name's nagachika

Akira sat down in her cold office, while a towering pile of documents stared menacingly at her from her desk. She looked away, ignoring them as she had been doing for several days now. There were pages and pages of investigations into the Owl and Rue Island—all information gathered by others, the result of the work of other investigators who, until a few months earlier, had been under her command. And now Akira was confined to her office, reading other people’s reports and waiting for instructions, hoping that someone higher up would finally remember her and give her a proper role.

She sighed, longing for one of the hot coffees Hide used to bring her, but he hadn’t dropped by her office in a few weeks, always with Sayu or plotting something with Marude.

Suddenly, as if some higher power had read her mind, the door opened, and Hide’s smiling face peeked out from behind it.

“I haven’t forgotten about our morning coffees,” he said immediately as he stepped inside. Akira tried to keep a pout on her face, but inside she felt warmed by his presence.

“I hope so. I was almost starting to worry,” she joked, reaching for the cup and weighing it in her hands, as if unsure what to do.

“Aren’t you afraid it might collapse?” Hide laughed, pointing at the stack of documents and sitting down across from her. Akira shrugged. “If it flew out the window, I’d be happy.” He didn’t answer, thrown off by that harsh tone, and neither of them said a word for what felt like an eternity. Akira looked around, as if searching for something—a difference, an object that had been moved. After all, everything had changed in recent months: the Quinx were no longer hers, the Mado Squad was just a name from the past, and the hopes her superiors had always placed in her were now vested in someone else. Even Hide had changed.

She turned toward him, eyes ablaze: he couldn’t change; he couldn’t turn his back on her. Not her Hide. Her teammate, the one she had always followed. They’d fought side by side, investigated by merging their minds. She’d called his name in the darkness, heard the scent of his blood, seen his raw flesh. She’d been there day and night; she’d watched him come back to life.

He couldn’t abandon her.

“What’s going on?” Akira blurted out so heatedly that he jumped in his chair.

“What do you mean?”

She looked around, as if searching for the right words. “I see you’re always with Marude or Sayu, whispering about something or wandering around Cochlea. I want to know what’s going on, what you’ve figured out.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “I’ve always been on your side. I deserve to know.”

Hide broke into a warm smile. “I didn’t keep you in the dark to hurt you, but to protect you.” He pulled up a chair. “I think the CCG is hiding too many things from us.” And he began to tell her, starting with his suspicions during the auction, the Rose operation, and all those investigations that had gone far too smoothly. He spoke of his suspicions regarding Shirazu’s body – how no one was trying to recover it, leaving it to be violated, cut open to be studied. He told her about Sayu’s meeting with Sen Takatsuki, that writer who seemed to know far too much. He spoke of almost everything, from his hypotheses to his visits to Hinami, who was growing ever sadder, right through to the latest theories they’d fantasised about together with Sayu and Marude. The only person he didn’t mention was Amon, even though deep down he knew that Akira was eager to hear that name again, to be able to speak of him in the present tense once more. But Hide would keep his promise at any cost.

Akira remained silent, absorbing every word, connecting all those dots – at first a chaotic, meaningless jumble, but one that was gradually taking shape. Neither of them said a word for a long time, whilst the coffee had long since turned to a cold sludge in the damp paper cups.

Hide was certain that Akira’s mind was a whirlwind of questions, but she, solemn and elegant, looked up and asked just one, simple question.

“What should we do?”

Hide straightened his shoulders, preparing the answer he’d known for months now. The key to everything. The spark that had set it all in motion.

“You won’t like this,” he sighed, “but we need Ken Kaneki. The real one.”

Hide quickened his pace, as if invigorated by the fresh spring air, keeping his gaze fixed on the soft lights of the Re, just a few steps away from him. It had been a long time since he’d seen Touka, and now he was in desperate need of her advice – of speaking to someone who knew everything. He was about to open the door when a furtive movement made him glance towards the side exit. Before he could say a word, he heard the door open and felt a hand pull him inside.

“Touka!” he greeted her cheerfully, but she didn’t return the greeting, offering a weary look instead. “That was Tsukiyama, wasn’t it? He was heading out the back.”

“Yes,” she replied, glancing warily around the empty room, occupied only by Yomo, standing in the background. “We saved him.” Hide let out a sigh of relief: for months he’d heard nothing of Tsukiyama, fearing he’d been swept up in the bloodbath of Operation Rosenwald, and now here he was, alive and safe amongst friends.

“You can’t come here anymore.” Touka’s icy voice snapped him out of those reassuring thoughts. “What?” Hide stepped back almost instinctively, but she moved closer.

“The CCG is getting stronger and stronger, and we know Haise isn’t the same anymore. It won’t be long before the Doves find out who we are. Besides, Aogiri is plotting something—I don’t know what—and soon all the ghouls will be involved. Not to mention Hin—” A cough from Yomo cut her off and she blushed, realising she’d said too much.

“If they find out you know me, that you come here, they’ll ask questions,” she finally concluded.

“I won’t say a word. You’re an old friend I haven’t seen for years who’s opened a bar.”

“They’ll never believe it!” she blurted out. “They’ll torture you just to get a confession.”

“They can tear me to pieces; I won’t say a word. You know you can trust me.” She rolled her eyes and placed her hands on his shoulders, exhausted. “Hide,” she said firmly. “I know I can trust you. But I can’t let you suffer any more to protect us. You’ve already done so much for us.”

He didn’t know what to say, instantly warmed by those words. The kindness he’d shown Touka, Yomo, and the whole ghoul world that had taken Kaneki in over the years was now coming back to him. They wanted to protect him, even if it meant giving up an advantage, going against everything they’d always believed in.

“All right,” he finally conceded. “I won’t come. But it’s not over yet. Whatever the CCG and Aogiri are planning, we’ll be ready.”

She didn’t reply, but rushed over and hugged him tightly.

Hide walked out, forcing himself not to look back and glancing absently at the many posters lining the street, almost all of them bearing the alluring face of Sen Takatsuki and slogans about the imminent release of her new masterpiece.

Hide stared for a long time at those feline eyes watching him from the printed paper.

Sayu looked at the small pile of books on her desk, all marked with the name Sen Takatsuki. Every single ink-stained page written by that strange girl who seemed to know far too much. Pages which, Sayu was certain, concealed far more than tragic tales. She reached out for one of them when the door burst open.

“I was just…” She looked up to find Hide standing before her—or rather, his ghost: he was pale and sweaty, breathing heavily, and staring at her in terror.

Hide had the impression of hearing a door and a voice in the distance, but he didn’t know where he was. He knew only that he was running away and that with every step he felt sicker, everything turning darker. He didn’t know if he could still breathe, if he was still alive. He felt his knees hit the ground, his hands clinging to something.

“Kaneki!” he heard himself scream into the void, frantically searching for a sign in the darkness, a movement that would tell him he was still alive. And he saw him emerge from the darkness, limping towards him, covered in blood.

“It’s all right, I want to help you,” he kept repeating, his voice drowned out by the roar of the sewer below. “I know you’re a ghoul, it’s all right.” He managed to take a breath and was choked by the stench of sulphur and mould in that tunnel. Kaneki stood there staring at him, motionless, his expression blank.

“I want to help you,” Hide repeated. “You have to live.”

Suddenly, a burning sensation tingled on his fingers and ran up his left arm, growing ever stronger and more painful. Hide immediately grabbed that part, that side of his body that had betrayed him, that hadn’t been strong enough to save the only person to who he would give everything.

“Eat me. Do it. Save yourself,” Hide repeated frantically, desperately trying to tear off that phantom arm, that painful memory attached to his body.

“Hide!” a voice finally spoke, and a hand gripped his, firm and resolute.

“You’re not in that tunnel,” the voice said again, clear and firm.

“W-what?” Hide stammered.

“You got out of there. You saved Kaneki,” it repeated, and with every word the voice grew clearer. The darkness faded little by little, and even the stench of the sewers seemed to have vanished. Kaneki’s face transformed, and in its place appeared Sayu’s, staring at him with worried but steady eyes.

“You’re at the CCG. You’re in my office.” Hide didn’t reply, letting her repeat those reassuring words, never loosening her grip on his arm. He began to breathe slowly again, inhaling deeply every scent, the faint fragrance of that room.

He leaned his head back, resting it on the soft cushion of one of the armchairs.

“What happened?” whispered Sayu, still holding his arm. He swallowed several times before answering. “Kaneki. I tried talking to him again, but it’s as if he’s vanished. As if I can’t find him anymore.” He looked up at her. “I always find him.”

Sayu didn’t reply, remaining seated on the floor in front of him and, for the first time in a long while, she didn’t know what to say.

A few months later

It wasn’t the first time Marude had had doubts about the CCG. He’d never been a blind follower of the investigators, right from the start, from his very first kill. Or when he’d first witnessed Kureo Mado’s cruel methods, only to then have to deal with his daughter. But the one who made him doubt the most was the man missing from that meeting. Kisho Arima, once his subordinate who in just a few years had become the CCG’s saint, praised by everyone. Everyone, except him.

“At last, our battle against Aogiri is drawing to a close. A thirteen-year battle that began with the clash against the One-Eyed Owl,” declared Matsuri Washuu solemnly from the head of the table, and Marude let out a snort. “And yet the most important figure is not here.” No one noticed, and attention turned to Sasaki, who was explaining in detail the developments in the fight against Aogiri.

They’d trained him well, Marude thought as he watched that perfect little soldier. Precise, clear, unfazed by attacks and provocations, as he laid out each target. A far cry from his ghoul form, from the fury and violence that everyone in the room had witnessed. Suddenly, the image of Hide in Akira’s arms, almost lifeless, a victim of Sasaki, came back to him. He felt a punch to the heart as he thought back to the nights spent in hospital, the hours by his bedside.

I’m here, son. You’ll be fine.

They should have given him a medal, made him a special class, yet here he was, relegated to the darkness of a laboratory, whilst his tormentor became the new Arima. The new saint.

“As for the One-Eyed King, my colleague is already dealing with a suspect. However, we have reason to believe that their main hideout is on Rue Island, where a team will be sent to search…” Haise was continuing, but Marude had already stopped listening, thinking of Furuta: a stranger, a nobody who had miraculously survived against the Rosenwalds and was now part of the CCG’s biggest operation. Why was he there? Why not Hide himself, the most brilliant, or Akira, who had lost her own mother to the Owl?

His shoulders began to ache, as if all those doubts, growing ever stronger, were starting to weigh him down. He felt his back arch and forced himself to pay attention when someone called out to him.

“Marude.” Haisaki, the director of Cochlea, boomed in his deep voice. “Keep an eye on your boy.

“Pardon?”

The other man smirked. “Nagachika. He does nothing but hang around Cochlea with that shrink. I’ll admit she’s a fine sight, but they’re always in the way. They’re constantly going to Fueguchi’s and babbling about books and research on ghouls.”

Marude found it hard not to let a satisfied smile slip. It was definitely his boy, who so far had never made him doubt it. Who rebelled against the saints and dogmas of the CCG, who managed to see beyond the thickening smoke veil.

“I’ll try to talk to him. But Nagachika doesn’t like rules.” He fixed his gaze straight on Haise, and he seemed to get the message.

It was a threat.

Sayu took a deep breath before stepping through the luxurious door of the elegant café that Shiono had pointed out to her a few hours earlier. A tall, slender waiter appeared before her, ready to show her to her table.

“Miss Takatsuki is waiting for me,” she said, hoping to sound confident and decisive, whilst inside her mind too many thoughts were tangled up in a whirlwind: the day before, Hide had launched into a description of Takatsuki's works, all filled with dark storylines and tragic protagonists, and how they were Kaneki’s favourites. She was almost tempted to bring him along, but this meeting was meant to be just for the two of them. Takatsuki wanted her opinion, her work.

The waiter stopped in front of a small, secluded table, lit by the large windows in front of it, and Sayu sat down, smiling politely at the woman in front of her. She was a petite figure and was staring at her with a feline gaze from behind a pair of large, round glasses.

“Good morning,” she chirped enthusiastically, waving to one of the waiters. “Before we begin, let me offer you something. They make a delicious cream cake here, and I’m sure you’ll want some coffee.” Sayu didn’t reply, letting her order for both of them, and after a few moments, breakfast was set before her.

“Miss Takatsuki,” she began, observing her as she enjoyed her cake with relish. “I must admit your call surprised me. It’s not often I meet writers, let alone receive requests about my old article…” Takatsuki smiled beneath a streak of cream. “Yes! I have to tell you, I loved that paper. It’s unbelievable that you managed to write something so controversial.”

“That’s the point.” Sayu moved closer. “They didn’t let me finish it. The piece was never completed and I couldn’t publish a thing. So how did it end up in your hands?” Takatsuki finished the last bite of cake and gently wiped her face, her attitude changing.

“Right,” she said, in a much lower voice than before. ‘‘You get straight to the point.’’ She reached for a black tote bag hanging from the chair and pulled out a bundle of papers. “I have many contacts around the world.’’ She placed the documents on the table and for a few seconds Sayu forgot to breathe: it was the first time she’d seen those pages outside her bedroom or her office, the first time someone had shown them to her rather than the other way round. She reached out a hand, touching the paper as if it were an alien object, reading the words she knew by heart.

“I understand why the publication was stopped,’’ Takatsuki continued. “It was going to reveal to the world that ghouls and humans are the same. Unacceptable to the CCG.’’

“Our brains are the same. Some might say our souls are too, but I don’t consider myself that spiritual. The point is, everything we hear about ghouls is about their thirst for blood and how they’re emotionless monsters. Yet their bodies reveal something quite different.” She opened one of the pages, pointing to one of the many colourful images of brains. “Not only do they feel emotions in the same way, but in some cases they experience them even more intensely than humans.” Takatsuki remained silent for several moments, a smug smile spreading across her face. “It looks like you want to end the CCG.” Sayu smiled, choosing her words carefully.

“I’d like to end all these deaths,” she said bluntly, so coldly that it took the other woman by surprise. “Of course,” Takatsuki lowered her voice, “I imagine working with the investigators isn’t easy, with all the demons they carry inside them. Some of them even end up possessed.”

Sayu bit her tongue, considering her next move. She had ended up in a strange game, the rules of which she was still trying to figure out.

“Why so much interest?” she immediately deflected the subject and, for a moment, she could have sworn Takatsuki was disappointed.

“I want to aim high with my next novel: the protagonist is a ghoul who rebels against the society that oppresses him. What do you think?”

“It sounds like you want to end the CCG,” commented Sayu, and the other woman laughed heartily.

“It’s a brilliant plan! But that’s a task I’ll leave to you. Perhaps there’s another article in the making…”

Sayu was starting to get tired of these games. “At the moment, I’d rather work to help my patients. Anyway, it’s getting late.” Takatsuki was taken aback for a few seconds, studying her like prey, and finally smiled. “Of course. Your information has been very useful, thank you.”

Sayu stood up cautiously, holding out a hand, which the other woman shook. “I expect a copy of the book.”

‘‘Of course! You’ll be the first to have it.”

Eto sat back down, watching Sayu walk away with a light step, and smiled. At the right moment, she would be perfect.

Hide walked heavily across the CCG courtyard, heading towards a figure dressed in black a few metres away. He had spent the last half-hour watching Haise from a distance as he talked with Furuta in the shade of the large trees surrounding them, but only now had he decided to walk over. It wasn’t the first time he’d tried to have a conversation with him, but they’d only ever exchanged a few hollow greetings. Yet, just a month ago, he’d been sitting opposite Haise, eye to eye, hand in hand, reminding him of the good in him. Just when they were close again, just as he was about to have his friend back, Kaneki was snatched away from him once more, ripped from his arms as if it were nothing.

Hide wasn’t having it, not anymore.

“Haise!” he greeted him cheerfully, receiving an icy stare from Furuta. “It’s been ages!”

Haise adjusted his glasses on his nose and offered a polite smile. “Yeah. I’ve been really busy with the Owl case.” Hide faked a little too much enthusiasm. “Oh, of course, you’re the CCG’s top dog now. How’s the investigation going?” Before Haise could reply, Furuta cleared his throat nervously. “Erm, we shouldn’t be revealing sensitive information about the case.” Hide didn’t even look at him, keeping his gaze fixed on Haise. “Oh, don’t worry. Haise and I have worked together before; he knows he can count on me.” He smiled again, but this time Haise didn’t return it.

“Furuta’s right,” he said coldly, without even looking him in the face. “And anyway, you’re not a detective now. It would be best if everyone stuck to their own work, Nagachika, without meddling in other people’s investigations.”

Hide felt his breath catch in his throat, stabbed by those icy words, unable to reply. He didn’t even notice that the two were walking away, and his legs moved of their own accord, walking faster and faster, with no real destination in mind.

Sayu gently handed the box of tissues to Saiko, who immediately grabbed one and wiped her tears soaked face. It was a ritual that had repeated itself every day for over a month, ever since the day Shirazu died. A month in which Saiko had become a constant presence in her studio, weighed down by grief, fear and confusion after fate had pulled the rug out from under her feet. Sayu was always there, with the tissues on hand, ready to welcome every emotion, thought and fear. “I miss him so much,” Saiko sobbed, burying her face in the crumpled tissue. “I know,” whispered Sayu, letting her cry it out. Shirazu was the name that echoed most often within the grey walls, a name that managed to pierce both their hearts. After several minutes of inconsolable weeping, Saiko managed to pull herself together. “But I saw Maman again yesterday. We didn’t talk much, but I miss him too.” She moved closer to Sayu. “You should talk to him. You can convince him to come back.” Sayu bit her lip, slowly choosing her words. She knew full well she had to speak to Sasaki and had tried several times, attempting to remind him that he still had a team to look after, a group of young soldiers in pain. But every single time, like an irritating and useless guard dog, Furuta managed to get in the way and prevent her from getting to her target. Detective Sasaki is very busy; he certainly has no time to think about his old squad. Sayu had always limited herself to shooting him a glare, focusing on Haise, repeating that he was still a role model for the Quinx, but he would look away every time, as if afraid to speak, and that idiot Furuta always managed to rush him away. “Sayu?” murmured Saiko, confused by the grim silence she had fallen into. The other girl snapped out of it and smiled. “Sorry. I’ll try talking to Sasaki again, okay?” Saiko nodded, lowering her gaze, and Sayu hastened to add, “I’m sure he still cares about you. He just doesn’t know how to help.” Saiko managed to offer her a shy smile, then they both stood up.

Saiko had barely stepped out when Hide was already waiting by the door. “Hello, Saiko,” he said gently, and she returned his greeting before hurrying away. “How is she?” he asked Sayu as soon as the door was shut. She sighed as she sat down at her desk. “Not well.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. “There’s something we’re missing.” Hide sat down opposite her. “Yes,” he agreed. “Shirazu’s body is stolen, Haise abandons his team, and Furuta suddenly becomes a first-class investigator and investigates the Owl as if it were nothing. “The Owl,” Sayu repeated, and Hide nodded. “Yes. For some reason, the Owl and Aogiri know exactly when a CCG operation is taking place. They were ready to react at the auction; they were there during the attack on the Tsukiyama Family.” “Do you think there’s an Aogiri mole in the CCG?” Hide shrugged, pensive. “Marude suggested it too, but I’m not sure.'' He scratched his cheek, pondering that theory just as he had a few hours earlier in his mentor’s office: a ghoul spy within the CCG would be one of the worst risks, an unprecedented threat. Yet, the investigators were at the height of their mission. The Rose family and the Tsukiyamas had been destroyed; efforts were now entirely focused on the Owl, and, if they succeeded, they would be the absolute victors of that brutal and endless war. “If that were the case, they’d have found out by now,” said Hide, and Sayu nodded. “What if it’s a double-cross? Someone helping both sides.” He crossed his arms. “Perhaps. It’s as if they’re maintaining a balance. There’s a third party ensuring the CCG and Aogiri remain equal. But why?” “And what’s more, who is it?” added Sayu with a sigh, finding herself studying Hide, lost in thought. Ever since he’d laid out his theories about Amon to her and she’d shared her research, they’d stopped being psychologist and patient. Now they were trapped together in a tangled web of secrets and conspiracies, and all they could do was try to unravel it piece by piece.

She could have given up, Sayu thought. She could have let it go, carried on with her work and pretended to believe the story of the good CCG who protects everyone, but that wasn’t her style. She had always questioned everything, ever since she was a child, when she wondered why Daddy was in his study every evening instead of playing with her, and what those piles of documents on his desk were. Or when, watching the dozens of videos of his trials, seeing the cruelty of the man who had died protecting her, she had questioned his bravery. When at university she had overthrown all her ideas and beliefs, all for a single person, for a ghoul too good-hearted. Was Hide really that different? Ever since she’d known him, he’d always been quick to question everything, to seek the truth behind the orders he was given, to decide for himself what was right. He was putting his reputation, his career, perhaps even his life at risk just to protect his old friends, even though they had now turned into something else, someone else. Perhaps the two of them could be the right people, the eyes that could see through the wall of lies that someone had carefully crafted around reality. Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone, which she answered in a hurry.

Hide stood up quickly, hastily turning off his earpiece, from which Marude’s voice was shouting something. Takizawa approached slowly, his creepy smile gleaming in the moonlight.

“I like the new look. Black is really your colour,” Hide ventured, without moving an inch. Takizawa stopped, staring at him in confusion.

“Unbelievable. You’re still making the same stupid jokes.” He tilted his head, curious. “And yet you don’t seem surprised to see a dead man.”

“I saw you at the auction,” Hide blurted out. “And I spoke to Amon.”

A guttural laugh erupted from Takizawa’s chest, shaking the damp air around them. “Amon! Amon!” he laughed again. “Do you know what Kanou called him? Floppy! He’s a failed experiment, you know? A half-ghoul that turned out so badly they had to throw him away like trash.''

“It seems to have worked out fine for you. ” Hide tried to offer a smile and moved closer, when Haise screamed in pain from the other building, making him turn around immediately.

“Oh, of course,” grunted Takizawa. “You’ve got to keep an eye on your Kaneki.”

“No,” Hide said straight away, not quite sure how to speak to him. With the old Takizawa, he would have known exactly what words to use, what jokes to make, how to encourage him. But this violent, resentful, sadistic version was the complete opposite of the friend he’d once known.

“No one knows I’m here. I didn’t infiltrate to see Kaneki, but the whole operation. There’s something strange going on at the CCG, something they’re hiding. Think about it—they’ve never come looking for you and Amon…” he said quickly, hoping that explaining everything would calm him down.

“Because they don’t care about us!” Takizawa slowly raised an arm. “And they don’t care about you either. You’ve always been too good to them, and they just exploit you.’’

Hide instinctively raised his hands. “I know, believe me. All they do is push me around like a pawn on their missions, only to throw me away when I’m no longer needed. But I want to figure out what they’re up to…”

Takizawa wasn’t even listening to him anymore; he was getting closer and closer, distracted by the metallic glint of the prosthetic limb gesturing in the air. In an instant he grabbed it, observing the long fingers beneath the black glove. He shifted his gaze to Hide, now silent, and, for a moment, he saw him: the boy who sat with him during lunch breaks, who would sit and listen for hours to his rants about colleagues, work, family and career. The one who always tried to get a free lunch, handing out jokes and advice. The only one who didn’t care about awards, quinques or records for ghouls killed. Investigations move forward thanks to intuition, not quinques.

A weakling.

A friend.

The only one like him.

A weakling. Just like him.

Takizawa let go of his arm. “You’re tougher than I thought,” and, for the first time, he seemed sincere.

Hide tried to speak again, but a roar from the building next door drowned out every voice.

This time they both turned, finding themselves staring at the monstrous mask of the Owl that had just appeared on the roof and was clashing with Haise.

“You wanted to observe the situation?” Takizawa’s face twisted back into a grin. “Then enjoy the show.” And in an instant, he vanished.

Hide took a deep breath before switching his earpiece back on, without taking his eyes off the tangle of the Owl’s limbs and kagune.

“Shit, shit. Hide!” Marude’s voice exploded in his ears. “You’ve got to get out of there now. Now, do you hear me?”

“The Owl…”

“I know,” Marude croaked. “But you’ve got to get out of there. Fuck, it’s a disaster.” Hide quickly gathered his binoculars and bag, moving away from the window.

“What are you on about? What happened?”

A gentle breeze blew through the green trees of the cemetery, a shade of bright green that contrasted with the grey of the endless row of graves stretching as far as the eye could see. The same grey as the sky, which too seemed to be in mourning, hung low over the large group of people gathered before a freshly polished grave.

Marude sighed. “Shirazu. He’s dead.”

The eerie silence was broken every now and then by Saiko’s desperate sobs as she knelt before the letters carved into the stone, the letters that spelled out the name of her colleague, team leader, friend.

Sayu wrapped herself tighter in her long black coat, watching the various detectives gathered at the grave from a distance. She felt an instinctive urge to rub her eyes, as if to make sure they had stopped watering, after she had wept all her tears that morning, in secret, sheltered behind her office door.

She was the CCG’s psychologist, after all. She couldn’t be seen in tears. Not when they needed her.

Yet she still felt a weight pressing down on her chest, digging inside her.

A dead investigator.

No, her dead patient. A young man who, until a few days ago, had been smoking with her on the windowsill, now buried underground.

It wasn’t the first time she’d attended a CCG funeral, but this time was different. This was someone she’d helped, someone on whom she’d perhaps had an impact. Who knows if, before dying to save his colleagues, he had thought back on her words, on their conversations. Who knows if he knew he died as a human. Not as a ghoul.

She snapped out of it as soon as she saw the funeral procession disperse and hurried to offer her condolences to Akira and Saiko, who were leading the crowd; she was met with a soft thank you.

When the cemetery was finally empty, she approached the grave slowly, silently staring at the crown of flowers laid upon it. She looked up, noticing a figure standing apart, and approached him.

“My condolences, Urie.” He didn’t react, merely shrugging sadly.

“Thank you.” Sayu looked around, but then, curious, asked: “Don’t you want to go up to the grave?” He snorted. “Why should I? There’s no one in there.” Sayu’s puzzled look spoke louder than any question. “Of course, you wouldn’t know.” Urie crossed his arms. “Aogiri stole the body. They attacked the van carrying it and took it away.”

Sayu was taken aback. “But why?” And suddenly she remembered Hide’s words from a few weeks earlier. The quinx might be in danger.

“And why hasn’t anyone gone to look for him?” she added immediately.

“What do they care? We’re just weapons; they’ve already got other recruits ready.” Sayu wrapped herself even tighter in her coat, as if wanting to disappear into the fabric, and furrowed her brow, as if slapped by his words.

“You aren’t weapons,” she said coldly, and Urie looked at her in surprise, observing the fiery gaze staring at him from beneath her black hair, ruffled by the wind. She was angry, as if offended by his words, as if she couldn’t bear them being used.

He remained silent, whilst a strong gust of wind made them both shiver. They stood in silence for a few minutes, staring at the sea of gravestones, while Sayu’s words seemed to burn in Urie’s mind. You are not weapons.