Marlow left the airplane with a sigh of relief. It was a long, exhausting thirteen-hour flight from Chicago to Tokyo.

Marlow glanced at his companion, San Lin. She was nice enough to accompany him to Japan. He remembered when he first saw her, he greeted her in Japanese. She looked startled and then smiled. She was Chinese.

How was he to know that?

She was good company for him. A fellow traveler from Skull Island. She also spoke fluent Japanese and spent several years in Japan. He appreciated a guide to his destination.

So much had changed. Even being home was confusing. His little son was now a young man. Fashion, news, everything was different. The United States was allies with Japan and was now in a "Cold War "with Russia. The price of bread and beer were more expensive. Even the songs were different. Chaotic, not at all like the wartime music he loved. Gone, all gone.

A new song called "Rocket Man" sung by Elton John aired over the airport intercom when the pair got their bags. He liked this song. Something about the lonely lyrics appealed to him.

The one constant unchanged factor in his life was his lovely wife. He was surprised she had not remarried. He was legally dead after being gone for so long. A woman as gifted and beautiful as his lady must have had suitors. She raised their son alone, and his admiration for her had no limits.

The old soldier learned that Conrad and Weaver had been detained and recruited by some secret society to hunt more monsters. San Lin had approached him as well, but he said no. He gave up enough years of his life. He was willing to talk to people, but he had no intentions of leaving his family again.

He had vowed to never leave his wife again. But for one last duty, a promise he made years ago.

He remembered a lot of the Japanese language from Gunpei. He taught Gunpei English and Gunpei taught him Japanese. They never gave up hope that one if not both would be rescued. They knew everything about each other. They had years to talk to each other.

Marlow followed San Lin out of the Airport. Now they had to take the Tokyo Subway.

Marlow walked over to the dog statue occupying a place of honor at the Tokyo subway station. The statue of an Akita named Hachiko. His master left by subway every day to the Tokyo University as a teacher. One day, the man died of a sudden brain hemorrhage. He never came home. The dog would go for years to the subway to wait for him. The creature's loyalty made him a beloved celebrity. When he finally died, the people of Tokyo created a statue of him to eternally stand guard.

Marlow touched the nose of the dog statue. He felt a kinship with the long dead canine. He knew what it was like to wait for years to see family again, never giving up all hope.

"Rest easy, big guy."

Marlow and San Lin hailed a taxi. He handed the cab driver a wrinkled and folded envelope, holding a carefully saved letter. He needed the return address of Gunpei Ikari.

Marlow had called ahead to notify Gunpei's family. In his eagerness to see his own family in Chicago he had rushed over. He did not prepare them as he should have. Marlow regretted his lack of common sense and was not going to repeat the same mistake. He knew the Japanese culture respected traditions and the proper way to do things and he was not going to arrive as an uncouth, foolish American.

Not to these people, not to this family.

Marlow and San Lin reached their destination. A lady appearing in her forties appeared at the door. The visitors bowed and she bowed back, welcoming them in. Removing their footwear, they followed her down a hallway and behind some black silk screen doors.

They had been invited to afternoon tea.

The rest of the family was there. An old lady kneeling in a silk robe. Two middle -aged men in their forties. Two ladies the same age. One of them had been the door greeter. Marlow guessed Gunpei's younger brothers and their wives. Their children were two sons and a daughter in their early twenties.

Marlow bowed and greeted the older lady-Gunpei's mother. She nodded back. Marlow and San Lin sat down as one of the men introduced the family members and then started to prepare tea. Scooping the hot water, stirring in the green tea, every movement precise and calm.

Marlow sat cross-legged. The family did not object out of respect for his tired old knees.

He knew the family was curious about him, but the tea ritual had to be respected. Marlow used that time to gather his thoughts. Tea was to be drunk slowly and quietly, not gulped down.

No spoons. Everyone drank directly from their own teacup.

The old woman spoke softly to Marlow. The old veteran frowned. He could not hear clearly enough.

San Lin whispered. "She wants to know how you can prove what you say."

Marlow nodded and passed to the old woman the envelope and letter. She gasped and held the letter tightly in her hands.

San Lin nodded. "She said she wrote that letter to her oldest son. She believes you now."

Marlow spoke up. "My Lady." The Ikari family started in surprise. They must have thought he could not speak Japanese. He could and had thought up what he would say.

"My lady, we were fighter pilots on enemy sides. We shot each other down on some island off Sumatra. We were picked up and kind of adopted by the local tribes. There I stayed all these years until I was rescued by a research ship looking to find oil or study volcanoes. I know how strange it sounds but it is the truth."

That's not even including Kong and the Skullcrawlers.

"I wish with all my heart and soul that I could give you news that your son is alive. But Gunpei died several years ago. We became close, as close as brothers. Gunpei was a good friend, a loyal comrade and a brave warrior. Sometimes we had to fight to survive and he fought well. He brought honor to his name. He died by the sword defending some villagers against predators. I have used the sword myself for that very same reason. It has saved my life several times. "

Marlow reached behind him and laid the wrapped-up sword before him. They had seen the sword and were curious. A sword is very distinctive and hard to miss. But it was wrapped up and they must have thought it was his own sword. He had thought of getting it cleaned but did not know of anyone good enough. He maintained it as best he could. Marlow decided to present it as it was. Let the family see the marks of battle on the sword, not polished up like a display item.

The old veteran unwrapped the final cloth and the Ikari family murmured in surprise. The brown leather scabbard shone with its gold crests, still maintaining a tattered dignity.

Had Gunpei survived, he would have given Marlow's son his rosary. The rosary belonged to Marlow's mother and greatly prized. Marlow hung in his cockpit of his plane every time he rose to battle.

Marlow carefully unsheathed the sword. "It was Gunpei's greatest wish that the sword come home to his family."

The elderly lady still grasped the letter tightly in her hands. She leaned over to inspect the sword and she nodded.

One of the men carefully picked up the sword with a white cloth. His son picked up the scabbard. Both left.

The matriarch sat up and silently watched them go. She turned back to her guest. Marlow saw the tears in her eyes.

She whispered, "Osore Irimasu."