It was still the dead of night when Godzilla awoke in a cold sweat from a nightmare he forgot about as soon as he rose. When his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, he realised that he wasn't in his room. He looked at his surroundings, confused. The room was neat, but nothing clicked.
At first, he couldn't remember where he was or how he got there. He felt some shuffling at his side. Somehow, in his confusion, he hadn't noticed that someone was sleeping next to him. His eyes came to rest on the figure next to him. Whoever it was, their entire body was covered by the quilt they shared. It was then Godzilla realised he was naked. He had been human long enough to be used to wearing bedclothes. So the fact that he was bare made him uneasy. Godzilla couldn't fathom sleeping naked in any circumstance. And the fact that someone he probably didn't know was sleeping next to him added to his uneasiness. His attention returned to the figure. The only people he could say he slept with were his own children, Minya and Junior. But even then, they had their own futons. Whoever slept with him was too big to be either one. It was too short to be Rodan. And it was too thin to be Anguirus. Still, nothing seemed to click. There was only one way to find out then. He took the edge of the quilt in his still quite monstrous-looking hand and hesitated. He was curious, but at the same time, he felt as though he would regret finding out. Despite this, he'd pull the quilt down enough just to see the person's face. Godzilla caught his breath. He found himself looking at a woman with the beauty of a goddess; it was Mothra. At that moment, any uneasiness he felt had vanished. It took no further inspection for him to notice that her kimono was open. It was at that moment that memories from before came rushing back to him, and he could feel the flush forming on his face.
It was purely an accident, he thought. They promised not to be like the other kaiju-human hybrids in the household. Though, in the same breath, they would break that promise. Perhaps it couldn't be helped. After all, it was Mothra. He loved her as a colossal moth, and he loves her as a human. There was something about her he really liked, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. He loved so many things about her. It brought back a particular memory.
"And all of these are moths."
The human girl passed her finger on both pages of the book, drawing attention to every illustration. Minya and Junior looked at them accordingly.
"They look nothing like Miss Mothra," Minya observed.
The human girl answered, "That's because she's different."
Godzilla noticed that the human girl started to look uneasy when she turned to that page. And as though she knew he was reading her, she said suddenly, "I am afraid of moths, actually. Even looking at pictures of a moth will make me feel anxious."
"But Mothra does not scare you."
The human girl shook her head, "I don't know why. And she's a giant! But I guess she's a special case."
Godzilla leaned in to get a closer look at the illustrations. There were several kinds of moths shown, all of them vastly inferior to Mothra. Most were plain. And the ones that could be considered pretty didn't even come close. "This moth is one of the most impressive and beautiful, it even rivals butterflies in brilliance," the human girl explained, pointing at a Madagascan sunset moth.
"They don't know brilliance until they've seen Mothra!" Godzilla remarked, though not intending to be heard.
The stares from the three youngsters made Godzilla realise that he said that out loud. He left the house and only returned when he was sure they had forgotten.
It was a trivial thing but something about the human girl explaining how pretty that moth was elicited that reaction. Until then, no one had known about the feelings he harboured for Mothra. But he couldn't help it. They talked about that moth's splendour when Mothra was far superior. Maybe if they weren't too busy being cowards, they would've admired Mothra's beauty.
But she can no longer transcend moths in beauty. Mothra was a human now. Well, actually she was the most human out of all of them. The most inhuman things about her were her antennae and her wings, the latter which she could make appear or disappear at will now. Other than that, she could pass as a human if she pretended she was wearing an extravagant costume. And such a beautiful human too.
The quilt still in his hand, he took a good look at Mothra. Just as he compared her moths, he compared her to human women. The male human had another woman he called a mistress. Godzilla did get to meet this mistress multiple times. The male human went on about how beautiful the mistress was. But Godzilla felt that the mistress was plain, especially when being compared to Mothra. He didn't understand then, and he didn't understand now.
Godzilla asked the male human what he saw in the mistress apart from looks. The male human talked about how satisfactory she was in bed in great detail, something his wife failed to provide. This did nothing but confuse the kaiju-human hybrid. Seeing his confusion, the male human laughed.
"Of course, you wouldn't know the pleasures of a woman's body!" The male human took out a cigarette and lit it. After about one or two huffs, he spoke, "But once you start getting involved with them, you'll desire more."
Well, Godzilla knew the pleasure's of a woman's body now, and he couldn't fathom why the male human should want another woman. Yet again, he couldn't imagine being with anyone except Mothra. Perhaps he should compare her to other women.
During a festival of some sort, Godzilla saw this group of women with peculiar hairstyles, snow-white skin and blood-red lips. When he asked about them, the human girl told him that they were geisha. They were supposed to be beautiful. The human girl talked about the allure and beauty that they had. Observing them, Godzilla couldn't see what she meant. Like the moths, the geishas were inferior to Mothra.
Mothra shifted again until she lay on her left side, facing Godzilla. Her face was small and untouched by cosmetics, and eyelashes were long and even. Her lips, small and rosy, parted slightly. Mothra's skin was still flushed in places. He drew his hand by her cheek, suddenly having the urge to do so. That elicited a reaction from her. Her lips formed a slight smile, and she let out a small chuckle. Godzilla withdrew his hand from her face swiftly. He felt as though his heart had stopped for a moment.
"Mothra, are you awake?" He muttered.
But there was no response. Mothra remained sound asleep. Godzilla let out a sigh recovering from the brief moment of excitement. Her breathing seemed to get louder to him. And it was like music to him. Sometimes her voice could be heard. He loved hearing her voice. It was so soft and soothing to hear. So he liked to talk to her. Everything she says is significant to him.
Suddenly, Godzilla felt an urge. He wanted to see all of Mothra. He longed to remember the beauty of her body. With one swift pull, Mothra was uncovered. Apart from the bite mark he left on her neck, the flesh of her soft body was unmarked. Her breasts were beautiful, rounded and the perfect size. They weren't big like the mistress' breasts, but not small like the male human's wife. Mothra lay somewhere in between. He loved the contours of her body; her curves were perfect. Her legs were so graceful, slim and long. Admiring her in her entirety aroused him. But he controlled his desires this time. He did not want to disturb her, not when she slept so peacefully.
Drawing the quilt back over her, he lay down and closed his eyes. He should go back to sleep. Mothra moved once again. This time, she wrapped her arms around her partner. He asked once again "Are you awake?"
Like before, she didn't respond. She must be doing all of this subconsciously. Mothra was such a doting partner. Half the time, Godzilla felt he wasn't worthy of her affection. He was just a regular monster, and she was a living goddess. Their relationship had a rough start. After all, they were polar opposites. When they had to team up, Godzilla was always reluctant to do so. But Mothra had such an easy time putting their differences aside. When he finally learned to do the same, he began to like her. He began to like how different she was from him, as well. Godzilla was so petty and prone to anger, while Mothra was patient and didn't take small things personally. Even at his worst, Mothra could never bring herself to hate him like she once did. She should react scorn, but she chose not to. Perhaps that's what he loved the most.
Godzilla turned to face Mothra, kissed her on the forehead, and wrapped his arms around her. He then fell into a deep sleep himself.
At first, he couldn't remember where he was or how he got there. He felt some shuffling at his side. Somehow, in his confusion, he hadn't noticed that someone was sleeping next to him. His eyes came to rest on the figure next to him. Whoever it was, their entire body was covered by the quilt they shared. It was then Godzilla realised he was naked. He had been human long enough to be used to wearing bedclothes. So the fact that he was bare made him uneasy. Godzilla couldn't fathom sleeping naked in any circumstance. And the fact that someone he probably didn't know was sleeping next to him added to his uneasiness. His attention returned to the figure. The only people he could say he slept with were his own children, Minya and Junior. But even then, they had their own futons. Whoever slept with him was too big to be either one. It was too short to be Rodan. And it was too thin to be Anguirus. Still, nothing seemed to click. There was only one way to find out then. He took the edge of the quilt in his still quite monstrous-looking hand and hesitated. He was curious, but at the same time, he felt as though he would regret finding out. Despite this, he'd pull the quilt down enough just to see the person's face. Godzilla caught his breath. He found himself looking at a woman with the beauty of a goddess; it was Mothra. At that moment, any uneasiness he felt had vanished. It took no further inspection for him to notice that her kimono was open. It was at that moment that memories from before came rushing back to him, and he could feel the flush forming on his face.
It was purely an accident, he thought. They promised not to be like the other kaiju-human hybrids in the household. Though, in the same breath, they would break that promise. Perhaps it couldn't be helped. After all, it was Mothra. He loved her as a colossal moth, and he loves her as a human. There was something about her he really liked, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. He loved so many things about her. It brought back a particular memory.
"And all of these are moths."
The human girl passed her finger on both pages of the book, drawing attention to every illustration. Minya and Junior looked at them accordingly.
"They look nothing like Miss Mothra," Minya observed.
The human girl answered, "That's because she's different."
Godzilla noticed that the human girl started to look uneasy when she turned to that page. And as though she knew he was reading her, she said suddenly, "I am afraid of moths, actually. Even looking at pictures of a moth will make me feel anxious."
"But Mothra does not scare you."
The human girl shook her head, "I don't know why. And she's a giant! But I guess she's a special case."
Godzilla leaned in to get a closer look at the illustrations. There were several kinds of moths shown, all of them vastly inferior to Mothra. Most were plain. And the ones that could be considered pretty didn't even come close. "This moth is one of the most impressive and beautiful, it even rivals butterflies in brilliance," the human girl explained, pointing at a Madagascan sunset moth.
"They don't know brilliance until they've seen Mothra!" Godzilla remarked, though not intending to be heard.
The stares from the three youngsters made Godzilla realise that he said that out loud. He left the house and only returned when he was sure they had forgotten.
It was a trivial thing but something about the human girl explaining how pretty that moth was elicited that reaction. Until then, no one had known about the feelings he harboured for Mothra. But he couldn't help it. They talked about that moth's splendour when Mothra was far superior. Maybe if they weren't too busy being cowards, they would've admired Mothra's beauty.
But she can no longer transcend moths in beauty. Mothra was a human now. Well, actually she was the most human out of all of them. The most inhuman things about her were her antennae and her wings, the latter which she could make appear or disappear at will now. Other than that, she could pass as a human if she pretended she was wearing an extravagant costume. And such a beautiful human too.
The quilt still in his hand, he took a good look at Mothra. Just as he compared her moths, he compared her to human women. The male human had another woman he called a mistress. Godzilla did get to meet this mistress multiple times. The male human went on about how beautiful the mistress was. But Godzilla felt that the mistress was plain, especially when being compared to Mothra. He didn't understand then, and he didn't understand now.
Godzilla asked the male human what he saw in the mistress apart from looks. The male human talked about how satisfactory she was in bed in great detail, something his wife failed to provide. This did nothing but confuse the kaiju-human hybrid. Seeing his confusion, the male human laughed.
"Of course, you wouldn't know the pleasures of a woman's body!" The male human took out a cigarette and lit it. After about one or two huffs, he spoke, "But once you start getting involved with them, you'll desire more."
Well, Godzilla knew the pleasure's of a woman's body now, and he couldn't fathom why the male human should want another woman. Yet again, he couldn't imagine being with anyone except Mothra. Perhaps he should compare her to other women.
During a festival of some sort, Godzilla saw this group of women with peculiar hairstyles, snow-white skin and blood-red lips. When he asked about them, the human girl told him that they were geisha. They were supposed to be beautiful. The human girl talked about the allure and beauty that they had. Observing them, Godzilla couldn't see what she meant. Like the moths, the geishas were inferior to Mothra.
Mothra shifted again until she lay on her left side, facing Godzilla. Her face was small and untouched by cosmetics, and eyelashes were long and even. Her lips, small and rosy, parted slightly. Mothra's skin was still flushed in places. He drew his hand by her cheek, suddenly having the urge to do so. That elicited a reaction from her. Her lips formed a slight smile, and she let out a small chuckle. Godzilla withdrew his hand from her face swiftly. He felt as though his heart had stopped for a moment.
"Mothra, are you awake?" He muttered.
But there was no response. Mothra remained sound asleep. Godzilla let out a sigh recovering from the brief moment of excitement. Her breathing seemed to get louder to him. And it was like music to him. Sometimes her voice could be heard. He loved hearing her voice. It was so soft and soothing to hear. So he liked to talk to her. Everything she says is significant to him.
Suddenly, Godzilla felt an urge. He wanted to see all of Mothra. He longed to remember the beauty of her body. With one swift pull, Mothra was uncovered. Apart from the bite mark he left on her neck, the flesh of her soft body was unmarked. Her breasts were beautiful, rounded and the perfect size. They weren't big like the mistress' breasts, but not small like the male human's wife. Mothra lay somewhere in between. He loved the contours of her body; her curves were perfect. Her legs were so graceful, slim and long. Admiring her in her entirety aroused him. But he controlled his desires this time. He did not want to disturb her, not when she slept so peacefully.
Drawing the quilt back over her, he lay down and closed his eyes. He should go back to sleep. Mothra moved once again. This time, she wrapped her arms around her partner. He asked once again "Are you awake?"
Like before, she didn't respond. She must be doing all of this subconsciously. Mothra was such a doting partner. Half the time, Godzilla felt he wasn't worthy of her affection. He was just a regular monster, and she was a living goddess. Their relationship had a rough start. After all, they were polar opposites. When they had to team up, Godzilla was always reluctant to do so. But Mothra had such an easy time putting their differences aside. When he finally learned to do the same, he began to like her. He began to like how different she was from him, as well. Godzilla was so petty and prone to anger, while Mothra was patient and didn't take small things personally. Even at his worst, Mothra could never bring herself to hate him like she once did. She should react scorn, but she chose not to. Perhaps that's what he loved the most.
Godzilla turned to face Mothra, kissed her on the forehead, and wrapped his arms around her. He then fell into a deep sleep himself.