Tomoe Ayama and Haise Sasaki don't know each other much at all, and for the most part, it feels the way it should. To be partnered with another person you've never met, well, it just feels sort of weird, not entirely in a bad way, but, not entirely in a good way either. Yet, for brief moments, it feels like they've known each other for quite a long time. These moments aren't out in the field, or when they slice up ghouls. No, it's more like, if they glance at each other from the left corner of the right most room in the CCG headquarters, they feel the weight of some previous existence they lived out together. Though, this existence is probably one of those things that goes unshared between any two people because tension feels pretty damn good, and well, it's a little weird to tell someone else that you've lived a past life with them, isn't it?

The systematic restructuring of the CCG and a demotion that's made waves across the brows of Ghoul Investigators in Japan has left Haise Sasaki, one part ghoul and two parts human, a third rank investigator. Sometimes he wondered if that title really meant all that much, considering the amount of risk involved didn't really change in the least. He continued to think this until he heard directly from Akira Mado that he'd be removed from the "Q" squad, not just as their leader, but entirely from the project. Another investigator from special investigations would be coming in to "handle" the group's, "reckless behavior and lack of sensible judgment in the face of a race threatening the integrity of human kind." Okay. That sounded pretty serious. He probably deserved to be removed. His inefficiency as a leader and inability to motivate his subordinates to survive as a unit made him a pretty lousy investigator. Just about the only thing he could do was show his back to them, more like a bodyguard and less like a father.

That's where his mind seems to twist though, in a lot of unfair ways. Fathers always feel like fathers, regardless of how crappy they are at it. Haise Sasaki felt like a terrible father, but a father none the less. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about wanting to get back to his babies. They deserved considerably better than a walk-on Ghoul Investigator who hadn't graduated from the academy, and, well, they probably needed a more stern person. Haise was considerably nicer than most people. He sort of hoped Mado would take over the role. She seemed like a pretty kick ass mother. More like a mother who happens to kick your ass, but that's not so bad.

Yes, Haise thought all these things about the CCG's decision to remove him from his post as the leader of team Q, and he did indeed hope that a leader would emerge to guide those ambitious kids into an era of ghoul and human peace, rather secretly. But, there's always a but. Before he'd reported to his new office on the first floor of the CCG headquarters to the left of the RC scanners, and, well let's face it, by to the left, he meant as far left as one might go in a door hidden by some cardboard boxes, he'd felt a little anxious. He hadn't received any word on his new partner, and that wasn't all the strange; third class investigators were a special case, so not many existed, and second class investigators were tied up helping groups like Team Mado with the nutcracker case. He might not get a partner, to be honest, considering he'd probably be in charge of some lower level ghouls who looked for fresh lunch once a month in first ward back alleys. Even so, with all the logic he could muster, he still felt like he hadn't gotten a kick in the ass in a while. If there was anything Akira Mado had taught him, it was that if life hadn't given you some alarming tragedy in the past 24 hours, expect a delivery straight to your gut. That seemed a little too pessimistic, though. After all, a new partner seemed kind of like an adventure to Haise. It made him smile a little bit when he passed by cardboard boxes. There were funny looking pictures of a rabbit with a big X.

Touka Kirishima wasn't exactly in good spirits. Halcyon days spent in the 20th ward, where food was packaged up and coffee cups abundant enough for humans and ghouls alike, had shifted into a nutcracker mess surrounding the ever present CCG headquarters. Ghoul Investigators like Juuzou Suzuya, a sadistic bastard with an affinity for needles, routinely ordered sweets and coffee from her before going out to hunt members of her kind. She didn't really even think she had a damned kind, but in accordance with CCG policy, she accepted that she was in fact, a different, "kind," of person. She didn't really think the people these investigators were killing deserved to live. Some of them were probably scum. In fact, if she'd seen the human scum that walked through the doors of her establishment asking for coffee and feeling for quite a few other things die, just as her kind was being destroyed, she might of simply accepted things as they were. But that wasn't the case. It seemed like ghoul scum was far worse off than human scum. And the good people, the good ghouls, rather, were far worse off than both of the aforementioned parties.

And, most of all, she'd only met one investigator worth knowing in her lifetime. The rest, well, it wasn't that she thought they didn't deserve to live in particular, more like they deserved death. Emphatically.

To stand by and to nothing was to rot in a cage. Probably next to a pretty healthy bird. She didn't care for birds very much, and to rot next to one, well, that probably would taste a little like cake did. Touka Kirishima decided, despite the direction her fellow "cofounders" of the café dictated, that she would save ghoul lives. To kill "doves" and second class investigators only brought in big fish ghoul killers. And to help them escape was only to deny the fact that there wasn't packaged meat floating around anymore for lower ranked ghouls. Sooner or later, they'd have to come back to the streets for food, and it'd all be a pointless exercise. Perhaps the only way to save ghoul lives was from the inside. To retrieve information on the "hunting routes" of the doves floating around the city was to ensure the survival of at least a few ghouls who could eat and return to their shacks on the edge of town. To protect a ghoul's way of life, well, that didn't seem like such a pointless exercise.

Maybe she'd get to meet this Ghoul Investigator again. Maybe she could figure out why he changed from a complete idiot into an asshole who happened to still be a complete idiot.

To become a third rate investigator meant proving one's worth. It also meant being able to suppress the RC count in her body to avoid systematic detection, much less organic give away. RC inhibitors meant she could pass through machines undetected pretty easily, though that sill made her sweat. She'd have to find a way to carry a constant supply of RC inhibiting syringes with her. Perhaps that was the easiest part though. Proving her worth to a CCG department constantly on edge concerning the idea of a ghoul mole seemed a little bit more pressing.

Touka had been a little lucky over the last few years, though. Well, lucky and hardworking. Her move from 20th ward to the surrounding areas had given her a great many talents. She was in charge of using computer systems to keep encrypted records of the ghouls still under the protection of her café after the incidents resulting in the disappearance of Kaneki Ken and a great deal of lower and middle class ghouls. She had to send these records across networks to agencies set up in other wards capable of housing lower ghouls while also providing them with food. It was a difficult job.

The CCG had made this job even more difficult about a year earlier when they discovered some of the information being trafficked through the wards. The leaking of this information resulted in the capture, torture and death of hundreds of ghouls who had no information on the dealings of the Aogiri tree or any of the other high class ghoul organizations. Good ghouls were punished for the crimes of those who fooled around with idea of an all ghoul world and a stupid girl who had no business handling actual human lives.

She hadn't eaten for months because of this.

It was only upon nearly reaching death that she remembered why life was such an important thing. To ignore the lives remaining, that she could still save, if only for a little while, was to accept that life meant, for ghouls, ultimately nothing. Moments like a father's hug, or the warmth of food a friend's made for you, those were nothing in the face of injustices. To eat was to live, and to live was to serve all those remaining alive.

She gained skills she never thought possible in the time since. She could send information across any line at any time, to any ward, perhaps even farther than that. She quite often enjoyed leaking false information to the CCG and attending their party of anger and frustration when some high ranked ghouls waited for them instead of the small fry. Ill equipped investigators were easy prey. Though, she realized this wasn't exactly joy she was feeling. It was more like a respite, between her times routing information. She was constantly working to relocate people when the slightest hint of a dove caught her nose. Even more than that, probably, and the ghouls probably got annoyed because of it. But they were alive.

That wasn't joy, either. To save lives was important. It made life matter again, in some areas. But, it seemed, selfishly, like the filling of a hole. She wondered if it was possible to fill this hole, or perhaps exterminate the fire, the desire to fill it entirely.

The skills she gained in computer networking gave her not only practical skills that could be used by any department, but also skills in coordination and discipline. She also had incredible physical strength. That'd probably be pretty helpful, too.

The real tough cookie to crack was how she'd show those bastards that she was quite ready to join their ranks. What could she do?

The doors of the CCG were a pretty marvelous thing. They'd transformed from the efficient crystal things that marked police departments into great, black marble gates that led to heaven and hell. Passing through them was godlike.

The swipe of an employee card was a pretty great sounding thing, as well. The beeping sound that came from the computer made Touka think about what the cream feeling of a doughnut should taste like.

Kaneki said they were good.

"You're cleared, first class Ayama. Is this your first day mam? I've never seen you before."

"You could say that. Could you direct me as to where I can, uh, find Akira Mado? She's the reason I've been assigned here."

"Oh really? I did hear something about an investigator being reassigned. So maybe you're the one who'll be taking his place. It'd be nice to see some more women around here. The elevators are just over to the right hand side. You'll have to use your card to get up, so keep it out honey."

Reassigned. Her stomach felt a little sloppy then. It felt like soup. Soup usually tasted like tire. If tire had a taste, well, one that could be described, it'd probably be anxious. Which probably tasted like something akin to a rather purple flower. So on.

The RC scanner didn't go off. And she'd forgotten to sweat about it, it seemed. The elevator looked far more modern than the gothic doors she'd entered. They reeked of the money being funneled into this place by the dirty bastards running a systematic annihilation. She liked bloody people a lot more than the dirty ones. The bloody ones smelled better.

"Tomoe Ayama" The elevator read her name back to her. That name didn't seem much different than her real name. It felt a lot more alive, more human than Touka Kirishima.

Her destination was penultimate floor of the CCG headquarters. Boy did she love reading. Or hate it. She knew Akira Mado's offices would be just to the left along a corridor outside the elevator. She knew exactly what she would do. Hopefully. She removed her wig, long black hair floated down and over her shoulders. She figured this would work a little bit better with her aesthetic. She ripped the sleeves of her nice black jacket, showing off some ink she'd had put on the day before. It was all removable, courtesy of a very handsome tattoo artist she'd known from what seemed like a past life. She rolled up the bottoms of her pants and pinned them, revealing the top portion of her combat booms. She looked like a punk. Messenger bag and all.

She wasn't like this at all, though. She knew. She didn't really care about looking like a punk. In fact, it went against her every instinct. She wanted to blend, to sink in. A normal, average looking girl suited her. No one paid much attention to that kind of girl. This wasn't an expression of who she was. This felt novel. She felt like a lying bastard, actually.

Entering Akira Mado's door was kind of interesting. There wasn't as much security as she thought there would be. Perhaps the RC scanners she'd encountered on this floor removed the need. They hadn't caught onto the inhibitors yet.

"Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Tomoe Ayama. I'm 20 years old, and I don't really know what ward I'm from. Probably the 13th. You don't really need to know much more about me, well, other than the fact that I was able to fool your high level security system into thinking I was a first class investigator, sweet talk your military trained receptionist, stroll in here, and gain entrance into your offices. Disclaimer, I've been hyped up on RC boosting drugs for the last few weeks, and I've also gone through your scanners undetected. Makes my arm holes feel a little bit faster, you know."

"You-"

"Yea, I also slashed your tires too. I know that's excessive. But it seemed like the proper thing to do."

"What exactly-"

"Do I want? Or hope to prove. Well, um, I want to catch ghouls. Ghouls killed my father. I'm in better shape than almost any employee you have here. And you don't have to trust me with one of your quinques. Make me a low class investigator with some punk. I'll make him into a hero. We'll be useful to each other, eventually. I'll be back in a week, leave my badge with the receptionist."

The walk out of that office and down the elevator made Touka want to throw up. She did, a little bit in her mouth. But she couldn't throw up in a CCG elevator. Who knows what they could find if they examined it. Did the inhibitor go that far deep? The inhibitor, she remembered.

She took this chance to shoot up.

It had gone as she rehearsed. It allowed her to avoid having a conversation with Akira Mado. The idea of having a conversation with that woman made her want to kill just about every dove in the building, as well as cry a great deal. This way, she avoided that. Even if she didn't get a job, she at least got their attention. She probably looked a little bit like an idiot though. But there wasn't anyone stopping her, yet.

The feeling that she was going to throw up subsided when the doors open. Her stomach felt warm, like a fresh meal. She could almost smell that warm feeling. It made her body feel much more alive. She smiled.

It was this smile that made her look up. Confidence made her do that. Deep down, she probably wanted people to see this side of her. Maybe it made her look a little less average. It was at this point her day was usually ruined.

She saw Juuzou Suzuya, his jet black hair and crazy wide eyes dancing around the CCG lobby, laughing. He permeated evil. The sick feeling returned. She saw him put his hands in somebody's pockets. She wondered if the guy he was talking to knew those hands were the hands of a sadistic asshole who'd torn apart families with a big smile and the scythe of a grim reaper. Did he know hell was so close? Of course he did, these bastards always do. He was probably scum too. She saw him turn around, and look at her face straight on.

He was the worst scum of all.

Haise saw Juuzou coming from pretty far away, perhaps more than a mile. That's why he was so anxious that morning. It wasn't his partner, it was the feeling he'd get robbed again. He kept his snacks in his pockets specifically for Juuzou. Sure, Haise wanted to eat them, the chocolate filled treats he'd made, but if Juuzou ever caught him without any kind of sweets in his pockets, he didn't want to think of how many humans and ghouls would die alike.

"HAISE! I heard you lost your job! Why'd you do that silly?"

"I guess I'm just not as good as you Juuzou eh. I kind of have to get going you know…"

"WAIT!"

Juuzou stuffed his hands his Haise's pockets. This always felt a little bit strange. And Juuzou was a pretty serious killer of men and women, so it was also a tad scary. He dealt with it by looking the other way.

To look the other way today though, was to look into a woman's eyes. He read from across the lobby the eyes of a liar, in kind of a good way though. She looked scary, like a punk. Entirely unfamiliar. Those people usually made fun of Haise for his funny suits. But her eyes were a lot more cool than that. They seemed, nice.

They were smiling too. They made his stomach feel warm.