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...