Author's stuff:
  Okay, here we go.  32 hours, a six pack of Jolt, and a oreo cheezecake late, I've managed to recover my lost files (note to self: sixpack of Jolt in one sitting = bad thing... *-*).  So, to those who've waited patiently, here's the next part, chapter, whatever... I'm still working on the title (so far its Kuei Hunter Gojira: And So It Begins...)and I'm open to comments, questions, or concerns.
  Also, any C&C about the following will be greatly apreciated... this was a first draft, so there may be a few errors, and room for improvement.  Later, y'all!

  Disclaimer: The following is the product of the voices in my head, all characters are the sole property of M. Belcourt.  

  "I must say, Mr. -uh- Hung, I was suprised when you called.  I've been trying to rent this place for months now, but no one's seemed interested."
  "I wonder why," the chinese man commented, looking around the room.  The penthouse apartment was spacious by Tokyo standards, posessing six seperate rooms, with a moderate size kitchen, a bathroom with a full length tub, a masterbedroom, another guest bedroom, and the main living room.  The living room was twice the size of any of the other rooms, making up nearly half of the apartment's full size.  The walls were clean, and smelt of fresh paint, and the carpet underfoot was new, barely worn.  A large sliding door opened on to a small balcony, and an impressive view of the city.
  "Well... it has a... history," the landlord, a balding man in thick, horn-rimmed glasses said, looking away.  The chinese man turned, arching one eyebrow, his eyes hidden behind the lenses of a pair of sunglasses.
  "Oh?"
  "The...uh... previous owner," the landlord said hesitantly, "had an... accident..."  This was the part where everyone who'd come to look at the place balked, then usually left never to call back.  He'd tried droping the rent to the point where he was making loss, but still no one was willing to take the place.
  "He died," the chinese man said, a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.  "Violently."
  "Uh... how did you know...?"
  "His spirit is still here.  It's very angry, restless.  It want's revenge."
  "His spirit?" the landlord said, blinking.  This foreigner was obviously insane... still, he had the money-
  "I'll take it," the man said, smiling as he looked around the room, interupting the landlord's thoughts.   He reached inside the leather jacket he was wearing, and pulled out a small wad of bills.  He handed this to the landlord, who took it wordlessly.
  "I've the first six months' rent there," the man said, the circular lenses of his dark glasses making his face look skeletal.  His gaze locked with the landlord's, and the older man felt a chill split his spine, his hand clenching reflexively around the wad of bills.  "Plus a little bonus.  I like my privacy... make it happen."  
  The stranger smiled, but there was no warmth in it, it was more a baring of teeth than a friendly expression.  When he was a child, his parents had taken him to the zoo.  Somehow, he'd gotten seperated from them, and lost.  He ended up just outside the tiger cage, which held a huge male.  The tiger had looked at him, locking his eyes with its own, and it was the same look the stranger gave him now.  It was neutral... cold, emotionless.  As if he could reach out, and kill the landlord with less feeling then a statue.
  A shudder ripped up his spine, and he looked away, gripping the roll of bills tighter.
  "I'll see to it, Mr. Hung," the landlord said weakly, before turning.  He managed to walk out of the door, and into the hallway, before his knees gave out.  It was just his luck... another loony.  The last tenent had been involved heavily with the yakuza, and this one had the same look.
  Well, he didn't care.  The man had paid, six months in advance.  He'd learned young to keep his eyes, and mouth shut, and it was a skill that had served him well in the past.  It would do here too.

  Hung San Yun surveyed the apartment, and sighed.  It was so much smaller than what he was used to, back in Hong Kong, but it would have to do.  It was a small sacrafice to pay, for the glory and honor of his mistress.  That thought prodded another further into his mind.  He'd have to contact her soon, she'd want to know about his progress, limited as it was.
  These things took time, though, and she knew that.  He was merely the spearhead, the first step in the overall conquest.  This apartment would serve as his home for the time being, and a potential base of operations, until something better was found.  His success, or, perish the thought, failure here would determine how much effort she would have to expend on this campaign.  So far, he wasn't impressed by Tokyo.  Defenses had been pitiful, weak, and easily bypassed.  He wasn't even sure if his presence in the city was known yet.  Such a lack in Hong Kong would have been fatal, for either the invading force, or the ones responsible for maintaining the defenses.
  He felt a dark presence behind him, a swelling of anger that could only be the spirit of the former occupant.  Its anger was thick, almost palpable, like a harsh energy that prickled along San Yun's skin, angry at the intrusion into it's domain.  San Yun turned, facing the invisible presence, and, smiling, lowered his defenses slightly, letting the presence 'see' the energy, the power at his command.
  There was a tug, like a recoil, then an icy feeling all too like fear, then the presence was gone, leaving him alone.  San Yun didn't know where the entity had gone, or, for that matter, really care.  He was alone now, and that was enough.  The power left by the former occupant's death still clung to the walls, dissipated by the new paint, and carpet, but strong enough for the purpose he would eventualy turn it too.
  Enough!  He had more work to do, and his time was starting to run thin.  If he didn't accomplish something soon, his mistresses' wrath would be...  He shuddered.
  Reaching down to the small pack he'd carried what limited possessions he'd wanted for this trip, he opened it, and drew out a small scrap of paper.  Written on it, in simple script was an address, and a name.
  Lim Chung Hei.

  ***

  "Your first day," Lim Chung Hei commented dryly.  "And you get into a fight."
  "Actually, we never really fought, just traded insults, postured, and all that..."  Toshiro felt his grandfather's gaze on him, and he bowed his head.  It wasn't so much the anger, that bothered him, as the hint of disappointment underlying it.
  The old man sighed, running one hand over his bald head.  He was shorter than Toshiro by nearly a inch, and since Toshiro wasn't tall to begin with, this made him a very small man.  Rail thin, he looked like he might weigh ninety pounds, if sopping wet.  Wire-rimmed glasses rested on a small, almost puggish nose, framing bright grey eyes.  Despite his age, his skin was smooth, nearly wrinkle free, only the greying of the fringe of hair around his head hinting at his advanced years.  He wore a simple cotton shirt, the sleeves rolled back past his elbows, and  his forearms rippled with corded muscle as he sighed, picking up the suit coat he'd left on the chair outside the principal's office.
  "Well, I suppose that's an improvement," the old man said, sighing his way into a slow smile.  The expression dismissed all of Toshiro's fears, and he relaxed.  He found himself smiling back at the old man, as he led the way out the office.
  "Still, you shouldn't have gotten involved," the old man chided, and Toshiro felt that familiar pang of guilt again.
  "A friend was in in trouble," Toshiro replied defensively.  "She-"
  "She?" the old man asked, his voice taking on a mischevious tone.  "Ah... it all becomes clear to me now.  You were defending this girl's honor, ne?"
  Toshiro blushed, while silently kicking himself for mentioning it.  He'd have been better off keeping his big mouth shut.
  "So, what's this girl like?" his grandfather pressed, and out of the corner of his eye, Toshiro could see the wicked grin the old man sported.
  "Uh... I don't know her that well... we just met today..."  Toshiro felt lost, defensive.  His grandfather knew ways to get information out of him, subtle ways that he never caught until it was too late.
  "I see.  She must be very pretty than, to catch your eye so quickly,"
  "I suppose she's kinda cute," Toshiro replied, trying to keep his tone light, while concentrating on keeping his blushing below his neck.  His grandfather chuckled.
  "Ah... I said the same thing when I first met your grandmother.  True, I was talking about her sister, but..."  He smiled, and shrugged.  "You never know, do you?"  By this time, they'd reached his grandfather's car, a compact Toyota, that was nearly as old as he was.  The door, like always, stuck as Toshiro opened it, and slid inside, hoping to avoid any more questions.
  "So, tell me more about this girl you thought was so important you risked your record to defend her," his grandfater said, starting the old car, and pulling out of the parking lot.
  "I-" Toshiro balked, "I don't know what to say.  I just met her today..."  He paused, looking out the window, then frowned.  "This isn't the way home."
  "No, we're going to the airport," the old man said, his tone cheerful, "We have to pick up my old friend, don't you recall.  I'm sure I mentioned it this morning."
  "Oh, ah, hai," Toshiro replied, thankful for the change in subject.  "So... uh, you said he was from Okinawa too?"
  His grandfather nodded, suddenly seeming to age.  "Hai.  We grew up there together... Then, he moved to the mainland, I here.  We've kept in touch, but... this'll be the first time we've met since we parted.  I wonder how much he's changed.  Or how much I have, in his eyes..."
  "Is he in the same business?"  Toshiro's grandfather was in antiques, either selling them from his little shop, or, more frequently, acting as a proxy for other buyers.  He would track down the item the customer wanted, haggle a price, then bring it in for resale.  It wasn't lucrative, but the occasional rarity brought in enough cash for the two of them to live well.
  "Yes, and no," the old man replied, somewhat vaguely.  Toshiro blinked, noting the guarded expression his grandfather wore.  It piqued his curiosity.
  "I don't understand..."
  The old man looked thoughtful.  "We have the same goals, just different ways of getting there."  His grandfather sighed, then shook his head.  "You'll see what I mean when you meet him.  So, did you make any more friends today, or just this girl...?"
  Despite his best effrots, Toshiro blushed, but managed to relate most of the days events, including his meeting Matsuo, and Yanagi.  His grandfather questioned him incessently for the rest of the drive, and he answered what he could.  They arrived at the airport, and were soon waiting in the terminal.  Way down in the discount section... it seemed his granfather's friend was not a wealthy man.
  "So, what are you and your friend planning for this evening?" Toshiro asked conversationally.  They'd been waiting in silence for the past few minutes, his grandfather seeming pensive.
  "N?  Oh," the old man replied, waving his hand dismisively, "We've been invited out for dinner."
  Toshiro blinked.  "Huh?"
  "I met this wonderful lady in the market today... it seems she's from the mainland as well.  When I mentioned that I had a friend coming in from Hong Kong, she insisted that we come over to her place for dinner.  You're invited too."
  "Me?"
  His grandfather shrugged.  "That's what she said..."  His voice trailed off, and he rose from his seat slowly.  Toshiro followed his gaze, to see someone walking steadily towards them.
  It was an older man, tall, and rail thin, like his grandfather.  Long, white hair was pulled back into a tight braid, leaving the man's long narrow face exposed. An ivory disc covered his left eye, while his right was a brown so dark, it looked black.  He was wearing a battered long coat, that was patched by hand in several places, as were the man's pants.  He carried an old army issue duffle bag, the kind you could fit a body in, and a heavy leather satchel slung over one shoulder.
  What really surprised Toshiro, though, was the way he moved, smooth, graceful.  There was a rythym to his pace, to every motion, as if he was doing a t'ai ch'i form, only quicker.  He approached them at the same pace, even after he'd obviously seen them.  His grandfather straightened, and waited his hands cossed infront of him.  The other man finally stopped a few feet away, his eyes locked with Toshiro's granfather.
  Now that he was close enough, Toshiro could see the hard, bitter edges of the man's face.  His skin was smooth, seamless, but some how he seemed old, tired.  There was something else, something that made the hair on Toshiro's neck stand up, and send a sensation that wasn't quite a chill up his spine.
  His grandfather spoke, saying something in chinese, and the man responded.  Toshiro spoke some cantonese, but this was different... mandarin, maybe?  His grandfather said something else, bowing fluidly, and the man responded in turn, bowing as well.  There was a long pause, as the two men stood facing each other, faces solemn, a nearly palpable tension between them.  Toshrio wasn't sure what was going on, but it didn't feel right.  Wasn't this his grandfather's friend?
  Then his grandfather smiled, and embraced the taller man, who returned the gesture, a crooked grin splitting his face.  The tension, and Toshiro's worries slipped away.
  "Ah, Tieh, it's been too long," his grandfather was saying, stepping back.
  The other man, Tieh, nodded.  "Shi," he said in a low voice that sounded as harsh as he appeared.  "You've changed little though, lao jen."
  "Neither have you," Toshiro's grandfather replied, wrinkling his nose.  "What did you do, travel with livestock this time?"
  "Sheep," Tieh said, shrugging, "It as the best I could afford on such short notice, and with I had to spend."
  Toshiro coughed hesitantly, then wished he hadn't, as his grandfather's friend's good eye turned towards him.  There was an intensity to the man's gaze that made him want to step back, despite the cheerful look on his face.  He repressed an urge to shudder, but the effort left him standing speechless.
  "This is my grandson, Toshiro," his grandfather came to his rescue.  The other man's eye brow arched.
  "Grandson?" he asked blinking, "He's Mei's son?  I can see it in his eyes.  How is she, by the way?"
  Toshiro felt a sharp pain, and looked away, noticing his grandfather's suddenly sad expression out of the corner of his eye.
  "She... died, along with Toshiro's father several years ago.  I thought you knew."
  "I'm sorry... I hadn't heard.  How?"  There was a weight to the question, as if there was a disguised meaning, and Toshiro found himself turning to look at the stranger.  The man's expression was serious, and intense.
  "Car crash," his grandfather replied with a sigh, and the intensity seemed to fade from Tieh's face.  "It was quite quick, thankfully.  Appearantly they died on impact."
  "Oh," the stranger said, nodding.  He glanced at Toshiro.  "You took in the boy, I take it?"
  His grandfather shrugged.  "Someone had to, and I was the only living relative."  He glanced at his watch.  "We should get going, we've been invited to dinner."
  The stranger blinked.  "What?"
  "I'll explain on the way," Toshiro's grandfather replied, before turning to Toshiro.  "Toshiro, take our guest's bag."  The man frowned, giving Toshiro an uneasy look, and he blinked in return.
  "Hurry up, don't be rude.  Don't worry, Tieh, you can trust him."
  The stranger didn't look so sure, but he handed the bag over to Toshiro, who took the handles in one hand... then promptly dropped the bag, as the other man released it.  
  "Kuso!" he cursed under his breath, having to use both hands to lift the bag a few feet off the ground.  It weighed a tonne!  What did he have in here, an elephant?  The stranger looked amused, then walked away with his grandfather, the two of them talking in chinese, occaisionally laughing.
  Toshiro grunted, and struggled to carry the man's bag as he followed.  It was a while before it struck him that his grandfather's friend, who looked like he outweighed by several pounds, had carried this same bag with one hand.
  This is definitely going to be an interesting visit, he thought quietly.

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