A/N: Due to the lack of GinAka on FFN, I decided to write some. Expect angst, hurt/comfort and a sprinkling of romance in this four-shot. Some scenes in this four-shot have been modelled on 'Antithetic' so do not be surprised if some segments are in this story. Hints of past KougAne, developing GinAka.

I – Bereavement

The difference was more than subtle. It settled on the offices like a lingering silence; it was silence that spoke words, infinite lengths, and carried on for minutes, hours and days. It was silence that caused exchanged glances, forced smiles and fake laughs.

It was odd and tense – this atmosphere that surrounded them – at least that was what they thought. They did not say much anymore to each other besides morning and evening wishes and orders. It was dull and monotonous, as if the cycle had been broken months before and repaired with bland tape that spoke of nothingness.

Every coffee cup that was drunk; every report that had been filled in; every dutiful task that was performed was accomplished slower than usual. The essence of time was heavy; filled with nothing more than delays and postponements. It was so sluggishly slow that even snails moved at a faster rate than this. It dragged on through the days endlessly; conforming to the wearisome cycle they had become a part of.

Gone were the faces, the laughs and the discussions shared between them – all of them. All that was left was the outer shell of their team: a crippled inspector; another inspector who had seen and felt more than she should have and an enforcer who said nothing – remaining in the background, almost soulless.

They had all seen too much, been through too much. Maybe that was what connected them in more ways than one. Yet it never did. They just grew more distant than ever before.

Division One would never be the same as it had once been.

Nobuchika Ginoza slumped back against the pillow on his hospital bed. He tried to stretch his limbs but a sharp shot of pain coursed through his body. His left arm, or what had been his left arm, was covered in wires and titanium pins. Occasionally electric jolts would shake him, leaving him in immense pain and distress. He instinctively placed his right arm over it, trying to ease what was left of it. He swore under his breath. The prosthetic engineer was supposed to come to sort out this new arm of his.

His Crime Coefficient was still stuck past the 100 mark; an appalling number. Ever since he had been admitted to the rehabilitation facility, the number still stayed within the 140s to 150s range with no sign of decreasing. Coupled with that were the nightmares that haunted him in his sleep, forever lurking and tugging at the core of his mind; he would awake, drenched in cold sweat, with images swimming in his mind. The pictures he saw with his inner eye were those of blood; of yells; of gunshots ringing out.

His mind continuously returned to the incident that had occurred only two weeks ago.

It's only a dream, he told himself countless times in the past few days.

The faces and voices were still etched into his mind, like the nightmares; Kagari's laugh; Kougami's smirk; Masaoka's wise words.

All of their little gestures and sayings had always been ignored by him, ignored for work purposes. He had been driven by a stupid, stupid goal and it had only led him to the end of earth where he had searched for the answer for so long.

The result had been this.

He should have appreciated them a little more; watched and contemplated a little longer.

Tsunemori had been right. All of the remaining members of what had once been Division One – their division – missed the three of them. Even Kunizuka voiced her opinion on the matter, which was rare for her. Then again, Kagari had been her friend.

Nobuchika was even willing to say that they had departed from them for unnecessary reasons.

He missed them.

"I'm worried about Gino. He's not his usual self." Shion Karanamori sighed as she collapsed onto the leather sofa in her lab.

"Yeah, well who can blame him? He's lost his dad, Kougami and Kagari in the span of a few weeks. Cut him some slack." Yayoi muttered, concentrating on her cup ramen.

Her partner took a drag of her cigarette, smoke rose to the ceiling; it quickly evaporated into thin air. "True. I do miss his snobby attitude."

Yayoi snorted into her plastic carton. "He'll always be snobby, Shion. Mark my words."

The analyst nodded in response. "I suppose we could ask Akane to see how he's doing."

"You're too late. She just went."

"That means she'll be back late. Guess I'll get work done." Shion moved to her desk chair.

Kunizuka raised an eyebrow. "Since when've you been so proactive?"

"Since now," Shion paused her line of speech as she tapped in the password keys for her computer. "I've procrastinated too much and Chief Kasei wants some report on security cameras to be handed in later tomorrow."

"Can't you ask one of the other analysts to do it?"

"They wouldn't wanna work with a latent criminal. Besides, she messaged me personally about it."

Yayoi threw her ramen carton in the bin. "I'll be off now."

"See you later."

Ever since that incident, Inspector Tsunemori had felt a little calmer; a little calmer than she had been a few weeks ago at least. The city had been restored to peace. The helmet riots had stopped and Makishima Shogo had also been stopped albeit in the most unlawful way.

At night-time she lay on her bed, counting the stars amid the holographic projections that distorted her view. She spotted constellations, and wrote names in those stars; characters and kanji would merge to form the names of people she lost, people she loved, and people she gained. The list was small though.

There was still the dull ache she felt when her former colleague was mentioned; she had made attempts to avoid such conversations, only ever citing him when necessary. In last two weeks, they had kept silent as a division, such questions were taboo.

She didn't cry anymore. All the tears she once had shed were dry, there weren't any more left. Blood had been shed of course, but it was forgotten. Sometimes she heard his voice at night. It was rare though. She slept without dreams after counting the constellations, as though her whole life had been a figment of her imagination.

Kunizuka and Ginoza hardly spoke anymore but it was expected. Even when the other ones had been there, they had usually been silent. She expected the new enforcers to arrive soon, even if it was only to breathe a new life into their bland and colourless lives.

She missed them too; at least in that tiny fragment of a memory, there had been happiness.

The inspector still lay on her bed, still staring at the ceiling. The constellations vanished, replaced by thick walls and technological images. Her wristband chirped. She tapped at the holographic screen to read the message. It was from Ginoza.

Ward 3 was brightly lit by fluorescent blue and white lights, wires surrounded the area and drones kept the patients guarded. It smelled sterile; heavy with antiseptic and germ-free. Akane presented her ID to the drone guarding Room 10. It registered her and let the inspector in.

Lying on the hospital bed was Ginoza. He was sitting up in bed with pillows supporting his back. He held a book in his right hand. With his eyes, the patient gestured for her to take a seat on the chair next to him. Although his body moved as he attempted to shift positions, his left arm was useless and limp like a puppet.

Akane took her seat and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "I saw your message. How are you?"

Ginoza looked up to face her. He hesitated briefly before speaking. "It's gone up. I'll have to resign."

His words were short and quick. Akane responded. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better about it?"

There was an immediate mood change.

"Yeah," He eyed her scornfully. "You can laugh at this pathetic excuse for a man and go complain about him to your 'boyfriend'."

"Listen, Kougami wasn't my boyfriend, okay? Just stop making assumptions of yourself and of others!" Her brown eyes betrayed a hint of hurt and of betrayal.

Kougami was gone from them. Gone for his own selfish reasons. Yet that didn't change Ginoza, he was indifferent to it, as if he had seen it happen many times – as though the deaths and losses he had seen and felt just continued to increase. He hated being left behind; he didn't want Tsunemori to fall the same way.

"Or what?" He sneered at her, ignoring his thought process.

Akane found herself at loss for words.

He replied, still scrutinizing her. "I thought you wouldn't respond," Ginoza did not await her reaction. "Here."

Nobuchika rummaged around the bedside table and the bed sheets with his only hand. After a couple of seconds, he placed something in her hand.

It was his police badge. The hologram flickered at intervals, appearing bluish-green and quickly converting to white. His picture was still intact; dark hair, wire-rimmed glasses and a scowl etched on his face. "Tell Chief Kasei I'm leaving."

"But–"

"Tsunemori, I'm of no use to you or anyone at the PSB. It's better if I just stay in the rehabilitation facility. I'm a bloody latent criminal; you shouldn't associate yourself with me. Just go." He did not look at her as he said it, instead he faced the door with cold green eyes. His words were laced with bitterness.

"Mr Ginoza, please–"

"Go." The patient said, still staring at the door guarded by the drones.

"I care about you!"

He met her gaze. His left eye muscle twitched slightly and his lips creased into a thin line. "You shouldn't. Now please leave before I get even angrier."

Tsunemori rose from her seat next to his bed and turned away from him, her shoes sounded on the tiled floor, a dull noise, before it stopped. Receding footsteps were replaced with the electronic shutting of doors.

He sighed, glaring at the ceiling. "What have I done?" He croaked out to no one in particular.

The rain was heavy this evening. Droplets of water splattered onto the pavement like bloodstains. It ran down gutters like water exiting a shower head into the drain. The repeating sounds of thunder echoed in the distance, a dull cry of rage. The low hum of car engines resonated quietly in the thunderstorm, engulfed by the continuous pouring of rain.

Seated beside the window, Yayoi placed her earphones in her ears and hit the 'Play' button on her device. The strains of the bass guitar were replaced by the screeching sound of an electric guitar and the song changed to one with metal rock music. Her grey eyes flitted across her surroundings outside the glass barrier. Such music seemed perfect for this dreary weather.

Akane reclined back in her office chair. The room was dark save for a desk lamp on Kunizuka's desk that the enforcer had left on after she retired for the night.

The inspector twirled the black leather wallet in her hands; the hologram badge glinted in her eyes. It gave off a hazy electric blue colour, painting her face and body in that same colour. After a few minutes of examining it, she placed the wallet on her desk. She stared at it.

Was he really going to leave?