Well. Haven't drawn these two in something like a decade. But I'm terrible at staying away from things. Eh. Marked mature for implied spectacular nudity.

"Look, uh ... Takashi, you said your name was?"

"Ame no Yamamori no Takashi-no-suke." The tiny fertility spirit managed a surprising gravity as he gave his moniker. "Though as you are now my residence, I suppose Takashi-kun will suffice."

"You said you were a tanuki, not a raccoon."

"Not coon, -kun! It is an honorific suffix, Ookaminomure-san."

"What?"

"You said your name was Wolf Pack, ne?"

"... Wolf**gang**," the erstwhile husky muttered, rubbing at his temples. Five hours previous, he had been a fit, muscular dog on a week-long all-expenses-paid vacation to Japan that he managed to win from a few lucky breaks on a game show. Now he was some hybrid of husky and tanuki, bloated like he was pregnant with a litter and unable to cram his lower half into the jeans he'd been wearing.

He really should have just held it until he got back to the hot spring inn. But no, Nature had called, and he'd sneaked off the path into a secluded grove to make a quick answer. How was he supposed to know that the grove used to be a shrine, or that in relieving his waters he was desecrating the last remaining foundation stone?

The resident kami had not been amused. "As if centuries of boredom and loneliness watching my shrine fall into ruin were not enough, now you come along and make me homeless? Such impiety! Such impertinence! Such disgrace ..." And the little translucent golden creature cried out his lamentation. "Oh, my lamentation!"

"Hey, listen, I ... I'm really awfully sorry for ... well ... wrecking your existence, little, uh ... wait." Wolfgang frowned. "How do you speak English?"

"Berlitz correspondence course," the tanuki replied, waving a hand.

"O .... kay. Look, I want to help make things up to you, but ... I'll need your help to figure out how. You say you need a new home, right? Is there another shrine in the area that you can move into?"

"Not a one. ... and the ones that I could, the rent is outrageous."

"Okay, uh ... are you able to find something else to inhabit?"

"I'm not that sort of kami!" The little creature looked offended for reasons Wolfgang could only guess at.

"Sorry, sorry ... uh ... hey, I know! Aren't there towns where the local shrine has a portable altar? And for some festivals, the priests carry the spirit down to another location in a parade. With a little work, I could make a movable shrine and--"

The spirit's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. "That! Yes, we can do that! You shall make an excellent shrine!"

Wolfgang wasn't entirely sure what happened after that. He saw the little spirit fly toward his midsection, felt an impact like a jousting lance mounted on a freight train hit him in the gut, and everything went dark for a while ... and when he woke up, the golden critter was beaming at him from atop a white hill that he later discovered was his own swollen stomach.

And now he was trying to explain to the little spirit why he couldn't just waddle back to the hotel with no pants on. "See, public indecency is already a crime in itself. And when you add in the fact that I ..." The hybrid tried to bend and get a proper look past his own horizon. "Sweet mother of canteloupes, are those what I've been feeling against my knees? Are you some kinda fertility god or something? I mean, uhm. ... I'm already taller than most of the locals, so everyone's gonna notice. And with me being a foreigner, that means an international incident and articles in all the popular magazines about me being culturally appropriative scum ... and just a whole lot of general misery that I'd be stuck with, and you'd be stuck living with. So, uh ... yeah. I require trousers. Or a beach towel."

Takashi considered things for a moment. He looked at the bloated body of his new domicile, then at the scraps of fabric that used to be Wolfgang's jeans and undershorts. "I can work with this." A few gestures, an intonation of a few key syllables ... and a pair of navy boxer-briefs draped themselves atop the shelf of Wolfgang's gut. "These pants twist space," he said proudly. "Wear them, and even your boulders will prove no impediment to walking. Don them while I repair your sad excuse for hakama."

"I, uh ... thanks. I think. Uh. ... is the huge leaf on the crotch really necessary?"

"Tanuki tradition."