Note to new readers - this will all make limited sense without reading the

previous installments, located at:

http://www.thekeep.org/~mike/pastpresent.html



But they're worth the read, honest! ^_^



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Pastpresent

by Susan Doenime

R1/2 characters and backstory are the creations and property of Takahashi

Rumiko. Used without permission. No challenge to copyrights should be

inferred or taken.

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Pastpresent homepage at: http://www.thekeep.org/~mike/pastpresent.html

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Pastpresent 8 - Ash and Water



		Laos started a lot of messes for me. The most 

	obvious was the introduction of Kuonji Inji to the parade 

	of maniacs that darted in and out of my life; I knew that 

	he'd be back at some point to settle the score. I also 

	knew that the trick I'd used to defeat him in the temple 

	probably wouldn't work a second time. In the next fight, 

	he'd simply strike at obviously unarmored areas - like my 

	face, perhaps. The thought didn't exactly thrill me, but it 

	was great motivation.



		I immediately sank myself into a harsh training 

	regimen under Saotome-sensei's guidance. Your mother 

	was a great help - her sword arts were close enough to

	Inji's knife style to provide me with a sparring partner.



		She wasn't anywhere near as fast as Inji, of course, 

	but I wasn't planning on fighting Inji with lead weights 

	tied to my arms and legs like I did in practice with 

	Nodoka.



		I suppose Kiri could have helped - and she did, 

	giving me what advice she could on Inji's fighting style 

	and habits - but she and Nodoka went out of their way to 

	avoid each other immediately after coming back from the 

	trip. Your mother was a bit embarrassed by it all, and 

	Kiri... well, Kiri just winced and unconsciously crossed 

	her legs whenever Nodoka's name came up.



		Soun? Well, that, I think, was the biggest change. 

	We fought like cats and dogs back in the old days, 

	although we did have our moments of cooperation. After 

	Laos, the cooperation grew stronger and the competition 

	slackened.



		Why? I'm not entirely sure. I think the trip had a lot 

	to do with it. And, too, there was an incident shortly 

	afterward that it seems everyone but me was involved in. 



		I got most of the story later. It's amazing, really, 

	how little things shape our lives...



-----------------------------



	Soun walked along the river, and sighed. He was 

depressed.



	This wasn't surprising. He'd been in a funk ever since 

returning from Takashi's expedition into the jungle hell of 

Laos. It was alarming, he thought, that his mood had actually 

been _better_ during the trip.



	Not that he didn't have a long list of very good reasons to 

hate life at the moment. Oh, no.



	For starters, there was Genma. Kasigi had always been a 

thorn in his side, a bump in his road, a fly in his soup - but he 

could take comfort in the fact that the reverse had always 

been true as well. The battle for dominance as the best student 

of the Saotome-ryuu had always been an unsteady one, tilting 

first one way, then another, with their master benignly 

keeping the balance of power going with subtle adjustments 

here and there.



	Only on the trip, it had been Genma who had taken on 

Kuonji, and Genma who had saved them. Soun's most 

devastating technique had barely fazed the archeologist. And 

with Inji as a possible threat, Genma wasn't likely to view 

Soun as a great rival any more.



	It was galling, being outstripped like that.



	And then there was the subject of Nodoka.



	He sighed again. As much as he hated to admit it, Nodoka 

seemed to have chosen Genma. Short of some incredibly 

impressive victory over his foe - and one that would last, 

unlike his short-lived reign after learning the Seven Righteous 

Demons Wrath - he had little to no chance of getting her back. 

He was starting to feel silly whenever he snapped at Kasigi for 

getting too close to her.



	And, to be honest, he was starting to wonder about 

Nodoka. This whole business with Kiritsubo and her was... 

disturbing. And not entirely surprising, which was even more 

disturbing. As much as he tried to pretend otherwise, Nodoka 

had rather... broad... tastes. Perhaps it was for the best that 

she had decided on Genma.



	He kicked gloomily at a rock. Failed in love, failed in the 

Art - that pretty much meant he had failed at life.



	He was, in fact, in such a funk that it took him almost 

five whole nanoseconds to notice the sound of a young woman 

crying.



	With one final sigh - a long, deep, melodramatic one - he 

quickly glanced around to find the source of the sobbing. It 

seemed to be coming from a girl in a pink and white dress, 

sitting dejectedly on a bench and bawling her eyes out.



	He hurried over; chivalrous brain neurons buzzing 

frantically. "Excuse me, Miss? Miss? Can I help you?"



	"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"



	Soun felt his gi moisten slightly from the barrage of 

tears, but stood his ground. "Miss? Is something the matter?"



	"I can't find Neko-chan!" the girl finally sobbed. "I've 

looked all over, and I can't find him!"



	A lost cat. Soun's heart melted into a puddle of vaguely 

protective male goo. "Now now," he said, trying to sound at 

once firm and sympathetic. "Crying won't help. When did you 

lose, ah, Neko-chan?"



	"He escaped five days ago," the girl said, sniffling. "I've 

followed him here - people have seen him - but I can't catch up! 

He's just gone!"



	"Well, I'm sure he'll be found eventually," Soun said 

comfortingly. "What does he look like?"



	"He's little and marmalade and has a funny left ear and he 

likes bacon." She paused to bawl energetically.



	"Now come, it'll be all right!" Soun told her. "If you want, 

I can look for Neko-chan, Miss...?"



	"Amakuchi-chan," the girl said in between sniffles. She 

looked at him with adoring eyes. "Would you really?"



	"Of course I would," Soun said grandly. "Does he answer 

to 'Neko-chan'?"



	"Oh yes," Amakuchi told him. "And he has a little collar 

with his name on it."



	"Nothing simpler!" he said, virtuous instincts in full cry. 

Digging in one pocket, he handed her a business card. "I will 

scour the neighborhood. Simply call at my estate, and if I've 

found him, you can pick him up from me."



	"Yaaaay!" Amakuchi squealed. Soun preened, in his 

element.



	"I go to find poor Neko-chan," he told her. "Fear not!"



	"Thank you, Tendo-san!" the girl said gratefully, glancing 

at the card. "Poor Neko-chan is so young and defenseless! 

You've got to find him before he gets hurt!"



	"I will!" he promised, jogging off. "Count on me!"



	He peered around for the next half hour, contentedly 

searching through back streets and calling the missing cat's 

name. This was just the sort of thing he had needed; a virtuous 

task to comfort a maiden in distress. It helped shore up his ego 

nicely, and kept him busy.



	It was also, after the first thirty minutes, a dismal 

failure. Several cats did come running at his call, but none of 

them were the correct color, or bore the identifying collar. 

There were, he mused, an awful lot of cats in Nerima. And an 

awful lot of streets.



	Not that he was going to give up. It was starting to dawn 

on him, however, that he might be out looking for a while.



	With that in mind, he started making his way back 

towards the Tendo estate, pausing now and then to call Neko-

chan's name. If he was going to be searching for the next few 

days, it would be wise to gather equipment. A net, perhaps, and 

a portable teakettle, and perhaps a tent, and catnip, and felt 

cat toys, and possibly bearers to carry the equipment...



	He was so wrapped up in planning the expedition that he 

almost didn't notice the young woman marching towards him 

with determined step.



	"Can I help you?" he asked, noting with mild curiosity the 

sledgehammer she was carrying over one shoulder.



	"I'm sorry to bother you, but were you looking for 

something?" she asked in a brisk tone. "I heard you calling..."



	"Yes," he said, hope rising. Perhaps this... stoneworker?... 

had seen Neko-chan! "I'm looking for a lost cat."



	She looked disappointed. "Oh. All right, then. Sorry to 

have bothered you."



	"That's all right," Soun replied, also disappointed. "Are 

you looking for someone too?"



	"Well, yes," the young woman said. "It's what I've come to 

Tokyo for."



	Soun examined her a bit more closely. Her garb did look 

more rural than usual; tough, baggy monpe trousers and a 

blouse of soft leather. She was muscular; not in the stocky 

sort of way that Kiri and Genma were, but more of a wiry build 

like his own. And, of course, there was that sledgehammer... "Is 

the, ah, hammer for whoever you're looking for?"



	"Hmm? Oh, yes." She looked somewhat embarrassed.



	"Who is it, if I might ask? I don't mean to be rude, but if 

some violent ruffian is requiring women to chase him with 

hammers, the matter needs to be corrected."



	"It's Go-Jigokuoni, the greatest horror ever to be 

spawned by the lower pit," the young woman said resignedly.



	Soun blinked, unsure if he'd heard her correctly. "What, a 

demon?"



	"That's an accurate way of putting it."



	"In Nerima?" Now that he thought about it, it seemed 

perfectly believable. After all, they had a kami in residence - 

why not a demon? "What does it look like?"



	"He's the size of a small elephant, red as blood, with 

black around his eyes. He has tusks, of course... sharp ones. 

Glowing red eyes, breath like poison gas..." She shrugged 

matter-of-factly. "He's really not all that physically 

impressive as these abominations go, but he's got a cunning, 

vicious intelligence that most of them lack. That's what makes 

him dangerous."



	Soun stared at her. "You make it sound as though you've 

dealt with such things before."



	"I"m afraid the family makes a business of raising them 

up," she said, looking somewhat ashamed. "But this one was too 

much even for them. I hate the unholy things, always have, so 

they chose me to track him down and kill him before he 

attracts too much attention."



	"That's horrible!" Soun said, honestly appalled. A clan of 

evil sorcerers, calling up demons, in modern Japan? And 

sending a young woman to hunt down one of their mistakes? 

"Such things shouldn't be allowed!"



	She nodded, head hanging in shame. "I agree, but none of 

them listen to me. They act like I'm some sort of fanatic. And 

there aren't technically any laws against it."



	Yes, Soun thought dazedly, modern law did lack a well-

defined demonology statute. "Well, it's certainly not your fault. 

You seem quite opposed to your family's practices."



	"I am," she said with fervor. "I'm going to hunt Go-

Jigokuoni down, and then I'm going to start a new life in the 

big city. Assuming there's anything left to start a new life 

with. I've never fought one of his class." Her jaw firmed. "Still, 

it needs doing. After he runs out of cats, he might start on 

people."



	"Runs out of cats?" Soun asked weakly, a bad feeling 

rising.



	"Oh, he eats cats like sparrows eat birdseed. Crazy about 

them." She looked at him sympathetically. "Oh, that's right, you 

were looking for your lost cat! I'm sorry."



	"No matter," he said, worried on several fronts. He 

couldn't go tell Amakuchi that her Neko-chan had been eaten by 

a demon from hell. And he also couldn't let this girl go fight a 

horror from a pit by herself.



	He perked up slightly. His duty in the matter was clear, 

and it sounded very noble and heroic. He would defeat this oni, 

thus saving the city from a supernatural menace, and then go 

on to find the poor wandering cat, gaining the satisfaction of a 

good deed well done.



	And he'd do it all without Genma stealing the show.



	"It just so happens that I have some experience in this 

area," he said. "I'm a martial artist myself, and I've faced some 

pretty ugly things in Sumatra."



	"Oh. The family gets some of its best stock from 

Sumatra," she said, shuddering slightly. "Are you in the 

business?"



	"No, but I have a friend who is. Kuno Takashi?"



	"Oh, the Kunos. Yes, I think grandfather has done some 

dealing with them."



	"Takashi-san has hired me and a friend to handle such 

things for him on several expeditions, including one to 

Sumatra," Soun said gravely. "Not experiences I enjoyed, but 

nothing that couldn't be handled."



	"Wow, just the two of you?" she said, sounding 

impressed. "That's not bad. Usually it takes dozens of skilled 

fighters to manage them."



	"In all modesty, I think I'm a cut above the average 

fighter in skill," Soun told her. "If you don't mind, why don't I 

come along with you? I hate such creatures as much as you do, 

and I can't have it eating the cat I'm looking for."



	That's very nice of you," she said warily. "But this thing 

really is very dangerous if you get it angry..."



	"So am I," Soun said airily. He glanced around, spotted a 

piece of steel pipe lying discarded in a gutter, and picked it up. 

Then he twisted it into a tight spiral. "If the bones of this 

thing bend as easily as metal, I can dispatch it."



	She looked impressed, he noted with satisfaction. "I 

guess you really are in the business." She took the twisted pipe 

from him, and straightened it with only a minimum of effort. 

Less, in fact, than he had expended. His estimation of her 

chances rose considerably. "What's your name, cat owner?"



	"Tendo Soun, of the Saotome Dojo," he replied. He almost 

added that he would inherit the dojo some day, but stopped - 

after recent events, that was by no means certain. "And 

yours?"



	"I'm Toriiko," she said, smiling. 



	"No last name?"



	She shrugged, the smile slipping a bit. "I'm not very fond 

of my family. It's mutual. I'm trying to start a new life, and 

tossing away the family name seemed like a good start."



	The prospect of throwing one's name away was an alien 

one to Soun. Then again, he reflected, his family was an 

ancient and honorable one, not a twisted line of demonologists. 

With a background like that, perhaps she had the right idea. 

"I'm very pleased to meet you," he said gravely.



	"Likewise," Toriiko said, setting her hammer down so 

that she could bow from the waist. Soun returned it, noting as 

he did that her hair was cut back into a short bob, severe and 

functional - consistent with the rest of her appearance. He 

approved.



	"So," he said when they had finished the formalities. 

"Where is this Go-Jigokuoni?"



	"I'm afraid I don't really know," Toriiko said. "I've tracked 

him to this section of Tokyo, but I haven't found him yet. For a 

huge red monster, he can be awfully good at lying low when he 

wants to."



	"Odd, you'd think that would stand out even in Tokyo..." 

Soun trailed off, thinking about some of the people he had seen 

in Kiritsubo's company. "Then again, perhaps not."



	"My experience is that most people who see him just 

ignore him."



	"What, they ignore a huge ravening demon the size of an 

elephant?"



	Toriiko nodded. "Everyone knows it's impossible and 

obviously a hallucination. So they ignore it and wait for it to 

go away. And they certainly don't mention it to anyone."



	"Some people have no sense of civic duty," Soun said, 

then snapped his fingers. The thought of Kiritsubo had given 

him an idea. "I believe I know how to locate the fiend."



	"You do?" Toriiko said hopefully, picking up her 

sledgehammer. "How?"



	"We shall ask the kami."



	She looked somewhat skeptical. "Prayer is all very good, 

but it has rather unreliable results."



	"You misunderstand," Soun said smugly. "We're not going 

to pray, we're going to ask a kami I happen to know."



	Toriiko stared at him dubiously, then shrugged. "We might 

as well. I certainly don't have any better ideas."



	"Well, then. Follow me." He set off, his new companion in 

tow, original destination forgotten. Catnip and bearers 

wouldn't be appropriate for demon-hunting.



****



	The neighborhood started to go steadily downhill as they 

walked; paint peeling and graffiti decorating walls in ever-

increasing amounts. Soun did his best to ignore it; some of his 

friends happened to live here, and so he would forgive the 

excretable conditions for their sake.



	"Is the shrine we're going to located in this 

neighborhood?" Toriiko asked, again sounding somewhat 

dubious as she looked around. "I'm new to the city, but even I 

can tell this is a bad part of town."



	"It's not really a shrine," Soun replied. "Unless you count 

the worship of money and engine grease. I apologize for the 

scenery, but don't worry; you're quite safe with me."



	"I'm sure," she murmured. "I was more concerned with 

how productive this trip is going to be."



	"Oh, I'm sure it will prove quite productive," Soun said 

cheerfully, quashing the doubts that were beginning to appear 

in him. Misuto was definitely a kami, but also a rather 

specialized one. And he still remembered the last time he had 

gotten help from her. His nose and groin and skull ached in 

remembrance.



	"If you say so," Toriiko said, not quite convinced.



	They turned a corner onto the street Joe's Garage was 

located on, and were almost immediately confronted by a cycle 

gang.



	There were easily fifty or sixty of them, decked out in 

black leather and chrome chains. They were mounted upon 

motorcycles and in sidecars, and brandished knives and lead 

pipes with the enthusiasm of people who want blood and know 

they're going to get it.



	Soun looked at them. They looked at Soun.



	"Um," Soun said, doing mental arithmetic. He could 

probably take them, but it would hurt. "Hello."



	Toriiko sighed and unlimbered her hammer. "Well, I'm 

here to start a new life in the big city. I suppose this is part of 

the routine, day-to-day hassle of urban living."



	"Hey, what's going on?" To Soun's relief - and slight 

disappointment, from the stupider part of his soul - Biki 

Kiritsubo pushed her cycle forward from the rear of the biker 

pack. "Soun? Whatcha doing down here?"



	"Kiritsubo-san," he said, nodding politely. "I just came 

down to speak to Misuto. Is she with your..." he looked at the 

group, trying to find an honest label that wouldn't start a fight. 

"Your excursion group?"



	"Mist chick? Naw, she's back at the garage, doing my 

laundry."



	Soun scowled. "Do you really have to treat her like your 

personal slave?" He had the natural reverence that a well-bred 

gentleman would have for a beautiful, refined lady who also 

happened to be a Shinto divinity. Of course, he also thought the 

kami was a sadistic, homicidal bitch of an instructor, but that 

was entirely irrelevant.



	Kiri scowled back. "We've gone over this before. She 

wants to help. Her help has almost driven me out of business. 

About the only things I can trust her with is stuff that 

involves water or indiscriminate destruction, and I'm already 

an expert at indiscriminate destruction. So she does my 

laundry. Got a problem with that?"



	"No, he doesn't," Toriiko said cheerfully but firmly. 

"Right, Tendo-san?"



	"Right," Soun said reluctantly.



	"Bono smash?" a voice rumbled from the rear of the pack.



	"No, Bono no smash yet," Kiri said with exaggerated 

patience. A grunt answered her in return.



	Soun blinked. "Is that Gosunkugi-san?"



	"Yeah. He doesn't like your dojo much."



	Probably because Saotome-sensei had tossed the hulking 

steelworker out on his ear for excessive brutality. "Going out 

for a Sunday ride?"



	"Nah, a bunch of punk monks has closed down the 

Hagetaka in Ant Town. They say it's a source of criminal and 

immoral behavior." She turned to the pack. "Whadaya say, 

people, is it a source of criminal and immoral behavior?"



	"HAI!" they roared back.



	"Damn straight," Kiri said. "And no prayer-chanting 

zealots are gonna keep us from our god-given right to get 

drunk, plan a mugging over a glass of illegal alcohol, and then 

go accidentally maim someone!"



	"Bono smash!" The sound of breaking concrete came from 

the rear of the pack.



	"No, no, Bono not smash quite yet!" Kiri said soothingly. 

"Akuto, keep him under control until we can get him pointed at 

the monks, okay?"



	"Yah, 'e's very excited..."



	"Anyway, Soun, we're off to go get blasted at our beloved 

old Hagetaka," Kiri concluded. "And may the kami help the monk 

who gets in our way, coz nothing else will."



	Soun shook his head, faintly appalled. "Kiritsubo, you are 

an irredeemable brute."



	She blushed. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever 

said to me, Tendo. Thank you." She waved. "For truth, injustice, 

and alcohol!"



	The pack roared in agreement, and the engines revved and 

caught. Soun and Toriiko hastily moved to one side, and the 

biker horde zoomed past like so many Mongols who had just 

heard that the Chinese had forgotten to lock the gates of 

Peking before turning in for the night.



	"I'm surprised," the hammer-wielding girl said after the 

dust had settled. "She didn't seem like the type of person I'd 

expect you to associate with. I mean, you talk like a 

gentleman, and that gi's made of good material. Are you in the 

Yakuza?"



	Soun sputtered slightly, somewhat shocked. Part of him 

wondered why that seemed to happen so often these days. 

"Certainly not! Kiritsubo is the friend of a fellow student of 

Saotome-sensei. She's a very... basic... type of person, but she 

can be very helpful at times."



	"For a price, right?"



	"Well, yes." He shrugged. "She enjoys cheating me, and she 

can certainly use the money. I look on it as charity."



	"I suppose that's nice."



	He grinned. "It's actually very cruel, which is why I'll 

never tell her. I will just savor it privately."



	She examined him, seeming to reappraise him in a new 

light. "Good that you realize that. Yes, it would be cruel."



	"I like Kiritsubo-san. Up to a point." He resumed walking 

towards the garage, and she followed. "She's a good companion 

to have in a tight spot, but she's a bit too suited to tight spots 

for everyday life."



	"She does seem very colorful," Toriiko admitted, then 

looked at her monpe, leathers, and hammer, and chuckled. "Not 

that I'm one to talk, I suppose."



	"Yes, but your kind of colorful isn't one the police wish to 

have a word with." Soun strolled onto the garage's porch and 

knocked.  "Misuto-san? Are you in?"



	"Oh! Tendo-san!" came a voice from inside. "One moment!"



	Misuto opened the door seconds later, her slender form 

garbed in her usual blue and yellow and grey kimono. A heap of 

laundry floated in midair behind her, a thick bubble of steam 

surrounding it. As Soun watched, it tumbled over and over 

within the bubble, soapsuds mixing through the clothes and 

steam.



	"I see you're in the middle of laundry," he said calmly. 

While he knew intellectually that she was a deity, the more 

blatant proofs of it still tended to unnerve him a bit.



	Toriiko just stared.



	"Yes! Kiritsubo says that I'm not nearly as pathetic at 

doing her laundry as I am at everything else." Misuto beamed at 

them. "I've almost finished her undergarments."



	"My. I never knew Kiritsubo went in for boxers," Soun 

murmured.



	"Are you really a kami?" Toriiko asked, sounding 

somewhat dazed.



	"Of course I am. I'm too magnificent to be anything else." 

Misuto struck a pose. "Would you like to worship me?"



	"Is it mandatory?" Toriiko asked.



	"No, not really," Misuto said, looking somewhat 

disappointed. "I'm not allowed to smite people anymore, either. 

I'm afraid this century isn't much for kami. They have popping 

icons and James Dean."



	"Pop idols," Soun corrected. "And James Dean is not a 

divinity."



	"That's not what Kiritsubo-san says. Why, in her sleep, 

sometimes she..."



	Soun turned red. "I don't think we need to know about who 

Kiritsubo sleeps... I mean, what she sleeps.... I mean..."



	"We don't need to hear about that," Toriiko interjected 

smoothly.



	"Yes, exactly," Soun said hurriedly. He was beginning to 

see Kiri's point. Perhaps he had been feeling sorry for the 

wrong person all along. "Misuto-san, we've come for your help 

and advice."



	The kami beamed. "Well! How sensible of you! In the old 

days, mortals used to come to the kami for help all the time, 

and we would give them dangerous and difficult tasks that 

often resulted in the horrible deaths of..." She noticed their 

expressions, and coughed delicately. "Of course, that was in 

the old days. How can I help you and your woman?"



	"I'm Toriiko," the hammer-wielding girl said. "I'm not his 

woman."



	Misuto blinked. "I'm sorry. A relative?"



	"An acquaintance," Toriiko said firmly.



	The kami seemed to consider that, then shrugged. "Modern 

relationships are so difficult to understand. Especially the 

ones without obvious copulation. I blame the decline of 

traditional moral values."



	"Of course," Soun agreed tactfully. He wasn't used to 

having to carry the modern point of view in a conversation. 

"We're looking for a demon that's recently come to Nerima, 

Misuto-san, and we were hoping that you could give us some 

advice on how to find it."



	"It's named Go-Jigokuoni," Toriiko said. "I can give you a 

complete description if you need one."



	"Why on Earth would you wish to find a demon?" Misuto 

said, clearly distressed. "They're not very nice."



	"Well, demon might be a bit of an inaccurate term," 

Toriiko admitted. "Although it does fit, in my opinion."



	"We're trying to find it so that we may dispatch the vile 

thing," Soun told the kami. "We can't have demons running 

around the neighborhood. It's bad for the property values, and it 

just isn't civilized."



	"That's the sort of heroic and manly attitude I'd expect 

from you, Tendo-san," Misuto said happily. "With the exception 

of you and Kiritsubo-san and Genma-sama, there doesn't seem 

to be much of the good old warrior honor left these days."



	"Kiritsubo has warrior honor?" he asked, somewhat taken 

aback. From what he had seen, Kiri's view of bushido was that 

it was a wonderful thing for other people to have.



	"Of course! Why, at this very moment she's off on a 

valiant crusade to liberate a sacred shrine from a cabal of evil 

monks!"



	Toriiko dragged him aside as he tried to come up with a 

diplomatic response. "Are you sure this woman can help us?" 

she whispered. "She may be a kami, but I think she left her 

grasp of reality back in heaven."



	"She's a mist and fog deity, and I am afraid it shows," 

Soun admitted. "But she _is_ capable of some pretty 

impressive feats. Besides, what have we to lose? Either she 

can tell us where Go-Jigokuoni is, or she cannot."



	"Point," Toriiko conceded. "Very well, Tendo-san."



	Putting on his most charming smile, Soun turned back to 

Misuto. "Can you help us find the foul thing, Misuto-san?"



	"Of course!" Misuto said happily. "With your woma... your 

lov... your acquaintance by your side, you will bravely face the 

ravening claws of the demonic horror, and be torn into small 

pieces. Your blood will mix and flow together towards the sea. 

Such tragedy!" She dabbed gleefully at her eyes. "Oh, I haven't 

seen a good doomed quest in ages!"



	Soun swallowed. "Misuto-san, I am expecting to win."



	"Oh, of course you are," the kami said cheerfully. "It's 

more tragic that way."



	"I don't think Go-Jigokuoni is quite _that_ fearsome," 

Toriiko said hurriedly. "I was expecting to defeat him all by 

myself, after all, so the two of us together should have a 

pretty good chance."



	"Oh," Misuto said, looking put out. "Well, that's hardly 

fair, is it?"



	Soun sighed. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Misuto-san, but 

I will not be fighting any suicidal duels in the foreseeable 

future. Can you please help us locate this eminently defeatable 

demon?"



	"Oh, very well," Misuto said, sulking ever so slightly. She 

raised her hands above her head, and the room filled with a 

thick white mist.



	It was quiet for some time. The white fog covered 

everything, blocking out the interior of Kiri's office. He was 

afloat in a cold blank void, and only the solid feel of the 

cement beneath his shoes convinced him that he was still in 

the garage.



	A hand, invisible in the mist, fumbled into his own. He 

took it, grateful for some solid, human contact, and gave it a 

reassuring squeeze. It was somewhat rough; calluses on the 

fingers from hard work. That was not unusual for any child of 

their era, especially one who still wore plain, practical monpe 

trousers. The fingernails were neatly trimmed, however, and 

the indentations they were leaving in his palm would be even 

and blunt.



	"I've found it!" Misuto's voice said cheerfully, the sudden 

noise almost making him jump. "It's not exactly a demon, but I 

suppose the word's as good a term as any. To be honest, I've 

never seen anything like this before."



	"My family is very inventive and innovative, in a Dr. 

Frankenstein sort of way," Toriiko said grimly. "If it's a 

hideous blasphemy against man and nature, we'll try and breed 

it."



	"Goodness. Well, it's taken up residence in Ant Town, in 

some debris."



	"That's redundant," Soun muttered.



	"Can you give us a map?" Toriiko asked hesitantly. "I'm 

not very familiar with Tokyo."



	"Oh, I can do better than that," Misuto said proudly. 

"Observe!"



	There was a disorientating wrench, and then the fog 

started to clear.



	"I think there's been some sort of mistake," Toriiko said 

nervously. "Were we supposed to appear in a tunnel made of 

scrap metal and broken concrete?"



	"Probably," Soun said, looking around. "Most of Ant Town 

is like this - rubble corridors and homes infested by vermin."



	"There are rats here?"



	"No, I was referring to the residents."



	"Oh."



	"Your demon is right down that corridor," Misuto told 

them. "We're under one of the largest piles of wreckage in the 

area, by the way, enclosing the ruins of five four-story 

apartment buildings. The locals seem to think it's haunted, and 

stay away from it."



	"Why, pray tell, do they think that?" Soun asked warily.



	"Rank superstition," Misuto assured him. "Typical of 

peasants."



	"That's good."



	"After all, there are far more earthly, natural 

explanations for severed and mutilated body parts than 

supernatural ones. It could merely be a serial killer, or an irate  

samurai, or a crazed monk, or..."



	"Thank you, Misuto-san," Soun hastily said. The news 

actually didn't dismay him that much; after all, they already 

knew that there was a demon in here. That was the whole point 

of this little trip. "Will you be accompanying us, or waiting 

here?"



	"I'll wait here," Misuto told him. "You would have a 

difficult time sneaking up on it if I came with you, and you 

would never get it to stand and fight. Kami and demons get 

along like bright light and cockroaches, or corporations and tax 

audits." She beamed. "See? I'm learning all about the modern 

world."



	"Most commendable," Soun told her awkwardly. "Just 

down the tunnel, then?"



	"More or less."



	"Right." He turned to his companion. "Ready, Toriiko-san?"



	"I suppose I am," she replied, grip tightening on her 

hammer.



	"Off we go, then," Soun said with a cheerfulness he didn't 

quite feel. The two set off down the tunnel, slowly, warily.



	Misuto watched them vanish into the blackness of the 

scraphill, and daintily fished out a handkerchief.



	"Oh, what tragedy!" she intoned happily, dabbing at her 

eyes.



****



	The two crept silently down the corridor. Well, mostly 

silently. It was hard to be properly sneaky when you kept 

stumbling over bits of debris in dim light.



	"We should have brought a flashlight," Toriiko whispered. 

"I can hardly see a thing."



	"Neither can I," Soun replied, somewhat nervous about 

that fact. He didn't relish the idea of having to fight a demon in 

near blackness. "I don't suppose this thing is stealthy and 

quiet?"



	"Go-Jigokuoni is anything but stealthy and quiet," Toriiko 

said fervently. "We'll hear him coming, don't worry about that." 

She paused, her face thoughtful in the dim shadows. "Although I 

don't really see how he could be down here. He's much too big 

to fit in these tunnels."



	"Perhaps they get larger up ahead," Soun said confidently. 

Misuto might be a bit scatterbrained at times, but her powers 

tended to work. If she said there was a demon in this mountain 

of scrap, there was a demon.



	They trudged on, through the concrete and twisted steel 

burrow, until a wall appeared before them. A windowframe, 

panes missing, gaped open in it.



	"Misuto said there were buildings buried under here," 

Soun said. "This must be one of them."



	"How long has it been here?" Toriiko said, looking at the 

bleak portal with foreboding.



	"Since the war," Soun said. "Ant Town used to be a 

residential and business district. After the bombing, the 

authorities had the rubble dumped here, and it's all just 

stayed." He sniffed slightly. "It's an eyesore, but many people 

make their living by salvaging wrecks brought here." He strode 

towards the window. "I expect the demon is somewhere inside. 

The interior is probably quite a bit more spacious than these 

tunnels."



	"But how would he get inside in the first place?"



	"There might be a larger opening somewhere else," Soun 

said. "You did say be was cunning, and good at hiding."



	"That's true," Toriiko said. Her fingers tightened on the 

hammer. "I'm sorry, Tendo-san. This place just makes me 

nervous."



	"Just stick close to me," Soun said comfortingly. "I've 

been in far worse places than this. I just got back from one, in 

fact, in Laos." He cautiously examined the window, then jumped 

through it, coming up in a roll.



	The room was large and empty, black dust covering it. A 

dim red light, fitful and ruddy, flickered somewhere beyond an 

empty doorframe in a far wall. The walls seemed strange, the 

dust forming shadows and shapes that somehow teased at his 

mind.



	"It is clear," he called softly. "I can see a glow up ahead, 

though."



	Toriiko hopped through the window, hammer at the ready. 

"He could fit in a place like this... I don't think that the glow is 

something he would make."



	"It's a place to start, though," Soun said. He walked 

across the room towards the door, and then stopped as he heard 

Toriiko's sudden gasp. "What is it?"



	She pointed at the walls, face unreadable in the shadows 

of the room.



	Soun looked. He saw nothing, save for the strange 

outlines of black, twisting in brachiated, grotesque forms that 

almost reminded him of human beings...



	"Ash," he said, suddenly seeing it. "The firestorms."



	The outlines seemed to scream in the silence.



	"Let's finish Go-Jigokuoni and leave," Toriiko said, her 

voice shaking. "I don't know if I can stand this place for much 

longer."



	Soun nodded, solemn but otherwise unperturbed. It was 

not in him to be afraid of the dead, burnt or buried or 

otherwise. He supposed it was different for women, though. 

"The faster we move, the faster we can resolve this," he said 

briskly, moving towards the doorway. Toriiko followed, 

subdued and silent.



	The doorway opened onto a stairwell, charred wooden 

bannisters winding down on rusting metal. The tile of the 

steps, once white, was a sort of pitted gray. It glowed fitfully 

in the ruddy orange light from below.



	Soun began the descent. He could hear the quickness of 

Toriiko's breathing behind him, and was glad that he had 

offered to help her. In her current mental state, he didn't think 

much of her chances against the demon.



	Odd. He sensed that it was their surroundings that 

frightened her, not the thing that lurked ahead. Women were 

often hard to understand.



	Outlines writhed on the stairwell walls. They descended, 

eyes avoiding the black clumps in the corner that resembled, 

but were not, were not charcoal.



	The glow grew harsher, seeming less like light and more 

like red darkness. They passed a doll, lying abandoned on a 

step. It smiled hopefully up at them, blue kimono dirty with 

ash, as if pleading to be taken with them. Soun ignored it.



	Down. A suitcase dangled from a twisted, broken section 

of railing, an almost empty shoe below it. Down. A fallen tea 

urn occupied an alcove, cups beside it full of dirty gray and 

white flecks, a neatly lettered sign urging residents to drink 

the fine, fresh brew, and to put a stitch on the cloth band in 

return. The spool of thread they found several steps down. It 

was bright red, and smeared and faded by ash. Down.



	They emerged into the building's lobby, and walked 

through it, past the stopped clock and the silent calendar of 

1945. The front door of the building was missing, and through 

the entryway they could see the flicker of fires.



	"She was wrong," Toriiko whispered, her voice raw with 

stress. "He's not down here. This is nothing like what he would 

prefer."



	"Misuto-san isn't wrong about these things very often," 

Soun said. Something about the tomb - for that was how it 

seemed, to him - was making him ill at ease. He supposed it 

was to be expected, with Go-Jigokuoni lurking in the wreckage, 

but it still nagged at him. "Let's have a look outside. If we don't 

find anything, we can go back and consult with the kami again."



	He watched determination and fear waver across 

Toriiko's face, fighting for control. No, he thought suddenly, 

not fear - not quite. Something else...



	"All right," she said. "Let's go on."



	They moved cautiously through the doorway, and stopped.



	They stood in an artificial cavern, the walls and roof 

formed of crumpled girders and fractured concrete. The floor 

of it was a typical street, eerie in its ordinary quality. A 

newspaper lay on the pavement like a dead bird with broken 

wings.



	Beyond the street, a pile of rubble rose in a mound. Hands 

rose pleadingly from it, blackened and twisted, flames burning 

from their fingertips. A bomber, olive-drab in color, sat atop 

the heap like a toad on a dunghill, watching them.



	"What is this place?" Toriiko whispered, aghast.



	"The home of something evil," Soun replied. He began to 

walk towards the mound of rubble, senses alert. "Time to 

finish this."



	Toriiko followed him, her hammer held tightly in a ready 

position. "This isn't what I came here for, Soun. This isn't him."



	"There is something foul here, and I don't feel like letting 

it stay," Soun said, crossing the street. "Perhaps your demon 

was more clever than he let on."



	They came to the foot of the mound, and gazed up at the 

bomber, ringed by burning hands. Soun frowned. It looked as 

though it had just landed; there was no damage, no crumpled 

metal, no bullet holes...



	"It's American," he said, pointing to the white star on the 

side of the plane. "I can't think why it would be down here; it's 

in almost perfect condition."



	"You're right," Toriiko said. "How strange." She pointed to 

the cockpit, where a cartoon of a sedan decorated the nose. 

"There's writing by that drawing. Can you read English?"



	"I can." He scrambled slightly up the rubble. "Oh. It's.... 

hmm." He frowned, trying to make sense of the words, then 

brightened. "Ah, I see. It's just the name of the aircraft. 'Bock's 

Car.' Perhaps Bock-san was the pilot, and..."



	He trailed off. Toriiko's face had gone a sickly gray. Her 

lips moved, once, twice, and then settled into a look of horror.



	"Is something wrong?"



	"Yes," she rasped. "We have to leave. Now."



	A cold feeling started to rise in Soun. "What's wrong?"



	The cockpit burst into light, red, ruddy, pestilential 

light. The reflected light of Hell, distilled and bottled.



	Inside, in the pilot's seat, a figure sat, proportions 

subtly wrong. Man shaped, but poorly distributed, as if a wax 

doll had been left too long in the sun.



	-hello children-



	"That's not Go-Jigokuoni, is it," Soun stated. His mouth 

was suddenly very dry.



	Toriiko shook her head, mute with terror, eyes reflecting 

the boiling red.



	-you disturb me from my rest   i am pleased   i have not 

dined in years   only on leavings of previous banquets-



	"Are you a demon?" Soun asked dumbly, mesmerized by 

the hideous glow. It was all he could think of to ask. "I've never 

heard of you..."



	It laughed, a soundless thing like an unuttered shriek. 



	-they birthed me across the sea in a wasteland   it was 

beautiful and i would make the world so   they fed me lizards 

and grasses   my father saw me draw breath and his soul 

recoiled  lo he said i am become death the destroyer of worlds   

in that instant i took my purpose-



	"There's a demon for every horrible thing that happens, 

isn't there?" Toriiko said, her voice shaking. "You were behind 

it all, weren't you?"



	-i ate what they fed me   i am young   i feasted twice   no 

more   but i wait   i am patient   i will have more feasts and 

larger ones   man bore me   i shall eat him   i ate your mother 

and i ate your father and i ate your sister and one day i will 

eat you too little girl-



	"Silence!" Soun snapped at it. "Demon or not, I'll deal with 

you." He began to advance up the pile of rubble, heedless of the 

roiling, bubbling, disfigured red light that now poured from the 

cockpit. He didn't know exactly what the thing was or 

represented, but he instinctively hated it.



	He also knew that it was far more powerful than he could 

handle, and that he was very probably going to be killed. That 

was all right; it wasn't going to let them escape anyway, and 

perhaps this way Toriiko would get a chance to run. He 

certainly expected her to. Whatever this thing was, it scared 

her in a way he couldn't completely understand.



	-you would fight the sun   brave fool   brave fools have 

always fed me and always will-



	Soun kept up his advance, trying desperately to think of a 

strategy to fight the thing with. His strongest technique, the 

Seven Righteous Demons Wrath, was probably useless against a 

supernatural creature. He had a variety of more conventional 

moves and katas, but he suspected that they would barely faze 

the thing. A pity he had no water... it was clearly a being of 

fire, and he had more faith in drowning it than beating it to 

death.



	He heard someone approaching behind him, and risked a 

glance. Toriiko was following him, hands clenched around her 

sledgehammer, a look of equal fear and anger in her eyes.



	-come here-



	They were almost to the bomber. The leprous red light 

churned, roiled, like a living, bubbling coal.



	-closer-



	Perhaps running would have been better after all?



	Toriiko stepped past him, weapon raised to strike at the 

glass of the cockpit, and then the world dissolved into white 

mist.



****



	"I'm sorry," Misuto said as the fog vanished, revealing the 

tunnel in which they had originally appeared. "It just occurred 

to me that the demon down there has been here for almost two 

decades, and so is probably not the one you were looking for. 

Did I interrupt anything?"



	"Sort of," Soun managed.



	"Oh dear. I can send you back if you like..."



	"NO!" the two hunters screamed in unison.



	"All right," the mist kami said soothingly. "I suppose it's 

all for the best. As far as I can tell, it's just some new sort of 

fire spirit, and not a very old one at that. I'm not entirely sure 

I understand his portfolio, but he probably wouldn't make much 

of an opponent in a good tragic saga."



	"Probably not," Soun said evenly. "Perhaps this wasn't a 

good idea."



	"Oh," Misuto said, disappointed. "It sounded like such a 

fine quest, too. Not enough heroes are ripped into quivering 

chunks in this day and age."



	"Look, which side are you on?" Toriiko snapped.



	"Side?" Misuto looked shocked. "I'm a kami, dear. I'm 

supposed to toy with both sides and then deliver a heartfelt 

eulogy over the bodies of the slain. It's in the job description."



	Soun rubbed his forehead, trying to look both calm and 

migraine-free. He failed. "Why don't we return to Kiritsubo's 

dwelling, and try again? With more.... detailed checking, 

perhaps? It would be embarrassing to kill the wrong eldrich 

horror, after all. We'd probably have to apologize to someone."



	"Well, all right." Misuto casually waved one hand, and the 

air filled with white vapor for the third time that day. "But I 

don't know what else I can really do for you. That was the only 

active supernatural being in Nerima, and even calling it 'active' 

is a bit of a stretch. 'Not locked in unbreakable slumber' is 

more accurate."



	The mist receded, revealing the relatively comforting 

sight of Kiri's front office. "He's not supernatural," Toriiko 

said, a hint of exasperation entering her voice. "He doesn't 

come from Hell or Limbo or Hades or Newark or any other 

fictional abyss. He's just a perfectly ordinary depraved freak 

of nature."



	"I thought you said he was a demon?" Misuto said, looking 

confused.



	"I said that he wasn't quite a demon, but that it was as 

good a term as any," Toriiko corrected. "I didn't even know that 

kami and demons really existed until today. There's nothing 

supernatural about Go-Jigokuoni, unless you count his ability 

to stun small mammals with his breath from ten meters away."



	"Oh, I see," Misuto said happily. "He's one of the things we 

call the Elder Beings of Failed Genetic Inheritance."



	"Which means?" Soun asked, feeling his brain start to 

overheat.



	"Freaks of nature," Misuto told him. "In the beginning, we 

kami and affiliated powers decided to emulate the Creator and 

do a bit of creating of our own. Some projects were quite good 

- we had a monk cut off his eyelids to create the tea plant, and 

had a virtuous farmer cut his own throat to create butterflies, 

and I personally drowned a family of six to produce water 

striders..."



	"I'm sensing a trend here," Toriiko whispered to Soun.



	"...but most of them were absolute disasters." Misuto 

shrugged. "I'm afraid planning and forethought has never been a 

virtue of non-monotheistic pantheons, even after 

Confucianism. You can understand how it goes... you're building 

a delicate mist fairy to delight and inspire a favored artist, 

and then you need to punish someone unexpectedly, so you graft 

a shark head onto the basic fairy chassis in a rush, and forget 

to hook up the nervous system properly or add stabilizers to 

offset the extra weight..." The kami sighed. "It would savagely 

gnaw your toes if you got close enough to it and if it wasn't 

having an epileptic fit at the time, but that really isn't a very 

efficient agent for divine wrath. Even in bulk."



	"I can certainly see that," Soun said, making a mental 

note to talk to Genma about the wisdom of having Misuto room 

with an inveterate tinkerer like Kiritsubo in light of this 

particular news. Visions of shark-headed, rocket-powered 

motorcycles kept rising unpleasantly to circle round and round 

in his mind. "So it died out of practice?"



	"For the most part," Misuto said. "We found it was more 

efficient and popular to just use stock dragons, invincible 

warriors, and horned oni from Supply. Your typical worshiper 

doesn't want innovation or creativity, he just wants a classic 

death-dealing monster whose head won't fall off because you 

forgot to hook up all the tendons." She shook her head. "It was 

always embarrassing when that happened."



	"Oh, I can imagine," Toriiko said blandly. "If you can't 

count on quality control from the divine scourges of heaven, 

what can you count on?"



	The mist kami beamed happily. "Oh, you _do_ understand! 

Yes, that's exactly it. At any rate, some of the old mistakes are 

still flopping around somewhere, usually in quiet or remote 

corners out the world. Some people think that's because they 

are treacherous and sneaky, but I think they're just ashamed to 

be seen in public, poor things."



	"Well, ours are treacherous and sneaky," Toriiko said. 

"And they've never been especially modest that I've noticed. 

That does sound a bit more in line with what the family 

breeds, though."



	"I'm afraid I can't really help you, then," Misuto said 

apologetically. "They aren't supernatural, just weird. I wouldn't 

know how to go about searching for such creatures." She 

thought for a second. "Perhaps if you put out a saucer of milk..."



	The door to the office swung open, and the huge, 

extremely battered form of Gosunkugi Bono staggered inside. 

He looked, Soun noted, about as worse for wear as he had after 

Saotome-sensei had forcefully ejected the big thug from the 

dojo. This interested him, as there were only a limited number 

of people in the city who could dish out such a pounding to the 

bulky salvage rat...



	His eyebrows shot up as two members of the cycle pack 

they had encountered earlier entered, Kiritsubo's motionless 

form slung between them. With exaggerated care, they 

deposited her on the cleanest of the office tatami mats.



	Misuto raised one hand to her mouth in a gesture of 

dismay. "Oh my. What happened?"



	"Monks," Gosunkugi rumbled mournfully, collapsing onto a 

metal folding chair.



	Soun stared at Kiritsubo. One side of her face was 

swelling into an attractive shade of purple, a knot was 

beginning to emerge from her hair like Mt. Fuji from the waves,  

and her concert t-shirt and leather jacket were stained with 

blood, as was the lower half of her face. Now and then she 

twitched slightly.



	"Monks?" he said faintly. He was pretty sure that 

Buddhist priests didn't go around doing this sort of thing on a 

regular basis. He was pretty certain that they couldn't had they 

wanted to. "What, did they gang up on her? Five to one, ten to 

one...?"



	"Two on one," one of the thugs said, sounding somewhat 

awed.



	Soun was pretty impressed himself. "Only two monks did 

this to Kiritsubo-san?"



	"No, one monk did this to Kiri AND Bono. At once." The 

biker sounded stunned. "He was some sort of monster. Bigger 

than Gosunkugi. Wider than Gosunkugi. More vicious than Kiri."



	Soun frowned slightly, professional interest piqued. He 

was fairly sure that he could take out a team of Kiri and Bono; 

Genma probably could as well. Saotome-sensei would have no 

trouble at all, and Kuonji Inji would undoubtedly be able the 

manage it. Those were the only four people in the city he would 

have bet capable of doing it.



	"I'm surprised Gosunkugi-san is the one left standing," he 

said absently.



	"That's because he had the sense to stay down after the 

first few times," the biker said.



	"Kiritsubo-san didn't?"



	"Kiri's stubborn. We thought for sure she'd throw in the 

towel after he broke a concrete wall with her, but no..."



	"That would be the knot on her head," Misuto said 

clinically. "How brutal."



	"Kiritsubo is usually on the other end of the word 

'brutal,'" Soun observed. "How long will the monk be in 

traction?"



	"Unhurt as far as we could see," the biker said. "He just 

dodged half of their attacks and ignored the other half." He 

shuddered. "That ain't human, man. Kiri can put holes in brick, 

and I seen Bono bend a lamppost with one hand once."



	Soun shrugged philosophically. "I suppose morality, 

justice, law, and order will just have to triumph today."



	Yeah. It's horrible," the biker said dejectedly. "The world 

has really gone to shit when a bunch of decent, hard-working 

criminals like us can't terrorize a devout religious group in 

peace." He brushes away a tear. "This just ain't the Japan my 

father was so proud of."



	"How will Bono face his many fans?" the giant moaned.



	"He has fans?" Toriiko quietly asked.



	"You wanna tell him he doesn't?" the biker whispered 

back.



	"I see your point," the demon hunter admitted. She turned 

to Soun and Misuto. "I don't suppose either of you have any more 

ideas?"



	Soun frowned, thinking. Misuto didn't seen to be much 

help - their quarry was not supernatural, and hence out of her 

sphere of expertise. "Well, we could continue to search the 

city, I suppose. I suspect that will take weeks at the least, 

however. Nerima is a very large ward, and there's no guarantee 

that he won't simply move on to another part of Tokyo, or even 

out of the city altogether." He sighed. "What we really need is 

an authority on abominations like th-"



	He ground to a halt, realizing with abject horror that he 

did in fact know such an expert.



	"Soun?" Toriiko asked.



	Soun's ethics quickly waged a silent battle with his 

survival instincts. Staying away from Takashi was his fondest 

dream of late. On the other hand, he'd promised to help the girl. 

He wanted to help her. She was trying to do the same sort of 

thing that he would have done in her place, and that meant a lot 

to him.



	"I do know someone who might be able to help," he 

admitted. "An archeologist."



	"Oh, him!" Misuto said eagerly. "Yes, I saw him while 

scrying on your trip. He seemed quite capable."



	"Scrying?" Soun inquired, frowning. "Is that anything like 

spying?"



	"A bit," the mist kami said cheerfully. "But it's all right 

for me to do it; I have a license. Does Nodoka usually fondle 

Kiritsubo-san, or was it just the heady excitement of the 

voyage?"



	The room seemed to spin slightly. Soun closed his eyes 

and counted to ten, reminding himself that they'd been through 

this already, and that Nodoka had a perfectly good and proper 

explanation, even if no-one could quite figure out what it was.



	"He can help us, then?" Toriiko asked hopefully.



	"I think so," Soun said. "His offices are across town, so 

we should probably get moving."



	"Oh, I can just do a teleport," Misuto said grandly. "Divine 

assistance is the hallmark of any successful quest."



	"That would be very helpful, Misuto-san," Soun said, 

beaming. There were times when it was nice to know the gods, 

or at least a god, were well and truly with you.



	The mist kami made a absent gesture, and the now-

familiar fog swirled around them. It hung in the air for several 

seconds, leaving them adrift in a white void.



	The fog began to thin.



	"Something smells wonderful," Toriiko said, sniffing the 

air. "Does this guy live over a bakery?"



	Alarm bells exploded in Soun's mind.



	The fog thinned away, revealing a kitchen, a well-

appointed spice table, an oven, and a figure in a pink frilly 

'Piyo-Piyo' apron.



	"Oh, good," Kuonji Inji said mildly, reaching into his 

apron and extracting a twin-pronged knife. "Just a 

smokescreen. For a second there I thought my scones were 

burning. Hello, Tendo. Is there any reason I shouldn't kill you?"



	"He doesn't seem very helpful," Misuto said 

disapprovingly. "You there! If you assist these noble lovers, I 

shall allow you to bask in my divine glory and worship me."



	Inji just stared, for once seeming to be completely at a 

loss for words.



	"This is the person you thought would help us?" Toriiko 

asked warily.



	"No. This is the person who almost killed me in Laos," 

Soun said grimly, slipping into a combat stance. "Run for the 

door. I'll try to hold him long enough for you to escape."



	"The hell you say," Toriiko snapped, raising her hammer.



	Inji recovered his composure, staring balefully at the 

mist kami. "I do not worship old women."



	"Old women?" Misuto said dangerously. "I don't see any 

old women here, peasant."



	"There's a mirror over the sink," Inji told her.



	Misuto twitched slightly.



	"Really, Tendo, do you make a habit of traveling with 

neurotic female mental cases?" Inji said curiously. "If so, 

could you please keep them away from me? First Miss Nezumi, 

and now this... babbling lunatic..."



	Misuto's left eyebrow developed a distinct tic. Thunder 

rumbled in the distance.



	"Kuonji, you might wish to phrase that differently," Soun 

said slowly.



	"You still haven't told me why you get to keep breathing," 

Inji said cheerfully. "You've got three seconds, and then-"



	"Silence, maggot," Misuto interrupted, voice sweet. "I'm 

deliberating over your fate."



	"The madwoman dies the next time she opens her mouth," 

Inji told them.



	"I thought I told you to be silent?" Misuto snapped.



	Inji moved forward in a dizzying blur, the pronged knife 

lashing out in a flash of silver. 



	Then he flew backwards, sputtering, as a cone of 

compressed, superheated steam burst from Misuto's lips. The 

archeologist crashed against the far wall, exposed skin the 

angry red of a freshly-boiled lobster.



	"Cool," Toriiko said, impressed.



	"Aren't I?" Misuto said proudly. "That was a pretty basic 

smite, but I feel it's a very stylish and elegant one."



	"Shi ne," Inji hissed, lunging at her again.



	The steam once against shot forth, but Inji had been 

ready. The gangster slid and dodged low, knife weaving in 

serpentine fashion, and then stabbed sharply upwards.



	The knife, the hand, and Inji's entire upper arm passed 

through Misuto's chest without resistance.



	Inji stared, and experimentally waved the knife around. It 

moved through her upper body as if through fog.



	"Ahem," he said. "I think there's been some sort of 

mistake. You're supposed to bleed and fall down at this stage in 

the proceedings."



	"Kami don't bleed," Misuto told him. "Especially when we 

choose to be composed of colored mist instead of actual flesh."



	Inji poked irritably at her stomach with the knife. "This 

isn't very fair."



	"I'm afraid the relationship between the kami and 

mortals has never been a fair one," Misuto told him. "You're 

welcome to complain to the Creator if you like."



	"Will that help?"



	"No, not really."



	"I didn't think so." Inji sighed, and stepped back, the knife 

vanishing back into his apron. "Tendo, why are you and your 

kami in my kitchen? Since threatening to kill you obviously 

isn't going to get rid of you, I suppose I might as well try 

conversation."



	"It's all a mistake, actually," Soun told him stiffly. "We 

were looking for Takashi."



	"Yes, looking for Takashi is a mistake," Inji agreed. "But 

he's in Peru at the moment, searching for a lost city of tin or 

some such foolishness. Don't ask me for directions."



	"You're an archeologist?" Toriiko said curiously.



	"I like to think so," Inji said cheerfully.



	"We're looking for a creature that's recently come to 

Tokyo," Toriiko said. "Soun seemed to think that this Takashi 

could help."



	"We both have some small experience with exotic 

beasts," Inji said, nodding. "What does this thing look like?"



	"It's big, with red and black skin, hooves, tusks, blazing 

red eyes, breath like a diseased dingo, a vicious temper..."



	Inji frowned. "Quite odd. I remember getting reports 

about this from an employee a few days ago." He glanced at his 

oven anxiously. "Look, I'm in the middle of my weekly baking. 

Give me a phone number where you can be reached, and I'll call 

you tonight with whatever I can find."



	"Thank you," Toriiko said, bowing at the waist. Inji 

politely returned it.



	"This is uncharacteristically decent of you, Kuonji," Soun 

said neutrally.



	"She asked me politely," Kuonji said mildly. "I can be 

quite decent to people who don't cheat me at cards, blow up my 

boat, take my rightful artifacts, and appear uninvited in my 

kitchen with loud Shinto divinities."



	He had a point, Soun supposed, although a very small one. 

"Well. Thank you, then."



	"You're welcome," Inji said, opening the oven. A rush of 

warm, scented air wafted out, filling the kitchen with the odor 

of bread and apricots. "Tendo. Don't think I've forgotten about 

Laos. Or about Kasigi. He's earned a special place in my 

heart."



	"I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear it," Soun replied, 

feeling slightly deflated. It was just like Genma to get all the 

really good vendettas. Damn his luck, anyway!



	"You can call us with the information at Nerima 2355, 

Extension Six," Misuto told the archeologist politely. "Please 

don't call after 11, because..."



	"...Kiritsubo will be thoroughly drunk by then, it being a 

Thursday, and why is the information going to her?" Inji 

finished, raising a questioning eyebrow.



	"Kiritsubo-san deigns to allow me to dwell there because 

of her great piety and veneration."



	"She said yes in a moment of weakness and is stuck with 

you," Inji translated. "I think Kiri-kun must have been a lot 

happier before becoming such a soft touch."



	The fact that Inji regarded Kiritsubo as a 'soft touch' 

said something rather foreboding about the man, Soun decided. 

"Sorry to trouble you, Kuonji. Misuto?"



	"Hai?"



	"Home, please."



	"Hai!"



	Fog enveloped them.



	"I'm almost starting to get used to this," Toriiko 

commented. "It's faster than walking, anyway."



	"And dryer," Soun said. "I thought I noticed a few 

raindrops sprinkling against the window in Kuonji's kitchen."



	"The newspaper said it's going to rain." Her voice sounded  

almost sad. "I've never been fond of that. It's good not to have 

to be out in it."



	The fog vanished, revealing the parking lot outside of 

Inji's office.



	"I'm afraid I don't have enough power left to get you back 

to the garage," Misuto told them. "Sorry."



	"How far away from it are we?" Tojiiko asked.



	"About ten miles," Soun replied glumly. "I hope Kuonji 

doesn't call before we get there."



	"Oh, that's okay!" Misuto chirped. "I can still teleport 

myself! I'll go watch the phone for you."



	She vanished.



	"Mist kami, all right," Toriiko said resignedly. "A head 

full of vapor."



	"She'd be useful for keeping the rain off, though," Soun 

said, glancing at the damp circles speckling the pavement. "It 

doesn't seem to be that bad out, fortunately."



	Thunder boomed.



	Without further fanfare, the heavens opened and began to 

pour.



	"You just had to say it."



	"Well, it was true!"



	"Tendo-san, don't take this wrong, but you are the most 

goofily naive person I've ever met."



	"I am not goofy," Soun told her, doing his best to radiate 

an air of wounded dignity. 



	"Not in a bad way." She looked up at the rain, flinched, 

and slung her sledgehammer back into its shoulder harness. 

"C'mon. Let's not stay wet any longer than we have to. I meant 

what I said about not liking the rain."



	Soun started walking. "We go this way. We're in the 

university area now, and we want to make for the slums around 

Ant Town."



	"Away from your friend with the knife, at least." She 

slowed, looking at him curiously. "Is everyone you know so... 

distinct? They're all very interesting people, if not all very 

nice."



	"I know many nice people. Most of them are very boring. 

Well, except for Nodoka."



	"Nodoka?"



	"A girl I'm interested in. Was interested in. I'm not sure." 

He sighed. "I've been in love with her for a long time, but she 

was always interested in someone else. She still is, and I'm 

not getting anywhere. And... well... I'm starting to think that 

maybe she isn't really the person I thought she was."



	"Are you still in love with her?"



	"Yes. But I think I'm getting over it." He chuckled sadly, 

feeling a certain pain at finally having said it out loud. "I 

understand I'm supposed to feel bitter and resentful, but I 

don't. I still think she's a wonderful person, and I want her to 

be happy."



	"That's a healthy attitude to take, I suppose." Toriiko 

shrugged slightly. "I haven't had many problems like that. No-

one ever visits our farm, so there's not a lot of opportunity to 

develop a crush."



	"Because of the things your family breeds?"



	"Yeah. My sister likes it, but she's as bad as the rest of 

them. Worse, even. I've been trying to branch out into more 

acceptable fields, but they've been giving me a hard time about 

it."



	"Engineering? Veterinary practice? Farming?"



	"Necromancy, actually."



	Soun blinked. "Necromancy is a more acceptable field?"



	"Well, you get to wear a lot of cool black clothing, and 

you don't have to clean up and care for a sick freak of nature. 

And dead people have always been a personal interest. But it 

didn't seem to be very socially acceptable either, and my 

teacher was sort of an evil sociopath, so I gave it up."



	That certainly put her in a new light. "Well, I'm glad to 

hear that. What's your new goal, now that you've come to the 

big city?"



	"I want to be a dentist."



	Soun winced. "I suppose that's marginally better than 

demon-raising and necromancy. Have you ever considered going 

into a career not broadly hated by the rest of humanity?"



	"Well, I thought about getting a job with the government."



	"Oh?"



	"Yes, with the revenue service."



	Soun slowly shook his head.



	Toriiko laughed sheepishly. "I guess I'm not a people 

person."



	"That's just it, though," Soun said, confused. "You seem 

like a really nice girl."



	"It's kind of you to say so," she mumbled, coloring 

slightly.



	The rain hammered down.



	"Only about eight miles left," Soun said, feeling the need 

to break a potentially awkward silence. "Maybe the rain will 

stop soon."



	She turned her face away.



****



	They were thoroughly soaked by the time they arrived at 

Joe's Garage. The rain had beat down upon them with a sullen, 

slightly vengeful evenness, and Soun felt fairly miserable. But 

miserable in companionship, which took the edge off it.



	There was a horde of motorcycles parked in haphazard 

lines in front of the building, and the lights were burning 

inside, silhouetting a crowd of people against the office 

windows of oiled paper. Kiri had company.



	"The same group as last time?" Toriiko asked, gratefully 

moving under the eaves of the garage. She shook her arms and 

head, sending droplets flying.



	"Probably," Soun said. He looked at the assembled 

vehicles. "The van is new, though."



	It was new, and somewhat ominous. While the garage saw 

all kinds of vehicles pass through it, a bright red van with the 

logo 'PGMALB' in violent yellow letters on the side was 

unusual.



	"Maybe they're having a party, and it's the catering 

service?" Toriiko volunteered.



	"It's possible," Soun said doubtfully. "I can see 

Kiritsubo's associates stealing a party van."



	"Well, let's get in where it's warm." Toriiko walked to 

the door, opened it, and stepped inside. Soun followed.



	The office was crowded with people; the door to the 

garage area had been opened, and they could see that it was 

packed as well. Most of the people present were the riffraff 

Kiri usually dealt with; bikers, thieves, and thugs. A group of 

twenty people in bright red jumpsuits and ski masks caught 

Soun's eye immediately. Hadn't they been on the news?



	Kiritsubo was mounting a makeshift podium at the rear 

of the garage, her face swathed in bandages. Misuto and 

Gosunkugi Bono stood on either side of her, looking somewhat 

outraged.



	Outrage. Righteous outrage. Soun realized to his vast 

surprise that that was what he was feeling from the crowd; 

the civic anger of the good citizen faced with an atrocity. It 

didn't really suit a group of people who would be in jail if the 

police were less corrupt or more efficient.



	"Is your friend really that well liked?" Toriiko 

whispered. "I'm sensing some pretty intense indignation here."



	"No," Soun whispered back. "Most of them would happily 

kill her if they thought they could get away with it. I don't 

understand it either."



	Kiri rapped sharply on the edge of her packing-crate 

podium. "Right! Most of you people have heard what's up, but I'm 

gonna say it again anyway. There's a bunch of teetotaler monks 

occupying the Hagetaka, and they ain't letting it open for 

business."



	The crowd rumbled. Soun frowned; this was old news, and 

it didn't seem like a reason for...



	"But that's not the worst of it!" Kiri gestured to the group 

of impassive figures in red. "In a rare moment of unity, the, er, 

People's Glorious Marxist Animal Liberation Brigade has come 

to us with an offer to help..."



	Soun choked. THAT was where he had seen them before, in 

the newspaper!



	"Didn't they blow up a zoo?" Toriiko hissed.



	"And a bank," Soun whispered back. "And a pet shop. 

They're animals."



	"They'd probably take that as a compliment."



	The crowd was making similar noises. Kiri held up a 

soothing hand. "Now, hold up. I know we ain't fond of the nice 

terrorists on the whole, but the news they brought was enough 

to make a alliance worth it."



	The bikers reluctantly stopped muttering, although 

vicious glances were still shot towards the Marxists.



	"The monks..." Kiri grimaced, and theatrically wiped a 

tear from her eye. "The evil, cruel, monks..."



	"IT SO SAD!" Bono bawled.



	"They're killing poor, cute, helpless kittens!" Kiri said 

angrily. "Roasting them over an open fire and eating them!"



	A shocked, appalled silence settled over the room. These 

were hardened criminals, the dregs of society, vicious thugs 

and amoral thieves. But even they weren't cruel to animals. 

That was evil of a whole different level.



	"I have a cat named Mr. Scraps," a one-eyed biker 

declared. "Mr. Scraps would be very, very sad if I didn't gut 

these horrible people."



	"What kind of inhuman monster eats adorable kittens?" 

piped up a man in a 'HELL'S RIPPERS' jacket. "This is a sick 

society we live in."



	"Are we going to let these scum deny us our alcohol 

while they shishkabob poor, defenseless animals?" Kiri orated. 

"Do we have no pride? No self-respect? No sharp, monk-cutting 

blades?"



	The phone rang on the office desk. Toriiko quickly pushed 

through the crowd to pick it up. "Hello? Oh, Kuonji-san! I see... 

yes? Oh. Yes, that's him. I see. No, we'll be able to get there. 

Thank you. That's very kind of you. Yes. Thank you. Goodbye."



	Soun edged over to her as she put the phone down. "Was 

that Inji?"



	"Yes. He's found him."



	Soun glanced at the crowd. "Let me guess. He's with a 

bunch of monks in Ant Town."



	Toriiko nodded. "They must be feeding him a steady diet 

of cats in order to keep him in line. No wonder your friend got 

such a beating."



	Misuto walked over to them, wiping delicately at her 

eyes with a lace handkerchief. "Isn't this tragic? The kami 

have a special hell for those who are cruel to small animals."



	"Cruelty to animals has its place," Toriiko said firmly. 

"But this thing needs to be stopped, monks or no monks."



	"How heroic!" Misuto said approvingly. "One of you can die 

beneath its savage hooves, and then the other can kill it, 

lament, and commit ritual suicide!"



	"You're not a very nice kami sometimes," Toriiko said 

irritably. "We're not going to die for your sense of drama, 

okay?"



	Misuto looked stricken. "Tendo-san?"



	"I'm sorry, but I have no intention of dying. Dramatically 

or otherwise."



	The mist kami sighed. "Mortals. You're going to die 

eventually anyway, you know. Can't you make it artistic?"



	"Perhaps later," Soun said evenly.



	Kiri strolled past them. "Hey, Soun, you here to help?"



	"Yes," he replied. The notion of helping thugs and 

terrorists rankled, but there was a saying about strange 

bedfellows...



	"Good. You can Kung-Fu the big dude." She pointed to two 

of the bikers. "You and the chick with the hammer can ride with 

Yuiichi and Kozo there. That cool?"



	"That's fine."



	"Right." She squinted at him. "Say, why are you helping?"



	"I want to defeat Go-Jigokuoni in combat, saving Nerima 

from his cat-eating ways and evil plans."



	"Uh, yeah. Stupid question. Sorry." Kiri departed, shaking 

her head slightly.



****



	The Hagetaka nestled deep in the bowels of Ant Town. It 

had been a seaplane carrier, bombed and torpedoed in Tokyo 

Bay, and had been one of the first pieces of scrap to be hauled 

into the junkyard/residential district. The ship was now half-

buried in a mound of debris, which provided both stability and 

camoflague. It was a lively place below decks, with drinks, 

dancing, live music, and a clientele famous in post offices 

around Japan.



	Soun knew all this, which was why the sight of a prayer 

gate at the entrance to it was almost as disturbing to him as 

to the rest of the horde.



	The bikes slowed. On the deck of the seaplane, saffron-

clad figures began appearing.



	A terrified cat streaked out of a hatch, and made a dash 

towards the bikers, who closed ranks around it protectively. 

The monks looked on with an air of smug serenity.



	Kiri motored her way up to the front of the pack, 

dismounted, and glared up at the holy men. "Right! We're here to 

evict you bozos! Get lost, or get dead."



	One of the monks yawned loudly. "We've been through this 

before. You might as well go away. We will keep this immoral 

den closed, and there's nothing you can do about it. Buddha has 

sent us one of his great warriors, the Cleanser of the Altar, 

the Second Disciple of the Buddha Tripitaka!"



	In the crowd, Toriiko made a disgusted noise. "The idiot's 

mistaken Go-Jigokuoni for a Buddhist hero, of all things," she 

said to Soun. "What a disgrace."



	"That may be so," Kiri said. "But we've got some 

champions of our own. Send out your boy, and we'll hurry him 

along to his next life."



	"Truly, the foolish are slow learners," the monk intoned. 

"I shall pray for you to learn wisdom from your intense and 

brutal imminent suffering."



	A huge, robed figure emerged from behind the monks. It 

made a single leap, and landed on the ground before the 

seaplane.



	Soun stared. It was titanic, easily the size of a mid-

sized car, and powerfully built. There was something oddly 

familiar about the stance, too...



	"That's him," Toriiko hissed, utter hatred filling her 

voice.



	The wind picked up, whipping away Go-Jigokuoni's robes. 

Soun stared at the snout, the red eyes, the floppy ears, the 

hooves, the tusks...



	"Face the wrath of the Disciple Pigsy!" the head monk 

cackled gleefully. "He protected Blessed Tripitaka on his 

journey to India, and now he will crush the enemies of heaven!"



	Soun looked at Toriiko. "That is not a demon."



	"We've been through this," she mumbled.



	"That is a pig."



	"I know!" she snarled. "I hate pigs. You can't comprehend 

how much I despise those unholy abominations of nature!"



	He rubbed his forehead. "All this... drama, and it's just an 

extremely large pig?" A deep sense of disappointment settled 

over him. He had expected a heroic battle with a fiend from 

hell, not a hand at impromptu stockyard work.



	Go-Jigokuoni grunted expectantly, squatting on its hind 

legs. With a long-suffering look, Soun walked forward. To think 

that he, a trained martial artist of the Saotome-ryuu, was 

reduced to dealing with overgrown hogs...



	"Don't underestimate him, Soun!" Toriiko called out 

behind him. "That's no ordinary boar!"



	Soun said nothing, having begun to suspect that his 

companion might be a tad obsessed. Still, a quick rap on the 

skull, and then...



	*WHAM*CRUNCH*SLAM*THROW*



****



	"Tendo? C'mon, Tendo, snap out of it!"



	"Soun? Are you okay?"



	"Such tragedy!"



	Soun's eyes slowly opened and refocused. Kiri, Misuto, 

and Toriiko all stared anxiously down on him.



	With effort, he pulled himself to his feet. Go-Jigokuoni 

was pacing back and forth on the other side of the scrapyard 

clearing, snorting contentedly.



	"That was not normal for pigs," Soun said slowly. Nothing 

seemed to be broken...



	"My family raises Sumo Pigs," Toriiko said. "I tried to 

tell you. He's not our strongest, but he excels at the art."



	"Who on Earth would raise giant sumo pigs?" Soun wailed. 

"What deviant mind..."



	"Imagine growing up with these people," Toriiko 

muttered. "I want to kill every last pig in existence. They're 

unclean, they stink, they get sick all over your best dress..."



	Go-Jigokuoni casually picked up a cat.



	Soun's mind noted with horror but no surprise that the 

cat was little, marmalade, had a funny ear, and wore a collar. 

Typical.



	"That's it," he snarled. "It dies!"



	His flying kick sent the pig stumbling. Go-Jigokuoni 

grunted in pain, squatted, and executed a side-kick that came 

within an inch of connecting. Soun noted the technique, and 

unleashed a series of punches into the thing's midsection.



	The pig responded by trying to gore him.



	Soun stumbled backwards as a tusk ripped a line of blood 

along one arm. The thing wasn't as fast as he was, he noted, 

but the sheer size of it and the layers of fat made it difficult 

to damage. It had a surprising level of technique, as well, for a 

dumb animal.



	As he retreated, Toriiko rushed it from the size. She spun 

her hammer, aimed, and sent the sledge crashing into the side 

of the pig's skull.



	Go-Jigokuoni wobbled, grunted, and lashed out with his 

foreleg in a vicious punch. Toriiko went sailing backwards, 

landing with a thud against a pile of rubble.



	Soun began to become truly, deeply angry.



	He darted in and out, administering punishing blows with 

cold precision. Go-Jigokuoni snorted in pain and attacked him 

with tusk and hoof, but Soun knew the pig's style now. The              

sumo strikes sailed harmlessly past.



	Toriiko staggered back up, battle aura now almost in the 

visible range, and sent her hammer flying into the pig's throat. 

Go-Jigokuoni choked, spun, and sat down heavily on the new 

attacker.



	A collective groan of sympathy went up. Toriiko's 

protruding legs kicked feebly a few times, then settled down 

to spasmodic jerking.



	The pig gave an evil grunting chuckle, and then broke 

wind.



	The groan this time had sympathy and disgust in equal 

measure. Soun forced himself not to faint from the smell, 

focusing instead on his newly-discovered utter hatred of this 

abomination.



	"Overgrown pork chop of Satan," he hissed, and opened up 

on it with a full-force Righteous Seven Demons Wrath.



	The spectators shrieked as one. Go-Jigokuoni's eyes 

glazed over with terror as its tiny but evil brain went offline 

from sheer fright.



	Soun carefully hauled Toriiko's twitching form out from 

under it. "Are you all right?"



	"Oxygen," she moaned. "I... hate the... smell... of... pig..."



	The marmalade kitten hopped up onto her chest and began 

to lick her face.



	"Well, all's well that ends well," Soun said, picking up 

her discarded hammer and eying the stunned pig's forehead 

speculatively. "Neko-chan is safe, the evil is defeated, and... 

hmm... do these things cook well?"



	"I have a great recipe for pork ribs," Toriiko rasped, still 

trying to catch her breath.



	"YAY!" A pink-dressed form bounced up, and glomped onto 

Soun. "You found Neko-chan!"



	"Indeed I have, Amakuchi-chan," Soun said contentedly, 

picking up the cat and handing it to her. "And just in time, too. 

It was in danger from a great evil."



	"A scary, nasty, bad evil!" Amakuchi squealed.



	"Yes. Fortunately, I arrived in time to save it from the 

gaping maw of the hideous beast." Soun felt a warm glow fill 

him - the knowledge of a job well done, and an ego well sated. 

"It put up quite a fight, but..."



	He trailed off in horror as the girl flounced over to Go-

Jigokuoni, pried open his mouth, and stuffed in the cat. The pig 

reflexively chewed. There was a pitiful crunching sound.



	"Poor Neko-chan!" Amakuchi cooed. "Wassums hungry?"



	"That's... that's..." Soun stammered.



	The girl beamed at him. "Thank you for saving Neko-chan 

from my mean ol' sister, Tendo-san!"



	"Sister?" Soun said weakly.



	"Unfortunately," Toriiko mumbled. "She's a bit of a freak, 

gives the pigs pet names, actually likes the damn things. I 

thought you were looking for a pet cat, Soun?"



	"I thought so too," Soun muttered.



	"I named him Neko-chan 'coz he likes cats!" Amakuchi 

bubbled. "He's littler than the others, but I like him best! He's 

my Neko-chan!"



	"Ah," Soun said.



	"Thank you so much, Tendo-san!" Amakuchi squealed, 

glomping him happily. "You're so nice and brave! You're my 

hero!"



	"Ah," Soun said.



	"You're the coolest man in the whole wide world!" she 

proclaimed happily. "Yaaaaaaaay Soun!"



	"Ah," Soun said.



	He glanced at Toriiko.



	Then he carefully picked up the sledgehammer and 

methodically beat Go-Jigokuoni's tiny, evil brain into a fine 

paste.



****



	"I'm sorry about my sister biting you like that."



	"It's okay, really," Soun said for the sixth time. "Losing a 

beloved pet is always hard."



	"I suppose so," Toriiko said.



	The bus station was silent for a moment.



	"She really is a bit of a deranged freak, isn't she," Soun 

commented.



	"You have no idea," Toriiko said fervently. "The rest of 

the family is a bit better, but not by much."



	"But you're going back anyway?"



	She sighed. "I sort of have to. I hadn't realized how 

expensive things were in the city. A year of work back home, 

and I'll have enough saved up to come back."



	"I see." He hesitated, feeling somewhat stiff and formal, 

and then handed her his card. "Here's my number, in case you 

need some help, or a guide to the city, or would like dinner. Or, 

uh, if you just want, maybe, ah, to write?"



	Toriiko smiled. "That would be nice. I could use 

intelligent conversation. Even goofy intelligent conversation."



	The bus pulled up to the curb, and she walked towards it, 

stopped, and then ran back. She pulled a card from the pocket 

of her monpe, pressed it into his hand, and gave him a quick 

kiss on one cheek.



	Then she ran back to the bus, hammer slung casually over 

one shoulder, and vanished inside. It pulled away, moved down 

the street, disappeared into the traffic of a Tokyo morning.



	Soun stood there for a second, and then examined the 

card.



	/ Unryuu Toriiko

	/ Obuka Farm, Shigamo Ward

	/ Nagasaki



	He carefully placed the card in his wallet, smiled 

slightly, and started home.



-----------------------------



		It was rather refreshing not to be involved in such 

	a debacle for once. Soun didn't talk much about it; I had 

	to pry most of the details out of Kiri and Misuto. He did, 

	however, keep up a running correspondence with her for 

	the rest of the year.



		It did not surprise me when an Unryuu came poking 

	around a few years ago, when you were sixteen. History 

	will repeat itself, and we have a special sort of destiny 

	hanging around us that draws the blood of many old 

	players back into the heart of matters. Then, too, some of 

	it has been carefully orchestrated...



		But I'm getting ahead of myself.



		Don't go looking for the demon under the depths of 

	Ant Town. Soun went after it much later in his career, 

	when he was half out of his mind. I do not know if he 

	destroyed it; he returned half dead, and took some time 

	to recover. Whether he did or not, what it represented 

	was always more of a curse than a mere diabolic symbol 

	could ever be. Frightening, when the suffering wrought by 

	mortal man outstrips that of the divine.



		As for Inji, well, I trust his scones came out fine.



		It was nice to be left out of an adventure. It 

	wouldn't last, of course...

	







C&C, as always, craved. ^_^





- Susan Doenime

Brisbane, U of Q

"I hit the streets / They watched me in the monitor..."









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