So~, I was behind a bit on :re, then I saw some spoilers and had a character death ruined for me only to be like 'wtf I'm trying to break Domino from cannon!' But that's not why you're here. In honor of so much sh!t hitting the fan I'm putting in a bit more drama here w/ Ken, Shuu, and Touka. Also, for the record, I called Kaene being transgender/a girl in diguess. She pulled a Haruhi (OHHC) on us and just for sh!ts and giggles I'll be including her in future chapters. *Wink Wink* Oh, and there is a moment where an adult kisses a child on the lips in a very unsexual way, just so you don't freek out when you see it.

*Ahem*, One last thing… STYLISH! That is all.

Kill the Assumption

The Web, 7:44 am

Kaneki was vaguely aware of his limp body, the occasional spasm in his fingers or the slight moan that assailed his ears in the quiet stillness evidenced his half awake state. He could feel the blows, hallow over his torso, stinging in his limbs. The small voice in his mind screaming, begging her to stop. That woman, who was supposed to love him unconditionally, rained down strike, after strike, after strike. She always had an explosive temper, but rarely took it out on anyone. He was the exception, always.

'Mother' would beat lessons into his flesh, crying or raving like a mad woman. Somewhere inside he'd always know why his father wasn't around. She'd run him off, or worse. Kaneki, little, fragile, innocent Kaneki had been through too much for someone so young. Perhaps, the sweetest of ironies was that in doing this, she had prepared him mentally and physically for much worse abuse in Jason's play room. She was his example of a cruel hypocrite, and he was the same. He wanted to be loved, but he was more than that whore would ever be.

As his mind flushed with anger, the nightmarish image of what his mother became faded away into locks of long purple hair and red rimmed glasses. A familiar scent, masked by the clouded haze of dreams flooded his mouth and nose. "Rize," he murmured into what was likely a pillow. His memories filled in the void of feeling and he drifted into a more peaceful rest.

Kaneki was five and the alley walls sloped high into the night. The cobble beneath his curled up body felt sharp, cold, and miserably wet. Miniature tributaries formed as the sky cried with him. Though tears slid down his face, he bore a grin. 'Mother' was dead, worked herself to death, dumping him with his bitch of an aunt. He cried as he grinned, and grinned as he remembered. Remembered the way that intolerable woman had screamed. He closed his eyes, clenching his little fists, feeling the knife's handle snugly in hand. His fat, pig like older cousin had been a much more logical target than she'd been. He even squealed like one every time Kaneki had plunged the knife into his side.

Kaneki tried to sit up, wincing at old bruises and fresh cuts. Yes, he cried, only because he wasn't able to finish the job. He knew full well that he was one fucked up kid, but that's what the capital does to people, isn't it? Giving up on getting up, the raven-haired boy rolled onto his back and lifted the dripping blade up to the sky, as if presenting a present to a proud parent.

There was a twinge of disappointment seeing the steel no longer coated in a thick, red, liquid. 'It is better to be hurt than to hurt others,' what a joke. Hurting others meant avoiding hurting yourself. If this shitty existence was all he was ever going to have then he'd rather die. 'Yes,' he thought, 'I want to die, but not quietly. Some nobody kid in an alley somewhere, just like every other random victim found on the odd thursday. I want to be seen, to be loved, to die on the stage.'

He had always been infatuated with his father's dark novels, a certain play was of particular interest, and he felt that he himself was the subject of some tragedy, for his life could be nothing else. 'My life is worthless,' Kaneki mused. "Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying… nothing." The hand holding his knife dropped onto the slick stone next to him.

The bereift boy hadn't heard footsteps in the night, light and quick, lingering a short distance from his head. "That's Shakespeare's Macbeth, yes?" It was a smooth female voice that caused his smile to drop, assuming on instinct a pleasant neutral expression that had saved him from adding to his growing collection of scars. Her head dipped into his view. Even as a child he knew her to be beautiful, but not just in the physical sense.

"Yes," his voice had taken on another survival tack, that is a monotonous pitch, unreadable in all cadence.

"Why are you lying on the streets? A little boy like you should be home by now." Though she sounded playful, poison laced the words. It would have been lost on anyone other than himself.

"I don't have a home, not since… " he trailed off, catching himself before he'd said too much.

"Don't tell me your mama died? No papa then either, I'd dare to wager." She knelt down, her long wetted hair forming a veil so that the whole world consisted of their faces. "Well, if you've got no place else to go, do you want to come home with me?"

"No." She looked taken aback by his abrupt answer. "My mother told me not to go anywhere with strangers."

"Hmm, if I introduce myself I wouldn't be a stranger anymore, would I?"

"I suppose not, but I still don't trust you."

"Oh you're a clever one aren't you," she fawned briefly, giving his cheek a painful pinch. "Kamishiro Rize," she declared, offering him her hand.

"Kaneki Ken." Her's was so much larger than his own tiny mit. It even seemed that she picked her hand across from his knife as to have an excuse to examine it.

"Where did you get such a thing Kaneki-chan?"

"Don't call me that. My aunt's kitchen. My cousin was annoying me and she was being a bitc- erm… rude."

"Is that why there's blood on it?" Rize whispered, looking intently into Kaneki's ash-grey eyes. He nodded for her and she chuckled. "I like you already Ken; can I call you that at least?"

"Okay."

"Come with me?"

He took her hand again and let her lift him off the slicked stones, settling into her arms. Though her body was warm against his diminutive, shivering form, something about her was so cold.

The Capital, Kamishiro Residence, c.a. 20 years ago

Rize had been nice to Kaneki since she'd carried him off. He'd never seen her cook, nor eat before, and he knew that for long periods of time she wouldn't eat at all. Even though he had been living with her for more than a year, the half decade of abuse still showed on his pale skin.

Her house was expansive, which was nice, but his favorite place was the library. The Kamishiro residence was almost solely devoted to the space. Rize would spend her at home hours there and Kaneki was allowed to come in whenever he wished. He couldn't help but feel that this was what a mother should be like.

Kaneki had always been fast on the uptake for subjects like literature and history; certainly he was more well read than children twice his age. Rize took a special interest in teaching him even more, hiring tutors to give him a rounded education in mathematics, philosophy, and the arts as well. In a word, Rize was an heiress, most of her time working was spent in her private study.

He would sneak into Rize's study- though he never managed to surprise her- place a book on her desk, and climb into her lap. His behavior would never have been so bold before, but he quickly learned that they shared an interest in dark novels and to estimate when she needed breaks from managing the estate. She would wrap one arm around his waist and read to him. Sometimes they'd read the book together, Kaneki taking children and young men while Rize read for women and older men. She always sounded funny trying to deepen her voice.

Today though, Kaneki had been reading by himself. He'd just showered and picked out a sunny spot to dry off faster. Rize came in, and the boy could tell she wasn't acting right even from a distance. He placed the book down cautiously, moving slowly. He'd seen this only once before when she hadn't eaten for a while. She was walking briskly over to him, her irises shining bright red. Kaneki stood, doing his best to remain calm. The realization that Rize was going to eat him washed coldly through his limbs as she gripped his shoulders like a vice and stared into his grey eyes, her own burning with hunger and madness.

He was paralyzed but that was fine. He was afraid but that was fine. He was going to die, to be eaten, but that was fine too. At least Kaneki could die knowing that Rize would remember him, the one who wasn't running, the one who didn't care, the one who thought of her as 'mother'. Rize had replaced the previous woman to be called 'mother' from the day they'd met.

She hummed, leaning forward to sniff at his freshly washed skin, his hair still damp from the shower. Her fingers dug painfully into his shoulders, drawing blood, but he didn't cry, or move at all for that matter. He saw her, and she saw him. The death he expected didn't come however. Her eyes' mad ravings of hunger vanished, confusion and hurt flashing in their depths. Kaneki, who she likely expected to be, if nothing else, fighting back, was standing, unflinching, unwavering, staring her down with only a hint of sadness in his own eyes.

Rize was rooted to her spot, seemingly lost in their darkness. His slow movement surprising them both. Kaneki's little arms wrapped gently around her waist, dropping his forehead onto her shoulder. "It's okay. Eat me, I don't mind. At least my worthless life will be put to a good use." It was true, and it hurt that it was true. Rize wasn't human, he'd figured that out long ago, and then he decided that it didn't matter what she was, because she'd loved him and that in the end was what he needed, what he wanted. So what if the stage wasn't huge, and the audience consisted of one. That one person would remember him.

"Ken," her voice hardly more than a whisper near his ear. Her vice grip slackened. She pulled him back, before leaning in and pressing her soft lips to his, her tears slipping from their home. He felt his eyes widen in shock while her warm breath pooled over his face. "I'm sorry," her voice cracked as she pulled back again, suppressing more tears. "Oh, my dear Ken, I'm so, so sorry." Rize clutched his tiny chest against her own. He could feel the vibrations of silent sobs ripping free. She cried freely into his shoulder.

He didn't know what compelled him, but he placed a palm on her cheek, wiping away the stream of saltwater. Her eyes, deep pools of back with a red flower blooming in her irises drew out everything he thought of her in a single word, "Beautiful." Her brows tipped up in an agonized joy. "Please, don't apologize, Mama*." He returned to hugging her in time to feel the sharp breath she inhaled.

"Ken. Oh, Ken. My wonderful little boy, my darling, my treasure! I will protect you always. You'll never have to face this awful world without me, I promise. I'll keep you safe, always…" she started sobbing again, "always."

Present, The Capital, CCG HQ: Lab, 8:23 am

"Ah~! What a stylish space!" A wild grin spread over his features, arms raised to the arched ceiling, gazing at the clean, stylized architecture.

"I'm glad you are enjoying our facilities, doctor, but perhaps we can get down to the matter at hand, Sasaki Haise, The Centipede."

"Don't interrupt me when I'm taking in a new work environment, Mr. Chairman; it is very poor form." Stylish adjusted his teigu gloves thoughtfully, making a thorough study of the CCG's laboratory. Every surface, metal or stone, had been polished to a shine and sterilized. Equipment leagues ahead of the Empire's weapons development awaited use in designated areas. Various platforms separated study areas, encouraging an efficient flow to work. Each inch of the massive underground chamber was replete with scientists all bustling about their own projects. Several corpses that had been badly mangled were laid out on the tables in the nearest station; medical doctors and morticians swarming like maggots, picking them apart. Another station housed a large rifle of some kind with a number of men working at adjusting the materials it was crafted out of.

There was a certain homeyness about the laboratory and, perhaps the best of all, the CCG was a contracted military with full permission to develop and test their own technology, meaning no regulations. Every manner of human experimentation, within reason, was permitted by their board. Admittedly, he'd been surprised when Prime Minister Honest asked him to join their military contractor's R&D department. Stylish would never admit to anyone that he'd not even known the CCG had one, though he doubted anyone else would have known of it either.

Stylish let out a slow breath before returning his gaze to the aged, and rather cross looking, Chairman. "Are you really going to stop every five feet to marvel at something or other?" The older man gruff voice scraped away some of the Doctor's serenity.

"I apologize for my bluntness, but before three days ago, I'd no idea your CCG was anything more than an overpriced mercenary police force making toy guns." As the old man's brow dipped into a scowl Stylish raised his hands in a placating gesture, "Of course I was mistaken in such an assumption. This is simply remarkable and I'm absolutely elated to be here."

"Ehrm," the Chairman straightened his age curled shoulders, "Well then, if you would like to get started on your work here we can have a station set up for you. In the meantime, get to know some of your new colleagues. I'd sent a missive to Dr. Kanou asking him to return from his retirement and assist our investigations but he declined; don't forget you're not our first choice, Stylish, and I can easily replace you if we don't get results."

His polite grin faded at the old man's words. "I assure you that I'll get results."

A nod was the only indication that he'd been heard as his new director shuffled off.

"Oh, I'll get results alright…" Stylish glared daggers into the senile fool's back contemplating all the different awful things he could inflict when a tap on his shoulder snapped him to attention. A rather shabby, average looking, middle aged man with bangs that seemed to obscure his vision grinned at Stylish before offering his hand.

"Hello, you must be the new blood. I'm Doctor Chigyou, head researcher. I look forward to working with you."

"Hello, I'm Dr. Stylish, nice to meet you. May I inquire about where I'm stationed?"

"Ah that," he gave a half hearted laugh and scratched his chin, "ya'see, we've been having some problems with a certain renegade group, you've already been briefed on them an-"

"Ah, actually I wasn't. I believe my wonderment may have irritated the Chairman before he'd fully explained the situation."

"That's unfortunate...Hm. Okay, I'll start at the beginning, come with me." Chigyou didn't even wait for Stylish to start following and began to briskly walk away. He didn't get far before Stylish jogged up on his right. "So, the CCG was originally founded by the Chairman's family over a century ago and has since then become a mercantile force for the Empire, training elite police to secure the Capital during times of war and protecting it from internal conflicts. For a while, nearly since its' inception, the CCG has been dedicated to research and development of weapons and medical technology, furthering our goal to maintain and protect the Empire. We are a separate entity, however, allowing for free reign in what we spend on. Like all institutions we have investors who urge for certain products and receive… samples upon occasion."

Stylish glanced through curtains as they passed workstation after workstation, catching glimpses of a few live human test subjects before coming to a stop alongside Chigyou. Before them was a raised platform on which was a glass prison. Inside a naked young man, thin and sickly in appearance stumbled around in circles. He had very bad injuries along his back just like many of the corpses the doctor had seen earlier.

Stylish couldn't help but feel a boiling excitement in his stomach; there was no way someone in such a poor condition could be alive with those wounds, yet here he was, drooling and wandering in circles around the perimeter of his cage. There was some incomprehensible hunger in the youth's eyes, the dull verdant pools overflowing with madness and pain.

"This is one of our recent prisoners. Subject 12204. Before you ask, no we don't know how he got injured, nor how he is alive at present. Despite the nature of such injuries, and that every other suspect captured died from them, they don't help in identifying the cause. As a specialist on human augmentation, we were hoping that you'd be able to provide advisement." Chigyou was looking down at some data charts he had on the imprisoned figure.

"Is that rot?" Stylish had only been half listening and walked closer to the structure. The wounds on Subject 12204's back were clearly festering, pus and other vile body fluids coagulated along his exposed spine. The torn skin and muscle tissue dangled in little chunks towards the lower half of the injury. His eyes locked with the subject's now no longer vacant stare. It started salivating more, every muscle seemed to tense in its' body as Stylish got closer.

"Yes, the infection seems to be killing hi- Ah! Stylish! Get back he going to-"

A loud, feral shriek cut Chigyou off as it charged at Stylish, slamming into the glass wall. The glasses wearing doctor leapt back with the sudden crack and give of the youth's prison. He was left to stare into wild, inhuman eyes as it slobbered and lifted its' fist for another blow on the caving glass.

"Quick! Close the shutters! The subject is waking up!"

A large, thick metal sheet slammed down over each of the glass walls. There was a panicked pounding from the other side, coupled with more enraged and maddened gibberish. All of the scientists had momentarily stopped their work, each a mixture of petrified and eager evident on their faces, much the same as Stylish himself. "What was that?"

"We're not sure, to be honest. He's the only one to survive this long but all the other subjects showed either extreme lethargy or extreme aggression with no clear pattern in age or gender." He placed a hand on Stylish's shoulder, pulling him back over a line he hadn't noticed before. "Rarely they say something coherent but it's all mad ramblings in the end." The screaming and pounding died down as the seconds dragged on. "As far as we know, it's some kind of artificial tiegu, at least that's the most logical theory at the moment."

Stylish returned his gaze to the metal sheets and his eyes widened despite himself. There were several shallow dents in the plate where it had been hit from the other side. Faint muttering was heard in the stillness that followed, "Ahgh, I-I'm so… so hngu… hungry. I-I… it hurts. Ugha, p-praise him… wa- we who a-are his fury."

"Praise him, we who are his fury?"

"You heard him too then. They all said that, or left some other message written in their own blood before they died. We think it's a reference to Sasaki Haise, the current leader of this group. The subjects are suspected members of the Circle. He took over after we finally hunted down Owl, the previous leader. Kanou actually still has the old man's body if I'm not mistaken. Unfortunately we failed at exterminating the remaining members when Sasaki took over. All our inside men disappeared or were killed and they completely reworked their methods, making it impossible to track them. Poof! They all vanished, but make no mistake, Dr. Stylish, these… things are still out there, and they want nothing more than to kill us all."

"Things?"

Chigyou dropped his voice so only Stylish could here, "Don't go letting it affect your work but… you've seen Subject 12204's eyes right? Do you honestly believe that those were human eyes? Black and red like that, and then there's the very fact that he can do that much damage," he subtly gestured to the dented steel with a flick of his fingers, "while severely injured." The scientist shuddered slightly. "I'm going to visit Kanou personally for the next few days. He's been studying these occurrences in more detail from a biological standpoint. I feel we can crack this thing with the two of you working together."

"I see. What am I to do in the lab while you're gone."

"I'll be putting you in charge of him," he pointed to the sealed container, "and the other bodies. Do what you think needs to be done. I'll be back before the end of the week." With that he dismissed himself to pack and Stylish grinned to himself. He now had free reign of the laboratory.

"I wonder what kind of Advanced soldiers I could make with those." The research opportunities were limitless.

michelous- readers like you make my whole week, Thank you

Imperial warlord- Great to hear from you again! Also, please stop guessing my plot, wha~! It makes it harder to surprise you. Though your ability to glean context clues is outstanding. I've got a puzzle for you, if you feel like giving it a try. "Dxwsl bpf gklq'i dkpqy, W ogq gjjfkl bpf ixgi Ijftwbgrg dwss xgel g rgvpk ngki ip nsgb wq ixl zfifkl, gspqy dwix Lip gqu Igijfrw. Wi dwss hl gi ixl yxpfs kljigfkgqi, hfi qpi gj bpf xgel uljokwhlu wi."

(I've been watching too much Gravity Falls)

*Just a thing in my head, but I think one reason why Rize didn't nom on Kaneki, aside from plot armor and his natural Charisma there, is he reminded her of the child she lost. (Yes, I envision Rize as being a mother before and her binge eating caused the CCG to hunt her down. Being strong as she was, she was able to fend them off with relative ease while her mate fled with their child. He and the child are killed. When Kaneki calls her 'Mama' she cries harder because she's been given another child to raise and mend her broken heart. (This would also be the first time Kaneki has called her any form of mother) Also, it should be pretty obvious that even in death, Rize keeps her promise to Kaneki. 3 & /3