This story was inspired in part by my brother's random wish, about ten years ago, to see Godzilla versus Mothra. I have no idea what inspired him, but whatever. I mentioned Mothra to a friend of mine and, in our fanaticism, we thought, 'hey, moths are attracted to shiny things. . . Edward's shiny. . . I wonder. . .' and hilarity abounded. The story gets Twilight-relevant in the next chapter. Also, credits to Hiroshima by John Hersey, and the really boring choir competition during which this was written with my wonderful co-author, Shelby!

Disclaimer: I claim no rights to Twilight, Hiroshima, or Godzilla versus Mothra.

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Mothra: the Early Years

The bombing of Hiroshima killed approximately 100,000 people, destroyed most of the city's infrastructure, and permanently changed the life of a small family of moths. Scientists wouldn't discover the true extent of the damage caused by the radiation for years, but one effect became apparent almost immediately: the genetic makeup of several moths was so altered that they grew to truly mythic proportions.

Mr. Tanaka, father of Toshio Tanaka, became severely depressed after the explosion, which killed his wife, caused him to grow to a size where he was unable to so much as enter his home, and started many fires, which his friends and family were irresistibly drawn towards, as was their nature, causing many premature deaths. Mr. Tanaka resorted to alcohol to drown his sorrows. Unfortunately, moths aren't usually of a sufficient stature to buy anything, so he lacked money to pay for his sake. He also had no discernable skills, and so could not find a job to earn money.

Eventually, the Yakuza, the Japanese mafia, came looking for him in Asano Park, where he attempted to find shelter, even though it is slightly difficult for a ten foot tall moth to camouflage himself against the tree bark. Of course, a 10-foot tall moth is pretty threatening, so the camouflage wasn't really necessary.

Mr. Tanaka didn't think that he owned anything that the Yakuza might find to be suitable for compensation (his possessions were virtually nonexistent, unless one counted the tiny clearing he called home, and a pile of empty bottles). However, while the Yakuza were busy threatening him with various forms of torture, his young son, Toshio, came home, instantly drawing the attention of the previously intent Yakuza.

Now, Toshio, a poor moth dealing with both near total destruction of his home and puberty at the same time, had recently gone through a growth spurt of his own. He was quite a bit larger than his father, about the size of a small family home. Now, the Yakuza are very knowledgeable in the ways of moths, as is necessary for their position, so they knew that Toshio, a teenage moth, would continue to grow.

"Mr. Tanaka," they proposed, "we have a proposition."

"Now, keep in mind that you are in a very delicate position. If you fail to cooperate with our demands, um, I mean our polite requests, it would be quite easy for us to permanently, how should I put this . . . disable your wings."

"Whuh? Oh . . . um, m'kay," mumbled Mr. Tanaka. He had recently been cut off from his supply of alcohol and was suffering withdrawal pains. By a nearby tree, one could see how he had attempted to ferment some leaves as a substitute for his usual fix. If his dazed expression was any indication, he had been rather successful.

"Mr. Tanaka, there is only one conceivable solution to your problems: you give us your son, and we will absolve your debts."

The leader sat up straight, his eyes making it clear that there wasn't really a choice. Either Mr. Tanaka gave up his son, or he died.

"This is really beneficial for all involved. You are debt free, your son lives a better life, and you may even get to live, if you're lucky."

"But . . ." Tanaka trailed off. "Toshio is my only son left. Everyone else died in the fire; he's all I have left!" he protested, finally grasping the situation.

The Yakuza let their hands drift menacingly down to their swords.

"Well," he quickly reconsidered, "I guess it could work out . . . I didn't really want to deal with him through puberty, anyway."

Thus began Toshio's life as the mafia's hit man of choice. To make him sound more threatening (and to make his name a convenient description of his species so as to avoid any confusion), Toshio's name was changed to Mothra.

His exploits are remembered to this day; the most well known is his face off with Godzilla, although the movie is horribly biased. Mothra is really just misunderstood. Also, he doesn't die in the end. He and Godzilla calm down and peaceably discuss their differences in group therapy and join together to rebuild Japan (they were instrumental in helping to lift heavy wreckage). To this day, they are great friends.

But that is another story. Today's tale takes place during Mothra's tenure as a mafia hit man. Specifically, when he is sent on a special mission to the rainy town of Forks, Washington.

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Please review? Pretty please? You'd make my day. Seriously.

I hope you enjoyed reading. The plot isn't intended to offend Edward/Jake/Bella/Mothra fans. I like all of them, so everything (including the who and why of hiring a hit-moth) is written jokingly.