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September 23rd, 1988

Azumi Associates stood in the richest part of Ryukyon, where hotels and estates stood on the hills for as long as the town had existed. The nuclear plant loomed over Sanjin and Gonji, a pair of false mountains that fumed with a bitter but refreshing plutonium scent. Amongst the taller buildings of financiers, the Azumi office was oddly traditional, a medium-sized pagoda wedged between rectangles.

With an impressive wooden facade and sliding doors older than them, they stepped inside to a panelled front room with cream sofas. An ox-spider receptionist was taking calls and typing on a computer.

"Mmmmyes hold please. Yes, the Kujima account is ready to process, one moment I'll fax it over to you."

The computer had two disk drives and a horizontal tower the monitor sat on, whilst the phone was a black desk model with several buttons the receptionist switched between. Once she had a moment to breathe, she looked up to the newcomers who stood out immensely in their tank tops and jeans.

"Hello! Welcome to Azumi Associates, how may I help you?"

"We're uh, we got invited by Kin Shisahara?" Sanjin offered the card he was given.

"Alright, may I take your names?"

"Uhhh...Sanjin Obakimura, and Gonji Obara."

"One moment please."

Still typing with two hands, the ox-spider took up the phone with a third and called briefly to the head.

"Shisa-sama is waiting for you, I'll have someone escort you."

"Thank you ma'am," Obara bowed, "damn you sure look busy."

"Azumi Associates prides itself on running top of the line."

"Issat an Oaktree Four?" he pointed at the desktop.

"It is, are you into computers?"

"Ohhh here an' there, whut specs it's got?"

"Eight megabytes of RAM," she patted the PC proudly, "this is the fastest thing running in Okinawa with a MIPS output of forty."

"DAMN!" Sanjin whistled sharp at the numbers. "That sounds mighty impressive."

"You dunno whut all that means," Gonji ribbed him.

"Do YOU, cuz?"

"This baby's able to do twenny million instructions a second! You can run a word processor, sum spreadsheets, AND solitaire all at thuh same time!"

"It's a godsend," the receptionist sighed, "this thing cost seven-hundred-thousand yen and worth every penny."

"Whuh, S-SEVEN HUN-THOUSAND?!" shrieked Obakimura. "Hooooly shit, that kinda money I could buy my apartment twice over!"

"Heehee, and there's your escort coming now-OH, Shisa-sama!"

"Ushimoto-san," her boss smiled stepping out the door, "I decided to bring my guests in myself, if that's alright."

"Of course, have a nice day!"

"Love yer computer!" Obara waved.

Kin beckoned the two to follow him, passing down the halls with spats wrapped round his huge bare lion feet. His tail swished out like a pale flame, his dog ears twitching from the sounds of discussion behind other doors as Sanjin and Obara struggled to keep in file, trying not to knock over plants with their own thick reptilian tails.

"Hope we're not too underdressed," said Sanjin, "we don't got suits in our closet."

"Well I do prefer your togs to your wrestling gear," Kin replied, "thank you for coming to see me, I was worried you would not."

"We thought about it," Gonji nodded, "an' realised if you really wanted to hurt us, you'da let thuh vashers finish us off."

"Hahah, very true, I hoped my intervention would garner your trust."

Stepping into the head office, the newcomers were in awe of the large heartwood desk spread out before them. In front of it was a low table with lavish cushions, that Shisahara sat at instead of the desk and invited them to sit down. A tea set was already laid out with a steaming kettle.

Plants adorned the four corners of the room, along with scenic photos of the Okinawan sea and the mountains. Behind the desk was a beautiful samurai sword beneath an illustrious banner.

"Daaaamn thassa nice blade," said Gonji, "issat legit?"

"My great-grandfather's," Kin nodded, "Hisamitsu Shisahara, founded the Toho Clan after the Seikanron War."

"Wuzn't that a hundred years ago?" Sanjin scratched his head. "Did he retire?"

"No, his shogun abdicated in protest against the government, both for the war and their edict to ban all commoners having weapons. He laid down his arms, and who for his refusal to carry out orders, the government exiled him to Okinawa."

"Damn," Obakimura sat, "hell of a family...I like yer pictures."

"Thank you," said Shisahara, "my grandfather Azumi took them, he loves photography, had one of the very first cameras ever made in Japan."

"Ooooh!" Gonji huddled up to Sanjin. "Ya mean one o' them boxy sorts that there uh Kitsunihiko Asou made?!"

"Why yes! Are you a photographer as well?"

"Nawww I just love hearing about cool tech, an' where they come from."

"Like a fuckin' nerd," said Sanjin ribbing him, "first computers now cameras?"

"Whut, I think they're neat! So uh, why you need a cane when you got a sword?"

"Because swords are illegal to carry," Kin nodded, "canes are not, and make far more versatile weapons."

"Thought you'd not care about illegal stuff bein' a yakuza."

"We all wear our masks, Obara-san."

They all took a gentle sip, the soft herbal sting of tea trickling down their throats to savour the silence.

"How's yer daddy doing?" asked Sanjin. "You said he weren't well."

"He is on his last legs, sadly," the shisa tapped his cup, "we do not expect him to last the year."

"Shit, I'm sorry. Wait, if yer daddy's dying, that means-"

"Yes, I will soon become Fourth Chair of the Toho Clan."

"...so, do we like, bow or sumthin'?"

"Why would you?" Kin smiled with pearly teeth. "You're not in my clan, at least not yet."

"Confident arentcha? Alrigh'." Obakimura gulped down his tea. "Let's talk, why even want us?"

"You returned my wallet to me, and protected two Americans from a gang of vashers. I'd say that warrants my trust."

"We ain't joinin' no yakuza," Gonji drank with his friend, "no way no how, that's not who we are."

"Paaatience," the mobster poured them more tea, "let me make my sales pitch before you refuse, Obara-san."

"I don't trust no solicitors, always tryna sell you shoddy knives or them newfangled mobile phones."

"Seriously," Sanjin rolled his eyes, "who thuh hell needs to CARRY a phone with them, just walk into a phone booth!"

"I take it this is a bad time to say I have one," Shisahara took a sip, "business is always moving, you understand."

"Oh yer fine, you're rich, we get it, just don't wave it in our faces."

"Hah, fair enough! Well then let's get down to business. I wish to recruit you, if not as soldiers then as allies, against the coming threat of the Empire of Mu."

"Why we gotta join you?" scoffed Obara leaning back. "You don't got enough soldiers yerself?"

"We are spread across the isles, and too many in one place tends to bring the police round to our business."

"So bribe 'em, do whutever you criminals want."

"I refuse to corrupt the public services and the government anymore than they already are. That is not what the Toho are about."

"So whut ARE you about?" Gonji rubbed his hands. "Whut exactly you all do's?"

"We provide for creatures who were abandoned by the government." Shisahara clasped his fingers. "Take the farmers. I provide them with legal assistance, use my connections to strengthen their ground against those who wish to buy their land, or when certain companies take advantage of their patents."

"So yer a criminal lawyer, literally," Sanjin cackled, "you get that money from selling drugs?"

"Real estate...and also some shipments through illicit channels."

"Ahhh so it IS drugs!"

"Absolutely not." Kin sniffed with offended look. "The Toho have never touched narcotics in the hundred-and-eleven years we've stood, and it will not start now."

"You said before yer great-granpappy came to Okinawa," said Gonji flapping his ears, "I wuz wonderin' about yer accent, you don't sound Okinawan."

"I reckon I can sound plenny Okinawan fer you anyday."

They were both taken aback by his sudden switch from the smooth upper-class Tokyoite, to the drawling depths of Okinawa.

"Ways I see it, when doin' business with out-of-towners, it's best to speak on their level. Likewise if I make deals with folks down 'ere, they 'preciate sumbody with thuh same down-to-earth sentiment of them good Okinawan boys."

"Hah, shit!" Gonji slapped his knee. "So which one's yer real voice?"

"This one," Kin returned to his Tokyo voice, "my family are very traditional."

"So whut, you rob highway coaches in thuh middle o' thuh night?"

"Hahahaha, ohhhh no nothing that exciting. Just your regular white-collar crimes such as tax evasion, illicit trade of common goods NOT involving drugs, money laundering, racketeering-"

"Wait, ain't that just extortion?" Sanjin leaned forward.

"We never extort," the shisa waved his finger, "we manage properties and receive an agreed percentage that is voluntarily given, for which in return they receive free materials, protection and upkeep of their properties, which technically speaking...is racketeering."

"An' whut if they don't want to?"

"Then they don't get our services. If they wish to opt out, they give us three months notice and we leave them be."

"That don't sound like any yakuza I ever heard."

"We try to be different from other groups," said Shisahara, "another refill?"

"Yeah sure."

They both took another drink to wet their throats, Gonji scratching his ear whilst the sound of telephones rang faint in the distance.

"Here's whut I don't get," he asked, "why even do criminal stuff if you ain't screwin' over folks?"

"Because we're screwing over the government," said Kin raising his cup, "the entire purpose of our clan was a protest against the Myoji Restoration. As such my family do not acknowledge any government as its ruler, so our methods are considered illegal. But I guarantee you that every yen we make, goes back into our community and keeps businesses employed."

"But yer still tax-dodging sons o' bitches," Varan shrugged, "whut makes you different from them city slickers screwing over everybody else?"

"One, we oppose only the government, not local businesses. Two, whilst other white-collar criminals commit crimes out of greed, we do not."

"You could just be sayin' that."

"Then I will demonstrate." He stood up with inviting hand. "Let me show you what my clan do, and why we must stand together against the vashers."

"Why not just kill 'em?" Obara stood up. "You got swords, you must have guns."

"Because we're not murderers. Would YOU kill them?"

"Only if we have to." Sanjin stepped beside his friend. "It's not our first choice."

"And neither is it mine."

The yakuza waited for them to take his hand, to which Sanjin politely shook as Shisahara took them to his operations. Everyone they met was surprisingly friendly, gladly explaining all that the Toho did for them at their various businesses. Kin would even leave the two alone with his employees, just so they could talk freely.

Even without his presence they heard nothing but good reviews, the odd complaint of one or two members being a little heavy-handed, which was then complimented by how swiftly reprimands had been taken against in a non-violent fashion. But what truly convinced them of the clan's good intentions, was one particular place on the western road.

The Old Ryukyon Theatre was a marvellous piece of European architecture, inspired by Parisian art deco with black and white pillars resembling piano teeth, the classic masks of two birds laughing and crying above the entrance. Through a front lobby with red carpet swirls and wooden bannisters, they found a grand auditorium with dozens of velour seats, and several balconies.

On the centre stage was a familiar-looking firebird, her splendid wings of amber beneath a ragged green cloak. The backdrop of a forest stood behind her, with faces screaming from the bark.

"What spirits condemn me?! Brother? Oh, dear brother, I pray you are not lost as I, and yet...a selfish ire in my heart wishes you were trapped with me. Wouldst this place torture me with your scented warmth, the illusory hope of your presence, I would gladly take it over this certain emptiness!"

"Tis irony, that you foresaw not your fate."

A hooded stranger stepped from the side in a black cloak, wearing the mask of a blind cow.

"WHO!?" Zharmina gasped. "Stranger!? Are you lost too?"

"Lost in fate, but not in way until thine arrival. At the shore of my reckoning I find this beauty, adrift like the woods."

"You...it was you, that...fiend from the night before."

"Correct." The cloak bowed. "I have need of thine eyes, eyes like the sun and moon that part the clouds which obscure my destiny."

"Truly?!" the bird shuddered. "You drag me to this Stygian abyss, this bark-bound hell to be thy vanity?!"

"Art thou not one to the world?" the stranger raised his arm. "What difference it be whether you foresee one, or a thousand at bay?"

"My gift is to share, not to hoard!"

"Even if mine destiny would benefit the greater good? Should one water a poorly orchard, or the one tree that bears fruit?"

"Your fruit is rotten!" the oracle shouted with pointing wing. "Tis not an orchard owned, but a forest that thrives and shelters, just as my words nourish their roots!"

"Then I am the sun," the black bovine grabbed her wing. "The sun that shall bring light to this world, from which that forest can grow."

"Aaaaand scene!" A third voice from the curtains called. "Brilliant, great stuff Zharmi-han! Wani-han, you could shout a little louder, make sure they hear you in the back!"

"Aww shit," the hood pulled off to reveal the old croc, "were mah lines okay?"

"They were PERFECT dear," the phoenix rubbed his cheek, "but don't be afraid to show your true strength to me."

"Ohohhh ah reckon ah could show you mah strength."

"Mmmmm reaaally?"

His one arm slipped round her back as he grinned wider. A blush came to her with a teasing peck as she traced a clawfinger down his chest.

"Normally I consort with boys full of vigour, Placido."

"Maybe trade youth fer experience," he chuckled lewd, "if ya don't mind me convincing you back in yer dressin' room, Zharmina."

"I'm open to negotiations-OH, Sanjin!"

"WHUH-shit!"

The gator pulled back seeing his employee, but even more startled he was to see Shisahara standing next to him.

"Wani-han?!" Sanjin gasped approaching. "Issat you?!"

"N-nooo?" he muttered pulling back his hood. "My name's uh, Gaytorson."

"I didn't know you acted!" Obara jumped on the stage. "How long you been doin' that?!"

"Two years," Zharmina tittered, "Placido's a wonderful thespian."

"A whut?! But, Wani-han's a guy!"

"She said THESPIAN ya dumbass!" Sanjin bonked his friend. "Means bein' an actor! Anyways sorry to bother yer rehearsal but this guy brought us."

"Ahahhh yes," the Russian hugged Kin sweetly, "how goes our finest patron, Shisa-sama?"

"Very good thank you," he hugged her back, "I'm very excited about the new play."

"Oh so are we! It's a Slavic tale very near to my heart so I do hope Okinawa enjoys it too."

"I've been trembling with anticipation! You already know Obakimura and Obara."

"We most certainly do!" the phoenix grabbed their hands. "My dearest sweet boys, I heard Gonji not too long ago stopped a thief outside Placido's place!"

"Yeah," snorted the croc pulling off his mask, "that li'l bastard got away, think he had a friend rip off his cuffs."

"Ahhh, c'est la vie. But tell me, what are you two doing here?"

"We been talkin' with Shisa-han," Sanjin thumbed at the Chair, "y'all know he yakuza yeah?"

"Ohoh yes indeed!" the firebird clapped her hands. "And he's been a marvellous patron, the only reason we still have a theatre is thanks to him!"

"But...he's yakuza."

"So?" Placido shrugged walking off the stage. "He ain't one o' them murderin' types or pushin' drugs."

"W-wait wait, no, hold up!" Gonji shook his head. "He steals cargo an' shit!"

"Nope, all his trade's bought through illicit channels, that ain't stealin' in mah book."

"That's bullshit! Whut is stealin' to you then?!"

"Takin' food an' money from thuh poor, or robbin' thuh dead. Toho don't do either, they only steal from those who got too much."

"Whut're you, sum kinda communist?!"

"If that's whut it means to be, then yes." Wanikama sat in the audience seats. "After thuh World War, ah started to realise whut kinda creatures care an' don't care about you. I've known about thuh Toho a good while, an' they done good work around Okinawa."

"Wait," Varan rubbed his spikes, "is yer shop owned by Toho?"

"No." Shisahara sat down in another seat. "I only know Wanikama as an actor here."

"You try to pressure 'im any to join ya?"

"Hell naw." The old croc leaned back. "He never asked, ah never offered, he respects thuh locals better than thuh government."

"Jeez," Gonji sat on the edge of the stage, "if even you're saying that Wani-han then...maybe-"

"Nah, hold up," Sanjin crossed his arms, "you can't be expectin' me to believe sum group o' yakuza are all goodie two-shoes."

"Sanjin?" Zharmina stepped up towards him. "May I tell you something, about all this?"

He turned to the old firebird who gave an odd bitter smile.

"After the World War, and the Vashendervich Party was defeated, there were still members who tried to kill those who opposed them in the post-war chaos. My acting troupe was one of them, for we had long formed a union that protested against the Vashers, even during the midst of battle. We thought we had managed to survive after the war ended in 1940. But then five years later...someone was targeting us."

She wrapped her arms round herself like a flaming cloak, her costume of summer green swishing past her taloned feet.

"Vasher sympathisers killed us one by one, so I had to flee. I went to my friends' houses to find them slaughtered in their beds, their families burnt to ashes and smeared across the walls. When I arrived in Okinawa, not many trusted the Russians for what my country did. Even though I opposed those murderers, I was still considered the same as them. Even when I joined this theatre, they never gave me roles in the spotlight because, and I quote, 'the audience needs to trust its actors'."

"Whut?!" gasped Obakimura. "That...that's horseshit."

"But then I met this wonderful shisa, and he told me that I was the truest light in the theatre."

"A shisa?" Gonji pricked up his ears. "Thirty years ago?"

"That was my father," said Shisahara, "Shido Shisahara, who offered his assistance by challenging the prejudiced actors, and when they refused he bought the theatre, before ordering them to be rid of their bigotry, or be out of work."

"I am glad they chose to stay," Zharmina clasped her hands, "they were very talented, and we started to become good friends after they learned to accept me. I asked Azumi-san why he stood up for me, and he said 'because Okinawa should not be a place for hatred'. I am only still here thanks to his clan."

"Same here," Placido rubbed his itchy scalp, "when I got back from thuh war, a buncha veterans weren't cared for by thuh government, shuffled off into boxy homes an' forgotten. Shisa-sama's dad helped me set up thuh shop, didn't even ask fer a loan unless ah wanted to join Toho proper. You can trust 'em, ah wouldn't stray you's otherwise."

"Thank you for your kind words," Kin stood up and bowed to Wanikama, "I admit, I've never been in your shop, perhaps I should change that and see your wares."

"If yer lookin' fer cheap knick-knacks made outta wood, then ahm yer guy."

"Hahah well, a last-minute present may be required in future. But for now..." the lion-dog turned towards Varan and Gonji. "May I ask you both to consider my offer again?"

The two looked to each other with a small nod, and left after saying farewell to Zharmina and Wanikama, who took their moment of rest before getting back to their routine. In the stairwell of the foyer, Shisahara leaned back against the wall looking at both vigilantes for their answer.

"We're not gonna join thuh Toho," Sanjin shook his head, "but we'll be yer allies against thuh vashers."

"That don't change nuthin'!" Obara jabbed. "We'll always protect folks who need it, not putting priority over yer business."

"That's perfectly fine," Shisahara nodded, "I am a little saddened you won't join us proper, but I am very pleased to have you as allies."

He offered his hand once again as both of them shook it. To the reptiles it was an odd half-alliance, uneasy at first but with such validation from Zharmina and Wanikama, they felt comfortable around the future Fourth Chair who walked them back out, and waved goodnight as he headed home.

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

November 12th, 1988

Kin Shisahara was now regretting his new friendship with Obakimura. Sitting in his family home, he watched the reptile hunched over a SuperTurboGraFX, the TV in front showing a frightening visage of a pinball table warped by hellish monstrosities. Bulging skulls with too much flesh cackled everytime Sanjin slammed an orb into their eyes.

"Are you done yet?" the lion-dog scoffed.

"Nah," muttered Varan, "gotta get thuh bonus."

"You've been playing for five hours!"

"Mmhmm, gotta get thuh bonus."

"I invited you here to discuss the vashers, NOT play virtual pinball."

"That's yer problem," Obara said from the back, "shoulda known San-chan wuz a pinhead."

"Obakimura, please." Shisahara clasped his hands. "I am begging you, we need to discuss the vashers."

"In a minute," Sanjin's tongue crept over his snout, "got me a multiplier, hot DAMN this game kicks ass!"

"Are you going to have to sleep over at my estate just so I get a report out of you?!"

"If'n I get to play more Devil's Crush then hell yeah."

Palming his face, the Fourth-Chair-in-training sat back with a huff. The gaming room had an impressive shelf of mint-condition cartridges lining the wall, with stacks of magazines as well as several consoles in their cabinets. Kin Shisahara looked out of place between the two, always his black suit whilst the reptiles were in tank tops and jeans. Obara was sitting back against the wall, fiddling with a black handheld device where a big-headed goat was punching scorpions.

"Damn this Game Gear kicks ASS!" he cried. "Can you believe this shit, a vidyagame, you can play, OUTSIDE!"

"Yes it's a wonderful thing," Shisahara looked over, "only possible thanks to Kuribayante's atomic batteries, the old lithium ones would have been sucked dry by the second hour."

"I never played no Stega stuff myself, they new?"

"They've been growing their reputation in the arcades but only recently been branching into consoles. If you're more of a homebound creature I recommend the Mega Drive."

"Why'd I do that when I just carry THIS with me?!" Obara shook the Game Gear. "Hey cuz you seen this thing?!"

"Sure, damn good oh SHIT!" Sanjin kept pounding the buttons. "Plus-ten multi LET'S GOOOO!"

"Sorry 'bout him," Gonji looked over to Kin, "you got a fine-ass game selection!"

"I like to keep abreast," Kin leaned closer to him, "it helps calm me after the more intense discussions."

"I hear that!" Obara looked back at his game. "Oh, SHIT sum guy with a fist fer a head's challengin' me!"

"Do you have the Miracle Ball?"

"Whuh-naw!"

"Alright, go through your choices, then switch at the last second, he can't stop you."

"Uhhh, o-okay?!"

Coaching him through the game, Shisahara helped Obara through treacherous caves and underwater segments, all whilst facing down creatures in various contests of Rock-Paper-Scissors. Once Sanjin was finally done playing pinball, his eyes were almost dry from lack of blinking as they sat up together and read the latest copies of Neomitsu.

"Normally I would be discussing all this in the boardroom," said Kin.

"Why?" Sanjin grinned. "Ain't this much better, just three guys sittin' around chillin' to sum games?"

"I admit, it is nice...when someone isn't hogging the console for five hours."

"Hey, that shit's addictive, you know I love pinball!"

"Anyways," the shisa flicked through his magazine, "how are the vashers faring on the streets?"

"Pretty bad!" Obara wringed his hands. "Me an' cuz fucked up a bunch of 'em down thuh fish market, two of 'em got their legs broke!"

"What?!" his dog-ears shot up.

"I didn't MEAN to dropkick 'em down thuh stairs," Sanjin rolled his eyes, "wuz tryna knock them against thuh pillar but they just fell over thuh railing!"

"That's whut he said yer honour!" Gonji cackled. "I swear, I done seen it wi' my own two eyes!"

"Long as nobody was killed, that's fine," Shisahara rolled his, "the outdoor mall has seen less vasher activity the past month, you boys are doing well keeping the peace."

"Thanks to you givin' us thuh lowdown with yer word on thuh street, tellin' us when thuh vashers strike become a lot more efficient."

"I said before I wish to help you."

"I gotta admit," Sanjin crossed his arms, "you done good on yer side o' thuh bargain, ain't seen not a hide nor hair of whutever crimes you get up to."

"That's the point," Kin smiled patting him, "you would have heard anything indecent by now from all your patrols."

"If Wani-han an' Zharmi-han trust you, that's good enough fer me. Though Ooda-chan still don't know we do this right?"

"Nope," Obara shook his head, "an' we all keep it that way, she don't like all this vigilante stuff when it's on thuh news, only reason she tolerate my wrasslin' is cuz it's all rules."

"I understand," the dog-lion nodded, "I'm surprised you would take such risks considering your upcoming family."

"I want my son to live free of hate. I ain't doing this just fer Ryukyon, I'm doin' it fer him."

"Hell yeah cuz." Sanjin reached over to fistbump him. "Alrigh' HOO thassa good bit o' rest, TIME FER PINBALL!"

"NOOO!" Kin grabbed his arm. "No more pinball in my house, we are having dinner!"

"Awww c'mon Shisa-haaaan!"

"I'm putting a quota limit on pinball if you keep taking advantage of my hospitality!"

"You ain't my boss, I'll just take yer damn cartridge!"

"Do THAT and I will break my cane over your fat head!"

A small argument occurred as the two briefly fought, struggling arms that pushed against each other back until Obara wedged in to force them apart. Heading off to the dinner room, they sat at a long table on a wooden floor with chairs, given lavish takoyaki and the finest miso soup. Two servants hovered around switching out plates, a paper handed to Shisahara as he read between servings.

"Whut's in thuh news?" asked Sanjin.

"Well let's seeeee," muttered Kin, "election next month of course."

"Parties're better than last time," Gonji stirred his soup, "let's hope them vashers get kicked out."

"I should hope so too, they're ramping up their electoral campaigns with spurious lies that, whilst the papers are doing their best to challenge, the TV studios fail to do."

"Why thuh hell not?!"

"Cuz their bosses said so," Sanjin rubbed his chin, "everybody watches TV, so they don't wanna look biased an' suffer any backlash, so they'll swallow any damn shit thuh vashers feed 'em."

"Well, that's surprising," Shisahara looked over to him, "I didn't expect you to be so well-informed on politics."

"Partly cuz o' Wani-han an' partly cuz o' vashers. Creatures nowadays don't read papers as much, so I guess they got a little bolder."

"Or perhaps the newspapers are more willing to suffer lawsuits, but regardless I understand."

"How come you don't vote, Shisa-han?" Gonji looked over to him. "If ya don't vote, whut right you got to complain?!"

"I never complain, Obara-san." He sipped his tonkatsu. "I take action to help those around me with my power and resources. If I and my associates chose to vote when we are strictly anti-government, it would undermine our message."

"HOLD UP!" Sanjin pointed at a picture in the paper. "That Konnor Kingston?!"

"Ohh?" Kin looked at the black-and-white gorilla. "Boxing fan, are you?"

"Yeah but, he retired years ago, why's he back in thuh news?"

"I'll read it for you. 'Once known as the Eighth Wonder of the World, heavyweight legend Konnor Kingston, aged forty-six, has suddenly disappeared from his New York home'."

"Wait, WHUT?!"

"A journalist tried to interview him at his apartment, only to find him having gone with the landlord oblivious to his departure. A statewide search has begun, and the public is being asked to keep an eye out for him in the region of Monsterhattan. Associates of Kingston have addressed their concerns regarding his mental health, following his son's suicide and the eventual divorce."

"I remember that," Gonji shook his head, "saddest shit I ever seen, even San-chan got hit real low."

"He wuz a good kid," Sanjin sighed, "Kiko Kingston had thuh world open fer him but he just cracked under thuh gotdamn pressure. His dad never recovered."

"That's awful," Shisahara folded the paper, "I hope the best for Kingston then, and he's found soon to receive help. What are you boys up to today?"

"Well I done gamed myself out so, thinkin' about Aquasky fer more pinball."

"Are you...serious, you just played five hours on my TurboGraFX!"

"Yeah but I still got my hour's worth at thuh bar, Rhep-tin-san's countin' on me!"

"He's right," Gonji nodded flapping his ears, "all thuh yen he's pumped into that pinball's whut's keepin' a roof over her head, fer Sy-kon an' li'l Yong-ga too!"

"Hahah, alright," Kin rolled his eyes, "I can appreciate some distribution of wealth if a little...unorthodox."

"We'll get out yer fur after dinner, thanks fer havin' us!"

"Not a problem, my dear friends."

After their dinner at the Shisahara estate, the two returned home back to central Ryukyon. A gorgeous sunset lit up the sands in silvery gold, as they took a moment to sit on the beach and savour the quiet. The next morning, they found themselves in a soccer match in the backlots of the town, as they squared off against Jim and Byul-ga.

A dull cloudy afternoon gave the wind an extra chill, as Sanjin stared down the mantis across the small miserable pitch, with Gonji guarding one end and the bull at the other. Despite his daring speed, the wrestler found it hard to keep up with young Jim who taunted him with keepy-up tricks, before flicking his golden ball to his backheel and slipped it over Sanjin's head.

"//YEAAAH JIM FAKE HIS ASS!//"

"GON-CHAN LOOK OUT!"

"I'M ON IT CUZ!"

Spreading his arms the floppy-eared kaiju waited for the attack as Jim swerved in serpentine, the ball rolling in front with perfect stride before the boy dodged left, then kicked the ball right. Gonji fell left for the oldest trick in soccer, as he dived in the dirt and the ball rolled past his feet.

"GOOOOOOOOAAAAAAL!"

"AWWW DAMMIT, HE SWITCHED ME UP!"

Mantisson pulled his shirt over his head and did a victory slide on his knees, whooping it up with Byul-ga who high-foured him before they swapped places. Obara stepped up against him, and was lucky enough to catch the ball first before Sa-Rhee tried to make a sliding tackle. Gonji hopped past keeping the ball between his feet, and made a daring kick towards Jim who countered with diving punch to knock it back.

Gonji managed to catch the ball with his chest and kicked low, but the mantis was even faster, sliding through the dirt to kick it back towards Sa-Rhee who raced to the other end. Sanjin was so stunned by the sudden pass, that he didn't realise the bull kicked the ball between his legs.

"//GOOOOOOOAL, HAHAHAAAAAA!//"

"GOT DAMMIT!" Sanjin stomped with a chortle. "You boys're fuckin' demons yanno that?!"

"//BEST IN RYUKYON, WHOOOOO TWO-NIL!//"

Byul-ga rushed over to high-four his friend, lifting him up as they chanted their victory in Korean. The match was over, as they sat down together with fresh bento boxes that Obakimura brought.

"So how's things?" he asked them first.

"Pretty good!" Jim nibbled some sushi. "Byul-ga's new job is going great!"

"Yeah?!" Obara flapped his ears. "Ina-han treatin' ya well?"

"Yeaaah she's fine," Byul-ga shrugged, "mochi's weird to make, but I get to beat it with a hammer, it feels great!"

"I'm glad she gave ya a chance, I mean, after we convinced her to let you on."

"Wanikama still give me the stink-eye though."

"Ehhh he's like that wi' everybody," Varan waved his hand, "he's a grouchy sunuvabitch so don't you worry. How's yer money comin' along?"

"Good!" Jim bounced on his rump. "Still going to Tokyo!"

"Whut you all plan to do once ya get there? I mean Tokyo's a big place."

"An' you don't wanna get scammed," Obara shook his head, "yanno that uhh Shisa-han knows a lotta properties, we could have him help-"

"No." Byul-ga jabbed his chopstick at him. "We do this ourselves, me and Jim do this together."

"But won't it be easier with help?"

"We don't need help."

"I don't know," Mantisson rubbed his sleeve, "Tokyo IS pretty big-"

"Jim, I got this, I have a plan." The bull tapped his head. "I got it all figured out, lemme show you."

Heading into their small hovel, he brought out a small box full of newspaper clippings. Amongst the news of Tokyo, one of them spoke about the construction of an enormous skyscraper in the red-light district.

"They're building this BIG place called the Millennium Tower," said Byul-ga showing the flyer, "I'm gonna get a job constructing it, we'll make more money there, it's gonna take years an' you know what Japanese are like, they'll always want cheap labour."

"Well, thanks," Obara winced, "where you gonna live though?"

"There's a buncha flats getting cleared out next to the Tower, kaiju're selling them off quick so we're gonna squat in one of those."

"Huh...well damn, that sounds a pretty good plan!"

"Yeah I can't fault it," Sanjin leaned back, "long as yer willing to get yer hands workin' you should be fine, whut about you Jim-kun?"

"I'm going to be a soccer player!" the mantis pumped his fist. "Any team that wants me, I'll be there, maybe one day I'll get to play Tokyo FC!"

"Hell yeah, I'll start watchin' soccer if you make it!"

"Yer a damn good player too," Gonji cackled slapping his knee, "that keepy-up trick you done over my head, whut wuz that?!"

"The Hydrakion Overhead!"

Jim stood up with his golden ball to repeat the maneuver, flicking the ball behind his leg to kick it over himself.

"My favourite player EVER made the move, he plays for Panathanaikos!"

"Panther-thin-whut-now?!" scoffed Sanjin.

"They're from Athens, in Greece! He's so awesome, he holds the world record for most official goals for a single club, seven-hundred-and-eight!"

"Daaaaaaamn!" Obara whistled spitting rice. "That's mighty impressive!"

"He's also one of only TWO players in the world to score more than forty goals in ten consecutive seasons, the other one being Ohto Hiisikanninen who plays for AC Stasi!"

"Yer a gotdamn fanatic, how much soccer do you know?!"

"Don't ask," Byul-ga rolled his eyes, "Jim's a walking library, I dunno how he even watches so many games!"

"I hear them on the radio!" Mantisson bounced on his ball. "The old electronics place, they leave the radio on in the back, so I sit there and just listen to what's on."

"You know maybe you should write about sports," Sanjin chewed through his lettuce, "if yer that good at keeping up."

"I told him that too!" the bull laughed. "Jim's such a fucking nerd he mutters about scores in his sleep!"

"I did that ONE time!" Jim stomped. "I was tired, the match went into overtime!"

"I'm kiddiiiiing jeez," Byul-ga grabbed his head to noogie him.

"O-OW, my antenna!"

"Don't be a bitch Jim!"

"B-byul-gaaaaa!"

"Hold up." Gonji stood up with ears pricking. "You...you all hear that?"

They all looked at him with disbelief. Sanjin raised his hands and mimicked the giant ears he did not have.

"You don't hear that?!" Obara asked.

"Uh, NO." Sanjin scoffed. "Mind clueing us in on them radars you got there?"

"Sumthin'...sumbody rattlin' a door real hard, down o'er at Aquasky."

"So?"

"...Aquasky ain't open today."

Obara suddenly ran and the three followed after. Stepping across the river below the train tracks, they hurried to the bar where Gonji flicked his ears around him trying to pinpoint the sound. They saw the back door burst open and spotted someone running up the street.

"HEY, WHO'S THERE!?"

Chasing after the figure, Sanjin tore up the junction and just managed to catch them outside the cabaret. Tackling the stranger, he grabbed them against the wall to find a familiar-looking falcon, a flaming mohawk and a single arm trying to push him back.

"Hey! I recognise you!"

"Congrats," she sneered, "you caught me. But you're not gonna save them."

"Save who, whut're you up to?! Why you runnin' from thuh bar?!"

"Just needed some ash...to grit my wheels."

"WHUT?!"

"We're cleaning out this town...one way or another, and you race-traitors...you'll be next after them."

Her smile grew as a waking horror gripped his mind, before throwing her down and racing back to where Obara stood with the two youths.

"GON-CHAN, GONJI GET AWAY!"

"WHUT?!"

"SUMTHIN'S WRONG, THUH BAR, IT'S GONNA-"

Time stopped when he heard the explosion. He heard them in movies before, but he had never known how deafening a blast could be in real life. A white flare blinded him as Gonji, Jim and Byul-ga were thrown by the shockwave that slammed them against the wall, on the other side of the street. Inside the Lucky M, Byakka-san grabbed the shelves he was stacking and fell hard against the chilled cabinets. The cabaret club shook with such violence, that half the tables shifted and everyone staggered with screams.

Four streets away, Wanikama suddenly collapsed, clutching his chest as the bomb triggered an old ancient fear. It was 1936. He was 24 years old, and the phantom pain had returned from a small grenade he had not seen. He grabbed at his stump, screaming in his workshop and once more deep in Siberia. A Vasher had found him, his sobs ringing above the shells, as adrenaline took hold of him.

That same adrenaline came back with a vengeance. Grabbing the door, Wanikama charged out the shop, clutching his missing arm, the taste of blood singing metal on his tongue. The cobblestones turned into faces, all of whom pointed a gun at his head expecting an easy kill. A thousand smiles spitting Russian at him, before red filled his ears. Now he was here in 1988, and 1936 at the same time, stumbling over corpses of that same vasher, his dozen bodies turned into stone.

He never looked back at the crowd behind him, racing across the road, heading towards the fire. Tongues of flame wreathed across the Aquasky, crackling windows and devouring wood, as screams rang through the air. No one heard Wanikama's fear, his horror, the shrieking howl that wrapped round his heart. The smell of the desert burned his eyes. But the stench of the mass graves burned his soul.

"GET SOME WATER!" roared the gator. "YOU, GO TO THE CABARET AND GET BLANKETS, INA-HAN GET THE DOCTOR!"

"B-BUT, BU-"

"THAT'S A GODDAMN ORDER!"

His teeth almost covered her head, a primal shadow as she ran almost on all fours, a shriek of her ancestry begging her to flee. The crocodile hurried towards the scene where Obara, Jim and Byul-ga sat dazed on the street, whilst Sanjin kicked down the front door.

"SANJIN, STOP!"

In 1936, Placido had seen the cruellest fire that scorched the Gobi Desert. For a moment Sanjin wore the face of a corporal, a wooden mask shaped like a cow. They had never spoke, never met, but he knew it was a Chinese soldier, an ally from another platoon, a bandage across his eyes. His arm reached out too late, and the cow turned into a screaming shadow. Black fingers stared back from his own hand. But not in 1988.

He grabbed Sanjin just before the door fell, and pulled him back from the roaring flame as the backdraft swarmed the front from the fresh oxygen sucked in. Fires rose higher as locals gathered in shock and awe at the devastation, but when they heard the screams from inside, the tears would still come.

"YOU ALRIGH'?!" Wanikama shouted.

"V-VASHER, THUH FUCKIN' VASHERS!" Sanjin screamed.

"DEAL WI' THAT LATER, WE NEED TO GIT THEM OUT!"

"GON-CHAN!"

Varan rushed over to his friend, still woozy with Byul-ga hugging Jim who was shaking through his limbs.

"LOOK AFTER THESE TWO, ME AN' WANI-HAN ARE GOIN' IN!"

"WHUT, NO!" Gonji shouted. "LEMME DO IT, I-"

"YOU STAY THUH FUCK HERE AN' KEEP 'EM SAFE!"

Blankets were brought from the cabaret club as Wanikama doused them with water, wrapped one round his body and giving the other to Sanjin before heading in. The bar was in blazes, bottles scattered in shards and tables cracked beneath falling beams. The entire second floor was starting to crumble, the pinball machines sliding with a dangerous tilt.

Through the back of the bar, the living quarters could be reached for the Yun family who lived on the ground floor. Their cries echoed through the narrow hall, the flames lashing the walls and licking across their blankets. The hard wet fabric gave enough protection to prevent their scales from drying out or overheating, as they pushed on beneath the fire.

A kaiju could handle fire smoke without suffocating for a while, but if one were trapped inside for hours, there would still be consequences. Sanjin and Wanikama coughed with bleary eyes in the gloom, keeping their heads low as Sanjin heard their voices.

"//HELP, HELP US, PLEAAAAASE!//"

"RHEP-TIN-SAN!" Varan cried. "WHERE YOU AT?!"

"BEDROOM! MY SON, H-HE IN NEXT ROOM, SAVE HIM PLEASE!"

"AHLL GRAB THUH KID!" Wanikama roared. "YOU GET 'EM OUT!"

Varan rushed over to the parents' bedroom which was blocked by debris, a wall of iron and wood crunched together as he tried to wrench pieces of it free. The burning heat made things difficult, even with his hands protected by blankets as he heaved with all his might. But the doorframe had crumpled completely to render it impassable.

"GOT, DAMMIT, F-FUCKIN' THING'S BLOCKED! RHEP-TIN, CAN YOU GET OUT A WINDOW?!"

"WINDOW TOO SMALL!" she cried. "ROOM'S UNDER STREET, S-SY-KON, HE, H-HE GOT HIT BY BEAM, HE NOT MOVING!"

"ANY PART O' THUH WALL YOU CAN BREAK, YOU HAFTA DO SUMTHIN'!"

"N-NO, SANJIN PLEASE, PLEASE H-HELP MEEEE!"

Straining with all his might, Obakimura grabbed the most prominent chunk of debris and roared trying to rip it free. But it was packed too tight, and not one inch would move no matter how hard he pulled with arms trembling in fury. The harder he wrenched, the more his muscles hurt in popping veins that formed a trembling aria.

Down the hall, Wanikama went to the nursery room, kicking the door open to find a young toddler stegosaurus. Sitting up in his bed in the underground room, a small window at the top of the ceiling, Yong-ga grabbed his tail with shivering fear.

"Hey! Hey kid, ahm here to save you!"

"//M-MOMMY?!//" he screamed in Korean. "//WH-WHERE, MOMMY, D-DADA?!//"

"C'mon, it's alrigh'...ahll get you out."

"//HOT, N-NO NOISY, AH NO WANNIIIT!//"

Stepping close towards the child, the croc offered his hand as the boy climbed up his arm out of instinctive need. When he turned to try and leave, a sudden crack in the hall ripped through the roof. The entire second floor of the tavern had crumpled, crunching through the bar and collapsing the wall of the corridor where two pinball tables smashed through the frame and wedged tightly on the door.

"SHIT!"

"//MOMMYYYYY!//"

"Shit, shit, alright it's okay, it's alrigh'...just gotta be smart."

He saw the little window, through which smoke was filtering out as he hurried over and lifted the toddler up.

"HEY, HEY, ANYBODY OUT THERE, AH NEED HELP!"

"//M-MOH, MOMMYYY?!//"

The street was awash with activity as creatures hurried back and forth, the sound of sirens drowning Wanikama as he kept shouting for help. The young infant kept sobbing in Korean, bawling as he grabbed at the bars of the window until someone heard him. Someone who understood him. Someone whose face he would never forget.

"//HEY, you alright?!//" A young bull bent down before him.

"Oh thank gods, kid," Wanikama sighed, "get 'im outta here!"

"Wh-what?!"

"//M-Mommyyy?//" The child coughed through the smoke. "//Wh-whah, mommy, d-dada no' here!//"

"//Um...s-she'll be here soon,//" said Byul-ga reaching out, "//you live here right? What's your name?//"

"//A-ah...ah, Y-yong...ga.//"

"//Yong-ga...alright, come here, it's alright...uncle Byul-ga's got ya.//"

"//Where d-dada?//"

"//They'll be out here soon, come on, just take my hand.//"

Reaching through the bars just wide enough for Yong-ga, Byul-ga Sa-Rhee picked him up carefully as Wanikama stepped back.

"Thank you," the croc sighed, "ah remember you...once a thief."

"Yeah," the bull nodded clutching the child, "wait, aren't you getting out?"

"Ahm trapped here, 'til thuh firefighters get in. Take care of that boy. You got one chance to be sumthin' better."

"But, wait, no, his parents are getting out right?!"

"Maybe." Wanikama closed his eyes. "It's time to make a choice in yer life. Ah chose mine."

"S-sir, wait!"

"Keep that boy safe. Promise me. Don't ever let nuthin' happen to him. Ahm begging you."

"...I...I promise."

The look in the old soldier's eyes burned deep inside the bull. A soft but powerful twitch in his throat as Byul-ga looked down upon little Yong-ga, the frightened stegosaur clutching him tight. Sa-Rhee stepped back across the road out of harm's way.

Wanikama looked back towards the crumpled mess of pinball steel, trying to find the closest bar of iron and jamming it through the tables. With one arm he struggled, lacking the leverage required to force his way out as he strained harder against the debris.

Further up the hall, Sanjin could do nothing. No matter how hard he punched and shoved, the fallen doorway refused to budge an inch. When the second floor collapsed the wall split open behind him, as he dove for cover when the entire landing rammed through the hall and crushed Rhep-tin's room.

"//OH, GODS HELP US!//"

"RHEP-TIN, NOOOOO!"

Her voice suddenly stopped as a cloud of dust filled the air, suffocating Sanjin's eyes as he retched dry between two mounds of metal and stone. Her room was finally open from the broken wall, as he scrabbled over the plaster to try and find them.

"RHEP-TIN, SY-KON, GOTDAMMIT WHERE ARE YA?!"

"S--suh...Sanjin..."

He found her beneath a large chunk of wall, pulling it off and wishing he hadn't. The stegosaur laid on her back, a fractured beam driven through her stomach as she bled thick across the debris.

"H-hoh...ohhh fuck."

"S-sanjin...Y-yong-ga...f-find him, please."

"N-no, no we gotta get you out!"

"NO!" She screamed with howling gasp. "M-my...m-my baby...please."

"...a-alrigh'." He took her hand and squeezed it tight. "Hold on, just...please hold on as long as you can."

A whimpering sob escaped her as Sanjin hurried back through the fiery hall towards Yong-ga's room. A large pile of sunken debris had blocked his path, but not enough that he couldn't climb over as he saw Wanikama through the gap.

"WANI-HAN! YOU ALRIGH'?!"

"YEAH!" he gasped wheezing. "Ah got thuh kid out, he's on thuh street!"

"Whut about you?!"

"Git outta here, ah can make it on mah own!"

"BUT, thuh place is comin' down!"

"YOU GIT YER FUCKIN' ASS OUT HERE NOW!" he roared above the flames. "Ah SAID ah can make it!"

"BUT, b-but, I don't wanna abandon you!"

"Yer not! You got friends up top, yer young...ain't no reason to waste that on me."

"BULLSHIT!" snapped Varan trying to dig through the rubble. "You can't just die here, not like this!"

"It's worse if you do!" barked the gator. "Get yer ass outta here, now, thuh kid's safe is whut matters. Don't let me watch a boy young enough to be mah grandson die before me...not again."

"I-i...Wani-han." Tears burned down his cheeks. "N-no, don't say it like that-"

"Sanjin. Go."

His sincere voice struck Obakimura with such sorrow of acceptance, that he struggled to fight back against. Combined with the growing fear and desperation, Sanjin obeyed at last, and climbed over the hall to get back outside. Wanikama stood in the midst of the child's room, sitting back on the bed and waiting for the firefighters to come. But he knew they wouldn't.

Fire swarmed his room with wings of amber. For a moment he saw Zharmina come to welcome him, her warmth keeping him free from the colds of Siberia. Through the gathering smoke, he saw the wooden faces once again. The bear and the moose, the cow without his eyes who reached out his own hand to him. He stepped back into 1936. And so he left 1988.

"Dosvidanya...Zharmina."

Sanjin Obakimura escaped the bar two minutes before it collapsed. The creatures of Ryukyon watched the Aquasky fold onto itself, a great heaving of dust that swept across the street. Two stories fell upon one, burying those inside with a crushing weight that everyone felt.

"WANI-HAAAAAN!"

Falling onto his knees, Sanjin gasped with choking sobs as the fires kept rising, swarming above the town with a fog of heat as firefighters pulled up in heavy suits. Water-based creatures blasted down the flames and marched into the building. An hour of recovery passed, during which the locals tried to piece together what happened, along with the odd journalist, police officer and medic.

Sanjin sat at the corner of the street, never speaking to anyone, not even his friend who sat beside him. Byul-ga Sa-Rhee and Jim Mantisson sat with them, cradling Yong-ga gently, the bull doing his best to keep the boy quiet.

"//What do we do with him?//" asked Jim.

"//I-i...I...I have to look after him.//"

"//Wait, what?//"

"//I promised that old guy, the croc with the arm? Besides this kid's Korean, he needs a Korean parent.//"

"//But we don't know the first thing about raising a kid!//"

"//I don't care! He's with us now.//"

They looked at the infant stegosaur, his tail flopping out into Byul-ga's lap.

"//It never stops...just like with me. He's another fucking orphan too just like me.//"

"//Byul-ga,//" Jim put a hand on him, "//it's okay, you don't have to prove anything, we can take him to the orphanage-//"

"//NO!//" the bull slapped him back. "//I don't want him to have a life like me, all alone...no one speaking your language, blaming you for some FUCKING WAR!//"

"//But we can find him someone good,//" the mantis begged, "//I don't want to leave him either but, we're just kids, we can't-//"

"//I CAN UNDERSTAND HIM! it's MY choice!//" Byul-ga's face twisted with tears. "//If Yong-ga gets adopted, he's gonna be just another jjokbari who'll never understand why he doesn't belong. Just like me. I won't let that happen to him. Not when that old guy made me promise to keep him safe.//"

"//Is he coming with us to Tokyo too?//"

"//Yeah. He is.//" The bull rubbed Yong-ga's cheek with a gentle thumb. "//I'll give him the best life I can...with creatures like him. Somewhere he can belong a little better than...out there.//"

"//Alright.//" Jim patted his shoulder. "//It'll be rough, looking after a kid with all our other plans.//"

"//Yeah. I always gotta do it the hard way.//"

The mantis turned towards the reptiles sitting quiet as he asked in Japanese:

"Do you...mind if we look after this kid?"

"Mmm?" Sanjin looked up with blank stare. "You takin' care of him?"

"Yes. Byul-ga wants to keep him safe, it's like...Korean solidarity."

"Sure. Just promise me you'll keep him safe."

"I will," the bull prodded Yong-ga's face as the child grabbed his finger, "I won't let anyone hurt him, we're all leaving for Tokyo together, where the money's all going."

"Good fer you." Obakimura nodded. "Glad to see you takin' responsibility."

"Same with me an' my son," Gonji sighed rubbing his face, "fuck, this shit sucks."

"Gon-chan?" He looked to his friend with stern grimace. "Let's go talk to Shisa-han."

"Mmm...right."

They both stood up and stretched their arms, clearing the dust off their shoulders.

"Take care boys," Sanjin waved, "we're about to do sumthin' fuck-ass stupid an' might never return."

"What?" Jim gasped.

"Just keep that boy safe. Rhep-tin-san wuz a good friend o' mine...she loved her baby boy, also he...he's allergic to ammonia. So be careful."

"Okay," Byul-ga tickled Yong-ga who started giggling, "I'll do my best. Thank you...Varan-san."

The adults left, heading towards the nearest payphone whilst Yong-ga looked up at his new uncle. Soft babblings in Korean melted his heart, as he pulled him tighter with a gentle kiss to his head, and Jim shuffled closer to take his hand. Down the road next to the railway's entrance, Obakimura dialled the number on the business card, his claw rotating the dial with hard scrapes.

"Azumi Associates, how can I help?"

"Hi, this is Sanjin Obakimura, can I speak with Shisahara?"

"One moment please."

"You sure about this cuz?" Gonji asked.

"Yeah," Varan nodded, "them vashers gone too far, this will not fucking stand."

"I know but, how do we fight 'em back?"

"I got a plan...but we need backup."

"Kin Shisahara speaking."

"Shisa-han?" Sanjin leaned close. "I'm reconsiderin' yer offer. Me an' Gon-chan...we got a plan to wipe out thuh vashers. An' we wanna join thuh Toho to make it happen."

Four days after the bombing of Aquasky, the news was awash with outrage and sorrow for the beloved tavern. Flowers were piled up with wreaths at the ruins, and Sanjin along with Obara had been quoted as seeing a suspicious individual in a white jacket. Of course the Empire of Mu refuted such claims, their leader simpering with thoughts and prayers and using the attack as a platform to claim he would enforce a greater presence of police on the streets.

Shisahara began preparations for the great offensive, drawing up plans after a long consideration with his heads in response to the attack. They all agreed on one thing. The Empire had to forcefully admit their role in the attack, and then be chased out of Okinawa. Ideas were thrown about, but nothing came as solid as the plan of attack, which Kin Shisahara himself agreed upon. The night before they would leave, Gonji and Varan sat in the Obara household, checking over the map once again.

"So you come in from thuh west," Sanjin repeated, "I'll come in right, Shisa-han'll burst through thuh front to draw out thuh group."

"We go up an' put thuh frighteners on Daija," Obara nodded, "make 'im confess, run thuh story, then run 'em outta town."

"Only one way to deal with vashers. They don't wanna get hit, they shouldn'ta talked shit."

"Or beat up monsters on thuh streets," Gonji sighed, "this...this is a lot we're doin', cuz. Whut if we fuck up?"

"We won't." Sanjin's eyes burned through him. "We took 'em down before, we'll take 'em down again, just gonna be a lot more vashers than usual."

"Gonji?"

They rolled up the blueprint quick and shoved it in the bag as Oodaka approached. Heavily pregnant and leaning against the door, she clutched something in her hand as Gonji stood up to grab her.

"Babe whut're ya doing up?"

"I...I wuz in the bathroom...whut're you both up to?"

"We just talkin' about thuh match," Sanjin grinned, "got a storyline planned."

"Really? So whut's this?"

She brought out a golden mask in one of her hands, stained with blood as Gonji's eyes widened.

"O-ohhhh uhhhh, damn I musta...fell outta thuh basket."

"Whose blood is this?" she asked. "It ain't yours an' it ain't Sanjin's."

"Whut course it's mine," Gonji chuckled.

"This blood is two weeks old," the octopus slit her eyes, "yer last match wuz five weeks back. Don't lie to me."

"Awww Ooda-chan just," Sanjin groaned, "we were practicin' our runs then!"

"I'm studying this shit fer high school teaching. Won't be that hard to know how old this blood is an' who it don't belong to."

"Whut are you investigatin' me now?" scoffed her husband leaning back. "Ooda-chan c'mon it's just a li'l blood, musta happened durin' training."

"Or it's from fightin' vashers."

With a piercing stare she cracked Gonji's face, the snub-nosed kaiju flapping nervous with an awkward grin.

"You figured it out huh?" Obakimura sighed.

"I'm not an idiot, San-chan," Oodaka shook her tentacles. "You don't think I heard 'bout them vashers gettin' their shit kicked in every week? Sumtimes I woke up thuh nights you came back, I thought maybe you just went to thuh bathroom but...I saw you sneak out when I wuz in bed, then come back all in bruises on nights you didn't have no wrestlin'."

Both of the males looked even guiltier, their heads hung low like scolded children as the octopus gripped her head.

"Whut in thuh hell are you thinkin'?! Wrestlin's one thing but yer fighting creatures on thuh street!"

"We're not bein' punks," Sanjin added, "them vashers, they got-"

"I am SPEAKING with mah husband, Sanjin."

He kept quiet from her venomous glare as she turned towards Gonji, crossing her arms over her swollen belly to wait for his answer.

"Me an' San-chan," he began, "we stopped sum vashers attack a couple Americans back in July. They were grateful an' we decided, we wanna help others too."

"By bein' gotdamn street punks?" she scoffed.

"This ain't sum gang Ooda-chan, these're vashers, they're scum o' the earth."

"An' you think beatin' them up's gonna help?! You can't just be like everybody else an' just vote against 'em?!"

"They won the last election!"

"Cuz creatures VOTED, that's how democracy works!"

"Ain't no democracy when vashers're in charge!" Gonji stomped his foot. "Only reason they won wuz cuz every other party wuz too busy arguing wi' each other about budgets, an' not focusing on helpin' out folks!"

"Well it sucks but that's democracy!" Oodaka jabbed him. "You don't get to decide who's right or wrong with yer fists!"

"So it's alrigh' fer THEM to do it?! Cuz out on thuh streets, every time we fought a vasher, they wuz beatin' up sum monster, or one o' thuh Koreans!"

"I don't like them either but just cuz a few punks beat up sum folks don't mean all of 'em are that uncivilised-"

"THEY BURNED DOWN THUH FUCKING BAR!"

She stepped back suddenly shocked, Obara seething with a little flame from his jaws.

"We...w-we were there. We saw a vasher run out thuh back. Firefighters said it wuz a bomb...they killed Rhep-tin-san, Sy-kon too an' li'l Yong-ga woulda fuckin' died if it weren't fer...f-fer-"

"Wani-han." Sanjin said with a heavy bow. "I tried to...I-i couldn't. Place wuz crumbling too much an' I saw Rhep-tin die...she had a damn beam through her chest an' I...I-i-i couldn't-"

"Oh my gods." Oodaka clutched her face. "You...you never told me you were there."

"We were kinda...processin' it. This is whut thuh vashers do, Oodaka. They don't tolerate foreigners, even other kaiju if they ain't Japanese. Everybody knew that Aquasky wuz owned by Koreans, an' every single time them vashers attacked sumbody first, it wuz always those who ain't Japanese."

"But...so you just gonna go fight 'em? Even after knowin' they'd kill creatures?"

"Sumbody has to stop 'em," Gonji nodded, "police'll take too long an' the Empire o' Mu's gonna change their damn story, they already using Rhep-tin's death fer their fuckin' election. We even joined thuh Toho, that's how serious we are."

"Wait...wh-whut?" The octopus shuddered stepping back. "You...Gonji, are you...you're a gotdamn yakuza now?!"

"As of this week," Obakimura stood up, "just so we fight them vashers."

"No. N-no." She walked further back. "This ain't...th-this ain't you."

"Ooda-chan, wait-"

"No! Th-this is...I can't deal with this. Bad enough you were fightin' folks on thuh street, but you're a gotdamn criminal."

"W-wait!"

Gonji tried to grab her but she wrenched him off, stumbling back towards the bedroom together.

"A-alright, maybe that wuz a bit much, but thuh Toho aren't, they're not like-"

"You fuckin' talk about wantin' our son to grow up good an' you joined the fucking YAKUZA?!"

"I ain't OFFICIALLY joinin' 'em, just teamin' up to push back thuh vashers!"

"WHO CARES ABOUT THUH VASHERS!?"

"I DO, I'M DOIN' FER THIS FOR OUR SON!"

He shrieked with a fist in the wall. The ocean waves from the beach briefly stopped in the low tide.

"I...do not want our son, to grow up in a world full o' hatred like theirs. They poison every fuckin' thing they touch, and by gods if I leave one thing in this world before my time's up...it's a world of peace fer our kid. I can't step back an' let 'em walk free just cuz it's easy. All it takes fer evil to win is fer good creatures to do nuthin'."

"This...this ain't your damn job," she shook her head tearfully, "you can fight 'em in other ways!"

"Not this time. I'm sorry Oodaka. I'm leavin' to take 'em down, to drive out the Empire o' Mu once an' fer all."

"You...you selfish bastard." His wife sat down on their bed. "If...if you go out there, an' sumthin' happens to you, I swear our little 'un ain't gonna know your name, or who you were cuz I don't want you in my life OR theirs if you decide to join the yakuza!"

"Alrigh'. Lemme make a deal." He took her hand with a gentle squeeze. "When I get back...I will cut all ties with thuh Yakuza. Once them vashers are gone, I will do everything you want, anything to make up to you."

"Really? You'll stop fightin'?"

"Yes."

"Even give up wrestlin'?"

"Absolutely."

Sanjin looked on agasp at his friend's sudden response. Not a second of hesitation in his eyes remained as Oodaka relented.

"...fine." She pulled him close with a desperate kiss. "Not like I can stop you but...please, gods, come back, Gon-chan."

"I will Ooda-chan. See ya tomorrow."

He hugged her tight, and kissed her pregnant belly before taking his golden mask. Sanjin followed his friend into the night, but not before Oodaka grabbed his arm and pulled him in.

"If he dies out there...I will never forgive you."

"Wh-whut?"

"You never leave his side, I know you egg each other on. Anything happen to him, you'll be my worst enemy fer as long as I live."

"...I promise." He patted her. "I swear, Oodaka."

The reptile nodded with solemn bow as he left. Pulling herself up on the bed, the octopus clutched her belly to feel the kick inside.

"I hope you're less trouble than him," she whispered, "why do you Obaras gotta be so bull-headed?"

The Empire of Mu operated from a lonesome building on the east end of Ryukyon, a four-story complex with electoral banners draped across the sides as white as snow. A long river stretched out behind it, twisting across the land and reflecting the soft dimming violet beneath the clouds.

In the last hours of twilight, six black vans rolled up twenty metres from the gate, all of them packed with creatures from dogs to kappas to tigers and lizards. Shisahara led them out front with his cane, as Gonji and Varan walked up beside wearing their belts, their masks and Sanjin in his black leather jacket.

"Soldiers!" Shisahara called to his group. "Positions hold here! Remember, do NOT kill a single vasher, weapons soft, no blades, limited powers! Every one of them must end up in hospital, to tell the tale and flee, understood?"

"Yes, Fourth Chair!" they bowed in unison.

"Then let's topple this empire, for Okinawa!"

With all forty soldiers bowing, the Toho took position at various points, whilst Gonji and Sanjin snuck towards the sides of the complex alone. A large wall circled the place, the remains of when it had been a military garrison in the 1910s now reshaped into a municipal building. Grappling hooks were thrown over as the two boys climbed, heading to separate sides of the building.

"Buster here," said Gonji, "waiting fer pizza."

"Varan here," said he, "also waiting."

"Delivery in two minutes," said Shisahara, "stand by."

Inside the building, at least forty-seven members of the Empire of Mu were shuffling papers and filing taxes to keep everything appropriate. All of them wore white shirts or jackets, the falcon with her flaming mohawk sitting back in her own office. A voice smooth and educated stepped in her room.

"Was this really the best way to do it?"

"You weren't out there when I lost my arm," she tossed a ball in the air, "those vigilante fucks need to learn we mean business."

"We are a month away from election, and you decide to blow up a bar?!"

"It's where all those types hang out," she kept throwing the ball, "wanted to break their spirits so they think twice before messing with us."

"And if they find out it was us?" A green-scaled hand snatched the ball from the air. "Voters won't tolerate acts of terrorism, nor will the government."

"Daija-san, chill," the falcon smirked, "only witnesses they have are two jackoffs who already hate you."

"And you don't think we'll suffer repercussions from unknown vigilantes?"

"It's all fun and games until somebody dies."

She was suddenly grabbed and lifted from her seat. A long-faced dragon of turquoise with pale eyes, hairless snout and hornless scalp stared grimly upon her from his white suit, upon which a snowflake brooch sparkled in the light.

"I am here to run a campaign, and to clear Okinawa of foreign influences the RIGHT way. Not by blowing up taverns, but by shutting them out, and allowing good well-bred Japanese to own those businesses, which they can't, if you BLOW THEM UP!"

"D-daija-san, come on!" she waved her hand. "It's like two vigilantes, they're not gonna do shit now that they know what we're capable of!"

"I do not WANT to be capable of that!" he shoved her back against the wall. "We are civilised kaiju, we settle things by debate."

"You didn't complain when we beat up monsters."

"A small bit of policing is one thing to stifle critique. It's another thing entirely to detonate a building!"

"I was clearing the air, it stank of fucking kimchi, let them rebuild it and put Japanese in there."

"Or we could have bought it." Daija squeezed the ball until it popped in his claws. "All I asked was you teach monsters their place, but it seems I have to teach you some restraint."

"Look, boss," the hawk tapped her head, "I'm out there on the street, I know what creets are saying, and they're all fucking terrified to speak out against us. The papers say what they want, but we got our fanbase who're just gonna call it fake news."

"That is our only blessing," Daijia rubbed his scalp, "I left the Cold Death project to pursue a better means, reviving our country to its greatness."

"Not because the project got canned cuz our government were sucking monster dicks?"

"You said it, not me."

A sudden crash came from the front, Daija and the falcon running to the windows where they saw several vans smashed through the gate. Creatures in black suits stepped out as a panic ran through the building.

"Wha-...what the HELL is going on?!"

"Is that the cops?!" she shrieked. "No, WAIT, that fucker with the dog-ears, THAT'S THE PRICK WHO TOOK MY ARM!"

"What?!" gasped Daija. "Then...that means it's-"

"ATTENTION, EMPIRE OF MU!" cried Shisahara. "We are the Toho Clan, and have come to seek justice for the murders of Rhep-Tin Yun, Sy-Kon Yun, and Placido Wanikama! You have one chance to surrender the perpetrator to the police, with full accountability, and then remove yourselves from Okinawa permanently!"

"The fuck they think they are?!" snapped the hawk. "Fucking yakuza telling US what to do?!"

"YOU started this!" Mantarou jabbed her. "You have to fix this, Garushima!"

"What you want me to fight them?!"

"If you have to yes! We cannot lose this election, I will keep our documents safe, you deal with these malingering bastards!"

"Got it!" Garushima yelled down the hall. "EVERYONE GRAB A WEAPON, WE'RE TAKIN' THESE FUCKERS OUT, NO SURVIVORS!"

"So they choose violence," Shisahara nodded from the ground, "alright, SOLDIEEEERS! CHAAAAARGE!"

The battle began as the Toho stormed the front, smashing the doors and entering the foyer where the reception staff cowered behind desks at the marching army of suits. Kin Shisahara strolled out front with his cane, the unarmed staff ordered to leave as the Toho stepped aside to let them run.

The vashers themselves, those who would choose to fight, came stomping out of every office door, swarming down like a river of white armed with blades, clubs and a variety of powers. The Fourth Chair raised his staff and bellowed a warrior's cry as the Toho rushed them en masse.

The Empire of Mu clashed against the yakuza, who blocked their clubs, parried their blades and dodged their savage powers. Bolts of ice, lightning and fire swept through the hall, the Toho battered back briefly only to resurge with non-lethal strikes. Shisahara took on the most dangerous foes, the ones with energy beams that tore through the ceiling and ripped open walls with screaming blasts as he stepped in front of his soldiers, guarding them with his solar eye.

Any plasma or energy directed at him, would be reflected back to shatter swords, melt clubs and at the very worst, dismember one limb at a time. As the battle raged on at the front, Sanjin Obakimura kicked down the eastern door and clocked the first vasher he saw.

"HEY, WE GOT OTHERS HERE!"

"OH, FUCK IT'S THAT MASKED PRICK!"

"YOUR END IS NIGH, EMPIRE OF MU!" roared the hero. "I AM VARAN, THE UNBELIEVABLE, AND I SHALL WASH AWAY YOUR HATRED, FROM ALL THESE ISLANDS!"

"FUCKING KILL HIM!"

With a flying leap that grazed his spikes on the ceiling, Varan charged through the first group and slammed his knee into a kappa. Grabbing her head, he swung her like a bat towards three more punks and kicked a fifth in the stomach to send them rolling. A badger seethed with flickering ice on his breath, howling a wretched blizzard Varan flapped over to dropkick his snout.

Kicking the first door, Sanjin startled three kaiju in the bathroom who frantically zipped up their pants and lunged. An oni swung his fist, that Varan grabbed and twisted hard before kicking out the leg and spinning hard to drive his elbow into a baboon. A horse kicked his head with a sharp hoof, causing him to stagger back against the sink before the stallion made a torpedo kick.

He dodged quick as his hoof smashed the sink mirror, the horse turning hard with a roundhouse that threw Sanjin across the urinal wall. Bouncing back he jumped at the stallion's throat, slamming him face first in an unused urinal before hammerfisting the back of his head to crack through the porcelain. When the oni stood up to attack again, Sanjin grabbed the broken urinal slab and cracked his jaw wide open.

"WHERE'S YER BOSS?!"

"F-FUCK YOU, I AIN'T TELLIN' SHIT!"

"THUH HELL YOU WILL!"

Grabbing the oni's hair, Sanjin kicked one of the stalls open and shoved his head in the toilet, coughing sputters and flailing hands as he pushed all his weight down, to the point the oni could taste the pipe.

"YOU WANNA FUCK WITH ME!? YOU FUCKIN' VASHER, AFTER WHUT YOU DID TO RHEP-TIN AN' SY-KON?!"

The oni's screams gargled up from the bowl as he tried to kick back.

"ALL THEY WANTED WUZ TO LIVE IN FUCKIN' PEACE, AN' YOU FUCKING SCUM KILLED 'EM!"

Finally the thug raised his hands in desperate plea, as Sanjin pulled him back to watch him cough with heaving retch.

"B-boss is...t-top floor, room at the very back."

"Good."

Sanjin headbutted him hard to knock him unconscious, before stepping out of the stall.

"That wuz fer Wani-han, you fuck-faced cunt."

On the far west of the building, Gonji Obara was doing the same, barraging a wolf with a flurry of punches before headbutting his skull. A tiger screamed with flying punch that he blocked with his ears, parrying hard to make her stagger before blasting his fist full of fire, and crushing her snout with a Buster Wolf punch that sent her flying down the hall.

Running towards her as she kept flying, Obara kicked her chest through the door and ripped it off its hinges, finding a lunch room with several vashers who came at him with knives. The first one he grabbed by the wrist and slammed his knee through the arm to make her drop the knife; the second thug he dodged before slamming the vasher's head into the wall.

The third and final stabber jumped off a table and managed to slash Gonji's shoulder, blood streaming from his scales as he grabbed the thug's neck and walloped him with an uppercut. One of the other punks on the floor lunged for his leg, but he stomped her hand and kicked her face before charging to the next room.

"WE GOT ANOTHER ONE HERE!"

"STOP HIM, SOMEBODY FUCKING KILL 'IM!"

"NOTHING WILL STOP THE MIGHT OF BUSTER-GON!" cried the hero. "YOUR DAY HAS COME FOR THE GREAT INJUSTICE YOU COMMITTED!"

With a furious cry Obara kicked another door, crushing the head of the vasher about to open it as he stormed through an office. A shark managed to clock him from the side, throwing him against a table and twisting an arm behind Gonji's back. Grabbing a pair of scissors, he frightened the punk with a backwards stab to make him reel back, before stomping on the shark's foot.

The vasher did not let him go, as a crab came rushing to punch the bound Gonji who bowed forwards, the crustacean swinging his claw at the shark's head by accident as Obara twisted out of his grip. With a rising uppercut, he knocked the crab back, then horsekicked behind him to slam the shark into the wall, before throwing the scissors towards an advancing shiba who yelped and ducked.

Stopping the dog in her tracks, Gonji came rushing with a hard knee to her skull that knocked her on her back, grabbing a chair with mighty swing to clash against a kitsune with a bat. The weight of his weapon knocked the club out the fox's hands, enough for Obara to spin twice and batter the thug sideways with the chair, before hurling it at the window to smash through.

"ALRIGH' YOU FUCKS, WHICH ONE O' YOUS KNOWS WHERE YER BOSS IS?!"

Sanjin was marching his way to the top, punching fools and wrecking thugs who in turn battered and bruised him. Through halls and offices he tossed them through doors and smashed them into desks. Sometimes one got lucky, or a few would overpower him briefly with savage stomps to the head. But always he got back up, through sheer righteous fury.

A few vashers were even sent through windows, flying out to hit the wall outside or crumple into the grass, whilst the Toho were out front clearing the ground floor. The Empire's main force were pushing them back, Shisahara blocking a katana and twisting hard with a riposte before stabbing the thug's head with his blunt cane tip. Another thug came swinging with a bat, Kin dodging with a ruthless swipe for the legs and crushing down on the falling head.

The sounds of violence filled the offices, as Gonji and Varan worked their way through the back halls getting closer to each other's position. With chairs broken, desks split in half, and knives strewn across the corridors, the two finally met up kicking down into the same stairway.

"HEY CUZ!"

"Sup?!" Sanjin waved with bloodied nose. "You good?"

"Yeah!" Obara grinned with blackened ears. "Vashers said their boss wuz-"

"Upstairs, yeah, let's do it!"

"FOR OKINAWAAAA!"

They bumped fists and raced up the stairs, Sanjin out in front with his larger bulk as he took on a frog that belched fire towards him. Sliding under the flame, he kicked out the toad's legs as Gonji followed up with a flying kick slamming the frog down the hall. A boar grabbed Sanjin's throat and crushed him against the wall, before Gonji blasted his face with belching fire and both vigilantes punched the brute.

A lobster cocked his claw like a deadly cannon, blasting a high-pressure shot of water that slammed Obara back towards the stairs. Sanjin grabbed the pig by the tusk and lifted him high like a battering ram, blocking the watershots with his bulk before hurling him forth to crush the lobster. Gonji staggered from behind with a hard-bruised belly, seeing a door open behind Varan and a kappa raise his sword.

"SANJIN!"

Varan dodged only just, the katana slashing down his arm with a ruthless cut that ripped his scales in a fresh river of blood. Stumbling against the wall, he tossed a cardboard box that the kappa carved through clean, until Gonji slammed the kappa's head from behind with a power dunk and the sword went skidding along the hall. Another door opened to stop the blade in its tracks, picked up by a long winged hand.

"So, you fuckers finally came." Garushima picked up the katana. "Didn't think you wanted to die that fast."

"Your campaign's over," Varan proclaimed, "you'll leave Okinawa tonight, one way or another."

"You two're gonna leave this world the way those Korean fucks did." She brandished her sword and stepped back in her room. "Like ashes in the fucking wind,."

"You..." his fist shook with growing anger, "you're gonna fuckin' PAY FER WHUT YOU DID!"

Charging for the door with Gonji's help, they slammed through together as the falcon shrieked a blast of energy the moment they entered. The two dodged out her path, Obara diving forwards to headbutt her stomach as she fell back against her desk. Her room was like a director's office, placards of the Empire's slogans on the walls with chairs to the side as she lunged forth with sweeping slash.

Gonji jumped back to keep her distracted as Varan grabbed her from behind, slamming his knee in her kidney. She punched his waist with the handle of her blade, turning to slash his head but pinging off his spikes as he socked her jaw, then grabbed her arm to try and disarm her.

Garushima screamed a violent beam that he dodged underneath, the wall ripping its plaster from her shot as she kicked Varan back and sliced for his head again. But Gonji grabbed her flaming mohawk and yanked her back to make her stumble, before stomping the back of her knee and grabbing her single arm.

"You got one chance!" shouted the reptile. "Face yer crimes or get a DAMN BEATIN'!"

"FUCK YOU ASSWIPE!" she screamed. "I'M MAKING OKINAWA GREAT AGAIN, THE FUCK YOU EVER DO FOR IT HUH?!"

"KEEPIN' FOLKS SAFE FROM CREETS LIKE YOU!"

Varan grabbed one of her legs and slammed on her back, pinning her in a submission hold as they both tried to wrench the sword free from her grip. Once her grip loosened, they tossed the katana away and rolled her on her back to bring their fists down together.

"There," gasped Varan, "justice comes fer all, you vasher bitch."

"Finally," Obara sighed, "shoulda brought that rope in, coulda bound her up."

"Guess one of us is gonna hafta keep guard until Shisa-han gets here."

"But she ain't thuh leader right? Wuzn't it that Daija sunuvabitch?"

"Yeah where he at?!" Sanjin looked around the trashed office. "Party's not gonna go if he still around."

Obara put up his hand and his ears gently flickered. Something from the west, the shuffling of papers and the scrabbling mutter of someone's voice.

"I know where he is," he stood up, "keep an eye on her, I'll stop him from leavin'."

"Alright cuz. Just watch yerself."

Heading out of the room and creeping down the hall, which now laid full of vashers concussed, Gonji flicked his ears round for the source of the voice until a door opened. Hiding himself by lying with the bodies, he saw a hornless turquoise dragon in a white suit running from one office to another.

"Gods be damned," he muttered, "she didn't bloody gather all of them the stupid-aaagh! Alright, it's fine, just be discreet, we still have time."

Leaving the hall once more he departed, Gonji sneaking into the room he came from to find a seemingly empty office. A blank desk, some folders and a chair, but a bookshelf at the back wall had been moved to reveal a hidden door. Inside he found the true office of Dr. Daija, photographs of esteemed scientists at a facility including that very same long-necked dragon, standing prim and proud.

On the desk in front of a window was a briefcase full of papers, along with a phone and answering machine as he shuffled through documents. What little he understood of the taxing language, he found was definitely illegal with unlawful unregistered party donations having been made by various benefactors, some of which surprised him.

"Shit...they sponsor thuh fuckin' vashers too? Ohohh shit, this gon' be big."

"Can I help you?"

Daija stood at the door, the dragon putting on his best smile with his snowflake brooch sparkling.

"I do not recall inviting you to my office."

"I let myself in," Gonji cricked his neck, "you wan' sum help packing up, so you get thuh fuck outta here?"

"I'm not leaving Okinawa," he put a hand in his pocket, "and I shall be calling the police for this gross attempt of intimidation."

"Yer one to talk, you an' yer vasher scum been threatenin' folk out on thuh street!"

"I am not responsible for what individuals do, my message has always maintained the protection of our Japanese businesses."

"So whut you call burnin' down Aquasky?!" Obara slammed his hands on the desk. "Whut you call murderin' a family, who had a kid, who's now a GOTDAMN ORPHAN?!"

"Do you know who committed this grievous crime?"

"Sure do, that falcon wi' thuh one arm!"

"Can you prove it?" Mantarou grinned walking forth. "The only testimony you have are two panicked locals, and I have a wealth of legal assistance to help quash any criticisms."

"Oh yeah?" Gonji picked up the briefcase. "Whut about all this?"

"That is NONE of your business!"

"Seems like thuh police would be interested! I dunno much on politics myself, but I know from readin' this that y'all got a lotta donations an' didn't register none on yer taxes."

"Hah...hah, hhhahahahaha!" Daija stroked his bare scalp. "You accuse me of fiddling my taxes, when YOU are consorting with YAKUZA?!"

"I ain't part o' thuh yakuza," Obara shrugged, "we just got a common goal, I pay my taxes, unlike you. An' I don't think thuh good folk of Okinawa, even thuh ones who support vashers, are gonna be happy that you don't."

"Why do you resort to violence? Instead of debating me in the political forum, and casting your vote like every kaiju has a right to, why do this?"

"Because YOU fuckers started it! Yer the ones goin' around beatin' thuh shit outta folks!"

"Can you prove that?"

"I SURE FUCKIN' CAN, we got a mile wide o' folks who'll testify!"

"So why come here and harass my team, if you could have demonstrated yourself in court?!"

"Because it won't get rid o' you proper!" Gonji jabbed a finger at him. "If you's were just some party o' wimps I wouldn'ta bothered, but since you fuckers got in power, every monster an' beast an' more than a few kaiju done got their shit kicked in every night!"

"A pity." Daija straightened his sleeves. "But still you have nothing to prove, so if all you're going to do is threaten me-"

"Ohoh, I ain't gonna just threaten you." Obara picked up the briefcase and patted it fine. "This li'l baby you left behind's gonna be a treat."

"Put that down." The dragon slit his eyes. "That is NOT yours."

"Shoulda taxed yer money then like a good citizen!"

"PUT, it, DOWN!"

"Make me. Yanno fer a politician yer a real dumbass, leavin' all this shit lyin' around so you could scavenge up thuh rest of yer crimes."

"Fine." Daija pinched his snout. "What do you want? Hush money?"

"Fuck that," Gonji scoffed, "I want yer party gone from Okinawa, an' never to come back, or else I hand these over to thuh Toho who're legal experts, an' they'll make SURE you gonna be fucked six ways from Sunday!"

"ENOUGH! Fine...you want justice for the Aquasky, I will turn in Darushima."

"Really?"

"I will call the police," Mantarou walked over to the phone, "I will turn Darushima in, as well as your little gang of misfits."

"You tell them ONLY 'bout Darushima," Gonji shook his fist, "unless you want a black eye."

"Typical, so much for the tolerant left-"

"DON'T, FUCK WITH ME!" Obara grabbed him by the throat with seething eyes. "You done far worse than I ever will, now call thuh gotdamn police an' tell them 'bout Darushima, nuthin' else, or I'll break yer FUCKIN' LEGS, THEN YER GOTDAMN TEETH so the only thing you ever gonna eat is fuckin' miso!"

"...fine."

Daija sneered straightening his suit before picking up the phone. His eyes drifted towards the window, giving a clear view of the long river twisting out behind the building. He turned himself away from Gonji, leaned over the desk, and carefully slid open the drawer.

"Yes, hello, this is Dr. Mantarou Daija, calling from the Empire of Mu HQ. I wish to report that one of my own, a Keiko Garushima, has admitted to being the arsonist behind the burning of Aquasky. Yes, I know that's a serious allegation, but she herself confessed to me. I cannot have her in my party for such disgraceful actions, can you please escort her off my premises? Thank you."

His fingers wrapped round something from the drawer as he finished the call.

"The police are on their way in about thirty minutes."

"Good," Gonji nodded, "now lemme take ya down to Shisahara so we'll set you off on a plane."

"Oh I'm leaving...but you never will."

The moment Gonji touched him, Daija turned with a letter opener shaped like a small dagger, plunging deep into Gonji's belly and stabbing him thrice with violent grin. Obara screamed as he wrapped his arms round the dragon, struggling to hold on as the blade twisted in his gut, the two wrestling against the wall and the desk and eventually the window.

Facing each other, Daija smashed Gonji's head through the glass before strangling him with one hand, stabbing deeper into his belly to carve a small red line through his flesh. Obara shrieked to the world outside, pushing himself forwards to blast the dragon's face with fire, causing Mantarou to recoil with his silver knife.

"//_BUSTERRRR WOLF! _//"

As he reeled back, Daija looked up to see a burning fist come driving for his skull, tearing hot knuckles across the top of his scalp and gouging a dark deep groove. Shuddering with a howling fury, he clutched his face still holding the knife, and roared blindly at the vigilante.

"You, will not take me down like this you FILTHY KNIFE-EARED RAT!"

Gonji hurled the briefcase to the corner before they clashed once again. Both fell out of the window, falling beyond the wall and rolling towards the river as the reptile punched the dragon frantically through the dirt. Daija roared with blind fury as he stabbed him repeatedly, red spilling across his suit and mixing with mud as he perforated the youth.

But Obara wouldn't let go, burning the dragon's face with fire and blocking his letter opener with ears anytime Mantarou went for his eyes. By the time they reached the riverbank, a long stream of dirty crimson laid behind them, as Daija shoved Obara's head into the water.

"If I go down...I'm taking you with me, you BASTARD!"

With his strength fading fast from the many wounds in his belly, Gonji Obara pawed in vain at the vasher who kept his head beneath the water, staring into his eyes amidst choking bubbles that fractured his reflection. His fire bursts became weaker, silenced by the water as his punches turned feeble.

His last breaths would emerge in a final scream. Gonji's eyes rolled up as his ears stiffened hard, before they slumped down into the riverbed. Daija stared upon his hands, wrapped tightly round his throat, before looking back up to the window they fell from with a terrible realisation.

"No...NO!" He cried searching the shore. "WHERE IS IT?! YOU...you bastard WHERE IS IT?! WHERE'S MY BRIEFCASE?!"

"GON-CHAN?!" a voice cried from the window. "WHUT HAPPEN, WHERE YOU AT?!"

His eyes widened with a furious panic, and one long look across the shore confirmed that he had no briefcase. There was no turning back, especially not with the dead vigilante underneath him. Taking off his white suit, he grabbed his silver letter opener from the mud, and dived into the river with natural serpentine form, turning into a lightning bolt that shot through the waves and soon disappeared over the horizon.

Back in Daija's room, Varan opened the door and searched around the place. The screams he had heard from down the hall had alerted him, but Gonji was nowhere to be found.

"GONJI?! CUZ!? WHERE'D YOU GO, YOU ALRIGH'?!"

A briefcase had been tossed to the floor, clawmarks raked the desk and droplets of blood led him towards the broken window. Staring out to the river, his heart clenched from the unmistakable body in the water.

"N-no...no, GON-CHAN!"

Jumping out the window, Sanjin flew through the air with membranous wings and glided down towards the riverbank. Dragging his friend out the water, he gasped at the bloody wounds covering his belly, his eyes rolled up and his mouth hung open.

"Gon...Gonji?"

Varan shook him hard as he could, but he wouldn't wake up. Not a single breath, his head lolling to the side with one ear draped over his cheek.

"No, no no no no, NO, GONJI COME ON, GONJI WAKE UP!"

He tried to breathe into him, pushing his chest but his hands became too bloody. His eyes started to water, sobs grew with each passing second and his desperation more frantic with each pump of the chest.

"GONJI NO, G-GONJI, DON'T DO THIS TO ME! GONJI! GONJIIIIIII!"

For the longest two minutes of his life, Sanjin kept pumping and breathing into his friend's body. Nothing would stir, his eyes remained glassy and his mouth turning cold. Shuddering tears trickled down Varan's cheek, staining his friend's face as he held him close, pulled into a hug with Gonji's arms falling limp.

"Y-y-you...you...b-bastard. H-how couldya do this to me?! You had a family, you had a KID gotdammit! Whut'm I gonna tell Ooda-chan, I promised, I-i promised I would...ohhh, gods Gonji please, please don't leave me. I got nobody else cuz, I had...y-you were thuh closest thing I had to a brother. Please wake up...p-please...gods, PLEASE, GONJIIIIIII!"

Staring into the pale eyes of his friend, Sanjin wept with howling screams as his hands were stained redder. From the window above, Kin Shisahara watched with a mournful sigh, a silent prayer passing from his lips.

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

"I never saw Daija again," said Sanjin in Kaijurocho, "disappeared down thuh river. Shisa-han found thuh documents of their tax-evading an' we turned it over to thuh police. Garushima got arrested fer thuh fire, an' half thuh vashers went to jail."

"But your friend didn't make it?" gasped Gonkuro.

"I wuz too late," the patriarch shook his head, "after all wuz said an' done, the Empire of Mu folded, an' they were never seen in Okinawa again."

"What about Gonji's wife?" the young Obara leaned in. "I forget her name but, she never forgave you?"

"Motara wuz her name," Sanjin lied, "we never spoke to each other again, an' no I don't know whut happened to their kid."

"I'm so sorry." Gonkuro hugged him. "Gonji sounded like a great guy."

"He wuz my brother." Sanjin smiled. "Only one who ever understood me. After that, weren't no reason not to join thuh Toho anymore so I retired from thuh wrestlin' world an' became a patriarch. We all moved to Tokyo where thuh money wuz goin', an' that's how we all end up here."

"But they still call you Varan-san," said young Obara giggling, "I always liked that name, it's kind of cute. But, where does my mom fit into all this?"

"Uhhh, she," Varan coughed, "she worked down thuh road from Aquasky, that whole thing wuz real traumatising so again, don't bring up any of this."

"But why would she hate the Toho Clan if they weren't part of-"

"Rumours get outta control, for whutever reason yer mom prob'ly thinks thuh Toho were behind it so it's too late to correct it, please don't bring it up."

"Okay," Gonkuro sighed rubbing his ear, "I still can't believe you knew Yong-ga back when he was a kid, that's so weird!"

"It wuz thanks to whut Sa-Rhee said about that Millennium Tower we moved here. Part of me wanted to go out an' find him, but duties come first an' well, never had time once I got in thuh thick of it."

"But you should talk to Sa-Rhee now, me and Yong-ga are friends, you could reconnect!"

"Naw it's fine," Obakimura patted him, "we both got our different lives."

"But Kiryu-san's already friends with him!"

"An' that's good, he got a lot further than I ever did with him. Anyways." Varan rubbed Gonkuro's back as they sat in their tent. "Thanks fer listenin' to an old fart like me, hope I didn't bore ya."

"What no that was a great story!" Gonkuro slapped his knees. "I loved hearing about the eighties, it sounded a wild time, but I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Mmhmm, it wuz certainly different."

"Do you...want to make prayers for him at the temple?"

"Nah, I do that on my own."

"Can I join you?"

Varan blinked somewhat taken aback as Obara's son smiled at him.

"He sounded a cool guy, and you loved him so much I...well, sorry, I know it's weird for a junior to ask-"

"Obara." Sanjin took his hand. "I'd be honoured, if you want to join me in prayin' fer him, that's fine with me. Yer a good kid, you know that?"

"Heh yeah, well, my mom thinks so."

"She's right about that. Frankly yer thuh best kid that I ever met."

Gonkuro blushed with a happy grin, his ears flapping as they brought out their NeoBytes and kept playing Dragon's Quest. The sounds of Kaijurocho in 2014 were so much different than Okinawa, and whilst Sanjin had gotten used to it, his story made him miss the sounds of the ocean. But even more he missed his friend, and every time he looked upon Gonkuro's face, a dagger plunged deep into his breast.