(A/N--Credit where credit is due: I owe the concept of the third segment of this chapter to an offhand comment Lucinda the Maid made about the previous story. And I owe an astounding advance to Ryuhei Kitamura… concise monster battles!)

Sakaki conscientiously took her shoes off before entering Chiyo-chan's house and thanked the penguin that turned up to take her jacket. There was nobody else around, but she knew that she was expected. And sure enough, as she entered the main room, which was even more crazy-huge than she remembered it from her High School days, an oddly familiar egg-shaped being addressed her from the top of the staircase. "Yo, Ms. Sakaki. Glad you made it."

"Hello." Sakaki bowed, not questioning the need to be respectful to this freakish creature. "Have we met?"

"You don't remember me? Oh, you cut me to the quick!" It slid down the banister, hopping off where the stairs doubled back to drift the remaining two meters and touch down on the plush carpet before her. "I'm Chiyo's father!"

"Chiyo's father is an orange… an orange…?"

"Cat," he supplied testily.

"An orange cat?"

"Well, that stings. I was going to congratulate you, too."

"Sorry."

The Chiyo-dad crossed his stringy, tentacle-like arms and his body took on a reddish tinge. "Hmph. I guess it's been a while. I just wanted to let you know that you're doing a great job protecting my daughter."

"I… I am?"

"I had my doubts, but you're pulling through very well."

"But I haven't been able to protect her from anything!"

"You're not supposed to keep bad things from happening to her, silly. Nobody can do that. Your job is to keep her together once they have."

For a ridiculous moment, Sakaki thought back to the comment Chiyo made before falling asleep. "She's going to fall apart?"

"No, stupid! I was speaking figuratively. Yeesh." He looked her in the eyes, which involved rotating his whole body and tilting backwards. "It's going to get harder on all of you, but I have every confidence that you're up to it."

She was starting to remember her dreams of the Chiyo-dad, and was amazed at how forward and to-the-point he was being. Most of the time, it had just seemed like he was messing with her. "Er, thanks. But what…?"

"There's someone I think you should meet, though."

Why did that innocuous suggestion give Sakaki chills?


At 3:30 AM, high winds rushed through the streets of Sendai, stirred by the colorful wings of the mightiest lepidopteron that ever lived. Everybody who saw her knew instantly that this wasn't the wanderer, that sinister and poorly-named Gigamoth, but none had ever seen anything like her.

Her body was covered by short white fur and her eyes glittered like huge faceted sapphires. Her wings were painted with bright splotches of color separated by narrow bands of black, arranged in wild, complex pattern that was at the same time perfectly orderly. Unlike the wings of the late Gathra, though, there was little threat of insanity from examining them.

There was no hint of her origin except for the tattered remains of a cocoon the size of an ocean liner found drifting off the shore of Hokkaido. By happenstance, the SDF gave her the codename Mothra and never discovered their lucky guess.

Mothra winged her way over the city, passing right by its guardian monster, who didn't attack her in spite of his controller's frantic orders. And so the authorities were reduced to simply watching her progress… but she didn't do anything remotely unpleasant, apart from issuing the occasional loud, piercing chirp. Rather than fiery destruction, all that followed her was a vague, flowery scent that nobody could place.

So she was free to soar on the winds of Earth for the first time in decades. If the occasion of her visit weren't so grim, Mothra might have even enjoyed her flight. Even for twenty-thousand-ton moth goddesses, though, it's hard to enjoy oneself when a painful evisceration by a member of your family threatened.


Sakaki found herself wearing a swimsuit and wide-brimmed sunhat, standing on a strange beach. The sand, warm and fine beneath her bare feet, was perfectly black, as were the thick, tumbling clouds that filled the sky. The sun was apparently setting, evidenced by the faint fingers of red light that emerged through the overcast over the water, painting it that same bloody hue. In fact, now that she looked around, Sakaki found that she couldn't see any colors in any direction except for black and red… and pink?

Chiyo—not the young woman Sakaki had so recently met, but little, ten-year-old Chiyo-chan—sat in the sand nearby, pink swimsuit and pale legs standing out sharply against the darkness. She was working on a sand-castle, and like everything Chiyo tried her hand at, it was turning out spectacularly. In fact, it had sort of a Castlevania look to it, like a cross between a stereotypical European castle and a Gothic cathedral. It was easy to imagine a two-centimeter tall Count Dracula waking up in there and going, "Bleaah! I vont to suck your bluud!"

"Oh, hey, Sakaki," Chiyo greeted casually, glancing up.

Her eyes, Sakaki noted without particular concern, were darker than normal. A deep, dark reddish-brown that fit the landscape about them perfectly. The taller girl (or woman—oddly, though Chiyo seemed to be her old self from high school, Sakaki's form was current) sat down alongside and watched her with interest. Chiyo was working her way down one of the square towers, adding windows with deft little flicks of her tiny fingernails.

"I notice that you're not full of questions. Cat got your tongue?"

"No," Sakaki replied. "You don't look like you want to be disturbed."

"Hmm… sometimes I think you're too accepting, Sakaki. What if you'd been brought here so that I could kill you? That might be nice to know."

"You wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't I? Do you even know who I am?"

There was something truly unsettling about being asked that by someone you'd known for years. In spite of herself, Sakaki shivered. "Who?"

"I am…" Chiyo stood and kicked the castle over in a spray of dark grit, ruining the work of who knows how long. "Chiyo Mihama's aramitama. You should really be more careful."

"You're…" Sakaki swallowed. "Evil Chiyo-chan?"

"Evil?" The girl pondered this. "Sometimes, I suppose. But you know, it's rough spirit, not evil spirit. Some people have this self-centered idea that just because a spirit is smiting them with blizzards and earthquakes that it's evil."

"I… see."

"I'm not going to hurt you, if you're worried about that. There are a few people I'd like to, but in all the years I've known you, I'm not sure you've done anything to make me even slightly angry, except for maybe a little condescension."

"Condescension?"

"I'm used to it anyway."

Sakaki wasn't ready to drop it, though. "I condescend to you?"

"Sometimes. Forget about it, everybody does. By the way, that's something the gentle spirit never would have admitted to you. Aren't you glad you met me?"

"I…"

"Probably not. Still and all, we had to sooner or later, and as you can see," she indicated ten-year-old self, "I don't get out much."

Sakaki was reeling. So that meant that there were times that Chiyo had been not-Chiyo and she hadn't even realized? No, worse: there were times when Chiyo had been somebody else… and still Chiyo. And the fact that she had an aramitama implied something else, too. "Does everybody have a…?"

"Of course not."

"Does that mean you're a…?"

"It could. Now, look, we don't have much time." The sunset continued its inevitable course and the world about them faded towards pitch-black. "I just wanted you to know that I existed. I didn't want you to think you had me totally figured out, not by a long shot."

Odd. She was using "I" to refer to both Chiyo the whole person and Chiyo's darker side interchangeably. It made sense, actually; if a person had two souls, would either of them be any less that person? Sakaki started to protest that she'd never thought she had Chiyo totally figured out, but then realized that maybe, in an unconscious sort of way, she had. What came out instead was, "You don't seem like a very rough spirit."

"Because I'm not killing people or bringing misfortune down on you? Yeah, you're right." Chiyo sat down and started tracing one of her dainty feet with a black twig. "I'm a pretty soy-based rough spirit, actually. I don't even enjoy hurting people, which you'd think is a prerequisite. But then again, at least I'm able to." Sakaki didn't respond. "Say, now that we've formally met, maybe you can watch for me!"

"H-huh?"

"Most people can't, but you know me well enough… you should be able to tell when I'm out. I'm less polite, crankier, more impulsive…" she suddenly grinned, showing off pronounced canines. "And I'm quite a bit more forward about getting what I want."

Sakaki's only response was to look a little distressed.

"Eh," Chiyo waved dismissively. "You won't remember most of this anyway. And you should probably get going; it wouldn't be good for you to be here when it gets totally dark."

"What about you?"

"Me? Why, I love the dark! Later days, Andrea."


Gigamoth faded into existence over Hong Kong and immediately set out. Unlike his other appearances, it was obvious that he had a specific mission in mind. And unlike the case of his benevolent counterpart, Hong Kong's resident monster, the repulsive Kumounga, had no reservations about attacking him.

The spider monster scaled the side of a skyscraper, spreading his massive weight over several buildings, and started to build a web in his target's path. Frustratingly, his handiwork was diced by astral blades almost as soon as he'd started. Gigamoth flew carelessly past him, ignoring the jet of webbing that played over one of his wings and coated it with ropy strands.

In a move he surely hadn't picked up from his little cousins on the ground, Kumounga hurled himself through the air and tried to land on Gigamoth's back, but by this point it should be fairly obvious how that worked out for him.

VOIP, VOIP, VOIP, VOIP!


"Ayumu, wake up."

Her eyes opened, and for just a moment she wondered why she was breathing so hard. Oh, yes, that damnable dream again… this time the acid spewing monster had taken the form of a towering, misshapen humanoid, walking (maybe schlepping was a better word to describe its pulpy stride) through the dream-city while its inhabitants writhed and suffered. Ayumu had stood in the middle of the street, knowing that it had finally come for her, and its lopsided, blood-shot eyes had finally fallen on her when Kaori's voice cut across the dream.

"Oh, hiya," she said, as casually as she could manage.

Kaori sat by her bed in a nightshirt that somehow managed to give her the same dignified air as the kimono had. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah."

"It sounded like quite a nightmare."

"Sorry, did I wake ya?"

"Don't worry about that," Kaori seemed to hesitate. "…you called out for Tomo."

Ayumu blinked. "Really?"

"Yes. She was a good friend to you, wasn't she?"

"The best."

"I bring this up because," Kaori paused. She liked to go into these things with more of a plan, but she'd already started the sentence. "Just then, there weren't any Astral forces working on you. It'd been my theory, what with the description of the monster, but… for whatever reason, you're torturing yourself with these dreams."

"Can we do this when I'm actually awake?" Ayumu smiled distantly. "'Least, awake as I ever get?"

Kaori nodded. "That would be best." Just as she stood to leave, though, her chi-senses tingled. The warning from beyond was made moot, however, by the subtle aroma of jasmine that suddenly wafted through the room.

"Aw, man!" Ayumu covered her face. "It's not one thing, it's another!"


Mothra and her counterpart finally met over the Gobi Desert as the first gentle strokes of dawn were showing on the horizon. The combined beating of their wings kicked up an impressive sandstorm, so their surreal showdown took place between two endless planes of cloud, one above and one below.

Gigamoth was normally more reserved and cautious, but he instantly knew what the other was about. He rose with a few strident beats and then swooped down towards his foe, a trio of glowing green blades streaking beneath his flight. However, with a sound that was a combination of arcing electricity and teeth on a blackboard, they were intercepted by an array of bright pink blades.

Mothra turned sharply in the air and rose after her foe, firing a twin crackling beams from her antenna that scourged across his back and set the clinging webbing alight. Gathra twisted and tried to slash her again as she passed beneath him, but again he was parried. Green beams leapt from his eyes after her, but she avoided them with the first lepidopterous barrel-roll in history.

Both parties started releasing scales from their wings, GM's flashing and glittering while Mothra's glowed softly, and so the beams were negated. There followed a ludicrous dogfight of two titanic moths darting about with agility and speed that shamed their tiny counterparts, their every meeting marked by a vicious flurry of blinding astral blades.

In spite of his cunning, ruthlessness and strength, Gigamoth was unused to being on the defensive and no match for the experience and wisdom of his ancient foe. Mothra nicked and gashed him with every exchange like a fencer, sapping his strength. His wings were soon tattered with pencil-straight cuts as transparent, blue-purple blood ran down his body in sheets.

A particularly violent pass scored Mothra across her nonexistent snout and both combatants backpedaled sharply away, facing off over the churning mayhem their fight had made of the desert. Gigamoth knew that it was now or never; he had one last chance to make sure that he took Mothra down with him.

Like huge insectile samurai, they shot past each other for one final stroke, each making a single cataclysmic cut. And as if both sensed the end of their battle, neither bothered to turn and continue the attack. They hovered back-to-back, waiting… waiting…

And then Gigamoth fell from the air, body already dissolving to blow free with the Gobi's sands. But where he had been, something still hovered… a faint, insubstantial form that was similar and yet could not have been any more different.

Gathra was finally free.


After an instant of unadulterated panic, Sakaki realized that she hadn't slept in because she had the day off. It took her another moment to realize why she was in the living room and what the soft weight resting alongside her was. As always, Maya woke at almost the same moment. His sardonic look might have said, You've got yourself in quite a fix, haven't you? but then, it was a bad habit of Sakaki's to attribute humanlike traits to the charming Yamamaya. Maya yawned and hopped down to see if food had magically appeared in his dish, but he could make do if it hadn't. After all, there were plenty of unsuspecting birds and rodents outside.

She considered leaving the couch to Chiyo and getting some breakfast, but the prodigy shifted against her with an adorable little sigh, and Sakaki realized that she was trapped. And so she settled back, content and comfortable, the kitty-and-puppy obsessed eight-year-old deep inside of her gleefully chanting, I have a Chiyo-chan!

"I'm disgusting, aren't I?" Chiyo murmured.

"What?" Sakaki started. "No, you're…!"

"I wasn't fishing, Ms. Sakaki. Please let me finish."

Stopped cold by the unfamiliar experience of being interrupted by Chiyo (or was it?), Sakaki complied.

"Everybody always wants to hold me and protect me," Chiyo continued. "I suppose it's mainly because I'm so… cute. Still, I resolved never to let myself get used to it, never to rely too much on my friends; it would be very inconsiderate of me, do you see?"

"Mm." Sakaki didn't know what to say. Was relying on your friends so inconsiderate? What were friends for?

"But instead I come whimpering in here and just… sprawl all over you. I'm sorry."

"I don't mind. Really."

"I do," Chiyo replied, without moving. "But after years of being handled with kid's gloves, I don't think I'm strong enough to handle it any other way. And look at me now… why do I have to bother you with this? Weak."

Something about the bitter, un-Chiyo tone in her voice made Sakaki try to recall her dream, but it was gone. She looked down to find the prodigy gazing up at her, and they ended up awkwardly staring at each other for about five seconds, noses only centimeters apart. The older girl was searching her friend's eyes for something, she didn't know what, but ended up deeply relieved not to have found whatever it was.

Chiyo smirked slightly. "What?"

"N-nothing. Sorry."

"Well, such is life." The prodigy stood and stretched… then blinked in pleasant surprise when her joints failed to object. She worked her arm in a circle, but nary a crack came. "How about that? I think this is the first morning in years I haven't felt lousy."

"It's not really morning," Sakaki felt constrained to remind her.

"Near enough! Hey, do you think I could meet Mr. Takeda soon?"

Sakaki wondered about her sudden turnaround, but there was really nothing to do but roll with it. Pushing her worry aside, Sakaki set about to plan her day with a suddenly sunny and chattering Chiyo.


Ayumu slept solidly until the middle of the afternoon, which wasn't really a surprise. Fortunately, the visitation that night had come to an end fairly quickly (or so Kaori thought) and it hadn't threatened her like before. Now she sat up on her bed, noting with mingled gratitude and annoyance that Kaori was still hanging around, reading one of her mighty tomes.

"Hey, shouldn't ya get some sleep?"

"Huh?" Kaori jumped, startled out of the book. "Nah, I wasn't up the whole time."

"Won't come back, ya know."

"Would you prefer to be left alone?"

Well, that made things easy. "Yeah."

Kaori closed her book, sketched a bow and left. Once she was well and truly gone, Ayumu smiled and held out an arm as if to let something land on it. Then, raising a pillow over her head like a mace, she called softly, "You can come out now."