The Kaiju that came for Christmas.

Paul stood in the cool grey light of pre-dawn, wondering what he was doing there. The beach was a study in monotones, grey sky, white sand, black sea and rocks. Inari and Kiko were a short way up the beach behind him, Inari sleepily leaning against Kiko, who wasn’t all that awake herself.

Tatsuo had arrived back at the mountain a few hours earlier, just after midnight. He’d looked care-worn, frayed around the edges metaphorically. He and Katsu had been missing for just over a week, with not a word from them. Paul had refused to worry himself too much. They were both capable people and as far as anyone could tell, they’d reached the train station in Tokyo safely enough without any sign of pursuit. Where they’d gone from there had been a mystery.

Katsu had phoned her father’s office from the station, and left a voice message asking him not to be concerned, and that she would contact him in a few days. Paul didn’t think the hunters were a serious threat any more, as they’d found themselves the hunted overnight. Investigations were ongoing, but Division 3 was no more, the majority of them having been arrested or suspended pending review for the smaller fry.

Besides, Paul mused, he’d been too busy to worry too much.

There had been days when he wondered if he had a touch of second sight, as well as Sight. He’d told Inari that the real work was only just beginning at the end November. The days following had proven just how accurately prophetic that was.

This December, Japan had woken up to the fact that Yokai, ‘Others’, were real and that their beloved Emperor was one. Specifically a Ryu or dragon, which perhaps shouldn’t have come as a surprise given that the Imperial line claimed unbroken descent from the First Emperor of Japan, Jimmu, who was, according to mythology at least, the grandson of the Sea God Watatsumi, who was described as a sea dragon, and thus the great-grandson of the Goddess Amaterasu, who was also known to take on the form of a dragon at times.

So far, the public response had been positive. The day after the Emperor’s special address to the Diet and the nation in general, had seen a veritable tsunami of interest. Kami town had almost doubled in population over-night; mostly reporters and news crews, it had to be said. The local police force was so overwhelmed trying to organise them, and stop any and all of the local yokai from being swarmed, that the mayor had put in a request to the Japanese Self Defence Force for assistance.

Inari had done something to the boundary stones as well, after she caught a paparazzi photographer trying to get a picture of her undressing in the bath-house. Now it was physically impossible to cross the boundary, except at the torii gate. There also appeared to be a heavy mist surrounding the mountain; at least, from the outside. From the inside of the mountain’s boundaries, the air was as clear as ever.

Paul had talked himself hoarse before the end of the first day after the Emperor’s speech. He’d actually been relieved to see the olive green uniforms of the Japanese Self Defence Force turn up, even though he wasn’t in general in favour of military intervention. But the primary role of the JSDF was as a search and rescue organisation, and the way people were flooding into town it was taking on the appearance of the aftermath of a natural disaster!

The advantage of being Inari’s Herald was that his voice carried the weight of her authority. The disadvantage as far as Paul was concerned, was that everyone that Inari didn’t talk to, tried to talk to her through him. There was, however, something very satisfying about being able to tell some self-important government official to go sit on a bamboo shoot, to use a colourful Japanese metaphor.

Still, Paul reflected as he watched the slow swell of the slate-grey sea, the past week had been one filled with incredible amounts of activity. Small mana convertors were going up everywhere: the only reason they weren’t being cranked out faster was a lack of crystals. There was already a lab producing synthetic ones in town, but it wasn’t up and running just yet. So far, the Oni had control of the only source…

Which is why he’d been glad to see Tatsuo turn up at the kitchen door, looking like a starving wolf. He hadn’t said much, only that he and Katsu had taken the train to the coast, narrowly avoiding a small team of hunters, and from there had taken to sea aboard a vessel owned by a family friend.

Where Katsu was now, he hadn’t said, only saying that they had to meet here… and that there was something wrong with her.

Paul glanced to where Tatsuo stood next to him. The young Oni was normally stoic to a fault, but he looked nervous, worried even. Which meant that if it showed, inwardly he was probably frantic.

“Hey, Tatsuo, care to tell me what’s going on?”

Tatsuo shook his head slowly.

“No, Paul-san. She’ll be here soon, no words could explain it until then.”

Paul sighed, looking round the small bay to the west of Kami town. It wasn’t much more than a pocket of sand and shingle a couple of hundred metres across, trapped between cliffs either side. In summer it was a semi-popular surfing spot, but in the dead of winter the only other inhabitants were some seagulls perched on the converted cargo containers that were a surf-shack in summer.

It was the perfect spot to land a small boat clandestinely. Once again Paul wondered if perhaps Katsu’s family weren’t involved in the ‘export and import’ business that was so often a fact of life in these sorts of areas. Although he had no proof that any kind of smuggling was going on, he had enough experience to know the area was perfect for it, and that historically at least, it was a common way to supplement income when the fishing was poor.

Paul frowned, there was something moving out at sea. It was very hard to make out details. Quite apart from the slight sea mist drawing a veil across the scene, it was almost impossible to see where grey sea ended and grey sky started, and without the horizon to serve as a guide, estimating distances was difficult at best.

Still, something was moving, a low grey shape, almost indistinct against the flat grey water. Paul squinted, wishing he’d brought binoculars. It almost looked like a large rogue wave…

Paul blinked, opening his mouth to say something… and stopped.

As it entered the bay Paul realised what he was looking at was a wave… sort of. Something was moving below the surface of the ocean, something large enough and swift enough, it was creating a bow wave, making the surface hump up above it, rolling over it and falling back into the trough of its wake.

Paul backed up a half step as the wake headed inexorably towards the shore, shoving aside the water. The sea foamed, as if breaking over rocks, as two parallel rows of flat grey plates broke the surface, cutting through the water like shark fins.

Then, still some few dozen meters offshore, the wave vanished. The water flattened out, as whatever it was below the surface stopped. For a moment nothing happened, and then the surface humped up again, as a vast steel coloured shape rose form the depths.

Paul’s eyes widened as, water streaming off it, a huge creature stood up.

“K...K...Kaiju!!”

Paul hadn’t realised that Inari had come up behind him, until she spoke.

“There’s no such thing as kaiju, Paul.”

“The hell you say! Then what’s that?!”

Paul pointed at the creature, standing waist deep in the ocean, and still towering forty feet above the sea. It had a hide like steel, with a matt grey, almost metallic sheen. In basic shape it was human… Paul looked again, she was human… if the subtle swelling in the armour plates around the chest area was any guide. Although she did have a tail, and long black hair that was plastered to her back between the twin rows of plates jutting out from either side of the spine. Long hair that framed a human-like face..

Paul blinked… as his brain caught up with his eyes.

“Holy Crap! Th.. that’s Katsu?!”

Tatsuo nodded slowly.

Fifteen minutes later, more or less, Katsu lay stretched out mostly across the sand, her van sized head resting on her truck length arms near the base of the cliff on one side. Despite which, her tail still had surf lapping around it, as she was longer than the bay was wide. Tatsuo had sat on her forearm, leaning against Katsu’s cheek, as he explained what had transpired since they parted.

They’d been pursued by a pair of hunters, who had proven to be very persistent. Despite giving them the slip at the train station, they’d caught up with Katsu and Tatsuo at the port. Katsu had ‘borrowed’ a small yacht from a family friend, leaving a note for him. They’d hoped to give them the slip out at sea. The yacht was small enough to evade radar if one turned off the transponder.

A small part of Paul’s mind wondered about that again. But most of his attention was occupied by Tatsuo’s tale.

They had thought they’d lost the hunters again, but the pair, one woman and one man, turned up several hours past dawn in a power boat a long way back behind them but gaining ground.

Katsu had played cat and mouse with them all of the following day, evading them by hiding among the islands and staying ahead despite the power boat’s greater speed. The hunters had to put into port to refuel near to sunset, and Katsu had sailed though the night, going dark in case they came back out looking for them.

It was midday on the same day that Inari, Paul and Nonemu had emerged through the Torii gate that the hunters finally caught up with them. Katsu, exhausted, had tied off the previous night to a buoy some 180 miles south-west of the island of Kyushu.

The hunters had appeared, in a much larger vessel. Evidently they’d decided that capture was no longer an option. The .50 cal deck gun had riddled Katsu’s small yacht with holes, until it hit the fuel tank for the emergency engine. The fire it sparked quickly spread, and Katsu had ordered them to abandon ship.

Which uncovered a slight problem.

Apparently, Oni don’t swim, or even float. Tatsuo’s denser bone structure meant he wasn’t buoyant. After a brief argument Katsu had given her life jacket to Tatsuo, so he’d at least stay afloat, and then tripped him pushing Tatsuo over the side away from the field of fire as the hunters deck gun swept the yacht. Tatsuo’s last sight of Katsu had been her falling backwards, over the rail on the other side of the yacht from him, as blood sprayed from her shoulder.

As Tatsuo paused, taking a sip from the thermos of tea Kiko had brought with them, Paul studied him. He seemed to be unperturbed, but Paul made a mental note to talk to him later… possibly after he’d had a can or two of beer and loosened up. Paul knew a thing or two about the effects of trauma, and he knew the signs of someone on the verge of developing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Nipping that in the bud, so to speak, would save a lot of anguish later.

As Tatsuo told it, Katsu, no matter how good a swimmer, wouldn’t have survived long without a life jacket, even if she hadn’t been hit. Tatsuo had tried swimming in the cold, rough, water to find her. But the hunters caught up with him first, hauling Tatsuo aboard their vessel. He’d fought, but the freezing seas and exhaustion had sapped his strength and he’d been quickly overpowered.

The hunters had spent most of the afternoon searching for Katsu… while Tatsuo was trussed up below-decks. It had been sometime after dark when things evidently went pear-shaped for the hunters.

Tatsuo didn’t know what happened, but there’d been a series of screams, and then silence. The boat had suddenly stopped rocking, and then with a ripping splintering sound, Katsu had ripped off the hatch and peered down at Tatsuo. She’d literally picked the hunters boat up, and opened it up like a tin can.

The young Oni had looked sheepish as he admitted to being terrified at first, not recognising her after her transformation. Katsu had chuckled… a vast, rumbling, tectonic sound.

Paul felt there was a lot that Tatsuo had missed out, but none of that was relevant to the main problem at present, as Tatsuo asked Inari.

“Inari-sama… can you turn Katsu back? She’s tried herself but nothing happens.”

Inari and Kiko exchanged a look, and then Inari sighed.

“It’s not a question of turning her back. She’s undergone a transformation, and this is the result. It cannot be undone.”

Tatsuo nodded, resignedly.

“I… feared as much. We spent days on one of the smaller islands in hiding. Katsu can’t talk like this, but she can write. She told me she thought she died. Drowned after passing out from blood loss. She remembers sinking down into the depths. But, Kami can’t die, so she surfaced again, like this.”

Paul’s lips twisted into a wry smile.

“Let me guess… you were thinking about attacking the hunters, and thought of Godzilla, right?”

Katsu ducked her head, smiling sheepishly, then nodded.

Paul frowned.

“Ok, I can see what shaped her transformation, but where would she get the power from, Inari? Something like this would take a huge amount of mana, right?”

“You’re right Paul, but…”

Inari paused, making a circle of her thumb and forefinger and looking at Katsu through it, frowning.

“That is strange. There is another spirit there.”

“She’s pregnant?”

“No, it’s… it’s not a part of her, but linked. Like a bound spirit. That’s the source of her power.”

Paul studied Katsu, eyebrow raised. Katsu ducked her massive head again, looking evasive now.

“You know what it is, don’t you?!”

Katsu nodded and carefully, moving slowly, giving people time to get out of her way, she wrote in the sand using one tip of a talon to mark neat characters in the wet sand.

‘Battleship Yamato’

Paul studied the foot high letters for a moment, then sighed.

“Should’ve realised when I heard the position. That’s the wreck site isn’t it? But why there?”

Katsu nodded, then erasing the letters with the palm of her hand, wrote again.

‘Grandfather’s grave.’

Paul frowned.

“Ok, he served aboard, but why go there unless… oh! I get it! It was supposed to be a rendezvous site! Somewhere you could tell your father to meet you, that no-one else would know. Right?”

Katsu nodded again, smiling.

Paul frowned…

“Ok, but… Oh! Hey, Inari, places can have spirits, right? What about objects, like battleships?”

Inari shook her head.

“It shouldn’t have. It’s ordinary steel for a start, and cold iron and magic do not mix, apart from the one exception. But besides that, it takes time for enough mana to build up, centuries at least, before there’s enough to create a spirit.”

Paul nodded slowly, he’d suspected that was the case. Still… he frowned. Evidently they were missing something vital.

“Ok, leaving that aside...Inari, one question. I’m guessing the additional mass Katsu has gained is part of the reason it takes a lot of mana to do this? But if we’re shrinking her form down to human proportions, wouldn’t that mean it’s a net gain in energy, and doesn't require power? Since it would be converting the extra mass back into energy..”

Inari shook her head.

“No… the transformation, if we could do it, would still need mana to power it, and yes, mass from somewhere was added to her. That mass would have to go back to where it came from. Energy cannot be created or destroyed, but it can be borrowed or transformed.”

“Huh.. so...maybe the wreck is short by a few hundred tons then, and somehow that mass would have to be transformed back into energy, zapped back to where it came from, and then transformed back into the battleship?”

“If that’s where it came from then yes, but it can’t have. A shipwreck couldn’t serve as a source of mana.”

“What, not even with all those lives lost aboard, all the emotional energy put into what was Imperial Japan’s great hope? Surely that’s a source of mana?”

“Well… yes… but how would it absorb and store that?”

Katsu reached up, and carefully pulled something out from among her hair. Between her yard long, talon tipped fingers it looked like a hair pin, but as she laid it out on the sand Paul could see it was a sword, specifically a katana. Its saya or scabbard still solid despite the marine life encrusting it, although the sharkskin of the hilt was blackened with decay and rotten strings of the Ito or silk cord dangled from it. However, the golden Imperial chrysanthemum symbol of the tsuba or hand guard, was still bright as Paul rubbed a thumb over it.

Paul blinked at it for moment, then covered his face with his palm.

“Of course! I’m an idiot. The sword, not the ship!”

Inari looked a question at him, as Paul carefully wiped the sword clean on a corner of his coat. Seeing her expression, he shrugged.

“This is the Yamato sword… by repute it used to belong to the original general Yamato. If I recall the story correctly, it and the other half of the billet of steel it was forged from centuries ago, was presented by the Yamato clan to the ship builders when they were laying the keel for the battleship. The legend goes that the unused steel billet was supposed to be for another sword, a twin, for the emperor, but the general or the swordsmith died before it could be made. Anyway, the unused billet was built into the keel of the battleship, symbolically making the ship the twin to the sword. However, the point is that although I couldn’t swear to it without a comparison test, I would bet this sword was made of iron from your mine, Inari.”

“Ah! Which would make it a mana battery, yes?”

“Exactly so. I think the sword used to hang on the bridge. I’m sure I’ve seen a photo of it like that, but if there’s any kind of magical connection between it, and the unused billet that was supposedly incorporated into the ship’s keel, then that could also serve as a link between the ship and the sword. So, the ship’s steel hull would act as a huge mana collector, channeling it into the sword.”

“And, as you say, all that emotion, all those lives and all those deaths... that would explain where the power to transform Katsu came from.”

Paul nodded, then turned to look thoughtfully out to sea.

“Something forged a link between the sword and Katsu, genetics maybe, or a subconscious identification with the ship by a certain young goddess, who knows?! But the ship, the sword and Katsu are all joined and the power for her transformation came from the ship.”

Paul stopped talking, thinking for moment as he stared out at the gently undulating, slate grey ocean, then he continued.

“So what if we reversed the polarity of the mana flow? If you and Kiko work together, to push energy into Katsu, so it flows back down the link. Maybe you can transform some of the extra mass and send that with it, and reshape Katsu into her old human form? Not so much transforming her back, but re-transforming her to her old self?”

Kiko, who had remained silent up until then, spoke up.

“There are stories of samurai who forged mystical bonds with their swords, being able to transform themselves to a certain degree. Growing taller, stronger as they drew upon the power of the sword. They described it as reforging themselves each time. This is like that. So, we would not be undoing a transformation, but re-doing it. I think it could work Inari… and we can’t leave her like this.”

Inari nodded slowly.

“Perhaps… but we are in uncharted waters here. I will risk it if you both agree though. Kiko, Katsu?”

Kiko nodded without hesitation, Katsu fractionally behind her, and with an uncertain expression writ large upon her face.

Paul glanced at Tatsuo, and shrugged.

“I think that’s our cue for us mere mortals to retreat to a safe distance, and get out of the way of the Goddesses while they work.”

Tatsuo looked doubtful.

“Perhaps… perhaps I should stay and support Katsu?”

Katsu shook her massive head, causing her tail to swing in sympathy, churning the waters of the bay. Inari added her voice.

“No Tatsuo, although the thought does you credit. But this is transformative magic, you would not want to get caught up in it by accident, and the less living things around Katsu, the less we have to shield against accidentally changing.”

Tatsuo nodded, reluctantly, and allowed himself to led by Paul to a safe distance away, although not without glancing over his shoulder at Katsu, in an emotionally charged look. Katsu, for all her size, looked scared and vulnerable, but none-the-less determined. Tatsuo tried to project reassurance at her and a confidence he didn’t really feel.

Some moments later, Katsu sat hunched up on the sandy beach, trying to take up as little space as possible. Her legs were drawn up with her arms wrapped around them, and her chin resting on her knees. Her tail was wrapped around her hips and ankles. Paul could almost see the imaginary egg shell around her as he sat on a nearby rock with Tatsuo perched nervously beside him.

Kiko paced around Katsu’s vast bulk, drawing a basketball-court sized circle in the sand around her, as Inari followed behind Kiko, filling in spaces with inches high characters drawn in the damp sand. The two Goddess, one new, one very old but ever young, hurried to complete the containment circle so they could begin the spell at dawn.

Paul thought the timing probably wouldn’t matter a great deal, as Inari had explained, but it certainly couldn’t hurt to add an extra little ‘kick’ to the transformation spell they were about to work. If all went well, Katsu would end up looking like herself, rather than a Kaiju sized hybrid between herself and Godzilla… which Paul supposed, would make her a kaijin technically.

Tatsuo started to stand up, saying as he did.

“Perhaps I should..”

Paul placed a hand on his forearm, restraining him.

“Don’t. You couldn’t help, and you’d be in the way. Your time comes afterwards, that’s when she’ll need you Tatsuo.”

“After?”

“Mm. You’re an Oni, you and your clan know how to deal with trauma. Katsu is human, from a sheltered and relatively privileged background. She won’t know how to deal with the residual feelings she’ll have after this, the mental scarring and lingering terror are foreign to her. If I read her personality right, she’ll try to bottle it up, deny what she feels, until she breaks down from the internal stress. It’ll be your job to prevent that, to encourage her to express what she’s feeling, safely, to you.”

“Ah. Um, Paul-sensei, any suggestions on the best way to do this? I...I don’t know her that well and… well, as you say, I am an Oni, not human. What works for us might not for her.”

Paul hid a small smile, as he was sure Tatsuo was angling for advice, without letting on he had no idea himself.

“Oh… it’s much the same I’d guess. You show her, by doing it yourself. Show, not tell, usually works. You talk to her about how you felt then and how you feel now, allowing her to express her feelings by sharing them with you. You share coping mechanisms, encourage her to explore different methods until she finds ones that work for her, by revisiting and exploring them yourself. You could even be seen to learn new ones if she encounters anything that might help you. I can download some literature for her and you when we get back to the temple; it’ll be human based obviously, but you can go over it with her and talk about ways it’s different for Oni, and maybe you’ll even find something new.”

Tatsuo nodded slowly, trying to look as though he knew what Paul was talking about. Paul let the young man have his pride and pretended to be fooled as he continued.

“Of course, you’ll have to show her it’s ok to be open about how she feels. Emotional wounds are pretty much like physical ones, it’s best to let them drain so you don’t end up with something festering away below the surface. You two have shared a singular experience, but one that has commonalities with others, so you could show it’s ok to reach out to other people, by doing so yourself. Kind of like how we’re talking now.”

“Ah.. I see. As I thought… umm… Paul-sensei...”

“Yes, you can always talk to me too, Tatsuo. Any time. Feel free to mention that to anyone you think might need to hear a bit of a ‘Survivors guide to Trauma’ sometime.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome… and if you pick up anything new, pass it along to your clan. Knowledge shared is knowledge increased after all. Might even help your status as clan leader.”

“You think so?”

“Hm, yeah. Who is stronger, the one who hides his fears even from himself, or the one who allows others to see he was afraid, and over-came that fear?”

“Ah… I see. Yes. That is true.”

Paul glanced at the horizon and then his watch.

“Well, looks like they’re on track to get started for daybreak, the sun will be over the horizon in a few minutes.”

Tatsuo nodded, and stood up, waving at Katsu and shouting.

“Hoi! Katsu! Good luck. You owe me an ice-cream after this!”

Katsu waved back carefully, a smile on her face.

Tatsuo sat back down, and then seeing the unspoken question on Paul’s face, grinned and explained.

“Oni get sea-sick… I didn’t know that before. Katsu said if we survived, we’d get ice-creams and she’d pay as her apology.”

“Ah. I see. That, by the way, was exactly the right thing to say to her.”

Tatsuo nodded, as if he’d known that all along.

Inari and Kiko were too far away to hear what they were saying, although there was clearly some chanting going on; the slight sea breeze that had picked up as daybreak approached swept their words away. As the horizon the bounded the ocean lightened, Katsu began to glow with an eerie aquamarine light, like sunlight seen though many feet of very clear water. Golden threads of magic bloomed from where Inari and Kiko stood on opposite sides of the circle containing her, at the same time as ghostly blue/green balls of fox-fire sprang up at the compass points.

The light from within Katsu increased in intensity, and she threw back her head and roared… Paul grabbed Tatsuo, kicked his legs out from under him forcing him to sit down, and held him in place by the shoulders.

The roar, which started at an ear splitting decibel level and gut trembling low frequency, dwindled, diminishing in volume as the pitch increased from Godzilla-like low frequencies to something like a human-scream as the encompassing globe of light shrank.

Objectively, only the time between one breath and the next passed; subjectively it seemed to go on for hours. But eventually, the bubble of light decreased to only a few yards across, and then went out with a sudden, silent, ‘pop’ that was more felt as a shiver in something more esoteric than mere common-place air.

Katsu lay curled in the fetal position in the centre of the containment circle, alive, naked and human. Around her was an expanse of what had been sand that glittered and sparkled in every colour of the rainbow, changed into something new. Tatsuo tried to stand again, but Paul managed to hang onto him… such was the level of the young Oni’s exhaustion.

Inari and Kiko conferred momentarily, walking around the circle of strange sand, and then as Katsu slowly sat up, Inari waved Paul and Tatsuo over as Kiko started to sweep away the circle drawn in the damp sand.

Tatsuo, of course, plunged across the sand for Katsu, sweeping her up into his arms, while Paul crossed to where Inari stood, holding the Yamato sword.

“It worked then?”

Inari nodded, abstractly, then held out the sword to Paul.

“It worked, but there were consequences.”

Paul glanced at the sword, and then did a double-take, looking again as he saw it was restored, as if newly presented to the General all those years ago.

“Huh.. oh well. No chance passing that off as the actual sword now, Katsu might as well hang onto it.”

Inari gave Paul a look of fond exasperation.

“Paul-san, think… the sword is the ships soul. She sleeps for now, but she can be said to be alive once more.”

“So? I don’t… Oh! Wait… you mean…?”

Paul turned to stare out to sea, at where the sun was rising above the small rocky island that sheltered the bay from prying eyes. There, some distance away, along the path made by the dawn, between the pair of small rocky islands guarding the mouth of the bay, was the shadow of a sleeping armoured steel giant. A vessel long lost, and now restored, at anchor off the coast having been brought back from her abyssal grave by the combined might of three Goddesses.

The Battleship Yamato had returned.