six-ball off the edge to pot another ball in the pocket, was a moment he savoured on opponents' faces. Once Varan was done, they stepped out of the bar with farewells to Rhep-tin. The sky was a glorious sunset hue, the rose pink of the clouds starting to turn a luscious amber gold that shone off of Sanjin's spikes. Wandering down the beachside road, they passed Obakimura's apartment, and took a long twenty-minute walk to a beautiful little house at the end of the lane.

"Damn," Varan sighed, "you really lucked out on thuh best property."

"Sure did," Gonji grinned, "imagine my kid runnin' out on that beach with Rhep-tin-san's li'l brat."

"Awww...she'd love that Gon-chan."

The home of his friend was a piece of heaven, a few small houses tucked away at the front of a long open beach where the sounds of the ocean never ceased. Gonji's house was front and centre, a one-floor traditional house with sliding paper doors, and a front yard with a stone wall surrounding.

Inside were two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a laundry room at the far back. One room had a large single bed and a small TV in the corner, an octopus sprawled under a duvet with beige skin and a bump forming in her belly. The smell of cold beans filled their nostrils, an open tin scarfed beneath the tentacled mouth of her bulbous head.

"MMMHH, G-GON-CHAAAAN!" she covered up her face. "Don't let San-chan see me like this!"

"I seen worse," Varan shrugged, "whut you think I haven't seen Gonji naked? Besides you still prettier than thuh girls at Diamonds."

"Awww S-san-chaaaan," she sniffled tearing up, "y'all shouldn't see me like this, I look fugly as shit!"

"Eyyyy now none o' that!" Gonji took one of her tentacles. "I married you fer thuh whole package, body AND brains Ooda-chan."

"S-sorry, sorry this baby's messin' mah hearts up sumthin' fierce...aaah, thank you fer grabbin' them beans."

"No prob, amma go play sum vidyagames with San-chan, we'll be righ' next door if ya need sumthin'."

"Alright'," she sighed deflating, "how's you Sanjin?"

"Pretty good," the triphibian leaned on the door, "we talked with Rhep-tin-san over at Aquasky, their baby started walkin'!"

"Awwww! Ohhh I hope they like my li'l un."

"Y'all thought about names yet?"

"N-naw, not yet. But we's decided, I pick thuh boys, Gon-chan picks thuh girls."

"Prob'ly gonna find out soon," the father flapped his ears, "next month thuh doctor said."

"Typical," Sanjin crossed his arms, "always unwrappin' yer presents before you know whut it is."

"Whut, whut you sayin'?!"

"Just wonder why you don't keep it a surprise, find out whether they're a boy or girl when they's born."

"THIS AIN'T A GODDAMN JOKE!" The octopus shrieked sitting up fast. "THIS IS MAH FUCKING BABY Y'ALL RIBBIN' ABOUT!"

"A-ALRIGH', ALRIGH' SORRY!" Varan flinched waving his hands. "Ah didn't mean nuthin', I wuzn't joking m'sorry!"

"A-AH...aaaah!"

The mother gasped clutching her belly as she pulled back into her bed. A quiet sob came from under the blanket as Gonji stroked her head.

"You wan' sum ice cream Ooda-chan?"

"Mmhmm," she whimpered.

"I'll get you sum, don't worry San-chan ain't mad, he's a dumbass anyways."

"Whuh, come on cuz!" Obakimura sighed.

"I-i'm sorry," Oodaka whimpered, "I'm sorry, I-i didn't mean it, yer a good friend San-chan."

"S'alright I know, thuh mood swings an' such. I'll get outta yer way, ya need anythin' just holler."

"Th-thanks."

She waved him off gently, her husband getting a small tub of ice cream from the kitchen before smooching her bulbous head. He peppered down her side with kisses, her wide unblinking eyes staring deep into his as her mouth tentacles slipped round his neck, and pulled him in deeper with a soft purr.

"You uh...you free tonight?" she murmured.

"Maybe I am," Gonji stroked down her belly, "you wan' say in an hour, you just rest yerself and I'll uh, swing round yer place?"

"My momma warned me 'bout boys like you...glad I didn't listen."

"I'm glad too Oodaka." He smooched her again. "Catch ya in a bit."

He slipped out and went to the living room, a low table in the centre with cushions surrounding and a larger TV in the corner on top of a small cupboard. The kitchen was through an archway, a simple rectangle with a long counter of appliances and a window for the sun.

Gonji opened the cupboard and brought out a NeoGeo VCD, a gorgeous black box with two controllers as he slotted in a bizarre vinyl CD titled "Fatal Fury Special". Sanjin picked Franco Bashione, a striking blue viper with glorious moustache and a thick barrel chest; whilst Gonji picked Terry Rougarde, the wolf in his iconic red cap and red jacket with a white star.

"I'm gonna getcha this time," Obakimura warned.

"You wish," Gonji scoffed, "ain't nuthin' gonna stop mah BUSTER WOLF!"

"You'll be eatin' yer buster soon enough cuz, let's HIT IT!"

For the next hour they played Fatal Fury, practicing their inputs on a lavish 32-bit stage showing a beautiful golden palace, an orchestra playing on the stairs in full rich CD-based stereo. Sanjin came in hard with brutal punches and kickboxing moves, whilst Gonji countered with long kicks and power dunks from above.

Out of the two fighters, Obara was clearly the better gamer, watching for Sanjin's character to stop dodging for a cruel punish, or shutting him down with power waves that sent geysers through the earth. But his friend still kept him on the ropes, the triphibian learning to read Gonji's patterns and crush through with a driving kick.

By the time they were done, the sun had finally set beyond the horizon as golden sands turned to a cool silver-gray. Varan sat up at the table, waiting for Gonji to return from checking on his wife.

"Ooda-chan's fallen asleep," he smirked.

"Must be tiring," Sanjin smiled, "whut you wanna do now?"

"Well I reckon I should make sum dinner, you wan' sum?"

"Sure, I'll help if ya like."

The boys went to work, gathering ground meats, lettuce, cheese, tomatoes and sour cream that would normally form a taco, but in Okinawa was served on a plate with rice that was ready within the hour. With some left over for Oodaka, Sanjin and Gonji ate up their meal quietly, the sounds of the sea still drifting through the house.

"Surprised Ooda-chan didn't comment on yer bruises," said the triphibian.

"She's used to it by now," Gonji grinned, "I make a good Onija didn't I?"

"Oh yeah thuh crowd loved it!"

"Wish we could do that to vashers," Obara stirred his rice, "that's thuh fifth time someone got beat up this month."

"Yeah," Varan sighed eating away, "shit's getting kinda rough...first time we seen it happen fer ourselves."

"I wuzn't gonna step in but, I saw you kickin' ass an', well, that ol' guy started fallin' an' next thing I know, I wuz power-dunkin' sum fool!"

"I didn't plan on it either, I know it's different from thuh ring, but...that couple came into my store, I couldn't just walk away."

"I hear you cuz...we make a good team."

"Yeah...sure do."

An idea came across their faces. They both thought the same thing, turning to each other with a growing grin.

"Just...thinkin' aloud."

"Mmmm yeah?" Gonji shuffled close.

"Suppose if'n uh...we see any vashers happenin', an' we just happen to be in our wrasslin' gear-"

"An' ain't nobody gonna think we suspicious when we already got bruises, I mean...someone's gotta stand up to 'em an' it sure ain't gonna be politicians."

"I don't PLAN on fightin' vashers," Sanjin shook his head, "but we can't just let folks get attacked just cuz they were born sumplace else!"

"Hell no cuz!" Obara thumped his knee. "I'm wit' you, it felt good to give them vashers a piece of our mind!"

"An' if we had our own costumes...then we'd be like superheroes."

"But, how we gonna change so fast?"

"We only need thuh masks, an' our belts." Sanjin grabbed his friend's shoulders. "You an' me, Varan an' Buster-Gon, thuh HEROES of Ryukyon!"

"Shhh, Ooda-chan's sleepin'!" Gonji put a finger to his lips. "Also she can't know about this."

"Whut, why not?"

"She don't want me fightin' on thuh street, an' I sure ain't telling her 'bout that ruckus today."

"But she knows you wrassle!"

"She don't mind that!" Obara waved his hand. "That ain't real, well, not real ENOUGH, when we're fightin' in thuh ring we can stop, we practice our moves, not like out on thuh street."

"That's true...alrigh'," Sanjin crossed his arms, "I won't tell her none, but you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yer damn right I do. I don't want my kid to live in a world where vashers get to march down thuh street."

"I don't want that either."

They bumped fists, then gripped each other's wrists before pulling into a hug. An excitement grew in their hearts, a promise resolved beneath the stars. A promise that would change their lives forever, as well as the island's future.

The night was always brisk in Okinawa, never cold enough that anything more than a jumper was needed. The cars became phantoms, rare and mysterious as they drifted through with beaming lights, the town almost silent beneath low-set buildings and criss-crossed pylons that formed webs above the streets.

Most creatures were at home, but a few youngsters were out wining and dining, hitting up takeaways with pot stickers and beer cans aplenty. Some of the more boisterous folks climbed up telephone poles and scrabbled onto roofs, pestering the neighbours with punky lyrics they memorised on TV.

In the backstreets of the outdoor mall, an owl and a cat were kissing in a tight passage. His tender breath brushed over whiskers and her rough sandpaper tongue licked across the beak. They struggled to keep their hands off each other, paws and wings fumbling with a gasp until the kitty slipped her hands beneath his shirt.

"You wanna do it?" she asked.

"H-here?" he gasped. "But we're out in the open!"

"This is not open...but THIS will be."

Her hand slid down to his pants as he trembled. Then he turned his head, his eyes widened in shock as he gripped his girlfriend's shoulder and tapped her quick.

"Heeeey there," a frog in a white jacket stood at the alley entrance, "two lovebirds out on the town, seems pretty nice."

"UM, s-sorry!" the owl stepped back with a bow. "We're, um, do you own this street?"

"Dave-chan come on," the tabby giggled pulling his arm, "nobody OWNS the street, it's a pissy little alley!"

"Well that's not quite true," the amphibian strolled up towards them, "see, I dunno if you heard about the elections coming up-"

"Uhhh, do you mind we're having a moment."

"Where you two from?"

"Two streets down, what business is it yours?"

"And you?" The frog pointed at the owl. "Where are you from?"

"I-i...I'm from the base," the bird rubbed his arm, "c-can I help you, sir?"

"Oh yeah, you can help us."

From the other end of the alley, around the corner they were budged up against, two more kaiju in pale jackets arrived, a dog and a tanuki armed with bats as the cat stiffened up and the owl started to panic. When he tried to run taking his girlfriend along, the frog snapped out his tongue like a whip to shoot out his eye.

"D-DAVID!" the kitty gasped. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Teaching this yankee-doodle boy his place," said the dog rubbing his bat, "you got plenty girls at the base, why don't you hog them instead of touching ours?"

"What?!" she turned on him. "I'm not YOUR girl!"

"You're a kaiju arentcha?" the tanuki put a hand on her. "Come on, why you wasting your time with monsters, when you got something close to home."

"Cuz he's my BOYFRIEND you asshole!"

"Hey hey, less of that, pretty girls shouldn't cuss."

"Bite my fucking shit, leave David alone!"

"I-i'll leave!" the owl stood up against the wall. "Just, it's fine, I won't cause trouble, just let me and Kim go."

"No no." The frog smacked his tongue. "YOU leave, she stays."

"N-no...she's with me."

"I'll give ya one chance. You leave us KAIJU together, or you can watch us, when you're bleeding out on the ground."

"How about option THREE?!"

The dog was suddenly crushed, a large bronze reptile slamming dowm from above with a silver B on his belt, and a golden mask with shining fins from his ears.

"Wha-what the FUCK?!"

"BEGONE VASHERS!" cried the hero in a bold voice. "LOVE SHALL WIN THIS NIGHT!"

"WHO THE FUCK'S THIS?!"

"THE HERO OF RYUKYON, HAS COME TO WASH YOUR HATRED!"

"PISS OFF YOU SHIT!"

Before the tanuki could strike him, the masked fugitive blasted a shocking flame that burned the raccoon's nose and left his guard open for a savage boot to the gut.

"//DUCK!//"

The owl grabbed his girlfriend on the hero's command, pulling her down as the masked one grabbed the raccoon's bat, and hurled it like a harpoon straight towards the frog. The warty toad's face jiggled from the impact, knocking him out as the dog stumbled up with his own bat in hand.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

The masked avenger blocked the bat with his elbow, pinging off the bone with a sting before palming the thug's face to try and send him back. The mutt suddenly rushed him, but the vigilante rolled backwards to let the vasher run forward and fall on top of him. The reptile slammed both his feet in the canid's stomach, vaulting him upwards like a circus trick to land hard on the ground.

When the thug stood up to charge again, the hero ducked beneath the swing of the bat and gutpunched the dog, striking an uppercut to knock him back then clapped both hands hard on the ears to deafen him. Staggering with ringing pain, the vasher fell when an elbow crushed his snout, and sent him down the corner in a heap.

"A-AAAGH, LEMME GO!"

"NOBODY MOVE!"

At that moment, the frog had recovered from the torpedo strike, holding the cat hostage with a bat round her neck.

"TAKE ONE STEP AND THIS BITCH GETS IT!"

"K-KIM!" cried David the owl. "YOU BASTARD DON'T HURT HER!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YANKEE PRICK, YOU TOUCH A KAIJU AGAIN I'LL FUCKING LYNCH YOU!"

"GUESS AGAIN FATBOY!"

Someone grabbed him from behind as the frog immediately turned with an elbow strike. The second stranger blocked him with a parrying hand, sliding the elbow past his cheek, before a crunching fist came straight between the toad's thick eyes.

Stunned with a bruise welting across his face, the vasher released his hostage in time for the other hero to grab him by his white jacket, lift him up high and judo-toss him back towards the open mall with a heavy crunch. He slumped against the pharmacy, struggling to heave himself up before a foot slammed in his gut.

"You get one warning," the stranger proclaimed, "hurt anyone again, I shall bury you at sea where trash like you belongs!"

"G-guh...who...who the f-f-fuck are you?"

"I'm the protector of this island, and I won't tolerate vashers around here ever AGAIN!"

Grabbed by the scruff, he was clocked with a single ruthless punch that knocked him out cold on the street. The second hero wore a belt with a golden V, a black pleather jacket shouting " FUCK VASHERS" on the back in English, and a mask of sparkling green with a flaming mohawk.

"Th-thank you," gasped David the owl, "wha...who are you?"

"Your friendly neighbourhood heroes," he said crossing his arms, "are you both alright?"

"Yes," Kim nodded, "what...what's with the getup?"

"To protect our identities!" cried the golden mask. "Vashers will stop at nothing to break the hopes of good creatures!"

"Which is why we ask," the jade mask bowed, "to not speak of what we look like, for the sake of keeping this isle safe."

"Right...sure!" Kim shrugged. "Gods this is the weirdest night."

"What matters is you're alright," the owl took her hands, "I'm sorry, I should have tried to-"

He was silenced by a kiss from the tabby. She took his hand with a smile and walked out of the alley, bowing to the heroes in deep gratitude. The masked crusaders looked to each other, and grabbed the vashers to tie them up with a rope at the wayside of the street. Over the next few nights, the stories would always be always the same. A pair of masked creatures swoop down out of nowhere and assault the vashers, with witnesses grateful for being rescued and giving vague descriptions of their heroes.

The police were befuddled, and with very few security cameras on such an island, they had few leads other than the vashers themselves, who were inevitably exposed of their crimes by their would-be victims. After the first week, those two heroes sat upon the roof over the mall.

"Hooo," Sanjin pulled off his mask, "that went down pretty easy."

"Sure did," Obara lifted his, "I'm kinda disappointed!"

"Well not every vasher's gonna be tough, thuh place'll feel a lot safer with less creets gettin' beat up."

"Apart from thuh vashers, HEE HEE!"

They high-foured each other and looked to the stars, a blanket of lights covering the isle as they laid on their backs.

"How's Ooda-chan doing?" asked Varan.

"She's fine," Gonji nodded, "sleepin' like our baby."

"Zat make me an uncle?" Sanjin rolled to face him. "I'll be thuh cool guy who lets 'em eat candy when mom's not lookin'."

"Thuh hell you ain't!" Obara slapped him. "That candy's mine!"

"Heheh, aaah...I think we done good tonight. This turn out alright?"

"Yeah, you think so? Same time next week?"

"You know it, cuz."

They bumped fists and said goodnight, Gonji sneaking down from the roof and creeping his way back with the mask off, and Sanjin following behind at a distance. Neither of them noticed a lone figure at a window, staring at them from across the street. A sharp black suit, with long furry ears and piercing golden eyes.