Tokyo Ghoul:re DOVE

"Please... don't make me a murderer..."

My eyes opened slightly, exhausting taxed over me. "Ah, you're awake..." I turned my head to see a familiar face. He was one of the old men living here, in this ruined junkyard. One wouldn't think to investigate here for any sort of Ghoulish activities, making it quite the hideaway for any and all kinds of Ghouls. Some were those from Aogiri, others simply trying to get by, and make a living.

The old man, Ganshi I think he was called, was a round man with a chubby face and dark facial hair, covering both his chin and upper lip, a scar running diagonally across his left eye. His short, rugged gray hair was hidden beneath an old worker's cap. He had lost his eye to a battle with an Investigator back in his youth. He used to be called the Hornet, due to the stinger-like Kagune. He was classified as an A-Rank Ghoul.

I yawned as I stretched my arms. That dream again... I can't count the number of times I've had that dream. Of course, it was always the same, never changing... it showed him back before he joined Aogiri Tree, back when his white hair had been dark. "Looks like you slept well." Ganshi chuckled. "How's yer arm?"

I didn't reply, just shrugging it and stretching it out for emphasis. I finally managed to grow back my old arm, though it was a pain to do so. As I stood up to my full height, getting rid of the creaks in my neck, I looked down at myself. I had long discarded my old clothes, wearing a pair of denim gray jeans with tears, a cotton shirt with a leather jacket over it, a pair of leather glows and boots, a red scarf, and like Ganshi, a worker's hat. My hair had also grown out to be rather shaggy, now reaching towards the collar of my neck.

"Well, we're getting ready to depart for the time being." Ganshi informed me as he turned away, making his way to the others. "Make sure ya don't fall behind, okay?" he said over his shoulder. It was a routine schedule, we would leave the junkyard and make ends meat. In other words, we would go out and hunt for bodies, suicide victims, corpses, hell even dog meat. Raw animal meat was edible, to a degree, but it tastes rather foul. Of course, none of us were about to complain.

I grabbed my case, and slipped on my sunglasses. As far as those at CCG knew, the Rank 1 Investigator had died during the raid at the Ghoul Cafe, Anteiku. I was just simply a random passerbyer looking for a job, the case acting as a cover. Of course, some Investigators and scouters would recognize the infamous briefcase of the trade, housing a weapon made from a Ghoul That alone has earned my suspicious looks, and more often than not have I been driven into combat.

That was another rule for those that lived in the junkyard. Avoid fighting as much as possible, and if you couldn't help it, do your best not to kill. Ganshi was the leader of the group of stragglers, and our foreman for a lack of better terms.

I made my way into the 1st Ward, my usual grounds. You would be surprised how many bodies you could find here. Although, today wasn't my workday, rather it was one of the few days where I could actually relax. I just avoided the stares of people, my clothing odd to many, and went straight for my destination. It was a coffee shop that opened up not too long ago, one I frequented. True, the waitress wasn't exactly fond of me, and she had every reason to be.

Oh, perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Kotaru Amon, a former Investigator for the Commission of Counter Ghoul, an organization that, as of two years ago, has undertaken the responsibility of eliminating all the Ghouls from this world. You might ask, why am I now working with Ghouls, when my job was to eliminate them? The answer was simple:

I was a Ghoul as well... at least, I am now. I have been for the last two years. I don't recall much of how it happened, as the last thing I remember is fighting the Ghoul with the red mask, Tatara of Aogiri Tree. I do not remember what happened then, but I do know that I had lost an arm prior to my battle with him. Back then, I used to carry an intense, deep hatred for Ghouls, but all of that started to change when I met a Ghoul with a black mask bearing a Frankenstein motif, an eyepatch over his right eye.

He was the SS-Rank Ghoul, codename Centipede. He was originally known as Eyepatch due to his mask, and was recorded as an Executive within Aogiri Tree. It was confusing for me. Why was a Ghoul, who begged to not become a killer, joining a group that was ruthless, and killed any that opposed them?

In the end, I didn't learn the answer... but that did not mean I wasn't about to give up. I still want to learn more about that Ghoul... about the one named Ken Kaneki.

I stopped in front of the shop, peering into the window. The waitress was working today, already taking orders with a routine smile, and the bartender was waiting behind the counter, cleaning a glass. I sighed, shaking my head as I opened the door, the bell ringing to alert my presence. The waitress turned to me, her smile fading almost instantly, and the bartender becoming suspicious. Despite the fact that I was known to be a regular, they were always wary of me. As I said, I did not blame them, as one who hunted their kind in the past.

"...Welcome to :re." the waitress, Touka Kirishima, formerly known as Rabbit, said to me with a quiet tone. "What can I do for you?"

I gave her my usual order and took a seat near the window. There were a few people here today, a bit more than usual. I set my case down next to the chair, and patiently waited for my coffee. I decided to take a look around, seeing a couple of familiar faces. Among them were Ghouls, two of them from the 14th Ward and 12th Ward.

"Here's your order." I turned to see Kirishima setting the coffee down, steam pouring from the cup. "Enjoy." I nodded, tipping my hat as I took a sip before cringing. Yeesh, it was hot, even more so than usual. Oh well, my own fault for diving straight into it so early. It was after the second sip that I noticed that Kirishima had yet to leave.

"...Do you want me to leave?" I asked, trying to be polite. The woman simply glared at me before turning her foot and silently stomping away, getting more orders from the other customers. I suppose her hostility is warranted... after all, I helped rob her of someone very close to her.

Hard to believe I thought I was doing it out of justice. I used to think all Ghouls were monsters, but Eyepatch... no, Ken Kaneki proved me otherwise.

I went back to my coffee, intent with the anger, before I noticed the bartender, Renji Yomo, walking toward me with the ever-stern expression. Sometimes I think it was permanently glued to his face. "...Yomo." I greeted, the man nodding back as he took a seat.

We simply just stared back at each other, one of us trying to figure out the other. It was a game, more or less, trying to find fault within one another. We each believed that we had something to hide, a scheme, but we were never able to find one.

After two minutes, Yomo sighed. "...Have you found him yet?" he asked, almost somberly. I knew who he was talking about, and shook my head. "I see..."

"I've asked a few others back at the junkyard," I told him. "But none of them have seen a boy with white hair wearing a mask with an eyepatch, or someone with a Centipede-shaped Kakuja." I doubted anyone would see the later. Kakuja were rare, and they were also grim reapers of sorts to others, as those with a Kakuja are generally feared and awed for their strength. Most people think I have a Kakuja as well, due to my Arata armor.

"...Thanks for looking for him, Kotaru." Yomo said, looking me straight in the eye. "Even if Touka-chan doesn't show it, she does appreciate everything you've been doing."

"I know." I nodded. "But... I sincerely doubt that you still don't hate me for robbing that girl of her mother, or any of your friends."

Yomo said nothing, but I could see a flicker of emotion in his eyes as he stood up and went back to work.

I sighed, looking down at my coffee before deciding to screw it and drank the whole thing in one go, some of it drizzling down the corner of my mouth and dripping from my chin. I took some money from my pocket and placed it on the counter, taking my case and getting up to leave. I could have sworn I heard Kirishima give another 'hmph' as I went for the door.

However, just as I was about to touch the handle, it opened again. I quickly stepped out of the way of the door. "Ah, s-sorry!" the person opening the door apologized. I looked to see a group of people, consisting of three, standing at the doorway. They were young, two looking to be in high school or college at least. The first had dark green bluish hair with a medical eyepatch over his right eye, and the other had blonde hair with a few strands sticking out at the top, his teeth like that of the shark.

However, the last person caused me to freeze in place. He was the oldest, somewhere in his early twenties, wearing a familiar white coat with a gray suit underneath it, complete with a tie. His left eye was light red, and the other, grayish brown. His hair was white with streaks of black, and his face gentle.

I couldn't believe my eyes... that was...

"...Eyepatch..." I muttered without realizing it. The one currently wearing an eyepatch stuttered a bit, obviously surprised, but the oldest could tell that it was directed at him. His eyes widened slightly, his eyes staring at my own, despite them being hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

I quickly pushed myself away from them, apologizing as I did so before sneaking a glance at the boy, his eyes trailing after me.

That was definitely Ken Kaneki... but... why the hell is he wearing an Investigator's uniform?

I had to get answers... one way, or another.

END (1) The Start of Something Wicked