Sorry I haven't been responding to messages lately, classes are resuming and slow-down is imminent.
The world keeps on turning, even without Hagi in it.
Meika feels like it isn't fair.
A couple quiet weeks go by. She's still half-asleep when Kazuichi knocks on her door one morning, early enough that the sun hasn't risen over the horizon yet. She's hesitant to untangle herself from the nest of blankets she huddled in over the table the previous night, but another, louder knock has her on her feet.
She throws the door open, a cup of instant coffee in her free hand. Kazuichi's expression becomes distressed when he sees the dark circles under her half-lidded, bloodshot eyes and the fine tremor in her fingers as she shakily brings the cup to her lips for another sip. She's wearing sweatpants and a tank top without a bra underneath, and he respectfully doesn't let his gaze wander too low. She could almost laugh; Kazuichi is too nice for the sort of life he leads.
"You're early," she notes, backing up to let him in and then dropping down at the table to rest her weight on one elbow. "You're gonna have to give me a minute to really wake up."
"You okay?" he asks slowly, "Not sure I want your hands anywhere near my hair if they're doing that."
"It'll stop soon," she assures him, taking another long gulp.
He drops down on the crate across from her, eyes full of concern. "I wasn't sure you'd be up, actually."
"Having trouble sleeping. A lot's happened."
"A lot? Like what?"
"Other than Hagi," she says, pausing when he averts his gaze almost guiltily, "My neighbors have been talking about me lately. Guess having clients in here at all hours of the day is finally getting a little suspicious. I hope nobody calls the CCG."
Kazuichi noticeably tenses at the mention of the name.
Meika rolls her shoulders until they give a satisfying pop, and then stands to assemble her workstation, abandoning her half-empty coffee. She calls him over to the sink once she finds her shampoo and has him lean in face-first. "Alright, your turn," she says, "Tell me something interesting. How're things on your end?"
"Not great," he says, "Hagi really held things together around here. Ward's starting to go to shit without him. People have been seeing a lot of doves around, too, more than usual. Probably scrambling so the 11th ward doesn't turn into the 13th."
"It'd have to get pretty fucking bad for that," Meika scoffs, starting the water and raking a hand over his scalp, "You thinking of leaving? Maybe following Rize?"
He's silent for a moment as she lathers shampoo in her hands. "No. I thought I'd stay," he says at last, "She told me something the day she left, you know. She called me "leader." Said she thought she could leave the ward with me. So I think I'm gonna try it. Keeping the peace, and all that."
Meika gives a sharp bark of laughter before it even crosses her mind that she's being insensitive. "Yeah, okay. You do that."
Kazuichi frowns. "I'm serious."
"My condolences, then. I'm not trying to make fun of you, Banjou, but the ward going to shit isn't news. Even before Hagi died—"
Killed by your girlfriend, she thinks bitterly, shaking her head,
"—things were getting worse."
"I gotta try, though, right?"
Meika almost tells him that no, he absolutely does not need to undertake something so hopeless, but he's got this tone that he gets whenever he talks about Rize, all dreamy and elated, and she knows she won't be able to change his mind. "Yeah," she agrees with a sigh, "Guess someone has to."
She rinses his hair and puts a towel around his shoulders, ushering him back to the table. "Hey, Banjou," she asks suddenly, "What's it taste like?"
He plays dumb, eyes widening a bit. "What…what's what taste like?"
"Wow, I wonder. What's the only thing you eat?"
He hesitates. "It's hard to explain," he says, "I mean, to me it's good, but you probably wouldn't like it."
"But what does it taste like? Is it sweet? Savory? A little salty?"
"Depends…" On the person, he doesn't say, but Meika imagines she hears it. "Why? You…you wanna try it or something?"
She shrugs. "You know I live on a diet of cup ramen and fermented soybeans; mixing it up wouldn't be so bad. Remember that time you tried a bowl on a dare? I thought I'd never get the smell of vomit out of here. I aired this place out for three weeks."
"To be fair, every food you eat is going to taste awful to me."
"Yeah," she laughs, "But that in particular tastes awful to me, too."
Kazuichi looks at her warily. "I mean, if you're serious…."
"I was kidding, Banjou. I'm not going to eat anyone."
"I'm just making sure. I heard there was a human around here who tried once."
"Yeah, and the investigators came knocking and ripped him into unrecognizable pieces. Said they 'just needed to be sure.' If the CCG hates ghouls who eat humans, there's not a word to describe how they feel about humans who eat humans." She smiles. "Which is a real shame, because otherwise, I'd give it a shot. Sometimes I get tired of soybeans and cup noodles."
"You've always been a little weird, Meika. Even we're a little uncomfortable about cannibalism."
Meika shrugs. "Ghouls still eat their own kind sometimes, don't they? Isn't the 13th ward famous for that?" She makes a few quick snips. "And done. Now go keep the peace or whatever."
He stands up, but hesitates to leave, fishing through his pocket for his wallet. "Here," he says, handing her a few bills, "Treat yourself."
"Whoa, this is a lot more than two hundred yen."
"Humans need to eat balanced meals, right?" he asks, "So ramen and soybeans all the time can't be good. And all that coffee…you drink more than I do."
"Food," she scoffs, snatching the money from him. "Ha! Who needs it?"
"Meika."
"I heard you." Her expressions oftens. "Thanks. Hey, and Mr. Leader? Why don't you start telling everyone to follow your example and pay me a little more?"
He gives a genuine smile at that, the first one she's seen on him in a while, one that tells her he isn't broken yet. "Be careful," he says as he leaves, like always.
"You, too," Meika says in turn, wondering if things might turn out alright after all.
Even without Hagi.
There's an unsettling silence in the 11th ward, different from the time spent mourning Hagi's passing. Humans, too, are silent as they hurry home, unwilling to outside any longer than necessary. When she reaches the convenience store a few blocks away, she overhears a pair of middle-aged women speaking in hushed tones by a magazine rack, muttering about Shikao Kurita, the ward head.
"I heard on the news last night that he's working with the CCG to get things under control around here," one says.
The other scoffs, "The hell he is. If things were actually getting better, don't you think he'd be here instead of hiding in his penthouse in the 12th ward?"
Meika sets her purchases down on the counter and the young man working the register rings her up.
"I'm getting out of here," she hears the first woman say, "Before the whole ward comes crumbling down. You should, too."
Her friend lets out a sound of agreement. "Believe me, I will. Anyone with any sense isn't going to stick around."
Meika inwardly laughs as she sets the money Kazuichi gave her down on the counter and takes her change. "Guess I've got no sense," she mutters, taking her bagged groceries and leaving.
A man called Tanaka who lost his job in the recession and never got back on his feet sits by his stolen shopping cart that holds his entire life just outside the train station. "Meika," he calls out to her with a wave, and hurriedly pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket, "Tracked down that place you were looking for."
"Thanks so much," she says, fishing through her bag for the box of rice balls handing it to him in exchange for the paper. She glances down at the string of numbers and an address scrawled on it and smiles. "You don't know how much this means to me."
"I think I can guess."
She laughs. "Hear anything interesting lately?"
He looks up appreciatively, opening the box and immediately tearing into the food. "Not a lot," he says between mouthfuls, "Those suits say they're "mobilizing," like always. Hear they got quite the scare the other night; someone broke into the CCG's northern branch office."
"Broke in? That's all? They didn't take anything or kill anyone?"
Tanaka shrugs. "That's what I heard."
Broke in, she muses. If it were a human, she'd expect little more than vandalism, but it seems strange that someone would just break in and leave. Almost like they were testing the waters, seeing if they could do it.
"How've you been?" Tanaka asks, "You been taking care of yourself? You look a little skinny." He grabs her wrist with a frown. "And your hands are shaking."
"Too much caffeine and not enough sleep."
"What're you doing that for?"
"Lost someone."
His expression softens. "I'm sorry to hear that."
She cracks a humorless smile. "I'll live."
"Don't do that, Meika. You always bottle everything up."
"It's been a few weeks; I've had time to mourn."
His stare is hard, fixed on the dark circles and redness around her eyes. "Go home," he says, shooing her away, "Get some sleep. Your mother would be furious if she knew how you do your mourning."
"Alright, Dad." The words are playful with a touch of affection, and Tanaka smiles almost proudly.
"I can't claim the honor."
"Might as well; you were always better at it than my real one."
"That's not hard to do."
She laughs. "Fair enough. Take care."
"You, too."
Tanaka settles in with his food and Meika glances back at him worriedly. Humans aren't at the top of the food chain by any means, but the homeless of Tokyo are in a particularly dangerous position, ignored by the government and, if the rumors are to be believed, allowed to loiter where it was once forbidden to serve as one last line of defense for other citizens. Tanaka hasn't had the same neighbors for more than a few months at a time, since vagabonds don't feel comfortable staying in the same place for so long, but it doesn't make much of a different where they go. They're food, ambling about when the rest of the 11th ward is tucked away safely in their homes for the night. It's only a matter of time before she'll have to do some more mourning.
She rids herself of the thought and hurries home, taking out the slip of paper and carefully reading over the number written on it before making a phone call. There are only two rings before a man answers with a gruff, "Hello?"
"Hi, I'm calling to inquire about a storage unit," Meika says, trying to sound professional, "I was recommended to you by a friend. May I ask where you're located?"
"Thirteenth ward," the man replies, and Meika's frown deepens. There aren't words to properly describe the state of affairs in the 13th ward. The ghouls there are nearly feral, unrestrained by the laws of civilization and ruled only by whichever among them has killed the most. Efforts to place the local CCG branch as the new governing body in a last ditch effort to reclaim the ward ended in failure when they were completely decimated in a number of nights. Every business left has been bought out by criminal organizations and their subsidiaries who operate freely with no law enforcement in the way. The ward is famous for ghoul cannibalism and most remaining human residents are assumed to be human fugitives from the law looking to disappear for a while. The average person has no reason to go there.
But Meika has already made up her mind.
"Oh." She recovers quickly. "Well, I was wondering if you had any lockers whose owners haven't come back for a while."
"You looking to buy?"
Meika hesitates. "Yeah."
"Well, we've got plenty of those," the man goes on, and Meika hears some rustling on the other end of the line. "Standard pricing is ￥80,000 for all the contents. We've got full-size and half-size—!"
"Is there a locker there that used to belong to Lin Zhou?" Meika interrupts.
The man falls silent for a moment. Then he asks, very quietly, "You a cop?"
"No."
"CCG?"
"No," Meika repeats, exasperated, "I just want to buy her locker. Did she have one there or not?"
"Yeah, she had one."
"80,000's a bit steep, though, can you go for 60,000?"
"I don't haggle," the man says dryly, "80,000, take it or leave it."
Meika bites her lip. "I'll be by sometime," she says, and hangs up. Her relief at finally tracking down her mother's belongings is washed away by disappointment—she doesn't have that kind of money. But she's so close now, closer than she's ever been before, and she decides she'll just have to get it from somewhere.