![]() Concrete buildings squished side by side with structures of more outrageous architecture-was that a church or a love hotel?-as if eager to swallow up the streams of pedestrians and bicycles headed every which way. Billboard after billboard covered in Roman letters, Kanji, Hiragana and vivid images all jumbled together. We’d left the rice paddies and entered the outskirts of the Tokyo mega-city. ![]() The pressure in my skull…it will be too much soon.” “You’re lucid, right? You know we’re on our way to Yasukuni Shrine to see the Council?” None of us were used to Dad contributing much to the conversation, but this was his country. Kwaskwi sat up a bit, the lazy mirth abandoned as he zeroed in on Dad. “All war dead are honored there,” said Dad in a raspy voice, “not just criminals.” “Yeah, Manchukuo and Nanking survivors totally have their panties in a twist.” The overly formal inflections felt like a defense mechanism. “Those who support Japan’s modern incarnation as a country with no standing army think the yearly visit in poor taste,” Ken said. Causes all kinds of problems with Korea and China.” “And the Prime Minister goes there to commemorate the dead each year. An obvious aura of discomfort crept over Ken. “Yeah, including Class-A war criminals,” said Kwaskwi. “Yasukuni Shrine was established by Emperor Meiji for the souls of the war dead.” “The Emperor lives at the Imperial Palace. “Where does the Council hang?” said Kwaskwi. ![]() He Sees You When He's Creepin': Tales of Krampus ![]()
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