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. 

 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.”

 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.”

 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.”

 Either Mr. Tanaka gave up his son, or he died.

 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. 

 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.