A King's Rain (A Godzilla Universe Fan Fiction) (Section One)

    Night had fallen over Sado Island, its many small forest-shaded villages and simple docks aglow in the dark with the faint pinpoints of warm light that lured many a weary fisherman to well-earned rest. A few of the older - and wiser - watermen had already retired to bed for the night - the sounds of wind and tide pulling them to sleep beside their wives. However, the majority of the sea dogs had returned to port with hungry bellies and a keen need for strong drink and a tale or two by the fires. These were the simple pleasures of those who plied the coastal waters for their daily bread - and they took them gratefully at every opportunity. One never knew when the sea might claim a life; better to live to the fullest at every turn. Yet, despite the sounds of laughter and merriment that echoed out softly from the docks and many vessels firmly secured to their wooden tracts, the night itself seemed to be conspiring against those whom cast their voices joyously out into its shadows. A deep darkness was gathering in the form of massive, slowly-roiling clouds that steadily robbed the stars from the sky over the Sea of Japan - the lights reflected upon the nearly glass-like surface fading away one by one to an inky black.

   Matsuo Maru was the youngest and greenest member of his simple fishing trawler's five-man crew - an aspect of his incredibly recent employment he found himself lamenting deeply. After seventeen hours of grueling labor upon choppy seas which yielded what most captains considered barely passable hauls of fish, the Hoto had at last dragged back into port with the night's tide. However, as the other members of the crew had quickly piled off the small vessel and eagerly made their way toward their favorite bar for drinks and supper, Matsuo had been left behind with the esteemed task of untangling a pair of particularly stubborn nets. A task he would have to finish before dinner and bed would at last be within reach.

    His shirt, pants and hands stank of fish, oil, sweat and brine, yet what vexed Matsuo most of all were the nets upon which he currently worked. Old and used well beyond their prime, the thread-worn lattices of twisted cord were shot-through with holes that seemed eager to twist in upon themselves to create impossibly complex knots. Yawning as he cut away a hopeless bundle of tangled net and set about patching the hole he'd made, the young fisherman shifted slightly atop the barrel upon which he sat - angling so that the light from a nearby halogen lamp fell more clearly upon his hands. Dirty, rough and tinged with faint traces of crimson from old scratches and cuts. Silent testimonies to a job well-done. 

    The tide steadily rocked the Hoto lazily back and forth, the the hull occasionally thumping softly against the dock and accentuating the soft murmur of the waves lapping upon the Shore. Though he worked diligently, Matsuo found himself steadily succumbing to the ocean's gentle attempts to coax him to sleep. Yawning once more and stretching his arms up over his head as his stomach grumbled, he ran his fingers through his messy raven hair and leaned back upon his barrel - feeling the rope-laden railing couch his back. Resolve fading, Matsuo felt his eyelids beginning to slowly descend - and he blearily decided he'd eat when woke in the morning. However, just as the young deckhand felt consciousness slipping away to sleep's embrace, he was swiftly dragged back from the edge of rest.

    The brilliant flash of distant lightning suddenly lit the sky in flickering blue-white, surprising Matsuo and causing him to tumble from his barrel with a yelp. Rubbing his hip and grumbling in tired annoyance as he stood, Matsuo looked out to the black horizon of the ocean as the first low, booming rolls of thunder echoed out over the waves. The warm wind was soft and hid a subtle tinge of coolness that promised the coming of a strong storm - the type of squall born from only the furthest reaches of the sea. As yet more bolts of lightning sporadically flashed down to the waves miles off shore, briefly illuminating massive thunderheads making their slow approach to Sado Island, Matsuo listened intently to the faint rumbles and drawn-out growls of thunder over the growing gusts of wind. There was a strange quality to it, he thought; something more pronounced yet indescribable beneath the rolling booms that accompanied the distant arcs of lightning. fffwump...

    Stepping to the railing and leaning forward to watch the approaching storm, Matsuo strained to listen. Yet again, lightning forked down over the far-distant waves, followed swiftly by another roll of echoing thunder. However, this time, Matsuo's ears discerned something more amongst the rumbles shaking the distant sky - something softer and less obvious. It was nearly impossible to hear at first, but as the thunder slowly faded, Matsuo could just barely discern a very slow, rhythmic thumping. fffwump......fffwump......

    A noticeable swell lifted the Hoto gently as Matsuo held his breath and listened. For a brief moment, he thought his imagination and lack of sleep had gotten the better of his senses, but as he continued to focus he became all too aware of the fact that the strangely-muted and subtly powerful thumps were slowly growing louder and more pronounced - like stunted booms of soft thunder beneath the distant waves. Fffwump......fffwump......fffwump... Another, slightly larger swell of water lifted the Hoto gently once more - thumping its hull against the dock as Matsuo's hands began to grip the railing more tightly.