Previous parts available on request. C&C always welcome.
======================================================================
Pastpresent
by Susan Doenime

Fog of Confusion, Part 1
==================================+

		You know, I find it somewhat amusing that I never 
	met anyone with a Jyusenkyou curse until we visited the 
	training ground itself. Considering the amount of 
	unfortunates that have shown up here, you'd think I would 
	have ran into it before....

		No matter. You probably think your life is strange, 
	boy, what with the curses and Chinese warlords and 
	demons and magical knick-knacks of every shape and 
	description. Well... it is. It's a family tradition. 

		With you, I think the weirdness threshold really 
	began to peak after you gained your curse. For me, I think, 
	it was when I was seventeen, around the summer of '62. 
	Or was it '63? I forget.

		The Chinese duo in the theatre was the first 
	warning sign, I suppose. Being a Kasigi, I ignored it.

		Fate, however, does not like being ignored. It 
	promptly began it's lifelong offensive against me.

		I used to crave the exciting and unusual. That is, 
	until it started appearing on my doorstep every single 
	day...

----------------------------------

	Ant Town thrived in the summer season. The township-
sized garbage dump/scrapyard/junkyard/residential area 
bustled with trucks carrying in refuse, river barges carrying in 
scrap and towing in hulks, and scavengers rooting through it 
all for valuables. One man's trash is another man's meager 
living.

	At first glance, the place looked like a bombed-out 
residential area. This was because it in fact _was_ a bombed-
out residential area. Hey, they needed to put the rubble of '45 
somewhere...

	Which had been all very good, and people suddenly got in 
the habit of dumping their junk in the place with all the rubble. 
The wreckage of '45 was quickly covered by the refuse of '51.

	And '45 left a lot of human refuse, too. No homes, no 
jobs, no income. Only winners get serviceman's pensions and GI 
Bills. Losers are asked to kindly go somewhere where we can't 
see you, please.

	These people quickly discovered that its a lot better for 
your pride to salvage girders, engines, and other materials 
than it is to sit on a sidewalk and beg. At least this way you 
were doing something productive, out from under the eyes of 
the more fortunate.

	They didn't have homes. Luckily for them, their workplace 
had everything from shattered buildings to twisted bombers to 
beached, broken ships. Not exactly a condo on the Ginza, but 
protection from the elements.

	They fixed up their chosen dwellings. They organized into 
salvage gangs. They took anything that could possibly be 
repaired, repaired it, and sold it at a profit.

	A very few of them were surprised to wake up one day 
and discover that they were, in fact, moderately wealthy.

	Most of them were still poor, but content in the fact that 
they were working poor. Their children might get out.

	"Keep your damn end up, Kasigi!"

	Or, in some cases, get in.

	"I'm trying! Hold your end steady!"

	Biki Kiritsubo, mechanic, biker, and amateur thug, fixed 
her partner with a glare. "I am holding it steady! Or I would be, 
if you'd just keep your damn end up!"

	Kasigi Genma rolled his eyes, gritted his teeth, and 
hefted the huge piece of machinery a little higher. His arms 
protested with a twinge of pain. "What is this thing, anyway?"

	Kiri grunted, staggering forward in time with her 
partner. "It's a Mitsubishi Kinsei 41, 14-cylinder radial air-
cooled engine. We stuck em in bombers."

	"Like the one we took it out of?"

	Nodding, Kiri glanced over the bulk of the engine. "Turn 
left at the wrecked tugboat."

	Genma made a hard left, bashing his head against a 
protruding girder as he did. "Aggggh...."

	"Don't drop the engine, clumsy."

	He glared at her. "Next time YOU take this end, and I'LL 
take the back." He frowned. "Hey, Kiri?"

	The girl tightened her grip on the back end of the engine 
slightly, adjusting its weight. "Yeah?"

	"That bomber looked, uh... kinda lived in. With the 
curtains and sofa and all."

	Kiri smiled cheerily, sweat streaming down her face. "Oh, 
uh, mebbe someone used to live in it."

	"I'm just wondering if maybe they'll get upset over this 
big, huge engine being pried out of their house."

	"They probably weren't using it anyway. Watch..."

	*whap* "Ow!"

	"...out for that low pipe."

	"Damnitdamnitstupidfu..."

	"Language!" Kiri frowned disapprovingly. 

	"Kiri, I learned every piece of foul language I know from 
you."

	She shrugged. "It's the principle of the thing. Turn up that 
ramp up ahead."

	Genma craned his head around. "The one into that 
building?"

	"No, the one up into that cargo ship."

	He frowned. "Why?"

	"Because there's a hole in the lower hull that leads into a 
small alley that leads to the edge of Ant Town near my garage. 
And it doesn't get much traffic, which is a good thing."

	"Why's that?"

	"Trust me, it's a good thing."

	Genma sighed, ignored his protesting muscles, and 
carefully started up the ramp leading into a gaping hole in the 
beached cargo vessel. "Oh c'mon, Kiri, just admit it. We've just 
stolen this thing, haven't we."

	"Well, not technically, since everything in here is 
salvage..."

	"Yeah, maybe not legally, but by most reasonable 
definitions we just stole this thing, right?"

	"Kinda." Kiri had the grace to look sheepish. "It's not like 
it was from anyone nice or anything. Gosunkugi deserves to 
have his..."

	Genma nearly dropped the engine. "Gos...Gosunkugi Bono?" 

	Kiri smiled unconvincingly. "Yup. You know him?"

	"Yeah, he tried to take lessons from Saotome-sensei. The 
master kicked him out after he broke another student's arm. 
Jeez, Kiri, the guy's six, seven feet tall! He's not human! 
Couldn't you have picked someone... I dunno, scrawnier?"

	"Well, that's why I brought you along, Mister Hot-Stuff-
Martial-Artist." Kiri smirked, ducking as they staggered 
through the breach in the hull. "You can take him, right?"

	"Well, yeah, but..."

	"And he's never going to even know its missing until he 
tries to turn on his air conditioner. Or his radio. Or mebbe 
his..."

	"I get the picture."

	"Anyway, he's never going to find out who did it, so why 
worry? Watch your..."

	*WHAM* "OW!"

	"...head. Okay, down those stairs..."

	"Goddamnstupidsonova..."

	Kiri led him down several sets of stairs, corridors, and 
gangways. It was, Genma mused darkly, the kind of place Kiri 
would hang out. Lots of rusting metal and oil. And petty 
larceny.

	They exited the ship through a jagged hole in its bottom, 
hauling their extremely heavy burden down into what appeared 
to be an old drainage canal lined with bits of sheet metal and 
shattered concrete. It was carpeted with mud and mold, and 
smelled slightly of decay.

	"Don't stand still for too long, you might start to sink."

	Genma stared at her incredulously, and tried to quicken 
his pace. "Tell me you're joking."

	"Nope. Ground's pretty cruddy." She glanced at the soupy 
mud in mild distaste. "Some guy got stuck in the muck up to his 
ankles a year ago, and the wild dogs got him. Poor old 
Harunumo..."

	"Wild dogs?" Genma screeched. Kiri smiled weakly.

	"Don't worry, they usually don't come by here til after 
dark..."

	"USUALLY?"

	Kiri frowned slightly, seemingly thinking. "Well, not 
often, anyway."

	"Kiri, I really really don't like dogs..."

	She rolled her eyes. "Will you calm down?"

	"I don't like em at all, Kiri..."

	"Oh, just shut up and keep your end up."

	Genma swore under his breath, nearly slipping on a patch 
of mold as they stumbled drunkenly down the alley. "My end is 
up! You hold your end steady!"

	"It'd be steady if you'd hold your end up, moron!"

	"Stupid grease monkey!"

	"Dumb jock!"

	"Hehehehehehehe...."

	Genma pulled to a halt. "Kiri, tell me there isn't someone 
behind me laughing unpleasantly."

	Kiri peered over his shoulder and swore. "No can do. How 
many street trash can you beat up at one time?"

	He stared at her. "I'm going to get you for this, Kiri."

	She ignored him and, putting on a friendly face, waved 
over his shoulder. "Hi, Bono-kun."

	A monolithic grunt came from over Genma's back. "You 
gots my engine, Kiritsubo-san."

	Kiri aimed a winning smile past him. "Gosh, no, it's from 
the other side of the...."

	"You gots my engine."

	"Kiri, give the nice gorilla back his engine!" Genma hissed 
frantically.

	She ignored him, and switched the smile to a glare. 
"Okay, I'm warning you... I've got Kasigi Genma, expert martial 
artist, and I'm not afraid to turn him loose! He'll beat all ten of 
your goons to a bloody pulp!"

	"There are ten of them?!"

	"Shut up, Genma," Kiri hissed.

	"WAHAHAHAHAHAHA! It puny Kasigi man from dojo! I not 
like you!" A chorus of low snickers, much like rats would make 
were they capable of laughter, followed.

	"When I give the word," Genma whispered, "drop the 
engine and run."

	"What?" she hissed indignantly. "I thought you said you 
could take him!"

	He gave an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, see, I can beat the 
stuffing out of that monster, but not while facing backwards 
and carrying a bomber engine and fighting off ten other guys at 
the same time, all after having lugged a heavy hunk of metal 
several miles. Okay?"

	"WAHAHAHA! I twist you into pretzel, little man!"

	Kiri gave him a mournful glance. "You sure?"

	"Very sure, yes."

	"Aw, and I was going to put that thing in a auto frame... 
oh well."

	"On the count of run.... RUN!"

	The engine dropped to the mud, where it promptly began 
to sink. Genma jumped on it as he dashed after Kiri, driving it 
even further into the muck.

	"BONO RIP YOUR HEAD OFF!" The sound of very large feet 
echoed behind them as they dashed down the alley, dived into 
the ship's hull, and clambered up a series of ladders.

	"Where're we running?" Genma puffed, frantically trying 
to keep pace with his partner. Kiri smiled tightly as she ran. 

	"Upper cargo hold. Lots of debris and stuff to lose em in. 
Watch your..."

	*WHAM* "Augh!"

	"...head. Down here, hurry..."

	They ducked down a hatchway, emerging into a pitch-
black hold. Blocky shapes loomed to all sides, causing Genma to 
glance about apprehensively. He didn't like this one bit.

	Kiri just sped into the blackness, ducking expertly around 
the rotting crates that filled the hold. Genma nervously 
followed, making sure to keep her in sight. "I take it you've 
been down here before?"

	"Yeah, a couple times. Ship supposedly was hauling 
valuables from Okinawa back to Japan when it got torpedoed 
and ran aground. Everything's probably been salvaged years ago, 
but it's worth a look. Besides, the thing's huge. Gotta be 
something worth something in it."

	The sound of shouting rose behind them. "Crap," Kiri 
muttered, glancing around. "Okay, down here."

	Genma followed her into a jagged rip in the hold wall, 
leading into a tiny, pitch-black corridor strewn with rubble. 
"Jeez, Kiri, I can hardly see..."

	"Just follow me." She waded ahead, occasionally 
stumbling over a bit of piping that jutted out at ankle height; a 
thick mist filled the corridor, adding to the poor visibility. 
"They don't know this part of the ship." 

	"How do you know?"

	"Because _I_ don't know this part of the ship. I think it's 
the service crawlways."

	"Oh."

	Kiri stopped, glanced about, then continued onward. "Just 
tell me if you hear something moving."

	"Okay." He trudged on behind her for several minutes, then 
something occurred to him. "Kiri?"

	"Yeah?"

	"Exactly what is it that I'm supposed to be hearing 
moving?"

	"You don't want to know. Look out for..."

	*BAM* "Ow!"

	"...that pipe in the ceiling."

	Genma rubbed his head, now sporting an interesting 
collection of black-and-blue marks, and shot a nasty look at 
her. "Kiritsubo, what the hell am I supposed to be listening 
for?"

	Kiri half turned, giving him a worried grin through the 
darkness. "Remember how the wild dogs only hit the alley at 
night?"

	His heart sank. "Yeah?"

	"That's coz they sleep in here during the day."

	"Kiri, I REALLY REALLY HATE dogs..."

	"Oh, don't be such a baby... hello, what's this?"

	She knelt to examine the floor, picked something up, and 
stood. "Ha! Lookit this!"

	Genma leaned forward. In the gloom, he could barely make 
out what appeared to be a blue-grey pottery cylinder, the glaze 
sparkling slightly. "What is it?"

	"I don't know, but it might be worth something." Eying the 
cylinder with a speculative gaze, she slowly lowered herself 
to the floor. "We might as well wait here until they give up. No 
chance of them stumbling in here." She sighed, glum expression 
visible through the darkness and swirling water vapour. 
"Damnit, we were this close, Genma. You can't get aircraft 
turbines like that just anywhere."

	He slumped down across from her with a snort of disgust. 
"Kiri, haven't you ever heard the expression 'Crime Does Not 
Pay'?"

	"News to me. I make a pretty good living off aiding and 
abetting."

	"Yeah, and one day the cops are going to drop by, and not 
for an oil change."

	She snickered. "Not likely. I pay my protection money."

	He sighed. "Not every cop in Nerima is crooked, you know. 
It's going to catch up to you eventually."

	Shrugging uncomfortably, Kiri glanced down at the 
ceramic cylinder. "Yeah, well, I'll just tell em it was all Joe. 
Everyone else buys it."

	Genma knew he wasn't going to get Kiritsubo to turn over 
a new leaf; he had pretty much resigned himself to that. Still... 
he placed a fairly high value on honor and law, and associating 
with Kiri strained that. And he was honestly worried about her. 
She could certainly take care of herself, but her kind of 
lifestyle was at once dangerous and potentially able to land 
her in prison.

	After a decent amount of time, they stood, stretched, and 
carefully picked their way out of the tunnel and towards the 
upper decks.

	The sudden brightness as they left the ship made both of 
them wince. As soon as they reached the border of Ant Town, 
Kiri once more turned a curious glance on the object they had 
salvaged. "Huh. What the hell is this thing?"

	Examining it, Genma scratched his head. It looked almost 
like a long vase or cup... only it had no open end. The entire 
pottery cylinder had been painted a sea-blue, flecked with bits 
of grey that seemed to blend in, making it hard to pick them 
out but easy to be aware of. The whole effect was of a 
shimmering, fog-wreathed sky after a storm, a mixture of sea 
and air.

	"Whatever it is, it's pretty," he finally offered.

	Kiri nodded, transfixed by the play of colors on the 
glazed surface. "And pretty often means expensive. It looks 
almost like some sorta Shinto thing, you know, like they have 
in shrines?"

	"Don't ask me."

	She rubbed her chin with a grimy hand, thinking. "Huh. We 
need an expert. Would your master know about this sort of 
thing?"

	"Saotome-sensei?" Genma thought for a second, then 
shook his head. "He's not exactly an art expert."

	"Yeah, but isn't he wise and venerable and full of the 
wisdom of the ages and stuff?"

	Genma considered this. "Well, yes, but his wisdom of the 
ages is more the Martial Arts kind and not so much the Funky 
Blue Pottery kind."

	Kiri looked annoyed for a second, and then brightened. 
"Hey... hey, yeah!"

	Genma eyed her with mild foreboding. "Yeah?"

	"How about that archeologist pal of yours at the 
university?"

	He took a step backwards, frantically waving his hands. 
"Kuno? Oh no, Kiri, no way am I going anywhere near Kuno."

	She frowned. "He seemed like a nice guy to me... maybe a 
bit absent-minded..."

	Genma shuddered. "After that expedition he hired me and 
Soun for, if I never see him again it'll be way too soon."

	"You got paid pretty well, as I recall. Didn't have to spend 
so much time that summer boxing lemons at the grocery."

	"Yeah, the pay was good, but the expedition was a 
nightmare." He shook his head violently, shivering slightly. 
"The guy told us he just wanted an escort to some rat god 
statue in Sumatra, and we end up running through the jungle 
with hundreds of very hungry cannibals hot on our heels. And 
then there were the rats. I still have nightmares about the 
rats."

	Kiri blinked. "What's so bad about a few rats?"

	"These ones were the size of shetland ponies and were 
semi-intelligent." 

	"Oh."

	"Kuno's the original man who rushes in where angels fear 
to even read the travel brochure for." Genma crossed his arms 
defiantly. "Who else do we know?"

	"Aw, c'mon Genma, it's not like he's going to have any 
giant rat cannibals in his apartment, right? We're just gonna 
have him take a look at this thing, not go on safari with him."

	"Well..."

	Kiri smiled winsomely. "It could be worth a lot of money, 
you know, and I'll give a third of it to you."

	He gave her a sour glance. "How come you get the lion's 
share?"

	"Because I'm the one who found it." She smirked. "Now are 
we gonna go see Kuno or not?"

	Genma sighed, and gave in. "Fine, okay. But if it turns out 
to be the key to some lost temple filled with gold hidden deep 
in the wilds of some remote island, you and he are gonna hafta 
go get it yourself."

	She laughed. "Fair enough. C'mon, we'll go pick up my 
cycle and drive down to his place. I wanna find out if I'm rich 
or not."

* * * *

	Kuno Takashi's apartment was in one of the smaller 
complexes by the university. One of the reasons it was so 
small was because of the size of the apartments, which were 
quite spacious. And expensive.

	Luckily, Kuno could afford to live like a king and still 
have money to spare for expeditions to every corner of the 
globe. His family had been rich before the war, and was making 
a fortune in the aftermath of it.

	The aforementioned family were rather bemused by young 
Takashi's desire to study archeology... but decided that boys 
will be boys, and it didn't really matter what you studied in 
university as long as you graduated. They were equally 
bemused to find their son getting high marks from his 
professors and giving well-regarded talks before academic 
groups. It made him fairly respectable, they vaguely told 
themselves, and if he gets a professorship it'll look awfully 
impressive to his business contacts.

	Genma had first met him through an interview on the 
origins of certain forms to the Art. Kuno had been impressed 
enough to hire him and Soun for the Sumatra trip...

	He shuddered again, and warily approached the door. 
Behind him, Kiri rolled her eyes. "It's a student's apartment, 
moron, not the Lost Temple of Ghu. Knock already."

	With great reluctance, he did.

	The door opened a few seconds later, and an alligator-
squid demon stuck its head out. "HELLO?" it boomed, voice 
echoing unnaturally through the tiny hall.

	Kiri yelped. Genma jumped back, frantically moving into a 
defensive stance.

	"OH, GENMA!" the thing boomed happily. "ONE SECOND!"

	And it took its head off, revealing a bespectacled and 
quite human face underneath.

	"T-Takashi?" Genma asked weakly. Kuno nodded 
enthusiastically.

	"Ever seen one of these? Kadath Geth-Thool mask, 
amazing workmanship, note the jade inlays on the snout here..."

	With effort, Kiri managed to regain her ability to speak. 
"Ugly looking thing. Someone musta been smoking some real 
wild stuff when they carved that..."

	Kuno peered up myopitically from his inspection of the 
mask. "Oh, hello. Do I know you?"

	"She's a friend of..."

	"I'm a friend of Genma's." She poked the martial artist. 
"Go on, ask him."

	"Right, okay... anyway, Kuno, we found this weird ceramic 
thing and it looks kinda old, and we were wondering if you 
could tell us if it was worth anything or not."

	The student beamed. "Hmm, yes, certainly... oh, do please 
come in. Would you like, hmm, tea? I think I have tea 
somewhere..." He retreated back into the apartment, leaving the 
door ajar. Hesitantly, Genma and Kiri followed.

	The apartment was half museum, half junk shop, half 
sideshow. Mouldering books lay piled on squat end tables, and 
the walls were hidden behind the shelves and bookcases that 
Takashi seemed to use as wallpaper. Occasionally a picture, 
resplendid in gilded frame, would interrupt the pattern of 
shelving. Masks, statuettes, headdresses, spears, daggers, 
maps, pottery, atls, bones of various species, mosaics, armor, 
jewelry, jade noseplugs, dead and stuffed animals, and a host 
of less recognizable objects sat on shelves, hung from the 
rafters, and lurked on sofa cushions.

	"Wow," Kiri commented, impressed. "He's got almost as 
much of this crap as the Salvation Army store."

	"Yeah, but most of this is a lot more valuable than an old 
plush rabbit."

	"Huh." She stared in repulsed fascination at a bas-relief 
on one shelf. "Eww, what the hell is that supposed to be?"

	Genma glanced over, and quickly averted his gaze. "That's 
a Shoggoth. Don't look at it, please."

	"Why?"

	"It might look back." He shuddered slightly. "They're a lot 
more ugly in the flesh. Ichor. Whatever."

	Kiri gave him an incredulous glance. "Oh, c'mon, that's 
just something out of someone's imagination."

	"Yeah, well, you weren't in Sumatra with us. Took me five 
months before I could stand to eat seafood again..."

	Kuno emerged from the tiny kitchenette, bearing a 
steaming pot and three cups. "I found tea. I think. Leaves of, 
hmm, some sort, anyway. Would you like some?"

	Genma slowly shook his head. "Ah, that's okay. Kiri, why 
don't you..."

	The mechanic pulled the pottery cylinder out from it's 
place under her jacket. "We were wondering if you could tell us 
what this was, Takashi-san."

	Taking the shimmering grey-blue object, Takashi stared 
at it with interest. "Well, this is, hmm, interesting... yes... 
definitely Japanese, note the concentric molding pattern of the 
clay, probably Kwanto region, I'd guess late 18th century if it 
weren't for the, hmm, glaze... very attractive, unusual 
composition, could you hand me Izigana's _Kwanto Artisans_, 
please?"

	Genma blinked. "Where's that?"

	A vague wave. "Oh, it's on top of the, hmm, third bookcase 
to your right, second shelf from the top, grey spine."

	He trundled to where Kuno had indicated, and peered at 
the upper shelves. "The one next to _Unaussprechlichen 
Kulten_?"

	"No, that's the Dee translation of the _Liber Ivonis_. It's 
to your, hmm, right."

	Nodding, Genma removed the thick volume, blew the dust 
off it, and handed it to Kuno. "Here you go."

	The student flipped it open, barely looking at Genma. "You 
might want to, hmm, sit down, yes, pottery in the region of the 
river valley was comprised of five major schools, hmm, this 
may take a little while, just clear off one of the sofas..." He 
trailed off, engrossed in his reading.

	Kiri sidled over to Genma, looking slightly amused. "Is he 
always like this?"

	"He's a bit less distant when things are trying to kill 
him, but yes, except for that."

	Smirking, she moved a pile of papers from sofa to floor, 
and began to sit. "Seems like a nice guYOW!" She sprang from 
the sofa, clutching frantically at her bottom. "Ow, what the 
fu..."

	Grinning faintly, Genma fished a dagger out from between 
the sofa cushions where she had been sitting. Kuno glanced up, 
and smiled vaguely. "Ah, was wondering where the, hmm, 
P'ur'bu had gone to... just set it on the coffee table next to the 
Innsmouth tiara..."

	Kiri glared at the offending object, muttered something 
vaguely obscene, and gingerly sat back down.

	The next ten minutes consisted mostly of Kiri gazing 
around with bored curiosity, Genma forcibly refraining from 
gazing around with agitated nervousness, and Kuno 
occasionally citing something from the book for no particular 
reason.

	Finally, Kuno closed the book with a decisive thump, and 
smiled brightly at them. "Well, well. Most interesting. You 
seem to have found a Okinawan Kami Bottle."

	"What's that?" Genma asked, eying the cylinder with new 
respect.

	"How much is it worth?" Kiri chimed in.

	Kuno hefted the pottery bottle and gazed at it with an 
absent smile. "Well, they were made by Shinto priests to, hmm, 
hold in certain spirits for their devotions, sort of like a 
modern rabbit's foot or more accurately a Hopi fetish, not of 
course counting the Peos Valley Hopi... from the, hmm, glaze 
used, I would speculate that it was used for a sea kami of 
some sort, possibly one dealing in bad weather. Not very good 
craftsmanship, really, but the glaze is truly exquisite."

	"So how much is it worth?" Genma asked, perking up 
slightly. He had been prepared to hear that it was only a cheap 
souvenir, and now it sounded as if they had found a valuable 
Shinto relic.

	"Oh, it's priceless, really."

	Kiri grinned broadly. "We're rich!"

	Kuno tsked, and shook his head gently. "No, I mean it has 
absolutely no value. Since no-one saw you dig it up, and since 
the design is so crude and the glaze so fine, I can't think of a 
single dealer who would, hmm, accept it as genuine. And even 
if it was, it would probably only bring in a few hundred yen."

	Glumly, Genma nodded. It was no more than he had 
expected. "Thanks anyway, Kuno."

	The student beamed at him. "Oh, glad to be of help... by 
the way, I'm planning an expedition to a certain, hmm, peculiar 
area outside of Cairo, and I was wondering if you and your 
friend Soun would be interested in..."

	"No," Genma said hastily. Sumatra had been quite enough.

	"Are you sure? The pay would be most generous, I assure 
you."

	His monetary instincts were tempted. "Well... what kind 
of expedition?"

	"It seems that there was this, hmm, lost tribe of Minoan 
cultists who built a temple to Nyarlathotep..."

	"No thanks," Genma quickly replied. Kuno looked vaguely 
disappointed, then smiled. "Oh well. Can I offer you some tea? I 
think it's tea."

	"We gotta be going, Takashi-san," Kiri said, glumly 
picking up the cylinder. "Thanks for the help."

	"Oh, no trouble, no trouble at all, lovely glaze... yes... did 
you say you wanted tea? Or were you going?"

	Genma waved, grabbed Kiri by the jacket, and hauled her 
out of the apartment. They were halfway down the hall when 
something occurred to him. "Hey, Kiri?"

	"Yeah?" The girl had a sullen sort of look, dejectedly 
eying the shimmering blue bottle under her arm.

	"You didn't, ah, borrow anything, did you?"

	Kiri glared at him. "No, I most certainly did not. Jeez, 
like I'd steal from someone who just got done helping me..."

	"Just checking. Half of that junk gives me the creeps."

	"Yeah, well, you're just high-strung, I guess."

	Dejected, they trudged out of the apartment building.

	"Fog's come up, hasn't it?"

	"Yeah. Can you drive in this?"

	"No sweat."

* * * *

	The fog lessened somewhat as they drove, although 
fingers of it continued to snake around the cycle as it sped 
through Nerima. Finally, after Genma's nerves had been frayed 
to the breaking point by several tight turns, Kiri pulled up in 
front of Joe's Garage.

	"Here we are. Seeya, Genma."

	"One second, Kiri." He smiled at her. "I was promised a 
salvage percentage for helping you. Since I know you're not in a 
wonderful cash position, I'll just take that bottle."

	Kiri frowned. "Why do you want it?"

	He grinned smugly. "Nodoka likes that kind of thing. It'll 
make a nice present."

	She grinned back. "Too bad. I'm keeping it."

	"Oh? What about my salvage fee?"

	"No salvage, so no fee."

	Genma favored her with a dark stare. "I still spent 
several hours hauling a heavy piece of metal through wild dog-
infested territory. A stupid little pottery bottle isn't close to 
enough for that."

	Kiri smiled sweetly. "Good, coz you aren't getting it."

	"Oh yeah?" His hand sped out, snatching the cylinder from 
Kiri's unprepared hands. "I'll take that, thank you."

	The fist sailing towards his face took him by surprise, 
and another hand tugged away the bottle as he ducked. "Bets, 
Kasigi?"

	He casually kicked Kiritsubo in the back of one knee, 
snagging the bottle as she yelped and fell to her knees. "Sure, 
Biki-san."

	"Mine!" She fell forward, and bit him on the hand.

	"AUGH!" Genma's arms jerked up. Kiri's head snapped back. 
The bottle sailed into the air, spun lazily in midair, and then 
smashed into a million pieces all over the sidewalk.

	"Whoops," Kiri commented, and then a thick grey mist 
erupted from the shattered bottle, billowing around the two.

	Genma blinked, suddenly unable to see more than an inch 
in front of him. "Kiri?"

	"Yeah? What the hell is this?" Kiri's voice answered from 
next to him.

	"FREE! I'm free! Muahahahahahaha!"

	A cold feeling ran down Genma's back. "Kiri, was that 
you?"

	"Wasn't me...."

	The mists swirled away, revealing a tall, slender woman 
in a kimono of blue and yellow and grey. Pale white hair was 
swept back into a loose tail, and her eyes sparkled with the 
same blue-grey as the glaze on the bottle.

	The bottle, Genma absently noticed, was now a rather 
ordinary light blue in color.

	"Who are you?" he asked, somewhat stupidly.

	The woman favored them the a haughty, somehow 
satisfied gaze. "I am Misuto-no-Kami, Lady of Mists, Empress 
of Fogs, Hazes, Steams, and Waterfalls."

	"Yeah," Kiri sneered, "And I'm the Queen of England."

	"How odd. Your Majesty looks almost Japanese," Misuto 
said curiously. "Have the English been conquered in the last 
two hundred years?"

	Kiri stared at her. "That was sarcasm."

	"Indeed? Where is this kingdom of 'Sarcasm'?"

	"She means it's a figure of speech," Genma interrupted 
hastily. "Look, are you really some sort of kami?"

	Misuto blinked. "Well, of course, silly mortal. I'm too 
magnificent to be anything else, am I not?"

	"Well, her ego's certainly godlike," muttered Kiri. Genma 
nudged her.

	"You may worship me now," the self-proclaimed kami 
declared, eying the surrounding buildings curiously. 

	"Is your name James Dean?" Kiri drawled.

	"No. I am Misuto-no-Kami, Lady of..."

	"How about Frank Sinatra?"

	"No. Lady of Mists, Empr..."

	"Then I ain't worshippin' you," Kiri concluded. "Dunno 
about Genma here, but I don't think he's likely to either."

	Genma just stared at the two.

	Misuto frowned slightly. "How odd. Usually people are 
quite eager to worship me, yet you seem almost disrespectful."

	"Imagine that," Kiri said blandly.

	"Well. I'll just have to get some believers." She glanced 
imperiously at Genma. "Summon me a levy of peasants to 
construct a temple fitting my glory."

	He blinked. "I, er, don't have any peasants. There aren't 
any in Japan any more."

	The kami moved a hand in front of her mouth, shocked. 
"Oh dear. Was there a plague?"

	"No, everyone became equal during the Meiji Restoration. 
You know, democracy."

	She stared at him blankly. "Who was this Democracy-
san? He sounds Greek."

	Kiri snorted in disgust. "Least-educated kami I've ever 
seen."

	Misuto shrugged. "Lock you in a bottle for two hundred 
years and see how up-to-date you manage to keep." The blue-
grey eyes flared, a swirling light illuminating them. "That can 
be arranged, you know."

	Genma sidled over to his friend. "Kiri?" he whispered.

	"Yeah?" she replied, staring at the mist kami.

	"It might be a good idea not to piss off the nice lady with 
the halogen-lamp eyes, ne?"

	"Okay."

	"Democracy," he told Misuto. "All the samurai and daimyo 
became the equals of the peasants. No more caste structure."

	The kami stared at him in blank incomprehension.

	"Look, there aren't no more peasants, okay?" he said 
resignedly. "None. If you want a temple, you'll have to build it 
yourself."

	Misuto frowned. "This isn't the reception I'd been hoping 
for, you know."

	Genma shrugged helplessly. "Sorry. The twentieth century 
isn't much on kami."

	"Yeah, we have pop idols now," Kiri added helpfully.

	"Well. I am certainly better suited to worship than your 
popping icons..."

	"Pop idols."

	"Whatever." She sniffed petulantly. "I certainly do not 
pop."

	"What do you do?" Kiri asked curiously.

	"I am Misuto-no-Kami, Lady of Mists, Empress of Fo..."

	"Yeah, but what do you _do_?" Kiri interrupted. "I mean, 
if you can use your holy mystic Shinto whatsit to gimme a bag 
of gold coins, I'll worship you til the cows come home."

	Misuto beamed. "I can call up mists and fogs!"

	Kiri nodded. "And?"

	"I can disburse mists and fogs."

	"Go on."

	"I can manipulate and summon spirits of mists and 
fogs..."

	"I'm sensing a trend here."

	"So you're pretty much a mist and fog person?" Genma 
hastily asked. Misuto nodded happily.

	"I was much worshipped by daimyos who wished a 
concealing mist to hide their troops..."

	"No more wars," he told her. "It's against the 
constitution."

	"Oh." Misuto looked taken aback. "Sailors would offer up 
sacrifices to keep fog from blinding them, luring their ships 
onto the rocks..."

	"Not a problem anymore," Kiri said airily. "We have radar. 
Don't even notice fog."

	"I had offerings given to me to stop the sweltering 
humidity of summer..."

	"Air conditioning," Genma said reluctantly. "Sorry."

	Misuto blinked. "Oh dear. Isn't there anything concerning 
fog that people need fixed?"

	Kiri scratched her head. "Can you do anything about 
smog?"

	"What is smog?"

	"Carbon Monoxide in the air, pollution, that sort of thing."

	Misuto thought for a bit. "That is more the province of 
Gaka, Lord of Poisons."

	Kiri shrugged. "Sorry, then. Guess you're out of luck."

	The mist lady looked lost for a second, then her eyes 
hardened slightly. "Well. We shall see. I shall build my temple, 
take a consort, and throw such a fog over this island that not 
even your 'rabar' can cut through it! Then we'll see how much 
they don't need me!"

	"You do that," Kiri said, turning to go inside. "I'm gonna 
get some work in on my bike. Have fun with the kami business, 
you two."

	A curtain of swirling mist sprang up in her path. 
Snorting, Kiri strode into it. 

	Fascinated, Genma watched as she tried to walk through 
it, like a swimmer trying to wade through a pool full of 
gelatin. Finally Kiri was forced to draw, panting, to a stop. The 
mist swirled, and gently but firmly pushed her out.

	"I did not give you permission to leave," Misuto said 
mildly. 

	Kiri stared balefully at her, clothing drenched with 
moisture. "Look, lady, what do you want?"

	Misuto smiled cheerfully. "You will begin converting this 
shabby dwelling into a temple to my glory. In the meantime, I 
shall ascend to the Heavens to renew my powers, which I fear 
begin to diminish after such a long stay in that accursed 
bottle." She glanced at Genma. "You, boy."

	He frowned. "Yeah?"

	"You shall be my new consort."

	Kiri broke into a spate of coughing. "Him? Genma? You're 
picking Genma as a consort?"

	Misuto blinked. "Yes?"

	"Shouldn't you be setting your sights a little higher?"

	"Hey!" he protested, feeling slightly hurt.

	The two women eyed Genma with the Look. It was, he 
reflected glumly, something all women must be born knowing 
how to do. It's the same general look a butcher gives to a cow.

	Men had a similar one that they used on attractive 
females, but they weren't allowed to blatantly use it in public.

	"He's fairly muscular," Misuto noted approvingly. "Lots of 
stamina, I would guess."

	"Yeah, but look at the build. That's all going to turn to fat 
around age 35 or so. And the face isn't very good."

	"Oh, I think it's quite nice. Sort of that rough-hewn, 
sloppily-chiseled peasant look."

	"Hey..."

	"Well, if you like that sorta thing, I guess. Me, I look for a 
good butt, and that isn't a good butt."

	"Do you mind, Kiri?"

	"I think it looks serviceable enough, if perhaps not 
superior. Besides, he is powerfully built, and they say that 
girth is equally distributed. Is he of great thickness?"

	"HEY!"

	"Genma? Jeez, I'd rather not think about it, thanks. I 
suppose he's probably about average."

	"I can ask him to remove his clothing for closer 
inspection."

	"That's enough!" he barked, flushing a bright red. "Look, I 
ain't gonna be no-one's consort, okay?"

	Misuto blinked at him. "You seem to think you have a 
choice in the matter."

	"I sure do!" he said, glaring at the two women. He hadn't 
fended off Nodoka for two years just to get caught in five 
minutes by some chick from a bottle!

	"He has spirit," Misuto commented with approval. "Such 
men frequently pillow most enthuastically."

	"Gosh, really? Is that supposed to be a good thing?"

	"I'm going home," Genma declared. Kiri found the damn 
thing, he thought darkly, let her deal with it. And what was 
wrong with his butt, anyway? It was a perfectly fine one, he 
thought.

	"No," Misuto said decisively. "You'll ascend to the Heavens 
with me now."

	A gleaming pillar of swirling, illuminated fog slammed 
down out of the sky, engulfing him.

	When it finally vanished, he was standing right where he 
had been.

	"I said, ascend to the Heavens," Misuto said irritably.

	Again the pillar slammed down, engulfed him, and 
vanished. Misuto, looking visibly drained, slumped to her knees. 
A horrified look came over her face.

	"That can't be... I have to have one temple left 
somewhere..."

	"Something wrong?" Genma asked drily. 

	"I can't gain the Heavens!" the kami wailed. "My temples 
must all be gone! How? What sort of monster would violate a 
shrine?"

	Kiri sighed. "Lemme guess. All of them were in large 
cities, and none of them were in Kyoto."

	Misuto blinked. "Yes?"

	Genma nodded. "The bombs must have got them during the 
war. Sorry."

	The mist lady sat down heavily, a panicked look moving 
across her face. "I'm stuck here? I'm stuck on this plane with 
just a emergency reserve of power?"

	"Looks like it." He shrugged, feeling slightly sorry for the 
strange being. "Sorry."

	Misuto stared blankly at the ground. "Where am I going to 
stay? What am I going to do?"

	He sighed. "Kiri, don't you have a spare room in the 
garage?"

	The young mechanic stared at him. "You've got to be 
kidding."

	"Look, we can't just leave her on the street, okay?"

	"Oh? Watch me."

	"C'mon, Kiri, she's just a bit... dated. You know how bad 
this neighborhood can be at night. Can't you give her a room for 
a few days?"

	She snorted. "Why don't you give her a room, oh handsome 
consort?"

	Genma sighed, a shadow moving over his face. "You know 
about Mom."

	Kiri was silent for a few seconds, then nodded. "Okay. But 
just a few days."

	"Thanks, Kiri." Smiling slightly, Genma knelt next to the 
almost comatose mist kami. "Hey, uh, Misuto?"

	She glanced at him blankly. "Yes?" 

	"Kiri here'll put you up for a few days, okay?"

	Her face brightened hopefully. "She will?"

	Kiri nodded reluctantly. "Since Kasigi here's so 
insistent."

	Misuto looked at Genma with worshiping eyes. "Oh, thank 
you, Kasigi-sama!"

	"Sama? He's sama all of a sudden?"

	Genma squirmed. "Well, you know, thank Kiri..."

	The kami batted blue-grey eyes at him... which really 
were quite beautiful, he thought absently. "You know, that 
consort offer still stands..."

	He gulped. ""Well, er, see, haha..."

	"He's already ga-ga over a girl," Kiri translated. "And 
she's dim enough to return the attraction. Sorry."

	Misuto looked sad for a second, then smiled cutely. "Well, 
we'll see."

	Genma felt a bead of sweat slowly wind it's way down 
his forehead.

	Kiri snorted. "Okay, right. You, mist woman, come with 
me. I need someone to hold the oil pan."

	"Okay! What's an oil pan?"

	Wincing, Genma began the long walk home. Somehow he 
got the feeling that it might have been kinder to leave the kami 
on the street, where all she would have had to worry about 
were muggers and rapists.

-----------------------------

		And so Joe's Garage became home to a fictional 
	American homicidal mechanic, a teenaged Japanese 
	homicidal mechanic, and an immortal mist kami. Talk 
	about strange bedfellows.

		For my part, I couldn't decide whether to be 
	flattered or dismayed by the attention Misuto was 
	showing me. It was certainly good for my ego, but like 
	the folk proverb says, the best thing to be in the eyes of 
	the gods is unknown. And Nodoka probably wouldn't be 
	thrilled about it, either. Your mother could get quite 
	possessive, at times.

		Heh. If I had only known, I would have had Kiri turn 
	the mist kami out on the street then and there. At least 
	none of your fiancees were older than Japan itself...


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