Credit for the fantastic cover image goes to Almighty Zency. You can find this talented artist under the name 'Zencelot' on Deviantart.
Chapter 1: Leviathan
"Consider the subtleness of the sea; how its most dreaded creatures glide under water, unapparent for the most part, and treacherously hidden beneath the loveliest tints of azure... Consider all this; and then turn to this green, gentle, and most docile earth; consider them both, the sea and the land; and do you not find a strange analogy to something in yourself?"
-Herman Melville, Moby Dick (1851)
Her short legs were crossed and her hands rested on her knees. Eto sat at the top of a stone stair, before the sealed doors of a long-abandoned Shinto shrine. She listened intently to the duet formed by the sound of birdsong and the sound of tree leaves moving in the wind, and relished in the sensation of the cool evening breeze on her skin as it lapped at her neck and face. Though filthy and drab, the cotton robe she wore kept the rest of her body comfortably warm in the draft.
Then the wind died down. She yawned and raised her lithe arms to stretch.
Concealed within a forgotten patch of woodland in the 2nd Ward, this clearing—and the shrine in it—was visited chiefly by birds, though Eto did at times see deer munching at the grass nearby. She liked animals, because they did not complain about how hungry they were getting, or argue loudly with each other about pointless things, or chase after her with murder in their eyes and threats on their tongues.
On the other hand, ghouls and humans did all of the above and more.
So, it was good to relax for a bit in this no-woman's-land, far from the world and its tiring, violent foibles. Eto liked how the clearing dimmed and turned orange as the sun went down, and the way light filtered through the treetops and emerged into the shrine as neat, slanting rays. Though irreligious—as was tradition with ghouls—Eto still appreciated the red shrine before her; not for the shrine's cultural or artistic significance, but for the shelter that the stout roof could offer.
She wanted to spend the night here, out in the wilderness and beneath the stars, which beat the disgusting hovel she usually spent her sleepless nights in by a mile. She knew there was a chance that the band of delinquent ghouls she led about and played mother to would kill each other overnight without her around to keep the peace, but she could not bring herself to care at the moment; she was due for a vacation.
From behind her came a very faint rustling; the noise that something or someone would make as they moved through long grasses. It was barely discernible amidst the tree leaves whistling. Probably just the wind blowing, Eto thought, as she rose from her seat. But, ever cautious, she turned to allay her suspicions that the sounds were more than what she guessed them to be.
A white figure stood there amidst the unkempt grass and pockets of wild flowers, watching her. He gleamed faintly in the twilight sun.
"Good evening, miss," he said courteously. From beneath a short curtain of dark hair, a pair of dark-silver glasses glinted up at her. Alarmed, she examined his appearance in detail; a collared shirt and black tie worn under a belted white coat, and a harmless-looking steel suitcase gripped in his left hand. Obviously a dove, who had perhaps caught sight of her on her way to the shrine, and found her suspicious enough to warrant following.
She would have to remember to be more careful in the future. But it seemed her carelessness had proved convenient this time; as much as she enjoyed meditating, she was a wild one and grew bored easily, so it was fortunate that she could now entertain herself with this dove. And besides, it had been a few days since she had helped herself to a decent meal.
"Good evening, yourself," Eto replied, as she glanced over the rest of the forested shrine around the newcomer. No shimmer from other white coats, and it seemed as if he had not yet decided that she was a ghoul. So she could play with her food before eating it. "Can I help you, mister?"
"No thank you," he said, "I've already found what I'm looking for."
"And what's that?"
"The One-Eyed Owl."
Eto's expression darkened, and her right pupil glowed bright crimson within blackening sclera. The muscle between her shoulder blades pulsed as her kagune emerged from her body, swinging outward with such tremendous momentum that a gust of wind blew forward, and birds spooked by the disturbance quickly fluttered out of the trees. Both of the great pale limbs protruding from Eto's back were lined haphazardly with sharp, branching protrusions, like twisting albino trees. Too starved to use her kakuja, Eto concluded that she did not need it to kill a lone investigator anyway.
She flexed her kagune so that it stretched out like the wings of a monstrous Owl. "Clever, clever little dove. So, where's the rest of your flock hiding?"
"The proper term is 'dole'. 'Dole' of doves. I didn't bring one with me." He raised a finger to adjust his glasses, which the burst of wind had knocked slightly askew. "In fact, none of my associates know I am here."
"Seriously? So you went looking for the Owl, a wanted ghoul that made a joke of even your top investigators, without asking for any help?"
"Correct."
"Are you tired of life or something?" asked Eto, wondering how someone so stupid managed to earn enough promotions to carry a quinque.
"No. With your record, bringing other investigators would only result in unnecessary casualties."
"How bold of you to come here alone then," Eto giggled, "but thanks, I'm flattered. You know, eating your friends isn't easy. Muscle is stringy and tough, so most doves are hard to chew. But you on the other hand, you look... soft."
He maintained his distant, sleepy-looking stare, as if he paid no attention to her boasting. Indeed, he did look notably younger than most investigators; Eto guessed his age to be 20, at the most. Only several years older than herself.
"Mhm, very soft," Eto continued, purring. "I'll do my best to leave your head in one piece, investigator. Or at least your face. You're much, much cuter than those burly old guys."
Still no reply, and the same bored expression. Eto felt a pang of annoyance; her gruesome talk failed to disturb him. She watched as her visitor busied himself with undoing the locks on his briefcase. It fell away and a thin, white blade appeared in its stead, attached firmly to a thick round guard and a curved hilt. Eto found this weapon more fascinating than other quinques she had seen, most of which were simply kagune pieces welded to steel poles.
"Ooooh, that's a cool quinque. Does it have a name?"
"Narukami."
From the west, another breeze entered the fray, and the leaves chirped in place of the absent birds. A misshapen ball of desiccated plants bounced along through the grass, drawing an imaginary line between the Owl and the dove.
The Owl hopped forward from atop the stair and crossed over that line. Her tattered grey robe billowed about her tiny frame as she loosed several long spikes at her opponent, who calmly watched as the falling projectiles closed in on him. All of a sudden the investigator shifted his feet and dashed far to the side, and the spikes embedded themselves harmlessly into the spot where he stood only a moment ago. He sprinted on, circling tightly around the Owl, who had landed to meet him on the grass.
"Ahaaa! Fly, little dove!" The Owl laughed. A rapid volley of spikes flew in a wide arc as she traced her target's movements. But he moved too quickly, and her quills continued to miss and embed themselves in tree trunks and earth. Now and then, his intricate quinque flashed and hummed in a skilled moulinet to deflect more precise missiles.
Soon, her kagune ran dry of its spears. Her opponent slowed his pace to a brisk walk and headed straight for her, wrist and blade pointed down as if he held a walking cane. Eto could not believe what she was seeing; most ghouls were unable to dodge her swarming quills for long without taking a hit or two, and yet this dove had evaded all of them with little effort.
With a frustrated cry, Eto barreled forwards to meet him; now she wanted to tear that obnoxiously calm face into shreds. She closed their distance and swung with fierce confidence at her foe, sweeping wide so that he could not dash away. Alas, her kagune clawed through thin air; the dove vanished from sight. The Owl recovered quickly, tried to turn, and lost her balance as her right leg gave way.
Stumbling, she glanced down. Most of her knee and the right side of her abdomen had been sheared off.
Eyes wide with shock, Eto lifted a hand and bit down on it to stop herself from panicking. Blood filled her mouth and its sweetness distracted her from the agony radiating through her wounds. All of a sudden, there was a loud crackling, followed by the darkened clearing suddenly growing bright, and the sound of something massive rushing through the air. Eto glanced over her shoulder and balked at the golden thunderbolt soaring her way.
Thinking fast, she propelled herself upwards, jumping clear of the projectile, and collided into the shrine as she mistimed her landing. The shrine doors were ripped from their hinges, and Eto fell with them in a heap. She wanted to close her eyes. She didn't dare.
She tossed her head up, and saw the dove standing there in the grasses, Narukami aimed towards the ground. The quinque had transformed; the blade had split apart at the guard into four long prongs, between which sparks of electricity pulsed and flew. Then he leveled it at her again, and the weapon hummed and shook with power. The Owl braced herself as she crossed her kagune into a makeshift shield. It held against the blast, but shuddered and creaked, and the force of the impact trailed down and tugged at Eto's shoulder blades.
There was another peal of thunder, and Eto readied herself for the next storm as she grew despondent. It was all so horribly confusing. She did not understand how her enemy moved with such impossible agility, or how he had cut her apart without her even noticing, or how his quinque fired lightning. But when the next thundering burst finally defeated her kagune and tossed its immobile arms up into the trees, Eto did understand that she was going to die.
With her last line of defense gone, she propped herself up on her good knee; it was all she could do to preserve some of her dignity in the face of death, who stood tall and pale and merciless at the foot of the stairs. As the adrenaline that fueled her will to fight ebbed away, Eto wanted to scream and curse her fate, but could not find the energy to do so. So she sighed, cursing herself quietly for fighting recklessly and for not being able to use her kakuja.
She watched as his quinque's prongs joined together again. The long blade returned, and Eto bowed her head.
And so ends my miserable tale, she mused. The tale of a friendless little girl, abandoned at birth by her family and left to fend for herself in a perverted world that despised her kind. But perhaps her life had all just been one long nightmare, and soon she would awaken somewhere better.
"What are you waiting for?" Eto called weakly, through dry cracked lips. "You've won. Stop wasting time and come finish the job." She no longer felt fear or remorse, or even anger; just indescribably strange. Her tongue felt unfamiliar and alien as it rubbed at her blood-caked teeth. Her eyelids felt thick and fat as she opened and closed them with effort.
She waited for the executioner to ascend the block. Eto counted the seconds as they passed, wondering what number she would land on before she would hear the first thud of his shoe on the step. 5, then 10. And then on to 15...
That sound never came. Instead, her resigned counting was interrupted by the dove's voice.
"Few ghouls dare to attack the CCG in its own guarded territory," he lectured, "and those who do tend to die quickly. But you, Owl, have led several attacks, each of which was organized and successful, and cost the CCG dearly."
Eto remained silent.
"It's clear that you're no ordinary ghoul. I know that. What I want to know is why you fight the CCG."
What a stupid question, Eto thought. Then she realized she had no clear answer to it.
"Yes. I want to know the reason you fight."
"A reason...?" she asked, as she lifted her head. Her weary, half-lidded eyes found the frost-cold stare of the man who held her fate in his hands, and she saw that his eyes were no longer blank and unfocused; now they were firmly set on her, and gleamed with expectation.
Eto decided it would be nice to be sincere for once.
"Because..." she trailed off, struggling through a haze of exhaustion to find the right words to describe her motivation. She finished her answer with renewed resolve in her voice. "...I want to take this fucked up, piece of shit world, fuck it up even more, and then give it a factory reset."
Silence, and a long pause. The dove's eyes lost their focus and went dull again. Eto wondered if her words had disappointed him, or if they were profound enough to give him something to think about. It did not really matter to her anymore.
"I see," said the dove, finally. The corners of his mouth curved up into a smirk. "That's great."
"Fine. Go ahead and mock me," Eto said in resignation. "It's not like I can do anything about it."
"I'm not mocking you," he replied. He did sound genuine, and it looked as if there was a spark of approval in his eyes. "I really do think that's great, because I want this world to change, too."
The investigator lifted his head and held his gaze up into the sky, as if he suddenly caught sight of something captivating beyond the treetops. Eto looked up with him, and saw that the orange sky had since turned a deep shade of blue, streaked with hints of gold. Hundreds of piercing bright stars peeked out from everywhere in the void, and Eto likened them to brilliant gemstones that gleamed defiantly from the depths of some bleak ocean. That sky was far more beautiful than the world she stood on. Eto looked away.
"Have you heard of 'V'?" The investigator asked, still observing the starry twilight.
"I have," Eto replied. He raised his brows, as if it surprised him to hear that. Eto continued. "My... mother. She knew about V. She went after them to find out more about who they really are, and they killed her for it."
"I see." A brief pause. "I'm very sorry to hear that."
Eto said nothing. By the fading light of dusk, she could just make out the outlines of his sharp, practically androgynous features, and the firm chin beneath his black hair. Now Eto believed he looked almost like an elf, or at least somehow otherworldly. And having caught a glimpse of the power that his youthful appearance belied...
Strangely, she thought he was beautiful.
"V believes that they hold the world in their hands," the dove continued, dragging her back to cruel reality. "They think they sit unopposed on their imaginary throne, and that from there, they can control humans and ghouls forever." His gaze and voice were steel again, and he looked back at Eto. "I want to prove them wrong by purging the world of their influence. I'm determined to do so."
"How inspiring," Eto commented flatly, doing her best to sound completely uninspired, "but I don't know why you're telling me all this."
"Because I've decided that we can help each other."
"Help each other?" repeated Eto. For a moment she puzzled over his words and weighed the meaning behind them, and then she sneered unpleasantly. "So you're turning your back on the CCG, then? And how can a dead little ghoul girl help you, anyway?"
"Firstly, you're not going to die," he replied dismissively. "Not today, since I can see that your vision is in line with my own." He reached down into the grass and retrieved his briefcase. With a snap, his quinque was locked back into its shell. Eto released a breath she did not know she had been holding.
"And, about the CCG?" the dove continued. "You're correct. I am betraying them, because I want to bring them to heel as well. The Washuu clan are lapdogs of V."
He paused for a moment to allow Eto to digest this fact in silence. Though it was astonishing, she found it oddly plausible too, and raised no questions. He went on.
"You are the hope of ghouls everywhere, Owl, because your example shows that the CCG is not infallible or undefeatable," he explained. "More and more ghouls will rally to your cause. When that happens-"
"We'll have raised a ghoul army the likes of which have never been seen before," Eto finished, "and with the power of that army, we'll destroy the CCG, and flush V down the drain with it."
He nodded. "Well said."
Eto ruminated on this plot. She still harbored reservations about him and his intentions, and a bit of stubborn animosity towards him as well; he had sliced her apart like a piece of meat and humiliated her. Yet she could not deny that his offer was interesting, and an alliance sounded effective. Perhaps effective enough to actually make a difference.
"Okay, fake dove. Count me in," Eto finally announced. "Let's work together."
"That's very good to hear." He smiled faintly as he placed his free hand on his chest in a gesture of introduction. "My name is Kishou Arima. What's yours?"
Arima. Horse. Plus, he wore white, so he was a 'pale horse', like the spectral beast ridden by Death in the Bible. Eto found it eerily appropriate.
"...My name is Eto," she said reluctantly, after a moment of reflection.
"You don't have a surname?"
"I have one. But it's not worthy of me," Eto spat. "I would use my mother's name if I knew it. But I don't."
"Understood," Arima said. He looked at the shrine, squinting hard through his glasses. Eto wondered why, since it was not yet dark enough to obscure eyesight.
"In one week," he declared, "meet me here again at six in the evening. Be very certain that you aren't followed this time. There's much that we need to discuss: plans to make, and questions to answer. I expect that there are still things that you aren't certain about regarding me, or this sudden partnership."
"Yeah, a few things," Eto admitted, bristling slightly at his mention of her carelessness. "One week. Six o'clock. I'll be here."
"Very well. Until then, good luck." He gave a firm nod, then turned away to depart. Eto glared after him. She was not finished yet.
"Oi, investigator."
Arima stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Yes?"
"Tell me, how did you know that I'm the One-Eyed Owl?"
"That's a long story," Arima answered, "which I will save for another time. Just more incentive for you to come, isn't it?"
Eto rolled her eyes. "I guess."
"Then goodbye, Eto," he said, as he went on his way. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Eto's frown broke into a sarcastic chuckle. Arima walked off into the shaded woods and disappeared into the shadows. With her guest gone, she carefully lifted herself off her knee and sat on her rear, wincing as she inspected the injuries she had sustained in battle.
Shortly after, it became night. The musical clapping of leaves had long since been drowned out by the growing din of chirping crickets. Utterly spent, Eto relaxed and leaned her head back against a wall of the shrine. She gazed up into that vast, jeweled ocean, and pictured herself lying idly on a raft made of books. There, she would be able to read and write in peace forever, her only company being the crisp starlight and the resonant songs of whales in the mysterious deep.
With the pain of her injuries lessened enough to become bearable and her flesh knitting back together, there was nothing that obligated Eto to stay awake anymore. Go to sleep already, she thought, they're healing well. She closed her eyes.
"See you later, Kishou Arima," Eto muttered, contemplating the way the syllables of his name rolled off her tongue. He was strange. Even his name sounded strange. Yet she could not deny that, for some reason, their talk had left a pleasant warmth in the pit of her stomach. She was not able to name that warmth, either. Perhaps it was the mythical thing called 'hope'?
Eto dozed off.
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