“Umiko,” said Jiro as the giantess carried them through the night air. “I’m glad you were willing to return Aya’s boat. And I’m glad you’re not angry at me anymore. But why … please tell me why I am riding between your breasts?!

“No room. You ride breasts.”

Jiro opened his mouth and then shut it. Well, he couldn’t argue with that. Umiko was walking down the mountainside with Aya’s boat, the Hinomaru, mounted on one shoulder. In her other hand, she held Aya, who was still asleep and now snoring softly. With each step, he could see and feel the trees around them quiver from the impact. The space between Umiko’s breasts was probably the safest location for him … but still, pinched between the giantess’s fleshy walls, he felt like he was making a terrible invasion of privacy.

“Umiko,” he said to try to keep his mind off the perilous situation. “You said your husband died. What happened?” After Jiro’s tears, Umiko had suddenly become friendly. She seemed like such a nice, innocent girl. He was curious: why her hatred of humans?

“Husband human. Umiko human once too. Husband die. Umiko become yokai.”

“I see …” So Umiko was some kind of vengeful spirit? If that was the case, then something terrible must have happened to her husband.

“Umiko can you … tell me how your husband died?”

Umiko paused on the mountain slope. It was night now and there was not a single sound in the air. The other animals, it seemed, were afraid of this giant busty woman with the seaweed hair.

Gently, Umiko nodded. “You tell Umiko. So Umiko tell you. Husband kill self. He put poke poke in belly and stomach fall out.”

“Poke poke in belly?”

Umiko nodded. “Poke poke big knife.”

Big knife … could she mean a sword? But people didn’t kill themselves with swords anymore. If that was the case, then this yokai was a lot older than she looked … she didn’t look a day over twenty.

“He killed himself … I’m sorry Umiko.”

“It ok, Jiro. I sorry for you too.”

With each step, Umiko’s giant breasts bounced, and Jiro felt himself slowly slipping down her chest. He straddled the surface of her mounds with both arms and pulled himself back up. If he slipped through her cleavage and fell, he would break a leg at the very least.

“Achoo!”

“Bless bless.”

“Thanks Umiko.” Jiro wiped his nose on the fabric of Umiko’s chest covering. “One thing still bothers me … Why do you say humans killed your husband? It sounds like he killed himself. Did someone make him do it?”

Umiko knitted her brow. “Good spirit come to Umiko. Say husband die because human bad. All human evil. Human hurt husband so Umiko hurt human.”

“Do you still believe that?”

Umiko shook her head, sending her long seaweed hair waving to and fro. “No, some human good. Jiro good. Brown girl good. So Umiko help Jiro and brown girl.”

“So it was you that took Aya’s boat? And chased away all the fish in the sea?”

Umiko nodded. “Umiko hurt humans. Not kill human but hurt. Kill bad.”

Jiro smiled. Despite everything that had happened, it was clear Umiko was not a bad yokai.

They were out of the mountain now and houses were appearing here and there. There was a giant walking through the rice fields, but the occasional car that passed them in the dark paid no attention. It was as Kaori said: people only saw what they wanted to see. For some time they went on in silence. Tremors shook the earth, but the people of Sochi Bay probably rationalized these away as tiny earthquakes: a common occurrence in Japan.

Something still bothered Jiro. He had completed Sheena’s quest: in a sense. With Aya’s boat back and Umiko no longer chasing away the fish, surely she and the other fisherman would leave Soko Island alone. Sheena would be pleased.

Yet, something was weird. With Umiko’s limited vocabulary, he probably wasn’t going to get any more information out of her. But this “good spirit” that had told Umiko to hurt humans … It was clearly not as good as Umiko believed. And there had been that incident with Yui on the cliff face. Another case of a vengeful spirit … Could the two incidents be connected somehow?

Jiro thoughts were interrupted by a sudden movement. Umiko’s breasts spread apart and Jiro slipped through, falling down into the darkness … right on top of Aya’s cantaloupe breasts. With his face buried in her soft cleavage, Jiro let out a giant sneeze.

Aya sat up suddenly with a yelp, head turning left and right in a panic. She flailed around in the dark, and her foot caught Jiro in the face. Another hit him in the gut, nearly knocking him off of Umiko’s palm.

“It’s ok Aya, it’s … ouch! … It’s me … Jiro … achoo!”

“We here,” said Umiko, when Aya finally calmed down. “We here at ocean.” Then, like a quarterback throws a football, she tossed Aya’s boat into the sea.