Copyright © 2003 Keith E. Kimball

E-Mail: [email protected]

A week had passed since Godzilla's disappearance.  Uriko Takei lowered her newspaper, smiling quietly at the headline.  She supposed the report was right; she couldn't recall the Japanese government christening a new holiday so quickly.  Or making any sort of decision with unanimous accord, either.

She watched her old friend, Azusa Aoki, across the breakfast table.  The other woman's longer hair was blowing in the gentle sea breeze coming off Hakata Bay.  Uriko took a deep breath to enjoy the salty sea spray as their ferry chugged across the vibrant blue waters glowing in the sunrise.

Uriko loved this little open-air diner built into the ship and this table near the rail in particular.  What a perfect way to start her day off, she reflected, as she leaned back in her chair.  She'd even splurged on some brand new short-shorts and a tight T-shirt to enjoy it all in.

Except Azusa was spoiling it.  There was a ghost of old pain in Azusa's beautiful almond eyes as she read the newspaper headline upside-down.  The demure beauty's floor-length skirt ruffled in the breeze as one hand clutched at her blouse.  The other was reaching for the paper to turn it around and let Azusa get all the sordid details.

It was such a shame, Uriko knew, Azusa used to be as happy and bubbly as her husband.  But last week's events had triggered a long-dormant guilt in her friend.  Uriko reached out to cover the paper with her hand.  As respectfully and as gently as she could, Uriko quietly added, "Azusa, sweetheart, get over it.  It was ten years ago."

That approach only made Azusa draw her face up in a tighter pinch.  Glaring a little, she charged back, "You weren't there, Uriko.  You don't know how it was."  But despite the anger flashing in her eyes, Azusa kept her voice just as quiet as Uriko's.  It wouldn't do, the dolphin handler knew well, to seem at all sympathetic to Godzilla in public even though the beast was finally dead.

"No, I wasn't," Uriko admitted softly, "But Kazuma was.  Tell me; what does your husband think of this?"

Azusa's stare faltered.  She studied the remaining food adorning her plate instead.

Sighing, Uriko leaned forward a little to catch one of Azusa's hands in her own.  She gave it a soft squeeze before saying, "He was just an animal, Azusa, that's all.  When he hatched, you just happened to be standing there and he bonded to you.  He thought you were his mother.  If Kazuma had been standing there instead, Godzilla would've thought he was his mother instead.  It didn't matter."

Her friend didn't dare look up.  Uriko didn't like doing this; but it had become necessary.  All these years and Azusa still clung to the thought that things might have changed or been different somehow…

"Azusa, look at me.  Please."  Receiving a gaze glimmering with tears, Uriko continued, "He left you for the big Godzilla pretty quick, didn't he?  Letting him go was the right thing to do.  You're a person; he was an animal.  What do you think would've happened in a few more years as he grew, huh?  Do you think he'd have treated you differently from anybody else?  Do you still believe he even remembered you existed?"

Trying desperately to hold herself together, Azusa reminded Uriko between little grunts of half-stifled sobs, "It wasn't just about him.  Never.  If I'd kept him, I could've changed him.  So many people would've…would've lived…Uriko…"  Finally forced to confront her fears and fantasies alike, Azusa began to crumble under the onslaught.  She pulled her hand free to clutch her napkin to her face as great racking sobs shook her body.

Uriko had pushed too hard; her own stomach dropped down into her ankles and left a nasty smudge of regret coloring her insides.  Swiftly, she moved to the chair next to Azusa's and wrapped her arms around her friend's shoulders comfortingly.  The other diners gave them some privacy by pretending to studiously ignore her public display.

Uriko cooed reassuringly, "Ssshh…ssshhh…it's okay.  You've got a family - real children, of yours and Kazuma's very own, now.  It's okay.  Even Godzilla's pain is over, right?  Everything's okay."

Azusa's eyes finally dried.  She quavered, "Yes…yes, you're right.  Uriko…I'm sorry I've always been so, so hung up on this…I should've put it past me long ago."

There was a bit of Uriko's usual teasing spark in her eyes as she replied, "I understand.  You know that.  If I didn't have a soft spot for animals, I wouldn't work with them every day."  She felt her friend had regained enough strength that Uriko could release her safely.  Still, she couldn't help but note, "Gee, Azusa, couldn't you have found a nice, friendly giant moth to be your buddy instead?  You know, something with more brains than a dinosaur?"

Azusa actually laughed at that and Uriko joined in.  Still smiling, Azusa replied, "Some Cosmos fairy I made, huh?  Lots of control over Godzilla, I had."  She dabbed at her eyes with the napkin.  Uriko began another joking comment when the ferry started rocking.

It was a big enough disturbance to make the womens' plates slide off their table and shatter onto the floor; yet not big enough to be a danger to the fat-bodied ship itself.  Azusa and Uriko clutched at the rail as their seats followed their table in skidding across the deck.  "Uriko!  Look!" her friend cried and pointed into the sea.

Hakata Bay was boiling and roiling a short distance away from the ferry.  The bubbles were lit from beneath by a flash of hauntingly familiar swirls of light.  Familiar to Uriko, at least.  But even as the light vanished, the churning of the waters increased.  And from the center of the disturbance began to rise a clump of ragged green blades with purple edges.

Uriko turned white.  Releasing the rail, she fell to her rump and began scrabbling backwards, unable to take her eyes off the very creature she thought she'd never have to see again.

For her part, Azusa was glued to the rail holding her upright.  She was staring with an incredulous mix of joy and horror as Godzilla, restored to his full-fledged glory, allowed his head to break the surface.

The King of the Monsters swept the area with a quick and narrow glare.  There was a flash of surprised relief in his eyes at his surroundings.  Godzilla threw his head back and roared; announcing his return to the world.  Uriko threw her hands over her ears at the noise but it didn't help.  She'd be lucky if her hearing wasn't permanently damaged at this range.

Azusa never left the rail nor did her happy smile leave her lips.  Uriko couldn't hear her, but had a sick feeling in her gut that Azusa was now yelling something like, "Baby…?  Baby, is that you?!" at the top of her lungs.

Suddenly Azusa was screaming so loud that Uriko could just catch what she was saying anyway.  Waving both her arms, Azusa risking being dumped off the still-shifting deck and into the cold waters.  "It's me!  Baby, it's me!  You were Baby Godzilla!  Please, don't you remember me?!"

Uriko found her own strength in that moment.  She stood and grasped at Azusa, trying to restrain her; but the athletic animal handler found herself brushed aside by Azusa's enthusiasm.

Godzilla heard her too.  With a sharp grunt, his eyes swept the ferry for the precise source of that call.  He found it even as Uriko finally got half a grip on the slightly older woman.

Godzilla snarled.

Uriko let go, fast.

Eyes sparkling, Godzilla allowed his body to sink into the bay and exchange his nearly prone swimming position he'd used to surface for a standing, water-treading one.  The ferry was turning its stern to him in a desperate bid to escape as fast as the old workhouse could chug along.  Which wasn't exactly a blistering speed.

But the King of the Monsters only had eyes for Azusa as she kept pace with him at the rail.  For a time beyond eternity, their gazes locked and each drank deep of the other's soul.  Searching, probing, seeing through each other's thoughts and emotions as if they were displayed for all to see and not just Godzilla and Azusa.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Godzilla's eyes floated closed.  Was that a tear tracing its way down his fearsome visage…or just a large blot of sea water returning to its brethren?

And then…the sea began to boil as Godzilla's back plates lit up.

Azusa sank to her knees, bending her head and shoulders in the ancient tradition of a samurai preparing for his final duty to his lord.  Uriko was screaming, Azusa was sure, and clutching at her, trying to pull her up and flee…flee for their lives…but to where?  Azusa could hear nothing over the crackling of Godzilla's energy buildup.

Nevertheless, she moaned softly the words she knew to be true to the very depths of her being.  "I failed you.  I failed my people and my family when I abandoned you.  Now they are all at risk from you.  I deserve this.  I only wish these others be spared."

The monster was not in a forgiving mood.  Godzilla's mouth opened slightly and the light contained within burned into the womens' vision.  A blast of steam, the last precursor to the atom beam, washed over them a split second later.  Although she could no longer truly see, Azusa's eyes focused on the center of that hellish light as she uttered her final peace to the world.

"May my death cleanse the blood from my hands and my duty finally be fulfilled."

Across Hakata Bay and even into Fukuoka City itself, the fireball of the ferry's demise was visible to all who dared watch it.  Yet even as the shattered keel dipped beneath the waves, Godzilla slowly sank alongside it.  He was content to return to Japan another day.

Far below the monster, the single Unown peered through the psychic shield keeping it safe from Hakata Bay.  Godzilla's silhouette turned above as the kaiju headed out toward the ocean proper.  The Unown could still feel Godzilla's potent mixture of rage and guilt; vengeance fulfilled and yet somehow coldly empty.

It turned its single-orbed gaze to the empty Master Ball resting against the shield beside it.  Everything, absolutely everything, had gone wrong in their attempts.  The Unown as a whole would not dare try anything similar ever again.

For an instant, a hole appeared in the shield.  The air contained within burst through and took the Master Ball with it.  The Unown calmly resealed its protective bubble as the ball, still having some air trapped within, began bobbing toward the surface.  A flick of psychic power and the ball's normal release catch flipped open.

With only a few rising bubbles to mark its passing, the Master Ball sank into the depths.

The Unown had no eye for it.  Already yet another rift to its own colorful dimension had appeared and the Pokèmon was moving into it.  Once on the other side, it would seal the divide separating Godzilla's world from home sweet home forever.

Godzilla, the Unown knew, had no home.  And now he never would.

THE END

Text, original characters, and events Copyright © 2003 Keith E. Kimball.  This is a fan work and not for profit.

All other characters, events, and trademarks Copyright © their respective holders including but not limited to Nintendo Company Ltd., Toho Eiga Inc., GameFreak, The Pokèmon Company, Shogakukan Production Inc., 4Kids Entertainment, Sega Enterprises Ltd., etc.