The Dojo, 20th Ward - 10:00 AM, May 8th, 2022

Junko Kobayashi was not a morning person.

Her long black hair messily shifted out of her eyes as she shook her head a bit, slowly rising from the bed as she lurked towards the connected bathroom, beginning the most tiresome part of her day, and yet also the part she’d most meticulously improved at.

Her paired prosthetics sat atop the counter, a set of neatly folded clothes beside them, along with her quinque blade. All she could do was let out a small sigh at the process to come.

The door closed with the quietest shove she could manage with her foot, the stump of her arm fumbling with the light switch momentarily, only for her to recoil as the light flashed her single eye with a sudden burst of disorientation. Next, the hard part. Junko fumbled with her half-awake balance for a moment as she lifted a foot up to the counter, doing her best to hold the first prosthetic perfectly still as she shoved one of the stumps into it, twisting to the side a small bit. A resounding 'CLICK’ echoed through the bathroom as it locked in place, with Junko nearly falling over as she stumbled back. At least what came next was a bit easier, grabbing up the matching prosthetic and slotting it onto her opposing arm.

By the time she made her way out of the bathroom it’d been nearly 20 minutes of fumbling with her prosthetic and struggling to get on the kimono she usually wore around the dojo. It may have suited the atmosphere of the building, but it wasn’t an easy thing to put on for someone with no feeling in either hand. As the door opened she’d just finished wrapping her eyepatch around as she flicked off the light, the sound of movement catching in her ear. “Ah, sorry, hope I didn’t wake you, Toba. You’d think they’d make these things easier to put on” she quietly joked, shifting the fingers of her prosthetic unnaturally. “Still, better back here than in a hospital. I’ve had enough of those for a lifetime, I think.”

Just as Junko was about to take a seat near the desk, she noticed a small off-white shine by the base of the door. Leaning down and lifting the paper folder, she took a deep breath.

“Looks like Akane left a job. Glad I won’t have to sit around for too long.”

XXX 8th Ward – Aogiri safehouse; 14th of January, 2022 – 10:43

It was a sunny, cool, refreshing morning – by January standards anyway – but even that could not help the drowsy and lethargic mood inside the safehouse. The building was a spacious warehouse located in the more coastal areas of the 8th Ward, and generally speaking, it was run as such for most of the time. It usually combined the roles of living quarters, command centre, workplace, storage and transport hub for Aogiri. When there was need or benefit, Aogiri appointed certain ghouls as truckers and had them drive useful goods to the ports, to be smuggled over to the 9th and 11th wards over water. Currently however, the building was conspicuously empty – its entire inventory had been moved over to the 9th Ward about a week ago and it sported an incredibly bare interior. There was almost nothing inside. A considerable number of grunts had clustered around the right side of the building and were occupying themselves with small talk or gambling. Other, smaller groups hung out and leant against the light grey walls, simply killing time and shooting the shit. The only extraordinary feature of the massive storage room was a small, elevated podium in the centre and towards the back of the building. This podium consisted entirely of silver briefcases stacked up together on top of each other. A trained eye would chillingly observe that they were all Quinque cases. Upon the podium itself laid an ostentatious, tall, slim, wooden throne.

There, lazily resting upon that throne, was Koharu in her usual place. Her gaze idly examined her domain from wall to wall, and yet found nothing that could capture her hungering attention. With an almost imperceptible sigh, she leant back further into her chair and crossed her legs, placing them on a makeshift footrest in front of her – yet another, slightly more elevated part of the podium, also made entirely of Quinque cases.

The woman had clearly not wasted time, either with collecting hunting trophies or collecting clothes. While her black sport shoes were obviously chosen for comfort, her blue jeans and wine red crop top were a more distinctly personal touch. Her look was completed with a beige fur scarf wrapped around her neck, worn on a whim. The whole outfit was clearly picked out for both style and prestige. She had also grown out her hair, allowing it to reach shoulder length and flow in a slightly messier, more unkempt look. The most surprising and unusual feature of her appearance was the flower crown adorning her head. The wreath bestowed her with a pure and gentle beauty at the same time as it accentuated the distant fire in her deep, brown eyes. For a long time now, she had been the queen of the castle within the 8th Ward, and she carried herself with the appropriate sense of invincible dignity burning in her soul. The fearsome dignity befitting of an S rate one-eye, a fighter, a troublemaker, a trophy hunter and a ward leader, one as dangerous to her enemies as she was to her allies.

Grasping her chin, the ghoul hummed briefly, as if in thought, then looked to her left.

“Hana.” She addressed her attendant, immediately sending the woman into a panic. “Wine.”

Bowing, the other woman frantically stormed off to fetch a bottle of blood wine from the storage, leaving her superior by her lonesome.

There, Koharu waited in her high place, eyes aflame with tranquil, confident indifference.

7:30 PM - January 7th, 2022 | The 20th Ward, :re

The smell of coffee waved along the room and out the door as another piping hot cup finished brewing, the grey haired manager letting out a tired yawn as he placed it for one of the waiters to take. While Tokyo may have been quieter nowadays, the city's need for coffee had not slowed down.

A few waiters had gone, a few had come, but one thing remained the same; :re was still the same safe haven for ghouls and humans alike that it had always been. But to Tadashi Hisakawa, it brought something more than that. It brought relief that, at long last, things were peaceful.

As the door ring he set another cup down, muttering the same greeting at always over his shoulder as he made his way back to the kitchen.

"Welcome to :re!"

For a while, Junko couldn’t feel or see anything. Dreams faded in and out, sounds cut in sometimes, and more often than not she didn’t have the slightest idea or even care for what was real and what wasn’t. She heard sirens, speaking that she couldn’t understand, and woke up for barely even a second when her teeth finally unclenched.

“…ll take care of… ry abo… ...eah” came several words, fading in and out as a man spoke. “…should be awake in a few… …one with…” The second voice was Akane, at least that much Junko could understand. But soon enough, she slipped off yet again.

Until finally, a light pattering faded into her ears.

Junko’s eyes awoke to the muffled sound of rain hitting the window. She didn’t know how long she stared up at the sterile white ceiling, it felt like even turning her head took too much effort. But as soon as she did, she was greeted by a sight just as lonely; an empty room, a cloudy sky out the window, and a calendar sitting on the bedside table.

“April 16th” Junko mumbled, sitting up tiredly. For a split second she felt a moment of panick, even if she was too exhausted and drowzy to even fully understand why. But sure enough, the second she leaned closer she was greeted by a small slip of paper. “Junko. I took ‘that’ for safe keeping until you get home. Get well. -Akane.” Junko let out a sigh of relief as she read the note, reaching over to pick it up.

But, the moment she did so, she noticed something. Her prosthetic was different. As she looked over it, admiring all sides she couldn’t help but notice it was rather well made. A fine white plastic material, black joints between each finger, with the same slot on the bottom that she’d requested RIFT add to her old one. Had they made it? She had of course done plenty of work for them, but she still felt grateful. She raised her other hand to feel the new material but, the second she did so, her blood ran cold. Another white finger came into view, pressing against her prosthetic arm.

Both her arms had been replaced. “No… That’s not…”

The 20th Ward, :re - 2:30 PM, April 14th, 2019

The cafe had been halfway through its usual hours when Tadashi called his sister. Not for any particularly important reason, just checking up on if she was still stopping by later that day. And of course he wasn’t particularly broken up to hear she wouldn’t make it, but he hadn’t expected the other knews.

“Wait, she’s what?” He asked, his eyes widening a bit. “That’s... yeah, you should be there. Coffee’ll have to wait.” Tadashi stared out into the cafe. Tokyo really did seem to be picking up again, as much as he didn’t want it to. But it was looking at the cafe that made him remember something. “...Actually, what hospital did you say she’s at?” Tadashi waited a moment for her answer. “Thanks. Ah, no I’m not going, not yet anyway. But I think one of the employees might be heading over. Yeah, you too. Later.”

Tadashi hung up, and made his way out into the cafe. It was empty; something he’d usually be annoyed by, but for once he was glad about. He made his way over to Shoko, who was halfway through cleaning one of the tables. “Yo, Shoko” Tadashi greeted. “You know how you said you’d talk to Junko eventually?”

“Not to rush you, but I think this might be a good time.”

The clock ticked as Junko waited, sunk down in the covers of her hospital-bed. There was nobody there, but still she kept the covers up to her chin. Like she was trying to hide her new prosthetic from herself. She didn’t want to think about it, she didn’t even want to acknowledge it. The AC hummed in the corner providing at least a little white noise to distract herself, but even still she felt like she’d been here forever.

So, for the time being, Junko simply waited. And as hard is it was, she tried to relax. It was funny in a way how different she was. From the ghostly figure and terrifying mask, to a simple hospital gown. Her messy black hair pushed in front of her blind eye, trying and failing to hide her burns. Junko hated it. She looked vulnerable, like someone waiting to be a victim. No quinque, no kagune, no tools.

For the time being at least, she was nothing more than a human.

[Thread intended for Fog and Evil but anyone is allowed to visit Junko]

[Continued from Visiting Hours]

Junko had done this more times than she could even remember.

She remembered a time when she cowered in fear at the idea of violence, when the idea of killing an opponent, ghoul or otherwise, was enough to make her sick. When the thought of having to take on such a terrifying creature herself was almost incomprehensible. But, one way or another, by sheer force of repetition here she was.

The name ‘Yurei’ suited her well. It was similar to the Western idea of a ‘ghost’, a spirit that had passed away without a funeral, left to wander the earth. A creature that for reasons such as love, revenge, jealousy, or even despair had been left to spread it’s misfortune on any poor soul that had crossed it’s path. Junko’s white robe stuck out through the dark corridors as she raced through the construction site, her silhouette floating between cover as she rushed straight at the first target she set her sights on. The first of the robed ghouls turned right as it heard the sound of something tapping against one of the crates, barely catching sight of Junko as she vaulted over the wood, diving straight at the ghoul. Her knife passed through the ghoul’s neck like it was tissue paper. There was no loud clanging or forceful shoves, just a graceful slice as it traced along her destination. One down. Before the others had time to react Junko threw her prosthetic arm up, a small black weight flying up and loudly latching onto a metal beam, the wire retracting as it threw her up after it.

Junko gracefully landed on the red metal beam. Blue ukaku shards pelted upwards towards her, tearing a small slice along the edge of her robe as she darted away, retreating further into the unfinished floor. One of the ghouls yelled something she couldn’t hear, did they have reinforcements? Either way it didn’t matter, they weren’t anything to worry about. What Junko really needed to find out was where the high-rank was. Fodder could be dealt with any time, but she needed to stick by Toba when someone higher rank than either of them showed up. From the sound of things, Toba must have been dealing with some of the others. There were only 3 remaining in the construction site, which meant any reinforcements would be most likely to come from the other alley. Sure enough as she darted back out from her hiding place, she saw 4 more approaching from the opposite side her and Toba entered from. Easy enough, just a bunch of grunts in robes.

But, as Junko darted back out of the shade and into danger again, and overwhelming sense of exhaustion washed over her. Maybe it was the lack of the sleep or the heavy topic before they’d been called out here, but Junko coudn’t help but think of it. All it would take is one mistake, and she’d be killed. Or worse, hurt again. Maybe an arm, maybe a leg, maybe her remaining eye.Was it really worth it? Colorless had a lot of members, and they could regenerate. Did she really need to be here?

Junko leapt off from her hiding spot, pulled back her arm, and prepared yet another slash as she plummeted straight towards one of the ghouls.

Kangawa Ward, Yokohama A long time ago

“So you’re really set on this?” the boy asked, desperately trying to figure out how tying a bow worked. “Yep!” Junko nodded, staring up at his taller reflection in the mirror. It’d been years since he saw her smile so wide, considering what had happened, it was almost a little off putting.

“You almost gotten eaten” Jubei Kobayashi argued, lowering his hands as he finished. “Don’t get me wrong, if you don’t want to ‘take up the family tradition’ I can’t blame you. I doubt mom and dad would even notice honestly, they’re so busy these days” he grumbled, fighting off his urge not to laugh as Junko admired her twintails. “But couldn’t you at least go into something safer? Why go through that again?”

Junko pouted a bit, crossing her arms. She did her best to look offended, but it was a bit difficult considering she was a good six years younger, and a good 60cm shorter. “Because...! Well, I just...” Junko trailed off, her determined persona fading back into her usual shy, timid one. “I wanna be like him.”

“You mean the Investigator, right?”

“Mhm.” Junko nodded, getting back to work on messily trying to tie her uniform’s ribbon. As she continued, Jubei let out a sigh and of course was left with no choice but to show her how to tie it. “I mean, I would’ve gotten eaten if he hadn’t seen me go in there. How many people do get eaten cause of that? If I became one, I could help! I know I’m not that strong now, but I’d get strong! They don’t all start out like they are now, right? So why not?”

As Jubei finished up, he knelt down to her height. “If you’re serious about this, I’ll do anything I can to support it. You know that. I’m not trying to stop you but... Just give it some thought, alright? You’re only seven. Give it some time. If that’s still what you want to do later, then do it. But just... keep on open mind, right? I got a friend who’s dads a cop, people with those kinds of jobs always end up exhausted.”

Junko sighed. She always hated when Jubei spoke like that, he sounded like what her friend’s parents sounded like. In retrospect, maybe it was a good thing. Her own parents had never spoken to her as much as that, so maybe Jubei was the closest she’d have.

...

As the two children reached the end of the road, Jubei pat his sister on the head. “Well Jun-chan, this is where we part ways” he over dramatically stated, giving a fake bow. “Take care, don’t get into fights, and please don’t try to walk home alone again. Just wait for me or go with one of your friends. Alright?”

Junko nodded her head, a few black hairs sticking up where his hand ruffled her hair. “Actually, I-I was thinking of uh...” Junko trailed off, stuttering a bit. “...Well, nevermind. I’ll talk you about it later.”

Jubei turned back. “You wanted to stop by the CCG’s Branch Office to thank that guy again, right?”

“How’d you know?”

“You already asked me about twice this morning. Like I said, if you still want to I’ll walk you there whenever. Just don’t go alone. Alright? Now I gotta get to class before I’m late again.” Jubei gave a rushed wave, sprinting off in the other direction, and Junko was left alone once again.

Junko walked down the road the same way she always did, humming some opening she’d heard in an Anime the previous night. The smell of the ocean filled her nose like always, it was what Yokohama was known for after all. In the beginning, it’d been a fishing village. That legacy wasn’t something that was forgotten with time, and in an odd way, the constant smell of fish had gone from disgusting to comforting.

But, as the sight of her school’s gate grew closer and closer into view, she found something else catching her eye. Someone just like her, but also completely different. Someone walking to their daily routine, ready to go through the same thing as ever, albeit much older. But what Junko caught notice of wasn’t where they were headed, but the long white coat, and a matching suitcase. Those were two things she knew very well.

“E-Excuse me!” she blurted out, rushing over to the much taller man. “You’re a Ghoul Investigator, right!?” she cheerfully asked, smiling up at him.

The man turned to her, his grey hair blowing in the breeze. “Yep, First Class. Need something?” But as he turned to her, Junko saw something. She tried to convince herself it was just her imagination, or that she was overthinking it, but it stuck with her in a way. Though not enough to change her decision.

He looked exhausted. His features were young and smooth, his chin rounded a bit in a way that took away from the tough demeanor she’d expected. But there was something about the way he looked down. His brown eyes were surrounded by dark circles, a strange sort of sadness visible in his half-squint. It was a mixture of sadness and inescapable dread. What was he so worried about?

“I-I-I...” Junko stuttered, caught off guard by his expression, even if he tried to force a smile. “I was hoping I could ask you why you joined the CCG!” she exclaimed, smiling again. “I want to become an Investigator, so I hoped maybe I could ask you! I’m sorry if you’re busy, I’ll just-”

“It’s fine, but my answer might not be what your hoping for though” he answered, squatting down. “Sorry to disappoint you, I guess I can’t really remember what convinced me.”

“Really?”

“I guess I just thought I wanted a job where I could help.It was either this, being a cop, or something else along those lines. I started out pretty good at it too, got my own squad in less than a year.”

“You have a squad!?” Junko exclaimed, perking up, mouth agape as she stared in awe. “Oh! So that must be where you’re going, I noticed you aren’t heading towards the Branch office-”

“No” he answered, cutting her off. “I don’t have my own squad anymore. They...” His voice faded out, nostalgia washing over his features as he stared down at the innocent girl. “...They moved to a different Ward.”

“Oh, really?” Junko asked.

“Yeah.” Junko, despite her age, was good at reading expressions. She knew something was off in the way he said it. But even still, she didn’t resist when he tried to change the subject. “You’re an observant kid. I’m sure you’ll do just fine if you really want to be an Investigator. If you want my advice though, go into the Bureau. Not Ghoul Investigations. You’ll still be able to help, and it’s not nearly as dangerous.”

The man stood up, and Junko shrugged. “Maybe I will. I really wanted to be a Ghoul Investigator though, that way I don’t have to stick with one Ward. It’s just you know...” Junko smiled, crossing her arms. “I wanna save people, you know?”

He flashed a bittersweet smile, putting his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. So did I.”

“I’m so tired.”

Junko’s knife slid through another grunt’s chest as her foot slammed onto his leg, kicking it out from under him as she slammed her hand at the air, her knife flying through the air and impaling itself in a red hood. Before the ghoul even hit the ground Junko pulled back on the black wire, her knife landing back in her hand. Aogiri’s grunts were dropping like flies. But even as Junko’s one eye raced about, desperately trying to spot her next opponent, she saw something else; two figures, a man and a woman, both hunkered down in the shadows. “Civilians!?” Junko thought, jerking her head around to find where Toba was. He must’ve been busy with some of the others, she couldn’t see him. Not that she had the best visibility with her one eye anyway.

“Ff...fucking... Colorless...” one of the fallen ghouls muttered. Junko had learned to ignore taunts. They were nothing but a distraction. Regardless, the path into the alley and out to the street was clear. And as much as Junko didn’t want to, she cared far more about keeping the innocent alive than she did keeping her silence. “You two!” she shouted, pointing to the civilians. “The alleys clear, get out of here!” But the two just clung to a dumpster, trying to back up further. “It’s fine!” she shouted again. “I’m not a ghoul, just get out of-”

It was only then that Junko noticed the shadow in front of her, tower over hers. She’d forgotten that as much as she might act and live like a ghoul, she didn’t have the senses of once. Junko jerked around faster as she could, desperately trying to block with gauntlet.

But Junko didn’t have a gauntlet.

Junko came soaring past where Toba had been pre-occupied, slamming into the pavement as the side of the larger ghoul’s bikaku smashed into her. Bits of metal and plastic tapped against the ground as Junko felt her vision go blurry, looking up at Toba. She raised a hand to feel her face; sure enough, her mask was still there. Nothing to worry about on that end. What really worried her was when she tried to sit up, only to end up mask-down on the pavement. “Shit.”

Junko stared down at empty sleeve, bits of white metal and screws falling out onto the dirt and concrete, her prosthetic broken into far more pieces than she could collect in the middle of a fight. “I’m fine” she preemptively told Toba, standing up straight. “Take care of Aogiri.”

Junko rushed back into the fray, narrowly dodging ukaku shards as she lunged at one of the remaining three ghouls, violently stabbing repeatedly into his chest. The first went down like a bag of meat, and she didn’t stop to admire her work before rushing the remaining two. The last grunt’s koukaku shot out as he slashed a blade down at Junko. She flicked a switch, and her knife separated into two parallel blades, only to close again the moment the koukaku wedged itself between them, trapping the grunt. Junko shoved upwards, the ghouls mask splitting as half as she stabbed into his forehead. Only one remained on Junko’s end.

But Aogiri ghouls were nothing if not spiteful.

She looked to see where the big one was, but he was gone. Nothing but the thumping of footsteps telling her where he’d gone. And the moment Junko turned, her blood ran cold.

Time seemed to last an eternity as she stared back at the civilians, bother trapped in the corner as the larger ghoul ran towards them. Junko weighed her options; she didn’t have her gauntlets to grab him with, and even if she did he was far too large. Her knife’s wire couldn’t hold him back, and she couldn’t throw well enough to do anything. Her only advantage was speed.

And then she thought again. Her only advantage was speed.

Junko took off towards the humans. The ghoul wouldn’t stop if she simply lunged at him, he’d made his choice. If he couldn’t beat her, he just wanted to kill the two humans. An act of spite towards the supposed ‘heroes’.

She remembered her question she’d been asking herself all night. No, more like all life-time. The entire life she’d lived since her ‘death’ against Hayate. If she kept going, she’d hurt herself. Not intentionally, not because of any one decision, but because of what she’d decided to work towards. Was she willing to sacrifice more?

Junko didn’t know. She didn’t know if she wanted to keep fighting, or if she wanted to be hurt again. It wasn’t an easy decision. In fact, she didn’t even really think this was an example of that risk. She just acted on the first idea that came to mind. But somewhere, on a baser level, her instincts made that choice for her.

She was.

Junko lunged in front of the ghoul, slashing up at him, a wild smile beneath her mask. She knew she was right to trust her own skills, she’d gotten him. Blood spurted out from the ghouls neck onto her robe, his stance loosening as his kakugan faded away along with his life, his corpse falling down. His blood falling down. His kagune falling down.

His blade falling down.

Junko’s eye widened as his axe-like bikaku fell, the tip slowly dissolving as he collapsed beside Junko. And for a moment, everything seemed to go numb. And for the first time in years, Junko did the one thing she tried to never do. She dropped Lancelot.

The two humans screamed and rushed away as Junko fell onto her back. “What’s wrong? I took care of it, you’re safe now” she thought, Lancelot clanging against the floor. “It’s fine. This is... fine, right?”

Junko tried to get up, but she couldn’t move. She felt something soaking her shoulder, numbing pain racing through her. She looked aside, and for the second time in her life, she saw blood coating her sleeve.

And then she saw an arm suspiciously far from where it should’ve been. “Haya...te...” she muttered, kicking at the ground as she tried to crawl closer to the arm. Her teeth bit down as she clenched the handle of the dagger in her mouth, her mind too muddled to even proccess what had happened. “Don’t let go of Hayate. Don’t let go” she reminded herself, tears welling up as she felt her vision getting darker.

“Don’t let go of him again.”

And then, Junko’s vision went dark.

10:00 AM - April 11th, 2019 ; The Quinx Chateau - 1st Ward, Tokyo

The first thing Alisa heard when she awoke was actually one of her favorite sounds. It was just barely audible, if it weren’t for the monochrome window it would take a minute to notice. But even still, the sound of rain pattering again the window had always been comforting. Her home was a cold place, to say the least. Murmansk was literally in the arctic circle. She associated the sound of rain with being able to wear short sleeves for once, with having to bring in firewood when she was a kid. And as a teenager, it reminded her of being able to sit inside in her wheelchair, not having to feel like she was missing out being unable to go out.

Alisa stretched her arms as she crawled out of the warm bed, pulling on her track-pants and a white t-shirt, a pair of white socks pulled over her feet as she paced across the smooth wooden floor. Her knee pressed against the floorboards, bending underneath the desk and pressing down the button on her PC. It was nearly 10 AM, not particularly early. But she was no stranger to sleeping in on her day off. But sadly, being a Quinx wasn’t something she got a day off from.

The moment she stood, her eyes drifted down to the desk. “…Oh, right.” she thought, her eyes tracing across the tan folder. There wasn’t a name on it, but she knew full well what it was. The start of a very particular set of paperwork. Some she’d been thinking on for some time.

And some that could wait just a little bit longer.

Alisa made her way into the bathroom connected to her room, fumbling with the drawer in her half-awake state, struggling with a small bottle for a moment before dropping two small yellow pills into her hand. As much as they did help, Alisa did always feel a bit anxious about taking anti-depressants. The hour or so of nausea was a small price to pay comparatively, but it was always difficult to force them down.

Still barely awake Alisa practically stumbled out to the kitchen. Even sorting through the fridge for a drink was something that felt more like an unconscious habit than actually having any control. In no time at all she’d found herself screwing open a bottle of Lipovitan, tossing the two anti-depressants down her throat, and gotten to work on reading through the folder at the kitchen table. Though, it was less reading and more sitting and waiting to be awake, the nausea slowly setting in.

But, thankfully, Alisa’s early morning forgetfulness was made up for by convenience. A pair of footsteps slowly grew louder. And when she spotted the familiar face of her squad’s leader, Alisa seemed to wake up a bit more. “Dobroye utro (good morning ) Aoyama-san” Alisa greeted with a nod. A small smile formed, not a particularly noticeable one but compared to when she’d joined, it was at least a 100% improvement. “Do you have a minute? I was hoping I could discuss something with you.”

“I would like to prepare for having my next frame removed.”

Alisa knew it was a sudden subject for this early. She was very honest with the others, never the type to hide things on purpose. But at the same time, she didn’t like wasting others time. She had never even said a word about considering another frame removal in the past three years. Understandable considering the last one sent her into a month long coma. Then again, maybe it was to be expected. She was the first to get one removed last time, why not again? Alisa might not have been particularly hot-headed or reckless, but she wasn’t exactly one to prioritize her own safety either.

“I was hoping that I could get your thoughts on it before I ask for approval.”

12:46 PM - May 7th, 2019 ; The 20th Ward, :re

It was a slow day at :re. Slower than usual for the already quiet Ward. It felt like it was becoming more and more common to see quiet days like this. Not just in the 20th either. Compared to three years ago, it was like night and day. Had that really just been an abnormally awful year? Well, it certainly was abnormal, but Akane Hayashi was reluctant to write it off as just one year so quickly. As much as she hoped it was, she knew what getting over-confident could lead to.

The door chimed as it swung open, Akane’s hands resting in her pockets as she stepped in. In all honesty, she hadn’t intended to come here today. Her black gloves still remained to avoid leaving fingerprints, her mask still kept in a duffel bag along with a change to clothes incase she needed to dispose of bloodied clothing, she’d avoided her coat as it was just reaching the hottest point of the year though. But, surprisingly, her gloves hadn’t been needed. Not so much as a drop of blood. Others were working on looking into the targets that were in hiding, and at the moment she hadn’t even seen a ghoul. So, instead she decided to do something she very rarely did.

Get some rest.

In all honesty, Akane hadn’t been to :re as much as she wished she had. She hadn’t been there for it’s early days, and only arrived far too late in it’s destruction. But, from what she did remember it, she was glad to see the job Tadashi and the rest had done of creating something out of it’s legacy. She knew she’d likely never forgive Moriko, and neither did she really want to either. But, the fact stood that Moriko had done this well. At least she’d done something Akane could see good in.

Sadly, Akane suspected Tadashi might already be out for the day. He often was on Tuesdays, something about visiting one of his old friend’s from even older days. So although she had a feeling he wouldn’t be in, she couldn’t deny that :re’s coffee was worth the visit.

As Akane stepped inside, she didn’t recognize the woman behind the counter. Kazumi must’ve been out as well, there was no sign of her scent either. Come to think of it, this new hire seemed to be the only one working right now.

“Morning” Akane greeted, taking her hands out of her pockets as she reached the counter. “Is Tadashi in?” Akane looked over the stranger as she thought for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before, actually. Recent hire?” Akane knew of course she was right, memory was a crucial skill for someone in her line of work. And she’d been to :re plenty of times. Still, it seemed like a good way to start a conversation. Which, of course, seemed like a good way to relax. The :re employees had a different outlook from the ordinary ghouls or the hardened vigilantes. Optimistic, sometimes a little naive. But, at the same time, less cynical. Pessimism and pacifism didn’t often mix, after all.

/u/fogknight22

1:09 AM - May 5th, 2019 ; Zanzibar, The 9th Ward

Unlike the most morning and afterwork crowds that places like :re brought in, it went without saying that Zanzibar worked very different hours. Hours that Charlotte Kurosawa couldn’t complain about.

It’d been a while since Kichirou last worked a shift at Zanzibar. The two had vastly different specialties and roles within Aogiri despite holding an identical rank, and as such when one was particularly needed at Aogiri, it often meant the other would have more time away. While Kichirou was working hard to train some recent recruits, Charlotte found herself at Zanzibar, working behind the counter rather than writing in the back room.

Charlotte sat on the stool, feeling a perfect mixture of bored and on-edge. The bar was empty around now, most of the late night customers had gone home, a couple ghouls had stopped and bought basic information on some of the safer Wards, nothing out of the ordinary. Charlotte adjusted her black vest, her white dress shirt underneath buttoned up to the top, hands occasionally brushing off her black skirt. Her blonde hair had only been cut about three months ago, yet it’d already reached past her shoulders. She only cut it once a year; at the beginning of summer to help with the heat, the sudden weightlessness from her hair feeling a bit offputting. But even with her sleeves pushed up to the elbows it was still hot out. The rain pounded down outside, a fan blowing loudly in the corner of the bar, the familiar sight of rain running down the windows giving Charlotte a nostalgic feeling. She didn’t quite know why, but she felt it was something she’d enjoyed the sight of back home.

Maybe it was time to close up. It was getting late after all, around one in the morning. Charlotte didn’t plan on going to bed quite yet, but it still seemed like a reasonable time for last call.

Charlotte sat up straight, pinkish-red eyes surveying the bar one last time. Not a customer in sight. Good. She never liked having to kick people out, it was always more hassle than it should be. But no sooner had Charlotte resigned herself to get up from her comfortable spot across from the fan than she caught a whiff of a new scent.

The door opened, and Charlotte leaned against the counter. “Welcome to Zanzibar” she greeted, looking over her guest. “I was just about to close up. I guess if you want a drink before then I can stay open a bit longer.”

The familiar sound of sawing rang out through the back room of the cafe, a bit of red spurting out as Tadashi yanked, the bone finally snapping off. To his left a heavy, but surprisingly well shaped pile of red flesh, and to his right a few extra saws and knives in case one was damaged. His old white shirt was irreversibly stained, doubt going straight into the burn pile afterwards, his apron decorated with bits of red, just like his once-blue rubber gloves, his glasses traded for a pair of goggles and a surgical mask. It was a disgusting job, but a necessary one. “Let’s see...” he muttered, turning to his chart. “Four per day average... twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three...”

His eyes narrowed, movements freezing instantly. “...Damn it” He wasn’t dumb enough to not keep track of the supply, but he still hoped they’d somehow have a little bit more.

And for the first time since he’d joined Anteiku, a familiar problem had returned.

4:00 PM - May 20th, 2019 ; The 20th Ward, :re

The meeting room had rarely been used in the past few years. Most employees just used it as a break room, a room not particularly unlike Tadashi’s office. The rainy season was just beginning in Tokyo, and it showed. Rain poured down the window, thundering ominously putting an edge of anxiety over whatever reason Tadashi had called all the employees in for.

Normally, the cafe would be open right now. It wouldn’t have more than 3 or 4 of them here either. But oddly, Tadashi had called in everyone to meet at the cafe.

The door opened with quiet creek, though it was deafening to the mostly silent room. And from the other side came the manager, adjusting his glasses briefly as he shut the door. “I’ll get to the point right off the bat” Tadashi began, taking a seat across from the others, resting one leg under the other. “About a week ago we finished our last corpse collection for the month. We’ve been doing more runs than usual, partially to show newer employees how it goes, but earlier I was cutting up the meat and I noticed something.”

“We’re short. We have been for a little while. At first, I hoped it was just a dry month, and we’d find some more in time. But it seems like the rate of deaths, suicide or accident, has been doing down. The ones we get from Colorless help, but we still need more.”

“A few years ago something similar happened back in the early days of Anteiku. Problem is the boss back then never actually told me why it was happening, other than The Inquisitors were trying to start something. Thing is, this time it doesn’t seem like we have a group to blame for it.”

“So that’s why I’ve asked you all to stop by.” Tadashi crossed his arms, leaning back. “We need to figure out how to get new corpses. Don’t get me wrong we’re still getting them, but our current methods just aren’t holding up. Especially now that we’re getting more customers than back in the old days. We’re getting enough to keep the employees and a decent amount of customers fed, but we’re losing more than we’re finding.”

“So that’s why you’re all here.” Tadashi leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.”We need suggestions on how to find more. The way I see it part of Anteiku’s problem was that the higher ups tended to keep issues like this to themselves. If :re is going to be better than Anteiku, it needs to improve on Anteiku.”

“So, any thoughts? I don’t think I need to clarify that killing and ghoul-meat are out of the question”

Amidst the chaos of the warring factions, one group of ghouls pursued the odd goal of assisting the CCG investigators in their rescue efforts. The combined forces of :re and Colourless had spread their numbers out around the Crossing, hoping to save as many lives as possible. Surprisingly among them, was a certain ghoul still somewhat unfamiliar to the CCG.

“As I’m sure most of you already know, Aogiri has a large scale operation planned.”

As Akane gave her speech, Masahiro did his best to hide within the back of the crowd. He wasn’t ashamed of taking a stand, but he didn’t want to deal with the endless shit he expected to receive from Abdullah for his surface-level ‘hypocrisy’.

For a brief moment, he locked eyes with Tadashi, quickly breaking eye contact and shrugging in response. He had his reasons for being here, but they were his alone. If keeping them to himself meant appearing as if he turned his back on his beliefs, so be it.

“Hurry! You can flee through the back fire exits!” Jackal commanded a group of civilians, doing his best to shield them from the Aogiri grunts closing in. As the last of the humans made it past the store’s entrance, Masahiro used his claw to tear down the concrete above it. While the rubble didn’t completely cover the doorway, it was enough to deter any pursuers, or at the very least, slow them down.

Readying into a fighting stance, he turned to face the trio of grunts surrounding him. As expected, they wasted no time closing in, hoping to overwhelm Masahiro with their numbers. Jumping back and using the wall behind him as a springboard, his clawed koukaku unravelled into its individual tendrils as he leapt over the ghouls. Each of the tendrils individually reached out and yanked down the hoods of the grunts.

1 black, 2 brunette. He’s not here. Landing with his momentum, he continued dashing away, leaving the grunts confused as to what he was even trying to accomplish.

Rounding the corner, a sudden roar echoed from the center of the crossing, halting Masahiro in his tracks.

“Everyone in :re, retreat immediately. We’ve handled the civilians, it’s time for all of you to retreat.”

The sound of kagune smashing apart concrete nearly overshadowed Tadashi’s words, his voice pained and panicked.

“Retreat through escape route B, or whatever seems the most viable otherwise. Make sure you aren’t being followed and meet back up at the Colorless base. No matter what, do not go to the Crossing.”

Tadashi had never been a strict leader, and the tone of his demand made it clear this wasn’t up to debate.

Another voice rang out through the background of Tadashi’s radio, one entirely unrecognizable to any of :re or Colorless.

“Oni! Incoming, low and le-”

The transmission was cut off suddenly, leaving only the horrific sounds echoing from the center of the crossing in its wake. The news left Masahiro momentarily frozen, unsure of what to do. He wanted to interfere, but knew that he was too weak to do much. Tadashi may have been in danger, but Masahiro knew that meant that all of :re was as well. Just have to trust him...

“This is Jackal. I’m not far from the escape route; I’ll clear a path, but it may take some time.”

Almost as soon as he finished delivering his message, a harsh blow to the ribs sent Masahiro tumbling.

“That’s a cute collar you have there, Jackal. Should’ve known you’d shack up with some other idiots before long. Dogs are lost without their masters, after all.” The ghoul cackled loudly at his own joke.

That voice.

“Hyena.” Masahiro climbed to his feet, clutching his side as the three grunts from earlier surrounded him, their canine masks similar to the new foe’s. The ghoul ahead of him was dressed familiarly in a long fur coat, though the bloodstains gave it that maroon tint that unmistakably sided him with Aogiri. Fitting to his alias, he wore his hair in a black mohawk behind his spotted canine half-mask.

“If it weren’t for that kagune, I’d probably have run right by. The red hair is nice -- really, it suits you -- but that mask is just as ugly as the other one. Would’ve made more sense to change it completely, but then again, you are disgustingly sentimental,” the ghoul taunted.

“Is he here?” Masahiro asked, seemingly ignoring the man.

“Of all the idiots to run to though,” Hyena mused, motioning to the white cloth around Masahiro’s neck as the group began circling their prey. “No. You’re a lot of things, but a vigilante is not one of them. You must be that ‘stunning redhead’ I’ve heard about at that cafe.”

Masahiro stood his ground, subtly looking around for escape routes as the group began closing in. Suddenly, Hyena stopped.

“That’s the bitch cafe too, isn’t it? The pacifists?” The ghoul fell into a seemingly uncontrollable laughing fit. “Oh this is great, just fantastic. It all makes sense. You swore off violence when you left, so of course you’d flee to them with your tail between your legs. Do they cut your balls off before or after they teach you proper pour over technique?” His cronies began chuckling with him, their laughter grating against Masahiro’s ears.

”Where is he?” Masahiro growled.

“You’re being really demanding for someone at such a disadvantage, you know that?” Hyena snapped back. “What do you even--”

“You talk too much.”

In a split second, Masahiro closed the small gap between them, sending his kagune crushing down into the ground and clouding the air with the dust and debris of shattered concrete. Before he could recover from the attack, a sharp pain surged across his left shoulder as a chunk of flesh was ripped off entirely. From where he safely landed several feet away, Hyena spit out a hunk of meat.

“And you still taste like shit,” the ghoul retorted with a toothy grin. “Kill him.”

At their leader’s command, the surrounding goons darted towards Masahiro. Two bikaku, two rinkaku. Shit, I’m at a disadvantage.

For a few moments, the four of them almost seemed to be rehearsing a dance. Masahiro would dodge, but before he could counterattack another would strike. Without fail, they consistently covered each other from his attacks. Hyena laughed hysterically at the display, doubling over in his fit.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t be ready in case you came back?” he managed to call out between the cackling.

From behind his mask’s tinted lenses, Masahiro’s kakugan flared an intense red. The implications behind Hyena’s statement infuriated him. It wasn’t just that he was being targeted, but that Hyena would go to such lengths to protect him, all to spite Masahiro.

As the fight dragged on, Masahiro began to dodge more and more loosely. Each time, he grew more and more complacent, focusing entirely on the ghoul attacking and losing track of the other two. It was becoming a battle of endurance, and the three outmatched the one. Slowly, they adjusted their positioning, spreading out to take advantage of this blindspot.

As one bikaku attacked from the front, the other attacked from behind, winding up a finishing blow. Breaking his pattern, Masahiro took the hit from the front in his forearm rather than his kagune. Grimacing under the pain, his kagune unravelled and sprung out behind him, impaling the attacker before it could reach him. Smiling behind his mask, Masahiro took full advantage of his surprise attack to punch clean through the other attacker’s chest, letting the now lifeless body slump to the ground.

“And just like you, your lackeys fall into bad habits all too easy,” Masahiro sneered. “1 against 2. I like those odds.” Even if they are both rinkaku.

To Masahiro’s surprise, Hyena seemed unfazed. In fact, he was smiling even wider than before. More than that, the laughter that had gone quiet hadn’t actually stopped. Rather, Hyena was in such an intense laughing fit that hardly any sound escaped as he fought for air.

Masahiro’s eyes widened with fear as he realized what had happened while he’d been distracted by the fight; as more and more CCG forces began fortifying the central crossing, the Aogiri ghouls they had been engaging were freed from combat. Like some sort of twisted horror film, the ghouls redirected their attention to the nearest threat -- the lone ghoul wearing a white cloth. Head after head turned, revealing them all to be wearing canine masks.

“Surprised? Don’t be!” Hyena finally managed to bark out. “I’d never submit to Aogiri just to be a grunt! Like hell I’d let the Feral Dogs die off!”

Masahiro attempted to fall into a fighting stance, but his left arm failed to listen after the damage from the bikaku. His only escape routes were cut off by the dozen or so ghouls he could see surrounding him.

Too weak to save Tadashi...and too weak to save himself. All he could do was take one last act to save the others.

“Everyone, this is Jackal. Do NOT approach Escape Route B. Find an alternative path, I repeat, do NOT approach route B!”

Meanwhile….

“Where the hell did Masahiro run off to?”

A much larger ghoul, prone to more impulsive (and usually less intelligent) manners of action, found himself drawn to the movement and chaos occuring in a nearby store as he made his trek into the battlefield. Abdullah already had been working through the field, and had just come across an old friend, an encounter though lasting in shock didn’t derail him from his objectives. The first was to save lives. The secondary objective that mattered less to him, was to kill as many Aogiri personnel he could get his hands on. It was a guilty pleasure he couldn’t resist in situations like this, enabled by his own thinking.

He came near the store’s wall, and listened closely to hear fighting going on inside. And the distinct smell of his comrade faint but close. He knew it would be bad to try and go from the direct front or back, so in his mind sprung a plan. His shining kagune released from his tailbone, and like a pole vaulter he ran across to the end of the alley, then as he ran back he tied the tail around his right leg like a spring, in one swoop using it crouch and jump back up with the spring-like tail’s reinforcement shooting him up and landing on the roof.

Then came the harder part. He yanked open the outer ventilation with one arm, and hopped right inside. He was initially surprised that he fit, due to his large stature and weight. He crawled in, and began to hear more of the combat, and more so, what was being said.

Hyena…..sounds like quite the fellow

Lucky for him, they were being loud enough that the sound of his crawling and kicking weren’t heard, blending with the sounds of their own chaos. He reached a point a few yards in where the vent went downwards, so going deeper was out of the question. He looked to his right, yanking his neck to get a view of the openings in the shaft to see the bodies moving about, and luckily recognizing some of Masahiro’s colors as he was gladly still alive. Or just barely so. His tail came back out, and he prayed he wouldn’t land straight onto them as he split what came out of his tail in two and slit the bottom open. With a LOUD bang he landed into an air cavity, further widened by the damaged building. Rubble was inside his hoodie and gloves, and he coughed viciously as some even got into his mask.

YOU SO FUCKING OWE ME AFTER THIS

In a painful manner, he tried to place himself up in a standing position and feeling around in the dark to get a sense of where he was. Suddenly, he felt a heavy weight bash against him. It wasn’t enough to break the wall, but it felt almost like...the body of a person pushed against him.

And that’s when it struck him. He was inside the wall of the exact area Masahiro was fighting in.

Suddenly everything got quieter. The sounds of a few of the grunts went dark, which meant they were taken care of. He could finally hear a bit of what they were saying.

“I’d never submit to Aogiri just to be a grunt! Like hell I’d let the Feral Dogs die off!”

The smell of a horde overwhelmed him. His instincts fired up, and knew that Masahiro was in trouble when he heard his groan, followed by his….screaming?

“Come on, you bastards! How many will it take to bring down a weak little pacifist?”

In a few seconds he found a crack in the wall caused by the ghoul that previously was smashed against him through it, and though it was a shitty view…...it looked like a somewhat straight path.

By tilting his head a bit in the cramped space, he could just barely catch a glimpse of the battle. With such overwhelming numbers, Masahiro was planted in place, seemingly only striking with counterattacks, and decisively at that. Catching a leaping ghoul out of the air, he slammed him to the ground under his claw, only to immediately splatter his skull on the pavement with a forceful stomp. A slice across his shoulder, a stab through his thigh, a blow to the head. Masahiro’s adrenaline must’ve been spiking; if he felt any pain, he made no show of it.

A detached arm suddenly splat onto the wall, throwing blood across the makeshift peephole. Abdullah shrugged. (With the space he had)

He braced himself.

“ARRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

And within a second, the wall adjacent to a large group of ghouls was pulverized, wood studs and bricks flying across the room as the large, running ghoul with its entire tail split in two bounced forth. It shined with its blue veins making him instantly recognizable to anyone paying attention, due to the speed at which it happened. Abdullah’s gaze was set immediately on Jackal, who was now pinned to the ground by a pair of ghouls. The rest of the horde had taken full advantage of his immobility, dishing out a brutal beating on the defenseless man. With his tail behind him creating a split like Moses did with the red sea, Abdullah parted the horde with an explosive force. However, it was only enough to cause them all to trip and slide onto the walls.

Many violent groans and shouts came from the beaten crowd he very rudely disrupted, and amongst them a more powerful voice from the Hyena fellow.

“Ahaha, Lycan! Here to show us your fangs?” Hyena seemed elated at the wolf’s entrance. “Don’t let this pup ruin our fun! We were just getting started with our ol’ pal Masahiro, weren’t we?”

He grabbed Masahiro and shouldered him, and continued to run for the door. It was only now that he noticed that it was covered in rubble. He had no time to analyze it, so he just depended on his own strength as always to test how heavy it was.

“Where....is he?” Masahiro growled brokenly at Abdullah.

“On our ta-..well, my tail..”

Still running, Abdullah braced his core and held his breath as with the shoulder that didn’t have Masahiro on it he busted through the debris blocking the front door, him and the injured ghoul falling forward with Abdullah having dropped him rather harshly. His tail that was split in two joined to make the pointed kagune whole. The blue veins across it made a crackling sound as it pieced back together, as Abdullah saw it sustained a little but of damage as well.

“Ah shit….Can you stand Masahiro? I only stopped them for a second.”

Masahiro’s broken body trembled as he fought to lift himself, only barely raising his chest off the ground before collapsing once more.

“Go back,” he weakly commanded. Reaching out ahead of him with the one arm that would obey, he dug his fingers into the ground in an effort to drag himself to the door they’d entered through. “I’m not leaving him.”

“Guess not. I’ll handle it, don’t worry.”

Abdullah had no idea who this loud ghoul was, and why Masahiro was caught in a brawl with him and his gang. But it was pretty convenient considering they were in the middle of fighting a war right now. He stood up, luckily Lycan himself was barely injured. Turning towards the door a couple of ghouls that he had previously knocked over came storming out, but were inexperienced enough that Abdullah only sidestepped and slashed with his tail to incapacitate them. A more experienced, bigger one came hurling out at him with a Koukaku that he had to dodge and parry with his tail to get away from.

“Dirty blonde. Dyed….from black,” Masahiro coughed out. A smaller, less defined form of his kagune fought its way out of his upper back, wrapping around his limp left arm.

“....Save him. I need to….” As he lifted himself up with the claw, a shocking amount of blood that had already starting to clot dripped out of his abdomen. “I’ll butcher them all.”

Still fighting the larger ghoul, Abdullah found himself even more motivated by Masahiro’s persistence. They were never close, but he was prepared to stand here and defend him to the best of his ability, his rampant confidence convincing him he can take the dozens of them down, as he was still in fresh shape.

“Focus on regenerating, jump in when you’re ready!”

With a herculean amount of strength, Abdullah had bashed away the Koukaku of the ghoul and sent a swinging kick straight to his skull. The heel of the foot is pure bone, when it connects with the face the eye socket crumbles with ease. These were the thoughts he had as he turned back to see the ghoul’s mask shattered, the ghoul on the floor screaming as Abdullah’s kagune reached to the sky and pummeled into his chest to finish him off.

Abdullah had been performing these moves whilst stepping around the multiple other ghouls coming out at once who began to overwhelm him. He split his Kagune in two once more, crouching to have them jab to his sides sending two other fodder flying. He really could do this all night.

Masahiro had removed his mask as he hobbled after his comrade, using the doorway to keep himself on his feet. Almost as soon as he’d re-entered the battlefield, a ghoul was upon him. Barely raising his claw in time, the blow shattered his weakened kagune. With his good hand, he drove his thumb through the attacker’s eye, halting his assault. Yanking the ghoul close, the attackers hood fell, revealing his golden hair. Masahiro momentarily froze, allowing his enemy the opportunity to retaliate. Summoning a bikaku, the desperate man pierced a new wound straight through Masahiro’s side.

Bikaku?

Snapping back into the moment, Jackal tore out a chunk of the man’s throat with a violent bite before allowing the fresh corpse to drop to the ground. Heaving from the exertion, Masahiro couldn’t be sure if the blood he spat was his or the enemy’s, not that it mattered anymore. The agonizing sting of his many wounds didn’t deter him, but one can only push themselves so much. Heaving in effort, oxygen refused to fill his lungs, and the weight of his limbs all but anchored him in place.

Hyena’s howling laughter echoed over the battlefield, drawing Masahiro’s attention like a siren’s call.

“Hey, careful there you two,” the crazed ghoul taunted with a wide grin. “Wouldn’t want to kill the kid being so reckless, would you?”

Abdullah followed behind covering him, another ghoul larger than the last tackling him to the wall. Abdullah wrestled him back, using his kagune to circle around the ghoul quickly and tear through his sides. A loud thump was heard when he fell, and as soon as he did he saw Masahiro getting stabbed again and taking hits once more, except now each one became a fatal threat. Lycan dashed forward and grabbed Masahiro to pull up, seeing as he was just ready to collapse.

“What the FUCK are you doing? You’re in no shape to fight anymore, stand back and let me handle this. Is it him? Is it him you’re after?”

He felt Masahiro as much lighter than when he held him before, and grasped the reality that his comrade was now facing death if he moved forward any more. Blood spilled onto Abdullah onto his side, and he could see his head wobble. Lycan looked up to Hyena, his Sclera pulsing with red as the man stood there mockingly, enjoying the sight.

“FUCK OFF!”

Hyena’s rampant laughter came to an abrupt halt and an unnerving calmness overcame his demeanor.

“Oh, well since you’ve asked so nicely--”

Now that he was no longer convulsing, Hyena’s attention was finally drawn to the state of his prey.

“Hm? Hey! Masahiro! Are you even listening any more?” he mocked. “Just standing there with your mouth open is rude. Did no one teach you how to be an active listener?”

Masahiro slumped against Abdullah, straining to crane his neck up to where Hyena stood. His vision blurred and the different ghouls ahead blended together into a single maroon blob. As he drifted into an unconscious state, his thoughts drifted to that misguided boy.

Kazu, I'm sorry I couldn’t be better…

XXX 4th Ward - Bar "Greenlight"; 26th of April, 2019 - 20:15

Japan has always been known for its mellow Spring and this April evening was no exception. Though it was one or two degrees hotter than Jun would have preferred, the weather was almost ideal for a night out. If this wasn't the norm, one could call these circumstances opportune - just today Jun had a scheduled outing with his partner, Rank 2 Kagegami.

Drumming his fingers on the table, Jun rested his chin onto his right hand. He looked over the bar once more, searching for his coworker with intensity nearly approaching that of idleness. He couldn't tell if it was he that was early or her that was late - in his experience that sort of thing depended entirely on the dynamic between the people involved and he didn't have much in the way of dynamic with a squaddie he barely knew.

'There's a first for everything...' He thought to himself, leaning back against his chair. Maybe having some spare time wasn't that bad, after all. This bar looked like a nice place. The chairs were comfortable and the wooden table he was sitting at was well-made and pleasant to the touch. The milky electric lights of the establishment also gave off a peculiar feeling that Jun quite liked. If he hadn't come here to meet someone, he might've just pulled out his notepad. Unique atmospheres always inspired him to write.

'Might as well sample their drinks while I'm waiting.' He thought.

"Excuse me, waiter!" He shouted, his vibrant voice slightly louder than he had intended it to be. "I'd like a bottle of sake, please."

9th Ward ; 4th of May, 2019 - 11:45 PM

"Please!" The masked figure pleaded in a terrified manner, sitting on his knees while his hands were tied behind his back. There was nothing he could do but barely watch behind the suffocating cloth around his head. However, the very vague silhouette was more than enough to tell who took him away from his activity. The crazed batter.

"Just give me another week! I will give you anything you want! I promise! Please!" The begging had continued as tears started to gradually soak the victim's mask, unprepared for what was about to come for him as no second chances would be brought as per usual.

"... you are a lucky one, you know that?" The battering ghoul exclaimed, rotating his trusty steel bat around with his right arm. Sadao seemed to be feeling a bit more playful, noted from the wide grin forming on his face. "Usually sad sacks of shit such as yourself die lonely deaths, with nobody watching them at all as my gorgeous bat destrooooys their heads."

"You know how depressing it can be for them? For nobody to even see their corpse after I am done? Sometimes I eat them up as my dinner..." Sadao then glanced all around him, raising his arms in a manner similar to a shrug. "... maybe it will be a lucky day for a random fucker around here, starving to death. I am their benefactor at times after all."

"P-Please! I will not disappoint you!"

Sadao then simply let out a hearty laughter, as if he just heard a very fantastic joke all of the sudden. The ghoul then simply tapped his steel bat onto the ground multiple times, shaking his head with a wide smile still plastered on his face. The brutal batter knew something, and he was sure that it might prove fruitful.

"Alright then!" Sadao suddenly yelled out, almost in a smug manner as his eyes widened out of anticipation. It almost looked like Sadao was a ring-announcer for a carnival that was about to begin, exciting his audience. "I know you are here somewhere!"

"W-What?"

Sadao began to laugh a bit more but in a quieter manner, clearly enjoying what he was doing but he knew something was loitering around. "If you want to watch what is about to happen in its full glory, please! Come over here! I guarantee that it will be a... glorious slaughter in the making."

Sadao's smiled grew more sinister this time around, showing his teeth as he looked maliciously at his cowering victim. However, the batter simply waited until the unknown figure showed themselves. A spectator was rare, and he wasn't going to let this chance pass by.

Fury of the almighty, an unstoppable rage that cannot be vanquished. Failing the simple test of withstanding the whispers, the unfortunate souls succumb onto the darkest pits of anger that no living mortal should ever delve within. The whispers are seductive and comforting, no wonder the vulnerable souls fall for the deception God aimed to vanquish. The irony is that God had been involved within the said whispers’ own creation. God had created the dark spectrum of divinity, and all he did about it was testing the poor unknowing creatures unaware of anything better. They never had an answer. All what mortals had was faith.

A letter was held onto their hands. A letter filled with handwritten words. A very simple letter with structured paragraphs and meaning. A white paper with black text. It was just a very simple letter, but the way it was held showed that the owner of that exact paper perceived as something entirely different. In their eyes, it was more than a simple handwritten piece. Whatever that was held, was something much more than a simple and clean letter. The feeling was quite indescribable, mixed with positivity and negativity. There were no discernable terms that could properly explain what had been occurring within the conflicted one’s mind, as it was an outright battlefield all on its own. It was heavily clear that the contents of the letter left the current reader, more or less, in a state that cannot be determined in any capacity.

The non-human hand had been shaking profusely while gripping towards the innocent and unthreatening piece of paper. It almost seemed like the sheet was going to be utterly destroyed by simply having the individual’s metallic fingers puncture through it. In reality, that was something that would have saved the said individual’s energy and be done with it, especially that it was supposedly something they should have never agreed into doing in the first place. An eye for an eye, was it something that was simply owed doing? The answer was unknown and even if it was discernible, it would have likely been subjective. There was no logic to rely on for finding the real answer and even if there was, it was also unknown whether the answer would be wanted to be found in the first place. All questions have answers, even if they were nonsensical. Some questions, however, should remain unanswered.

The Lord had brought the darkest trial to his own subjects. The subjects always aimed to please The Lord no matter what, sacrificing their possessions and their pride to fulfill the needs and requirements of their worshipped being. There was no answer. The subjects continued even more, hoping for any difference. There was no answer. The whispers came in, which prompted the subjects to sacrifice defenseless creatures of peace. They laid the beating heart of the brave and exotic lion onto the altar of their beloved Lord. There was no answer.

The widened and blood-shot eyes kept analysing each and every letter painstakingly written onto the paper, and it wasn’t even the first time in which that had been done. It was almost considered a ritual of a mad monk. The unreasonable individual had been stuck in that routine once in every month passing one after another. It was almost a rhythm, with a stuck date that never faltered ever since it had begun. There was nothing that would stop the said individual from straying away from that established frequency. One would call it, a robotic prayer. A prayer should always bring resolution and comfort. Yet, this brought something that cannot be described. It shouldn’t have been needed to be described in the first place, as the experienced sensations were something no sane being should realise in the first place. The pattern was considered mechanical rather than what a man of proper faith would do. All of that robotic effort over a simple sheet of paper, treated as a blood diamond that cannot be thrown away. It was as if the owner was bound by some unknown force over it and it was a very cruel punishment.

The slightly mechanical soul suddenly got a foreign thought into their supposed logical mind. Whatever force that bounded them to such a miserable process didn't exist anymore. The paper could be torn very easily and the tortured prayer could be done with. There was no need to ow-

Suddenly, the individual promptly stood up from the edge of their bed, gently placing the letter onto it as if it was a vulnerable cub of nature. The living being then went onto the apartment's bathroom, standing right in front of the mirror's reflection. It was another process to undertake whenever an unfavorable thought came up. If it was truly non-heretical, nothing would come out of it and the human would simply go on about their business, concluding the robotic prayer.

This was different.

There was only one such lion within the natural world. The flowing white hair was one of a kind and yet, the mythical lion never bothered to struggle. It was as if it believed the subjects knew what they were doing if it was decided to vanquish its species. The lion could have lived on forever as a beautiful piece of evolving nature, but it had high respect to humans. The unfortunate truth was that it was in vain, and the subjects never knew what they were doing in the first place. It soon devolved into senseless bloodshed, pouring scarlet liquid onto the top of the altar. The blood of the non-believers. There was no answer.

The individual wasn't greeted with the same monotone reflection of themselves. It was almost considered as something that never popped up before. The sight triggered a visceral-like sensation that snapped within the innards of their mind. Slowly, the repulsed expression had been developed, scrutinising the abhorrence that was supposed to never appear again. It had been two and a half years ever since that incident had been made.

The eyes were redder than usual, almost being possessed by a dark force rather than something that could be reasonable by human standards. The scarlet arteries were popping up very prominently around the sclera. The irises were small enough, that they would be seen alien-like. The general appearance of the individual’s eyes were pretty maddening to behold, almost demon-like as it almost seemed like tears of blood would erupt at any moment. Fresh and deep wounds scattered all over their facial skin, gradually peeling off whatever was left only to remain with muscle tissues. It was dangerously getting near to having no skin at all without even the usual sensation of violently removing it all with the mechanical hands. A man or a monster. A simple distinction on what the confused individual was trying to make.

A man

or

A monster

A blood-curdling guttural scream was then let out, yelling at the horrific mirror for two seconds before slamming their whole head onto the abominable reflection. The impact was strong enough to cause severe cracks, scattering around the mirror with a tinge of blood right at the center. All that was left was the individual looking at the broken reflection, with cracks surrounding their normal reflection. It didn't matter whether they were a man. It didn't matter whether they were an abomination. They were broken regardless.

The inflicted part of the human's head wasn't something to be concerned with. A simple disinfection and wash would do just fine with no visible damage to foresee. There wouldn't be anyone to even see it anyway, as the individual worked in utmost mystery. Exiting the bathroom after the process, the individual was greeted with their valued utility, the helmet. Staring at it for a couple of seconds, a brief smile formed. It was the only thing that brought a sense of security.

That reminded them they it was time to begin the routine once again, working for the organization. However, that was a different than usual work that would be done for RIFT. The eliminator had only killed for all these years. Blood and death were no strangers. Regardless, enough time had passed for them to tackle something different after much communication.

It relied on mystery, and Kankin had been enveloped by it. It was time. The RIFT agent proceeded to dress themselves for work, albeit in a different manner. After all, the destination wasn't the headquarters.

Long time had passed. The village had been mostly deserted, with only extraordinary amount of blood and insects occupying it. The floors were filled with decomposing corpses that all shared one trait, the lack of beating hearts. The altar of dried blood only encompassed the hearts of the non-believers as more and more formed. However, there was one man, with a wide grin plastered on his face, shaking profusely. Suddenly, The Lord graced Earth and placed his feet onto the village, only to find a decomposed graveyard. Looking at the crazed individual, the divine being realised the horrific truth. They required an answer.

The room was departed from, as Kankin will request for mirror repair once they were back. The sheet of paper had been moved from the bed into a locked drawer. Meanwhile, a singular file of various papers was left on top of the drawer itself. The name that was plastered on the cover of the file was the following:

[KAWAGUCHI, SAYURI]

It was another night within the dangerous yet exhilarating district within Tokyo, one hell of a city to live in all things considered. One day, one would simply unwind and relax with no worries plaguing their mind. Another day, that same individual would be stuck in a fight or flight situation that could cost their own life in a snap. Unpredictability can be both satisfying to go through and terrifying to experience. Each day brought something new onto the table, making life less boring in the process.

CRUNCH

Life was a beautiful thing to ponder about from time to time. Who would one meet? What would happen? How would it happen? Why would it happen? So many questions circling within one's mind and no answer in sight until the said future situation occurs within the lifetime. Usually it would be a waste of time to think about future possibilities that might not even happen in the first place, but as some would say: 'Why not?'

CRUUNCH

The most important question to be asked at the moment was the following: 'Sadao, you fucking bastard, did you hit your head into something during this shit show?'

It was a very good question to be asked considering the circumstances that were experienced by the individual involved. The situation being obliterating a kidnapped human's whole skull into gravy-like state with a heavily bloodied but durable steel baseball bat. It would have been a lot more convenient to have just killed the poor bastard who crossed the bat-wielding ghoul normally then consume him. That was a different case though.

The human owed him something. Sadao hadn't gotten what he was supposedly owed. Sadao disliked it when he didn't get what he was owed. The outcome then was pretty obvious. The ghoul would kidnap his victim from anywhere and bring them to 9th Ward, toy with them a bit with banter until he got bored, then bash in their heads numerous times until it was impossible to possibly recognise the individual.

Sadao always held a satisfied grin when the skull was destroyed within a specific capacity. The grin gradually widened as he then looted the corpse, taking literally anything no matter how useless an item was. If Sadao didn't get what he wanted, he would simply take anything and everything the deceased victim held to during their unfortunate demise.

"Heh, at least your head popped quite nicely, you fucking pig." Sadao commented towards the corpse, staring at it while the puddle of blood kept expanding. The scarlet liquid kept oozing off the almost non-existent head on the alley's ground. Sadao stood there silently, gazing at the bleeding corpse while rotating his bat around, as if he was deciding what was the next course of action. After a couple of seconds though, he immediately lifted his skull-like helmet and spat on the body, shaking his head out of disgust. The bearded ghoul then lowered his helmet back to its original position.

"Anybody else around here can eat you. Your attitude really shut my appetite off." Sadao stated with a tinge of anger plaguing his voice, turning his back as he proceeded to walk away. It was time to unwind back into his home, as it was already troublesome to bring such an annoying victim onto the alley.

Life can be something. Sadao just hoped something worthwhile would happen sooner rather than later though. It had been getting too boring, and boredom wasn't something that can be beaten to death with the trusted bat.

That realisation annoyed Sadao even more, slamming his bat onto the alley's wall, leaving a small dent out of frustration. Sighing, the grizzled ghoul continued on, disappearing from the vicinity for the long and dark night.

10:30 PM - May 1st, 2019 ; The 1st Ward, CCG Branch Office

If there was one downside the CCG, it was work hours. Even the lowest rank Investigators often ended up working late into the night. And while it wasn’t as tiring as it’d been a few years ago, even the Quinx weren’t exempt to this. So naturally, it was an oddity for anyone to still be in the 1st Ward’s Branch Office at this hour.

A quiet click rang across the old concrete range, the fluorescent lights humming humming above as Alisa raised her quinine, pulling back on the steel string as a long, narrow ukaku shard formed. She took a deep breath, and when she was ready, released.

The sound of the shard firing off was hard yet frail. Like a block of glass being smashed into a wall as the crimson spike shot off, leaving a small trail behind as it impaled into the center of her target, lighting up the range as it did so.

A satisfying crack answered back as Alisa stared down the range. This was of course the other reason she didn’t come here earlier; she didn’t like having the usual Bureau Investigators using it to practice with their firearms. Distractions she didn’t appreciate. When it came to her spear she generally just practiced outside the Chateau, but practicing with a ranged weapon required an entirely different environment without risking damaging the house.

But no sooner had Alisa fired off her arrow than she heard the door creek open, instinctively adjusting her eyepatch back over her left eye. As much as she didn’t care for the more judgmental Investigators, hiding her kakugan still tended to help avoid conflict to begin with. Maybe it wasn’t even necessary, but it was a force of habit.

Without looking to her visitor, Alisa raised her quinque again, and pulled back another ukaku arrow, her eye fixated down the range.

20th Ward ; 24th of April, 2019 - 10:50 PM

It was once again one of those nights for the supposedly heroic ghoul, possessing certain arachnid hero’s mask which covered Shoko’s whole head with her long pony-tail protruding at the back. It wasn't colored the same as Shoko wore a grey-colored one and was made out of elastic. However, the spider ghoul covered her head even more with a hoodie all while wearing a non-sleeved compressed shirt underneath. Thankfully the hoodie hadn’t gone against Shoko’s supposed traversal method, which involved jumping from rooftop to rooftop by pulling herself towards the supposed directions with her silver-colored tendrils. Unfortunately the buildings were quite short to go along with the fictional hero’s tricks, so Shoko merely went with making movement easier for her stamina by just pulling herself with her kagune as if they were a slingshot.

So far it seemed like a very peaceful night. The number of moving vehicles has drastically decreased as not much would usually happen during Monday nights, and the amount of pedestrians were pretty low as well. Shoko was tempted to just head back and relax considering the emptiness of the ward was more prominent than usual but at the same time, this was almost a good opportunity to keep on going with her traversals, gradually increasing her stamina in the process. Besides, it was exhilarating to just run and pull herself around the rooftops, but she kept her excitement to herself as she didn’t want for neighbors to be disturbed by nonsensical yells of animation and energy.

It was a good thing that the spider-y ghoul decided to keep patrolling though, as an odd combination of scents went through her nostrils. Taking another sniff, Shoko re-confirmed for herself that there were a human and a ghoul in a nearby alley. Usually it wouldn't be too strange of a situation but considering the timing of the current patrol, Shoko wasn't about to take any chances.

“Classic, something just had to happen. Just my luck there.” Shoko playfully complained to herself with an exaggerated sigh, shrugging before increasing her pace to get closer. “At least it would make my night a bit more interesting… as long as nothing goes wrong though, of course!” The masked ghoul simply furthered her personal comment while pulling herself from rooftop to rooftop until she reached to one specific building with the perfect view from top towards the designated alley.

Shoko simply then crouched on the edge of the building, watching the situation unfolding in a potentially drastic manner. The scene consisted of a body on the floor, unsure if unconscious or dead just yet, and standing individual gazing at the said body. The patrolling ghoul was absolutely prepared to quickly subdue the suspicious individual before a small portion of mere skin would be bitten off, with two of Shoko’s silver tendrils slowly swaying around behind her own back.

A hero saves lives. Shoko was not about to endanger someone at all.

14th Ward- April 2019

Life had been fairly peaceful for Rai ever since the battle in Shibuya, it was jarring to see Aogiri become so dormant since his initial impression of them had been when the terrorist cell made a massive call to arms to all the ghouls of Tokyo. His merry band of “friends” had all left him to answer that call. He liked to tell himself that he didn’t care, he sought out an honest living and joined Colorless. A group actually bold enough to speak out against Aogiri and their madness, alongside them he fought crime and helped people. He made new friends who inspired him to do better. He kept telling himself his old crew wouldn’t have taken him anywhere, that they didn’t actually care about him. Whenever Rai sat down with people and they exchanged life stories, he always told them he let them go and happily turned his back on being an aimless hoodlum. He had to grow up sometime, someone loved to remind him of that back in the day.

Growing up hadn’t been easy, especially when you have to do so in an entirely different culture than your own. Rai learned the hard way that living as a part-time worker in Japan was heavily looked down upon, his attempts to interact with and befriend humans occasionally ended with them calling him a “lazy American.” Since going to school or seeking out full-time work simply didn’t interest him all that much. Keeping up with the rent of his humble little apartment had been manageable as long as he’d held onto a job, though he hadn’t been able to say that for the past two months.

His simple walk back to his apartment had been a frustrated one, the vigilante muttered profanities under his breath as the sun had began to set. The street was fairly quiet, he couldn’t help but spot a well off looking man. Potentially some successful salaryman or something. The redhead felt a fair amount of envy for the man who probably didn’t have an angry landlord harassing him for rent money, a man who’s financial status wasn’t considered laughable. A man who could definitely live without that expensive looking watch on his wrist.

"Thanks and I gotchu bro, no more stealin."

His temptations quickly reminded him of the simple promise he made to Abdul when they first met, he gave him a chance to change his ways and saw him as more than some hotheaded delinquent. Now here he was, nearly about to break his word. Pathetic. Rai groaned softly before walking off, hands in the pockets of his beloved hoodie. At least he didn’t need to wonder where his next meal was coming from.

5th Ward - April 26th, 2019

Tap tap tap… Tap tap tap… Tap tap tap...

Three fingers galloped across the metal impatiently, the smooth surface latent with scrapes, scratches, and burns. Each one a reminder of all that’s happened since her first day, since she was an Initiate. What a crazy year 2016 was, from the Gemini operation to joining Winters Squad and even through Shibuya. What a hell hole. But today was about a brand new Initiate, Kazimir Klein. A transfer from the German branch of the CCG if she had to guess. Though she wondered why someone so fresh would be deployed abroad. Perhaps she’d ask when he arrived for their task.

Today’s mission was a simple one, patrol the 5th Ward. Pretty routine, and being a Ward with heavy CCG influence over it, there shouldn’t be anything too exciting. No, today would be more about going over proper procedure than hunting down Ghouls. A small smile broke through her patient expression, thinking about just enjoying the rest of the day once they finish patrol, maybe even show the new guy a spot she goes to after work.

“Hmm… where is he?”

Knock Knock

Prompted by the sharp knocking on her door, Sachiko carefully balanced her toast plate on the arm of the couch before rising to her feat awkwardly, dusting the crumbs off of herself as she gazed quizzically at the apartment door.

She'd hardly expected to have any visitors today, least of all at 10am in the morning.

Tip-toeing across the room, she grabbed a hoodie from the back of the dining chair and swung it over her shoulders, covering up the sheer material of her nighty and making herself at least a little bit presentable, if still unkempt and unpolished.

"Who is it?" she let out sheepishly, padding her way up the hall to the door. She half expected to hear the response of a maintenance man, her to check on the pipes, or a neighbour who needed help operating the garage door.

But no.

"Who ISN'T it."

Her face soured considerably as she opened her front door for the jovial frame of her older, but shorter, brother.

"Kou why the hell are you at your sisters house at 10am in the morning on her day off, you know this is exactly why I moved out before you..." Sachiko let out, her arms folded across her chest as she gave him a withering look.

Kou grinned, scratching his head, "I couldn't pass through Tokyo without at least dropping by my little sister, ya know mum would never let me hear the end of it if I didn't check up on..."

CRASH

The two of them cringed suddenly as what sounded like a pot dropping on tiles came ringing from apartment next door, the sound of a lid spinning on its edges gradually trailing off to silence.

The moment interrupted, Kou continued, "So, as I was..."

The hinges squealed as the door to the apartment next door swung open, revealing a grey haired, sallow cheeked and tired eyed man in his mid-twenties. Dropping a bag of garbage beside his door, he looked up the hallway at Kou, giving him an empty, red-eyed stare before retreating back inside of his apartment without a peep.

Turning back to his sister, Kou gave his her an inquisitive look, "... Uh, is he alright?"

May 1st, 2019 - 11:42 AM ; The 20th Ward, :re Cafe

—

Tadashi didn’t keep up much with current events, honestly. Maybe he should have more, but he’d never really cared that much about the humans politics. As long as his country wasn’t being invaded or something as extreme as that, he tended to stick more to subjects he was experienced in, like ghoul politics. Real world events tended be either a lot more complicated than territorial or food disputes, or else scarily similar. The first day of Japan’s new era wasn’t particularly different. He only had a vague idea of what exactly it was about, he knew the Emperor had changed, but beyond that Japan didn’t seem very different. Really, he saw it more as an excuse to give the employees a day off. A cafe couldn’t afford to be open less than seven days a week if they wanted to keep being able to afford space to store corpses, so he preferred to find any chance he could to give them a break.

That left the cafe feeling surprisingly quiet for once. Tadashi adjusted his blue coat as he stepped out into the main room, the odd silence almost feeling more unnerving than peaceful. Tadashi adjusted his glasses, and let his eyes shut for a moment. Sure enough, all he heard was the faint sound of the breeze outside. No cups clinking, no sinks running, no constant murmuring of customers. A small grin formed, and he made his way for the door. As soon as he did however, he found himself glancing at something other than the handle.

“…Is she a customer?” he thought, watching someone cross the street towards the Cafe. The neighboring buildings were vacant, so she must’ve been coming for the cafe. The door opened with a small clink, and he stepped outside, leaning against the brick wall. “Yo, sorry we’re closed today” he greeted, giving a friendly smile to the visitor. “Unless you’re here for a job interview, I guess.” It was a guess, but likely not a far off one now that he thought about it. Most ghouls in the Ward had heard of :re. And considering how peaceful the Ward had been, he could easily see someone wanting to help continue that.

And, with a little luck, it would stay that way.

April 17th, 2019 - 1:32 AM ; The 20th Ward, Eastern Border

It’d rained for nearly week. And even when it ended, the streets had been damp and slippery for nearly two days. Or more specifically, and what one particularly girl cared about the most, the rooftops had remained slippery.

The rooftops were dry, the night was clear as could be, and the wind was just enough to cool her off in the warm night as her dark form darted from roof to roof. The silhouette of a short girl with a duffel bag much too large for herself dashed from roof to roof at a breakneck pace, yet with each leap she remained graceful and deliberate. Not a foot out of place, the wind slamming against her goggles, black crow mask shaking slightly with intensity. Until, finally, she skidded to a halt.

Sen could hardly recognize where she even was she’d ran away so quickly. It was a wonder the sack didn’t tear but, sure enough, the reliable black duffel was still in one piece. And finally, she let down her guard. Two jobs down, left to go. And she'd saved the hardest for last.

No matter how many times she did this, it never felt any less exhausting. Thrilling and enjoyable as well of course, but exhausting nonetheless. Sen’s hand was still shaking as it pulled up her hood. Was it always going to be this nerve-wracking? She really thought after the first year it’d wear off. Of course it wasn’t the fear of being caught that got to her. It was the fear of not getting the money.

“...This’ll last another few months, Dad. Guess I’ll have to find something else soon.”

Sen was quiet for a moment. And a good thing too. Otherwise, she would’ve never heard the sound of something latching onto the rooftop railing behind her. Sen spun around like a bullet, bending her knee and narrowing her eyes in an instant, nearly breaking the model handgun as she tore it out from her pocket, a quiet clink echoing out from it as she took aim, her stance still as a statue. But the moment a figure emerged, before even waiting for their reaction, she knew. She’d never seen a kagune used that way oddly enough, but if there was one thing Sen had in her advantage, it was reaction times.

The model gun lowered in under a second, her finger instinctively moving off of the trigger. “Another ghoul?” she asked, gripping the duffel tight.

Beneath the hood and mask, it was hard to tell much about her. She was a woman, that much was visible from her clothing, a long black skirt matching her hoodie, but facial features? Race? Age? Beyond being just a bit shorter than her accidental visitor, none of it was obvious. “Wait a minute.” Sen tilted her head, remembering her last few investigations into her neighbors workplace.

“You’re from :re, aren’t you?”

██ Ward - ██████ Warehouse ; ████ of ████, 2017 - ██████

That was unusual, the damaged eliminator affirmed to themself as they have been staring around the vicinity. Nothing was staying still, as if the environment was fighting against the assassin by shaking hazily. It wasn’t something Kankin had expected to happen at all, considering how everything had went wrong within the supposedly non-complex operation. Was there a mole within RIFT, the dazed agent wondered as they tried to push themself to escape the hot-zone, leaving behind countless number of disfigured corpses.

It was Kankin’s third operation for RIFT, and they were still getting used to what they recently gained from cooperating with the said organization. The eliminator simply was unsure whether it was the rustiness for spending a long time within RIFT’s cell or the new arms were something considered almost alien-like to the agent. The masked figure played with the possibility it might have been a mix of both scenarios, but the potential drawbacks at the time never mattered previously. It was particularly helpful that the assassin would be accompanied by a reliable RIFT mercenary known as Yurei. Kankin was still extremely formidable against most of the targets needed to be disposed off, both efficiently and savagely. Having another effective fighter involved with the supposed assignment would tremendously increase the chances of guaranteed success.

The operation was supposedly simple enough. Infiltrate the warehouse that contained a deal involving importation of GSA equipment within Tokyo, kill every single individual involved, and update the headquarters to come over for resources retrieval after the area has been fully cleared. Intel also provided the fact that the grunts involved with securing the illegal trading wielded Tsunagi quinques against any potential infiltrators that would interrupt the deal. It seemed to be way too simple though, considering how the criminals involved were nothing noteworthy and the security seemed to be more on the basic side. RIFT higher-ups had warned of potential foul play from any possible force not limited to a singular suspect, not dismissing the possibility of a potential mole or rogue force within their ranks rather than only a hypothetical CCG ambush.

It was simply unrealistic to have such an easy operation involving American anti-ghoul technology, but it still was an operation that had been approved to commence. The assigned RIFT agents have entered the designated vicinity, playing along in case the benefits proved to be legitimate. The security guards were extremely simple to dispatch, considering the lack of proper experience to fight a supposedly former ghoul investigator turned eliminator. The damages consisted of slit throats, dismembered limbs, decapitations, deep slashes, and more that would be considered as ‘indescribable biological damages’ according to experienced surgeons. Kankin wasted no time at all to continue along with the extermination of simple pests and bugs. Blood had been flying all around the vicinity, as if the executioner was playing with a bucket of scarlet red paint. The quantity of plasma liquid being splattered overall was practically impossible to establish, considering the mere rhythm and brutality Kankin had demonstrated while killing off each and every single individual they have gotten their hands on.

It was almost as if Kankin was performing a melodic dance, keeping up with the mental rhythm as the agonising yells of the hostile forces were considered as the theatrical chorus. The whole demonstration was practically a sight to behold with the brutality, savagery, and consistency. The last thing those pests would have seen was the sophisticated helmet Kankin in which they had been primarily dressed with and a battle-suit.

Despite how brutal her compatriot’s ordeal was, the other one RIFT had sent stood in stark contrast. Not a single word spoken, not so much a grunt escaped her lips as she seemingly carelessly strolled to the side, quinque gauntlets creaking a bit as she stretched her fingers underneath the white gloves. Her boots tapped against the ground rhythmically as she smiled below her mask; a small, white one that covered her eyes, three black slits per sides giving her a view, an ornate red pattern going along the edges.

She stopped in her path however as she glanced over at Kankin, eyes widening for a bit as she gave a slightly exaggerated gag, half heartedly pointing with her thumb. No sooner had she done so than the nearest clearly mistook it for an opening, as Junko just narrowly leaned under the oncoming diagonal slash from his Tsunagi. The sole of her boot pressed against the concrete as she took a step back, calmly watching the Tsunagi as she continued stepping back just barely out of it’s reach, crossing her arms behind her back as she did so. One Tsunagi came slicing down towards her shoulder as another pulled back, the second of the guards rushing her from the side. But still, perhaps even more unnervingly than when she was attacking normally, she just kept the same smile.

Junko leaned back, hands reaching up and pressing against the ground as she vaulted backwards, the toes of her boot slammed against the bottom of her opponent’s fist, a faint crack audible as the quinque flew out of his hands, skidding to the ground beside them as Junko wasted no time in lowering herself, dropping to the floor and delivering a sweeping kick, knocking both her first and second opponents off their feet. She almost looked a bit disappointed as she jumped to her feet, only to find the last opponent still hanging back, his weapon practically rattling as he shook. Junko’s boots tapped against the concrete as she menacingly paced over towards him. It wasn’t much of a surprise considering his demeanor, but she still widened her eyes a bit as he dropped his Tsunagi, sprinting away out of sight. Junko was so focused on her retreating opponent she nearly forgot what she was doing as she noticed a shadow covering her.

As the much larger man pulled back a slash behind her, she turned around just in time to see another, more familiar form suddenly appear beside him, a blood spurting out in the corner of Junko’s vision. She let out a quiet, bittersweet sigh as she resumed her own portion of the ordeal, finally clenching her fists as they impacted against against a Tsunagi, leaving nothing but an empty hilt rushing past Kankin’s back. And before the guard could even realize what had happened, his vision dark, the sight of Junko’s knee impacting against his face being the last thing he caught a glimpse of.

What was unknown to all parties, including the dealers themselves, was the fact that the supposed GSA technology wasn’t what it seemed, disguised as ticking time bombs that nobody had noticed at all until sudden fireworks were summoned within the building. The horrified and agonized screams were booming all throughout the warehouse, as limbs and organs kept flying around the hot-zone. Kankin attempted to avoid as many as possible but the assassin overestimated how competent the illegal traders were, as packages were simply spread around with no care at all. One of the bombs had just enough reach to explode and do a considerable but non-fatal damage towards the evasive assassin, destroying the left prosthetic arm during the said process. The explosion pushed Kankin enough to crash towards a wall heavily, causing stronger than needed disorientation for the unfortunate agent.

Usually, Kankin would attempt in being as calm as possible during their work performance, as a lack of proper concentration would prove detrimental towards potential success of any operation, but the lack of proper challenge along with such an unexpected and cowardy reaction against the assassin deeply affected them. Kankin was yearning for something to give them a proper relief but no target so far from previous two operations brought that sense of accomplishment. While Kankin had been disappointed by the low expectations that were set by RIFT higher-ups, they hadn’t paid much mind towards that factor. The issue was every single target had been proved to be utterly insignificant and inconsequential. Considering the current situation, this seemed like a setup created by a cowardy tactician to make things easier for themselves.

Underneath the slightly damaged helmet, Kankin’s face had been twitching violently. The breathing had been much more erratic than usual. The right metallic fist had been clenched as tightly as the technological structure had permitted it to but that didn’t matter, as Kankin somehow managed to bypass the limit and slightly scratched the palm’s palmar arch. It was more than clear that the assassin had no other desire than violently eradicate whoever caused the frustrating scenario.

However, with the helmet not functioning as well as it should have, along with Kankin’s own disorientation, the assassin had received an unexpected stab on the back by an individual. Taking in the attack, Kankin quietly played along and acted as if the damage was fatal, collapsing towards the ground on their back. Kankin then tried to take a proper observation towards their final hostile force.

“You know, I never liked you at all.” A male voice had been heard as Kankin managed to recognise the enemy, as the agent’s suspicion turned out to be correct. There was no mistaking the battle-suit itself as it was one of those which were widely distributed to other eliminators within the organization. “I never felt comfortable towards CCG scumbags suddenly turning into some sort of agent around here. It used to be us infiltrating that organization.”

“RIFT has given you all the tools and yet, you still haven’t proved yourself. It is worth doing all this effort so you can be here only to die painfully. To not be an inconsiderate bastard though, I will just report back that you were about to retrieve the only intact GSA resource but got caught in the explosion. At least you will be seen as someone who tried.” As the traitor had gotten closer towards Kankin, the incapacitated eliminator only had one thing playing within their head, not hearing whatever that was spewed out by the traitorous swine.

The inner mind of Kankin had been engulfed in hellish flames of rage. The whole scenario reminded them of something utterly unforgivable, causing stronger force of fury to rise within the vengeful creature. The covered eyes were stuck at the direction of the gigantic rat with a hidden gaze of utterly pure abhorrence, with nothing else to dissuade the assassin away from what was supposed to occur extremely soon. Kankin barely managed to keep their patience for the most opportune timing to strike back, having to hold back the agonising type of anger to run amok within both the brain and the whole body. All of that with pure silence, not even a peck of breath was heard coming out of Kankin during this whole process.

At the exact opportune timing as the agent was about to make the supposed killing blow, Kankin quickly sweeped off the agent’s legs in an unexpected manner, forcing him to crash on the floor. The assassin knew there was no time to waste and even if they hadn’t, the unfiltered rage was controlling Kankin instinctively to force them into quickening the pace and ending this disgusting creature. Pinning down the male agent, Kankin immediately attempted to get their right arm to slowly crush the agent’s neck but suddenly it was realised the arm had become dysfunctional, forcing the wrathful assassin to improvise savagely.

Kankin immediately proceeded to slam their whole head towards the agent’s face, heavily damaging the nose as the first sign of infliction. It wasn’t enough, as the assassin quickly retorted into slamming the helmet onto the traitor’s face once again, causing stronger amount of bleeding and fractures to be shown on his face. The shown damage still wasn’t satisfactory enough, since the traitorous agent was still breathing. Again, the head slamming had progressed with a stronger force, causing obvious effect on the man’s skull. The breathing had stopped and the eyes seemed as if they couldn’t even process potential visual information for the man’s brain. Blood was profusely oozing off every single sense organ and orifice located around the head, some continuously splashing all over Kankin in the process.

It was not enough at all. Kankin had needed utter and absolute obliteration. The steam engine of pure anarchy and fury was what fueled the demon-like eliminator into pushing themself onto pounding and mashing their opponent’s head onto absolute nothingness. While the assassin had been absolutely silent, furious howling of thousand blood-thirsty predators have been echoing all within the dreaded mind of Kankin. Nothing remained calm as their heart contained hellish vehemence that couldn’t drift away so easily. It needed to be sated immediately.

The vicious head slamming continued, with each crack and fracture being loudly heard throughout the vicinity thanks to every individual slam towards already annihilated skull. The same pattern simply increased its speed and force, visualising the higher amount of unadulterated rampage that Kankin kept demonstrating all throughout the utterly violent extermination. The disturbing sounds kept echoing through the zone within the warehouse as the whole face had almost turned mush with no discernable facial traits to be seen in any capacity. It had continued on for one more minute.

The indescribable obliteration had finally concluded, with the agent’s former face becoming absolutely indescribable if anyone had the misfortune to witness it in any capacity. There was a gigantic pool of blood that formed underneath his corpse while Kankin was splattered all around with the said scarlet liquid, especially the helmet. The traitor didn’t have any sort of sense organs to be seen at all with pulverised eye-sockets, mushed-off skin, and a wide open mouth with majority of the teeth practically destroyed. The whole skull was caved in while all of the remaining skin were drenched in bloody red.

The helmet’s visor had been damaged as Kankin’s eyes were uncovered, looking around at the collateral damage in which the explosives had made all around. Underneath the helmet, some of the assassin’s own blood was dripping throughout their face. A small portion of blood was revealed through the damaged visor, spread around the lifeless and almost bloodshot eyes of the assassin. There was no sign of GSA resources that could have not been a decoy and still be intact, so the operation as a whole was a waste of time.

Standing up slowly, Kankin hadn’t felt anything besides their absolute rage calming down. The helmeted assassin found their breathing process to be less erratic than previously, signaling the start of calmness.

The familiar tapping of boots against concrete echoed through the suddenly empty warehouse as Junko carelessly paced back over to her companion, tossing and catching an old Tsunagi in one hand, smile fading a bit when she noticed the damaged state of her companion. The barely functioning Tsunagi shattered as she tossed it aside, resting her hands on her hips as she leaned over a bit to look at what was left of the opponent. Clearly she was a bit unnerved, but at least not enough to complain. So far she hadn’t even said a word in Kankin’s presence.

Kankin had then noticed their cooperative battle partner’s return, in which the helmeted agent simply exclaimed the following with a stern gaze. “As you can tell, it was a setup. There is nothing to collect and…” The bloodied eliminator then took a quick gaze at the unrecognisable face of the corpse before looking again at Yurei. “... I handled the rest.” The assassin then simply began to walk away, expecting for Yurei to follow so they could fully depart the vicinity.

With a nod and a quick step Junko followed after her partner. However, her smile had faded. She gave more and more glances to the broken helmet. There was something familiar about it. Something she just couldn’t put her finger on. Still, she knew better than to ask about a co-workers strange habit when she had one of her own. One lacked a face, the other lacked a voice.

00:54 - April 24th, 2019

“The past few days have been rather odd. Since I’ve arrived in Japan about 4 days ago on transfer, I’ve felt rather awkward amongst the other people. I’m able to speak Japanese fluently, but it will still take time getting used to. I’m used to speaking with my fellow German citizens, but I’ll have to make do. From here on out, I will be writing my Journal entries (including this one as seen) in Hiragana to get used to speaking it more. I don’t know how to write in the other alphabets, and I hope I’m not judged on that account by my newfound peers. I haven’t gotten entirely settled into Tokyo yet, my apartment is in the--”

Kazimir was writing in his journal. He transferred fully to the Japanese branch of the CCG for reasons currently unknown. He knew he’d be questioned on this by his comrades at some point. The young soon-to-be investigator hadn’t thought entirely of a legitimate reason, yet something in the back of his mind drove him into wanting to do so. Presently, he was sitting at his desk in the small apartment he had. The desk had lots of miscellaneous items besides his journal, examples being a small and cute clock, some paperwork for unrelated affairs, a picture of a woman with dark red hair, and a glass of iced tap water that was currently leaving a ring on the surface of the desk due to lack of a coaster. Kazimir, however, was currently focused on remembering what ward he was in, as he had forgotten.

“Why is it that I can’t seem to remember ANYTHING about this sort of information?!” Kaz yelled, slamming his fist on the desk, some of the liquid in his glass splashing out and landing on his wrist. “I’m sick of this shit! It’s always fucking something!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, chucking his glass across the room. It hit the wall, shattering. This was followed up by him flipping his desk and throwing his journal across the room. This would no doubt cause a bit of ill feeling towards him by the other tenants. A faint “Keep it down, we’re trying to sleep!” Was heard by the wall between his room and the next over on his right. The young and clearly infuriated Kazimir growled, “Apologies, friend.” Kazimir said loudly enough for them to hear. He was suppressing his anger, it was something very hard for him to do.

It was currently 00:54, and Kazimir needed sleep. Tomorrow was the day he went to the CCG headquarters in the 1st Ward and met his peers who he’d be working with until he retired, transferred or-- well, he’d rather not think about that. He joined for someone special to him, he didn’t want to mess this up. However, he wanted to finish this journal entry to keep as a memory for the years to come. Kazimir, after calming down some, walked over to his window and opened it, looking for people out this late at night. He spotted someone and yelled down, “Hey, ma’am, what ward is this?” And looked as the woman turned her head up, she appeared to be an elderly woman around her late 60’s. He had no idea why someone like her would be out so late. Although very suspicious, he just concluded that it was none of his business. “The fourth ward, dear.” the woman said, giving him a sweet smile. “Thank you, madam.” He said, bowing. His bow was awkward and he did it incorrectly, having a fist to his chest, and his other arm tucked neatly behind his back. “Good night, and stay safe ma’am.” He said, to the lady’s response of a nod. Kasimir closed the window and backed away, sitting at his desk again.

“--Fourth Ward,” He continued writing for what seemed like hours.

Suddenly, black. He heard the birds chirping, and his room was illuminated by sunlight. On top of this, Kazimir’s glasses were next to falling off. Kazimir lifted his head up, straightening his glasses back on his nose. He rubbed his eyes for a moment, before looking at the clock. “8….12…” He mumbled under his breath. It was clear he had apparently passed out the night before. Kazimir suddenly yelled “Oh fuck! I'm going to be late!", and then fell out of his chair. He got back up, and unzipped his suit bag from the cleaners that had his light grey business suit in it. He quickly stripped out of his outfit, slid on his pants and adjusted the belt and buckle, slipped the white collared shirt on. Quickly, Kazimir opened a box full of novelty ties, beginning to toss them behind himself, looking for the right one. After some digging, he pulled out a tie that was colored like a pepperoni pizza, but then tossed it aside. He needed a nice tie so he looked professional on his first day. Suddenly, he found a dark blue tie, and tied it under his shirt's collar. Kazimir hastily ran over to a shelf where he was keeping his shoe stuff and pulled a pair of dress shoes and a shoehorn off the shelf, then gave them a quick brush and slipped them on.

Kazimir anxiously went into a dead sprint down the stairs, out of the apartment complex, and down the street. He ran to a taxi in the middle of the road and hopped in the back. “First ward, CCG Headquarters!” Kaz yelled, freaked out a little. Showing up late wouldn’t look good for him, especially during the start of his new career. It took a good chunk of the time he had to get there. During the drive there, he was anxiously tapping the ground with his foot, telling the driver to hurry. They arrived at around 8:28. Once he got out, he sprinted extremely fast, at around 20 kph. Kazimir burst through the front doors, catching his breath. He looked around, he was being eyed by lots of the personnel, receptionists and passing by investigators alike.

Kazimir walked up to the front desk while feeling like he was being stared at by everyone for making such a rushed and attention-grabbing entrance. “Hallo. I’m one of the new uh…..Initiates.” Kazimir said, catching his breath still. “....Am I late?” He asked, looking around at the other people clearly confused as to what was happening. Kazimir waved, stating “Sorry, don’t worry about me, I was just in a hurry. Apologies for the burden.” ...For around the 7th time since his stay begun, he had forgotten to bow. It had only happened before with the old lady because it had come to mind, not to mention he was more awake at the time. He knew first impressions were a big thing in jobs like this, so he was a tad bit worried, although he didn’t show it. This was the start of his new life, and he was prepared. Hopefully.

The woman met her partner’s gaze, her piercing eyes melting away in his beautiful brown. She smiled at him, running her fingers through his short hair. Her anticipation was all consuming, enveloping her every movement as just brushing against him sent quakes down her body. Her hands glided down his form, a touch gentle but precise. The soft moans from her partner let her know to press on, her fingers galloping over his chest. He was muscular and firm, built like someone who knew how to protect a woman. Someone who could protect her. He was everything she was waiting for.

“You wouldn’t believe how happy I was when we bumped into each other tonight.” Her voice was soft yet heavy, a feverish breathing behind every word. “I don’t want to embarass you but I know it’s your first time. It’s okay though, we’ll go nice and slow…” Her voice dialed down to whisper, as she buried her face in his neck. Sharp breaths escaped her partner as she gifted a love bite, another, and another. She hung onto the last one, a heated breath breaking against the man as she marked her territory. He was hers and hers alone.

She began working her way down, tracing over the curves of his shoulder. The noises he made as the woman made her way to his palm sent shivers through both of them, her long blond hair obscuring the utter rapture in her eyes. She began to tease his hand, poking at the tips of his fingers with her lips before capturing him with her legs firmly around his waist. With a satisfying pop, she took a finger into her mouth, the man breathing harder and harder while rocking against his partner. She began to salivate as he gave her the first taste of what’s to come, the woman barely able to contain her passion any longer.

Her body twitched in ecstasy with each rocking from the man, the next more intense than the last. It had been more than a month since someone made her feel this way, this pure pleasure was what she lived for. But she had been waiting for this one, the one to subdue her, fulfill her. She never thought he would be as good as he was.

Waves of his strength pulsed through her as he was coming to his end. Her face buried in his chest while the climax ravaged her senses. A splash of bright red pleasure staining the passion between them as the man’s body convulsed. Her fever filled climax brought on continual waves of red crashing against her partner, digging into the man’s chest while he finished. There was a look of deep satisfaction as the woman brought her gaze to meet the dull brown of partner’s, the pounding red orbs piercing through him.

The woman licked her lips clean of him, looking at the meal she had finished. Lying in a puddle of red, the body remained still. What was left was no longer a man, only but remains and a harrowing smile on the woman’s face from her satisfaction.

“I’d stick around baby, but you seem about finished. You were great for your first time though. ” She left her snack with a wink and a giggle.

???, 2015 - 1:00 PM ; ???, The 11th Ward

Rain pattered around the boy as flames crackled, bits of building collapsing alongside the street as the fire was crushed under drops of water. “…No matter how many criminals die, more will rise. This city is rotten to the core. The only way for it to be saved… is for it to be reset. For all those in Tokyo to abandon it, or be killed. The survivors will leave, and the vermin that infest it will be spread…”

As the kakuja’s voice boomed, his pitch black crab-like claws creaking, Tadashi forced himself to stand, his black hair hanging down in front of his vision, arms limp and battered. He was soaked with rain and blood, both his own and others, and the more he tried to stand the more he felt like he could collapse. “You are strong, child. But I am beyond strength.”

Tadashi’s red claw creaked out, but as he stepped forward he tripped, collapsing onto the pavement as his foot slamemd against a corpse. As he looked back at the head of curly blonde hair, and the similar white-haired corpse beside it, his eyes widened with fear, as more red-robed figures lay around him, all killed by varying injuries. Tadashi looked back, breath heavy and wild, and the kakujas voice boomed once more.

“Akira… you should’ve stayed in Kyoto, you naive Oni.”

The figure rushed him, and as Tadashi saw the black claw tearing towards him, his vision went blank.

…

Tadashi sat up in bed, his vision blurry as he took a deep breath. It’d been years since he had to fight a kakuja. Even longer since he’d fought that one in particular. But even still, the mind wasn’t as quick to forget as time was. Even if every reminder of his old life was long gone, those memories still came back to bite him whenever he least expected it. As he got up he felt more tired than when he’d even gone to bed. He glanced down at his hand, half expecting still see blood dripping from it, and clenched it tight as he stood.

April 15th, 2019 - 9:59 PM ; The 20th Ward, :re Cafe

“Ah! Hya!” Tadashi grunted as he slamming his kagune against the air, rushing forward and kicking off of the grey concrete, landing with a heavy slash that narrowly avoided tearing up the ground. As usual he had to give Moriko credit for her choice of setting for :re, just like Anteiku it came equipped with a similar basement, the same tunnels branching out from it incase an escape proved necessary. Though in this case, it of course didn’t follow the exact same patterns. The amount of survivors from Anteiku was a surprise to all, but the same trick wouldn’t work twice. It’d been a long time since he last practiced, too long.

Tadashi’s red claw creaked as he swung it again, stopping it suddenly each other downward slash, not allowing it to hit the ground. It took all the strength he had not to let it break apart the floor, but that was part of what made it good practice. His white, long sleeved t-shirt blew a bit back from the gust of wind with each heavy slam, his white hair ruffling, until finally he finished off his series of strikes. Tadashi suddenly lunged forward, pulling back his claw, tearing forward with a heavy stab. But as he did, something flashed before his eyes. A pair of green eyes and a flash of sanguine, his chest feeling heavy and breathing stopping for a moment, feeling lightheaded.

He tried to pull back on his slash, but just ended up toppling over, landing on his back as the claw retracted back in.

After a brief moment to breathe Tadashi sat back up. It was easy to think that memories were all mental, but he knew better than anyone how reminding himself of the wrong thing at the wrong time could mean death.

“…That’s enough of that for today” Tadashi silently thought, standing back up and adjusting his stance. His leg still hadn’t fully recovered from his fight with Maki all those years ago. But even still, maybe that was all the more reason to try to practice with it.

With a swift, heavy kick, his injured leg slammed forward. Again and again he kicked, each time forcing his mind to think of nothing but the movement. Not the soreness he almost immediately started to feel, and not the last time he’d had to use these sorts of things. Instead Tadashi just remained in the basement, practicing for a fight that he really did hope would never come.

20th Ward - :re ; 17th of April, 2019 - 8:30 PM

Shoko was frustrated over two things at the particular moment: It was her turn to be the one to clean up the general utensils of the cafe after so long, and to miss out going to a book-store so she could get the single issues of titles the ghoul was interested in for the day. The waitress had worked for long hours once again, mostly because she wanted to be productive, while not realising that it was a Wednesday to give her a chance to end the shift at a better time. If there was one thing Shoko prefered to do, was to be able to make productive actions whenever possible, but that was one of those days in which she wished she didn’t think that way.

“Off all of the weeks, it had to be this one? Gideon Falls and Spider-Man Life Story were today…” Shoko mused to herself in a disappointing tone while washing and scrubbing a spoon in the sink, cursing herself internally. “... there was even a Daredevil issue too. Shoko, why are you a forgetful clutz at times?” The waitress once again talked against herself, as if she was interrogating a criminal of sorts while simply cleaning objects. That was an odd mental image, Shoko proceeded to think after she realised that she used that analogy.

Shoko continued to focus on cleaning rest of the used items, humming to herself a familiar theme of a certain arachnid super-hero, because she had nothing better in mind to hum out instead even though it would have been the best. The ghoul then proceeded to curse once more for not bringing her phone and headphones from her room to help pass time and properly get in tune with proper music while the cafe was closed. Music always had helped with general chores, so it would have been an appreciated tool to use for this as well while there weren’t any customers around.

Proceeding to remove that thought though, Shoko fully immersed herself with the humming while cleaning, almost finishing up with her duties before she could head back to her room and relax.

Alisa had always wondered if ghouls preferred the rainy seasons.

The date was April 10th, and they were only just beginning to enter the rainiest months of the year, at least in Tokyo. While she’d always liked the sound of rain herself, it was no secret that rain did a good job of screwing up any evidence it caught up, and in turn making the jobs of the Ghoul Investigators of the city that much more difficult.

Alisa wasn’t exactly the type to get up early, but as the clock struck 7 AM she was already adjusting her tie and pulling on her socks, the pattering of light rain against the windows slowly grounding her to the waking world, eyes still half awake.

Her uniform was obsessively well cleaned and pressed, not so much as a stray hair or a speck of dust harming it, while her hair and expression was the polar opposite; messy and tired. Her green hair was let out in a messy, shoulder length cut, her blue eyes half closed with dark circles under them. But reluctantly, she stretched her arms, and stepped out of the room. The Chataeu was still pitch black save for the grey light leaking into through the windows, the halls dead quiet. It was a day off for most of them, but Alisa and one other in particular weren’t so lucky.

Alisa made her way down the hall, waking up a bit with each step, before finally ariving at her destination. She glanced down at the folder she’d brought along under her arm, and knocked on the door a few times.

“Are you ready Shouta? We’ve got an Investigation to start on.” Her voice was just a bit less deadpan than usual. Slowly but surely she’d adjusted to the others and, while she constant calmness could be easily mistaken for unhappiness at times, she really had grown to appreciate her new life with the others.

She knocked once more, awaiting a response. “We’ll be investigating the 14th Ward’s Lycan.”

3rd Ward - RIFT Tokyo Bureau, Underground Level ; 16th of April, 2019 - 11:00 AM

Blam

The most familiar sound had been heard throughout the sparring area. While it wasn't a peaceful tune yet it was an appreciated one. In a way, it was almost therapeutic as it was something that was experienced the most, not feeling like anything would deviate it one way or another.

BLAM

It had became louder, noting the increased strength into producing that particular sound. Usually, it would correlate to violence which would cause a sense of fear and anxiety within the average person. The possibility of being in a conflict could activate the sense of fight or flight, increasing the adrenaline of the person to respond to whatever situation that had arisen. Flight was the safest pick, even though it would not be guaranteed to succeed. Fight was the riskier alternative, posing danger by exerting force and violence.

Fight was the most rewarding option, bringing that sense of exhilaration and satisfaction to the beast that hungers within the deepest innards of one's mind. The tension and infliction could be one's best friends within such circumstances, especially for someone whom lived through the life of violence and brutality.

BLAM

Kankin had been pummeling on a punching bag, bringing a change of pace from the usual sword-wielding routines. After re-calibrating their metallic black mechanical arms thanks to the science wing, the helmeted figure needed to involve themself into any sort of physical activity to exert whatever that had been burning within.

Inflicting another punch, Kankin gradually felt the inner flame burning still, begging for more to be satisfied. The inner sense of sweet fury that demanded to be let out. It wasn't the proper time though, it had to wait until the next assignment. Until then, Kankin continued on with such a simple exercising session.

It was a strange feeling, but not one she could describe very well.

She took a secretive sniff, but there was absolutely no scent coming from her hair. It might not matter to a human, but to a ghoul suddenly not being able to smell their own scent was disorienting to say the least. The purple wig didn’t smell particularly fake or anything, infact a normal ghoul might not notice. But for someone with a sense of smell as good as Charlotte, it was confusing. So was wearing such different clothes than usual. Her usual gothic attire had been temporarily traded for a much more normal white sweater, with a long skirt the color of which would’ve perfectly matched her cream-colored hair under the wig. She’d put in a good bit of work to getting her disguise to be convincing; her mind drifting to the fake identity in her pocket, the name ‘Suzuki, Haruna’ written on it. It’d been a long time since she used her maiden name, but she saw it best not to risk bringing any unneeded attention back to Zanzibar.

Haruna was no stranger to writing obviously. But fiction writing was something she was in fact a relative newcomer to. But even so, her first attempt at writing a horror novel had gone surprisingly well. Of course it was largely based around real stories of actual ghoul’s she’d written about, with the first being about Kichirou himself with the names changed to avoid the CCG catching on, but that was by no means her only expedition into fiction. In fact one of her more original stories had even been recently adapted by an inexperienced mangaka who’d been a fan of her work.

That was to no way imply that she was some S-tier famous novelist of course. But she had a degree of success that was be expected with someone who wrote as obsessively as she did. And in the end, it was still largely for her own entertainment and satisfaction.

And yet, here Haruna was in the most underwhelming part of the job. In a small bookstore in the far east corner of Chiyoda, already a comparatively low populated Ward (no doubt thanks to the close presence of Cochlea driving away potential residents), sitting at a desk waiting for someone to walk up. She’d been offered to do a book signing there, but considering her own very much average success with her published stories and the Ward’s low population, only a handful had turned up in the past five hours.

Insulted? Not at all. Haruna wasn’t bothered in the slightest amount by the amount of visitors, she was happy with just one. It was probably more visitors than an out of the way place like this usually got anyway. If anything it was more for the stores success than her own. Bored, on the other hand? Absolutely. Here she was with an hour left to go, as agreed on with the owner who’d invited her, wasting away for hours while all she could do was sit around and occasionally look at the nearby books without straying too far should someone show up. She could’ve been stalking someone, spending time with Kichirou, making plans for the 9th Ward, picking fights with Doves, pretty much anything at all would’ve been preferable. Haruna, to say the very least, was feeling fed up with waiting.

Until, to her surprise, she caught a whiff of something familiar. “Hm?” she muttered, perking her head up, adjusting a purple hair and glancing around. Stepping out from what she recalled being the row for comics was a very surprisingly familiar sight. She never forgot a customer after all, and she wasn’t about to start soon.

“Isamu-san? Is that you?” she asked, sitting up straight.

Night of October 22nd, 2016

Wind battered the rooftop as the engine of the helicopter roared to life. Ducking sharply as a bladed tendril shot past him, a panicked ghoul scrambled towards the escape vehicle, cradling a large professional-looking video camera all the while.

“Get your ass inside!” the pilot ordered as he began flipping several switches and controls within the cockpit. “We got a schedule to keep!”

“Damnit, where’s our back-up?” Unexpectedly, the co-pilot hastily exited the vehicle, drawing out his kagune in the process. “Get it off the ground, we can’t miss our window!”

With a burst of speed, he ran to meet their cameraman. Leaping over the ghoul, the robed terrorist threw his bikaku ahead of him, aiming to pierce the pesky girl giving chase. The investigator, far too focused on her target, noticed the incoming strike too late, merely raising her arms in defense as she skid to a halt. Before the attack could land however, a hail of RC shards knocked the attacker out of the air.

Squad Leader!

Nodding to her superior, the Quinx diverted her attention back to the escaping ghoul. The diversion had unfortunately bought him enough time; just as he threw himself into the back of the helicopter, the engine roar grew, lifting it off the rooftop.

Steeling herself, Hisae broke off into a mad dash once more. Ten feet, fifteen feet, twenty feet….the helicopter’s liftoff was deliberate, but growing quicker every second. Like a gymnast on springboard, she vaulted over a vent onto a rooftop A/C unit before launching into the air. In unison with her arm, her rinkaku tentacles reached ahead of her -- and caught nothing but empty air. From within the helicopter, the ghouls smiled back at her in satisfaction as they made their escape into the night sky. Slamming into the ground without the dignity with which she’d left it, the young investigator’s body shook as she cried out in frustration.