AN. I cannot believe it's been 2 years since I updated this story :O I'm very sorry about that! I started this chapter months ago, possibly even last summer, and I have only now got round to finishing it. It does start off where the last chapter finished, so you may want to revisit the last chapter, but you can probably read it without going back.

Hope you enjoy!

Godziroki

Miyagi threw the apartment door open and dropped his briefcase in the hall with a thud. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket, tugging the tie roughly from his neck. His lips pressed thin, he quickly scanned the living room for his wilful lover and, finding the room empty, walked purposely over to the spare room.

Entering, his eyes flicked to the What If Machine before fixing on Shinobu.

"Shinobu. What was that ridiculous display in my office?"

Shinobu looked up at him, frowning.

"What do you mean, ridiculous? You stole something of mine, I came and reclaimed it!" Shinobu retorted angrily.

"All that screaming and shouting, Shinobu, you threw a bloody tantrum! In the middle of my workplace, in front of my subordinate! And we're meant to be keeping a low profile, dammit!" Miyagi growled, his hands on his hips.

"I don't throw tantrums, Miyagi, I'm not a baby! And maybe you should think next time before you give my stuff away!"

"Well, I can see I was right, look at you, you've been using that damned machine again and your face is wet, I told you the thing was bad for you."

"No, it's not. In fact, you should be thanking it," Shinobu replied, quirking his eyebrow, his hands on his hips.

Miyagi paused, confused. "Why on earth would I want to do that?"

"Because it proved it to me. Your feelings. For me and for that git. So you don't need to worry anymore, I won't get jealous anymore – though I still think your behaviour with him is incredibly inappropriate and you should be lucky my father or one of your students doesn't catch you in the kind of positions you two like to get in together!"

Miyagi's stern features softened as he listened to Shinobu's words. His expression turned to a mixture of guilt, sadness and relief as he replied,

"Shinobu-chin… you shouldn't need to ask that machine to find out how I feel about you. You should know. How many times have I told you I only think of Hiroki as a friend? How many times have I told you...that I love you, you daft kid?! I don't want you ever to doubt that."

Shinobu blushed and looked away.

"Well, I won't anymore, will I? So that's that, and the machine is staying."

"Hmm, fine…" Miyagi reluctantly agreed. He moved over to pull Shinobu into his arms. "So… what's for dinner?" he asked.

"Oh… I haven't made anything yet," Shinobu replied guiltily, his voice muffled by Miyagi's shoulder.

"That's alright. Let's just grab a takeaway and stick the tv on, I feel like having a lazy evening relaxing with my Shinobu-chin."

Two hours later, Shinobu yawned and stretched on the sofa, eyes flicking over to Miyagi now that the film had finished and the credits were slowing rolling across the screen. He was sprawled out, his feet resting on Miyagi's thighs, Miyagi's warm hand resting on his ankles.

'That made a change from the usual films we watch! I quite enjoyed that,' he said cheerfully.

Miyagi snorted. 'I should think it was different. Not much to compare between Godzilla and a Matsuo Basho documentary!'

'I imagine someone could manage to find some similarity between them,' Shinobu suggested slyly, squealing when Miyagi pinched his toes. 'Anyway, I think I should be allowed to pick the film more often.'

'Nope. Today was a treat, since poor baby Shinobu-chin got so upset earlier, poor thing!' Miyagi teased.

Shinobu flushed and tried unsuccessfully to pull his feet away from Miyagi who merely grabbed them and held them in place, trailing his thumb over the soft balls of his feet. Shinobu felt his mouth twitch in response to the light teasing and schooled his features back into their usual frown.

'I wasn't upset, Miyagi, just cross, and for a good reason!' He saw Miyagi open his mouth to respond and quickly continued, 'Anyway, whatever! Now I've got the machine back, let's go and play with it. Just something unimportant, whatever, you know. Actually, I've got just the question! Come on, Miyagi.' Shinobu leapt up from the sofa and grabbed Miyagi's arm, heaving the older man out of his seat with surprising strength and pulling him along into the spare room where the machine now held its recently restored exalted position.

Miyagi huffed and let himself be led on somewhat reluctantly. Dragging a hand through his hair, he said,

'Shinobu-chin, do you really think this is a good idea?'

Shinobu scowled. 'Yeah, Miyagi, it'll be fine!' Turning to the machine, he said with a triumphant grin, 'Machine! Please show me – what if Godzilla was real?'

Miyagi turned and looked at him somewhat incredulously for a moment, then asked,

'That's it? That was your oh-so-inspired question? You've got no originality, no creativity in you, have you, Shinobu-chin?' He shook his head in mock despair. 'Besides,' he continued, 'what's the point in asking it something that could never actually happen?'

Shinobu batted his arm in annoyance. 'There's nothing wrong with my question, Miyagi! And remember, your first question was what if I was only ten centimetres tall and that would never happen either. Now be quiet and watch!'

The screen on the What-If Machine had already begun to come into focus, showing the back view of a very familiar building. The office, store room and lecture rooms used by the literature department at Mitsuhashi University were all located along the right side of the building, the windows facing east and south around the edge and onto the wide expanse of gravel and turf in front of the building. Miyagi and Shinobu now had a fine view of the block housing the University's Science department, much less well known to them yet still recognisable by its red bricks and the laughing students milling outside.

One of the doors to the Science Department opened and the Machine took them inside, down a long, echoing corridor and left through wide double doors into one of the Chemistry laboratories. The room was laid out neatly, rectangular benches bare except for the Bunsen burner in the centre of each, the walls lined with granite surfaces bearing tidily arranged and carefully labelled flasks and jars containing a number of liquids.

The only unruly area of the room was the Chemistry Professor's desk at the front which was piled high with paper, a number of strange, brightly coloured substances in flasks perched dangerously close to the edge.

The Professor himself was sitting cowed at his desk, peering fearfully at his slender, brown-haired colleague standing before him, gesticulating wildly as he ranted on.

'…that's why you must, I said, must make sure you end your lectures when the bell goes! My lazy lot of students are slow enough to traipse across the building from the labs to my lecture hall, but when you consistently overrun, they miss half the lecture! So please – just try to do better from now on.'

The machine shifted their angle to face the speaker and if Miyagi and Shinobu hadn't already recognised the less-than-dulcet tones of Assistant Literature Professor Kamijou Hiroki, they would have had no trouble instantly identifying him by the familiar deep-set frown lines and cheeks spotted red with anger and frustration.

Kamijou seemed to have finally finished berating the elder Professor. Standing with his hands fiercely gripping his waist, he took a deep, suffering sigh. Closing his eyes, he reached out a hand for his flask of coffee that he had slammed on the desk when he first entered. The Chemistry Professor gave a small, nervous squeak, but Kamijou had already raised the flask to his lips and taken a large swallow.

He spluttered. His eyes flew open and he stared in terror and disgust at the flask in his hands. It was not the one that he had brought in; that flask was still sitting on the desk containing the exact same amount of coffee as before. The flask in his hand, made of glass rather than metal, contained a suspicious, thick, fluorescent green liquid and was now only half full, the gloopy green substance smeared around the edge where his lips had been only a moment earlier.

Kamijou gagged and staggered backwards. The glass flask slipped from his grip and smashed on the floor as his hands flew to his throat. He stared at the Chemistry Professor in horror and gasped,

'What was that? What was it? Oh god… Is it dangerous? It is poisonous? It wasn't acid, was it?'

He began to hyperventilate, his fingers scrabbling and scratching at his throat as if he could peel the vile, unknown substance back up his gullet and out of his body.

'N-no, not acid,' the other Professor stuttered nervously, wide eyes following Kamijou as he stumbled around the laboratory. 'T-to be honest… Well, it's new, it's part of the research I've been doing… So…I'm not sure exactly what the effects will be. We'd better get you to a hospital right away!' He jumped up and fumbled for his mobile phone to call an ambulance.

Kamijou had stopped listening. His breaths were coming in short, violent bursts and he felt strange, confined, like he was holding too much in and something inside was pressing against his bones, his skin, pushing up, pushing outwards. He couldn't tear his eyes away from his hand which trembled and quivered beyond his control, the skin seeming almost to ripple before his eyes.

He felt tight. Suddenly he had too much energy. He balled his fists but the urge to strike out was overwhelming. He had to stretch! Pushing out his chest, he reached up as far as he could go, straining, uncomprehending as he heard something rip and tear. He felt too hot, his blood throbbed in his veins, roaring in his ears, drowning out the sounds of voices, of someone shouting.

The ceiling was getting closer. He didn't know how that had happened, didn't think to care, but it was definitely closer. Everything else seemed smaller. The room was too small. He swelled and swelled, still feeling too cramped in his body, his skin stretching out and thickening with every passing second. He felt his head brush the ceiling and try to keep going but was pushed down instead, so he snarled, his voice erupting from his throat in a deep, visceral growl. His tongue flicked out and slid past razor sharp teeth.

Finally, he looked around. The Chemistry Professor, tiny, inconsequential man, cowered in the corner, terror frozen on his worthless face.

He held his hands up and examined his body. Thick, scaly fingers with curved claws prodded at cool, green hide, sharp teeth grinding against each other. Suddenly moving, he darted forward and checked his reflection in the window. Reptilian eyes peered back at him.

Fury overwhelmed him. Wheeling around, he struck out with one sinewy arm and sent the Professor's desk crashing across the room, papers flying in all directions, glass jars shattering, loosing their contents to ooze and drip onto the floor.

'What have you done to me?!' he bellowed, his new voice an octave lower than his human voice.

The Professor whimpered and pressed closer into the corner but made no reply.

Roaring at the top of his voice, Kamijou spun around and charged about the room, his thick, heavy tail swinging behind him and slamming into chairs and stools. His beady yellow eyes blinked fast and swept furiously over the carnage. His great claws twitched, restless and angry, and nothing was safe from his rage. He toppled desks, scraped deep gouges into the walls, heaved at the granite tabletops with all of his new-found strength until they ripped and tore apart from the walls. With each strike of his fists, Kamijou released a torturous bellow that shook the glass windows. Dimly he was aware of shouts and screams from outside, doors slamming in the corridors, but he took no notice.

Finally, when there was nothing left in the room to destroy, everything smashed or ripped, splintered or spilt, Kamijou spun towards the exit. The Chemistry Professor still sat slumped behind the door; he had never made it out of the room, falling unconscious from the terror as the reptilian monster rampaged all around him. Kamijou's highly sensitive nostrils twitched in distaste as he smelled the urine that had soaked a dark, wet patch into the crotch of the Professor's grey suit trousers.

Stomping forwards on heavy feet, Kamijou ducked his head through the doorway and forced his broadened shoulders across the threshold, pulling down the doorjambs as he went. Once through, he straightened up as best he could and swung his head left and right, cold eyes narrowing and vicious teeth flashing as he snarled at a few straggling, terrified students. Turning right, he thumped down the corridor, dragging his talon-like claws across the wall as he went.

Emerging into the bright courtyard outside, he could finally stretch out as much as he wanted. He raised his head and straightened his back, his arms, small in comparison to the rest of his bulky body yet still muscular and strong, stretched out to his side. Kamijou took a great, deep breath into his no longer cramped lungs and roared as loudly as he could.

His head snapped forward. Where before he had been wild-eyed and almost flustered and crazed in his rage, now his eyes were cold and determined. With a strong, sure foot he plunged forward, his tail sweeping behind him, not caring as he strode past trembling and screaming humans, students and teachers alike. Bending his head, he re-entered the university, this time on a clear course for the literature department.

In the time that it had taken for his metamorphosis, the hour had struck and his motley crew of students had mostly managed to assemble themselves in the lecture hall, a few sitting sedately, their notes and textbooks arranged neatly on the writing surface in front of them. Several, however, were chatting and laughing noisily, and a handful, Kamijou noticed with great disgust, had the audacity to be throwing paper aeroplanes instead of preparing for this opportunity to learn. These were second years; they should know better, they had no excuse!

He ground his teeth together and burst into the hall, stomping across to the offending students. He ignored the gasps and shrieks of terror as he scooped the main culprit up by the front of his shirt, his claws piercing through the fabric.

'Moronic time-wasters like you have no place in my class,' he bellowed, before flinging the student away from him, across the rows of seats. He twisted his head to the side to observe the rest of the class scrambling to flee the room.

'That's right,' he roared, 'I've been too lenient with you all! There'll be no more distractions, missed classes or late assignments! You'd all better pay proper attention from now on - or I'll EAT you!'

He stomped after them, sweeping out of the lecture hall and down the hall, snarling as he went.

Miyagi was in the Literature Department's office, swinging gently from side to side on his chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips, when he was jolted from his reverie by a loud bellow and the rhythmic shaking of the floor as though something heavy was being repeatedly dropped down the corridor. Startled, he jumped up and stuck his head around the door. His mouth fell open, letting the cigarette fall unnoticed, as he took in the sight of a terrifying prehistoric monster rampaging down the corridor.

Students were fleeing in horror from the monstrous beast, who was shouting in a thunderous voice something about disrespect to these hallowed halls of wisdom and learning, as his razor-sharp claws gouged chunks out of the walls.

'Oh, Miyagi-san!' a weak voice gasped next to him, and Miyagi turned and saw the Dean of the Literature Department stumbling towards him, outrun by the younger, fitter students. Miyagi grabbed his arm and yanked him into the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

'What the hell is going on?' Miyagi demanded, in shock at what he had just witnessed.

'Kamijou! It's Kamijou,' the Dean managed to gasp between heaving breaths. 'Some science accident... I don't know... He's - he's turned into a monster!'

'Well, I think there was always something monstrous at least latent in him,' Miyagi smirked, then jumped as the floor shook once more and the windows rattled in their frames.

The Dean was staring blankly at a jacket thrown over the back of the sofa. Belatedly, Miyagi realised the jacket belonged to Shinobu, and it seemed that that fact had just registered with the Dean too, who suddenly frowned and turned questioningly to Miyagi.

'Miyagi-san, isn't that my son's jacket? Is Shinobu here?'

Miyagi's mind flashed back to Shinobu's last visit, which had been a surprise visit when Miyagi was working late and which had culminated in both of them staying up very late indeed, helping each other 'relax' in various positions on the sofa, desk and up against the office door... He flushed, thinking how lucky it was that of all the clothes that had been scattered throughout the office, it was only Shinobu's jacket that got left behind and not something more incriminating.

'Er... He left that the other day, Dean, when he popped into the office to see if you were here,' he gabbled.

The door suddenly shook as an angry fist hammered into it, the sound of splintering wood resounding in their ears. Miyagi leapt at the opportunity to get the Dean off the subject of his son taking off and leaving his clothes in Miyagi's office, and grabbed the older man's arm, pulling him to the window and encouraging him to escape that way. The Dean balked when he saw how far away the ground was from the third floor office, but a second hammering at the door persuaded him to clamber onto the sill and carefully wrap his hands and feet around the drain pipe outside. Miyagi followed him out as soon as it was safe to do so and the two men, in their bespoke tailored suits, put their unused stomach and arm muscles to the test as they shimmied down the drain pipe as quickly as they could without slipping and falling.

When they finally reached the bottom, the Dean spent a few moments bending over and dragging a few oxygen-laden breaths into his lungs. The stomping and roaring continued to resound across the campus from the monster within the building, and as soon as he was recovered, the Dean began to attempt to guide the witless, stampeding students to a safer rendezvous point. Miyagi himself whipped his phone from his pocket (where it lived, despite his reproaches to many students for carrying their phones into his lectures when they might start ringing at any moment) and brought up the telephone number for Kusama Nowaki, Kamijou's partner. Breathing heavily, his voice laced with fear, he did his best to explain what had happened, only managing to convince Kusama when Kamijou turned the corner behind Miyagi and bellowed so loudly that Kusama could surely have heard it across the city without needing to be on the phone.

Miyagi took off at a run, shouting at some nearby students to take refuge amongst the cluster of trees in the centre of the grass. The approach to the university looked as though it had been hit by a tornado, with benches overthrown, chunks of solid stone scattered across the path, the grass crushed under Kamijou's stomping feet, a messy trail of footprints mashed into the lawn. Students and staff were running in all directions. In the distance Miyagi thought he could hear sirens blaring.

It took Kusama forty minutes to get to the university. From his hiding place behind the remains of a stone statue, Miyagi saw him as the one person actually running towards the huge, green, reptilian bulk that had once been his colleague. Waving his arms, Kusama shouted to Kamijou as loudly as he could until the monster finally caught his voice between his own fierce snarls and roars.

When Kamijou realised who was behind him, he whirled around and fell silent in shock. Then, his short arms falling limply to his sides, he began to back away quickly.

'No-Nowaki?!' he gasped. 'What are you doing here? No, don't - don't look at me! I'm hideous, don't look at me!' Kamijou frantically began peering around, looking for something large enough to hide his bulk from his lover that he hadn't already razed to the ground.

'Hiro-san!' Kusama called anxiously as he followed after him. 'Hiro-san, wait! You don't have to run from me!'

'But it's too late!' Kamijou panted in his new deep, rough voice as he trundled away from Kusama as fast as his hefty feet could carry him. 'The science lab is gone, I destroyed it! There's no cure now, I'm stuck like this forever! Go away, Nowaki! I don't want you to see me like this!'

Kusama continued to pursue him relentlessly. 'Hiro-san, stop! It doesn't matter! You know I'd love you no matter what, don't you? I love you, Hiro-san! I always will! So please, won't you stop this madness and just come home with me?'

Kamijou shuddered to a halt. He turned to face Kusama, his scaly visage betraying his shock and bewilderment. 'No-Nowaki? You couldn't possibly... Love me like this?!'

Kusama closed the distance between them and ran his hand up Kamijou's short, reptilian arm.

'I love you, Hiro-san - whatever shape or form your body comes in. Now come on - let's go home.'

Slipping his hand into Kamijou's clawed fist, Kusama gently pulled the giant reptile towards the dilapidated campus gate, now swinging on its hinges, and guided his now docile lover home.

The picture on the What If Machine's screen gradually faded out. Miyagi pursed his lips in mocking disbelief at the ridiculous storyline. Beside him, Shinobu gave a small chuckle.

'Wow. So glad science hasn't actually come quite that far. At least I hope not - man, if it has, I can totally see that scenario coming true!'

Miyagi snorted and turned to face Shinobu incredulously. 'You think Kamijou turning into a Godzilla-like monster is at all realistic?'

Shinobu nodded, wide-eyed. 'Sure. If the science was there, yeah. That's totally what he'd be like.'

Miyagi opened his mouth to disagree, then paused. He frowned in consternation.

'Hmm. Maybe there's a way I could get Kamijou banned from the Science Department in future. You know, just in case.'