The storage space below decks had officially been cordoned off, now off limits to the crew and their stowaways.

So the two groups of people were left to stay together until the ship could dock, unable to continue as it should have done due to obvious circumstances. It was understandably awkward, though, luckily, the ship's crew did not make any reports about the kids and did not seem to hate them even if they had broken the law. They, silently though unanimously, put it down to Ichigo's efforts that had successfully saved all of them from their murderous ex-coworker.

The first conversation between the group was held a few hours after the police had left with Sara in tow, after she had spoken those words that had made even Ichigo who had numerous experiences with death and the people that brought it about freeze up.

No one had really spoken since, aside from hushed whispers amongst themselves that barely passed lips in anything aside from an incoherent or disjointed manner. But, at the time for dinner, prepared by the shaky hands of the cook who had brought out the food with him as he sat down at whatever space he could find on the already overcrowded table.

The cook found himself sitting right across from a pair of disconcerting eyes that stared at him intently from a scowling face.

Soon after he found himself wishing he had found space absolutely anywhere else.

But it seemed as though the entirety of the table had purposely shied from that spot, leaving it the only one available to him.

It may have taken a while, but conversation eventually surfaced, beginning in the form of a string of unconfident thanks to the scowling teen who did not seem sure as to how to receive them.

His shoulders moved upwards, his deep-set scowl lessening before completely fading to be replaced with a funny sort of expression that was more than a little bit uncomfortable.

"Umm…" he ran a hand through the already messy orange hair that sat on his head, spiked up and pointing his way and that "It's alright, I guess."

"Alright?" Theo laughed almost incredulously "Alright? You saved all of us!"

"I guess," Ichigo responded.

"Just accept our thanks!" Mike told him, flinging out his arms, hands still shaking slightly.

"But are the conditions behind the thanks a little bit… off?"

"You saved our lives. I'd call it more of a stroke of luck than anything."

Ichigo sighed.

"That's why," Theo spoke loudly, his booming voice filling the space "We've decided to help you." he addressed the group of uncomfortable kids and teenagers collectively.

"How?" Fang asked, eyes narrowed as he looked over the crew with a significant lack of trust; a rather funny thing considering he was one of the ones who had been hiding below decks without their knowledge for a while.

The man smiled widely, the kindly grin juxtaposing the rest of his appearance entirely "That's easy," he told their group, not at all deterred by Fang's less than friendly reception to the proposition of their gift, nor Max's untrusting eyes or Ichigo's ever present scowl "If you're stowing away on a ship, surely you have somewhere to go."

He smiled again, mouth closed this time around, as Angel looked up at him. The clear blue eyes were covered and uncovered in rapid succession as she blinked, long, black eyelashes fluttering.

"You're going to help us?" her voice was soft and gentle but the flock, sans Iggy, could see it in the focus on her face that was, to them, poorly concealed: she was digging through his mind, turning over corners and uncovering intentions. It seemed, when the tight line of her lips loosened marginally, that she had placed him in the clear.

With a glance over at Angel that lasted a little bit longer than Max could understand, Ichigo decided it would be in their best interests to listen, even if, as always, things should be taken with a grain of salt - just because this man was kind and convinced he and the rest of the crew were helping didn't mean it was a sentiment shared amongst all of them.

"That's why we've decided, when we dock, we'll all chip in a little to buy you plane tickets to wherever it is you're headed!"

The thought was much appreciated but Ichigo found a bit of a flaw in the whole thing. How were they meant to pass through the x-rays in airports with wings on their backs?

"Would you mind," he began, sincerely praying they would not "Exchanging those for tickets for a boat?"

Theo seemed confused but gave no signs of reluctance when he answered "I guess. By why would you not want to go by plane when it's so much faster?"

Ichigo hadn't prepared an answer so he looked to his left and began to adlib "Well, the thing is, Fang's scared of heights…" the boy in question sent him a glare, dark eyes burning, but did not voice his displeasure because he didn't want to compromise the situation.

"Fang?" the chef questioned "One of you kids is actually called Fang?"

Fang scowled again as Ichigo barely caught his snicker.

"I don't suppose you caught our names, did you?" Nudge said in the same rapid speed common in her speech, the words rolling off her tongue as though she were running out of time to say them. Her smile widened as she saw the series of nods and contemplative expressions that meant she had an excuse to continue speaking.

"I'm Nudge," She told them, pushing a bit of hair behind her ear. The crew made sure not to comment on what they were sure would be a series of rather odd names "this is Fang," the boy in question gazed at the dully through eyes as dark as the hair that, in places, was beginning to fall over them as it seemed terribly overgrown, as she further alerted them of a fact of which they were already aware "this is Max," The eldest girl waved, eliciting a comment from a middle-aged woman who had, until that point, remained nameless.

"That's an odd name for a girl,"

"Short for Maximum," max informed curtly.

Despite not being supplied much of an answer, the woman smiled and introduced herself politely as Anna as Nudge began again after having been cut off.

"Iggy," The blind boy did not look at the group, but his thin, pale face lit up with smile even if his milky eyes did remain entirely blank "Gazzy," the blonde boy, dreadfully young to be in the situation in which he had found himself, smiled at them, crooked teeth boldly put on display "His little sister Angel," the girl was angelic in appearance as her name would suggest, but she was younger still "and Ichigo." She finished, gesturing to the boy who had restrained Sara who stared at them impassively, not bothering to exchange his scowl for a polite smile, as he waved at them uncomfortably.

"Nice to meet you all." the chef said as the crew took their turn for introductions.

"We'll be docking in a couple of days," he told them later as he showed the around the ship, noticing how the group, sans the talkative girl, nudge, lagged behind a little, walking with shuffling footsteps that betrayed the intention behind the slow pace "Until then you'll need a place to sleep. We've got a couple of cabins spare but you'll have to share. Boys to one, girls to the other; does that sound okay?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Max dismissed with a shrug, designated to speak due to her role as head of the flock.

"Says you," Fang sounded bitter, speaking in hushed tones that conveyed much more in venom than they did in volume "you don't have to share a room with him." he jerked his head in a way that was not at all discreet.

"You're just paranoid, he's not as bad as you think."

"I don't trust him."

"Or like me," Ichigo cut in after he sneezed loudly enough to make the chef turn to observe the conversation "as you constantly make very apparent. If you don't want to stay with me, I'm sure the hallways is always free."

Fang scowled but remained silent, right up until he followed Ichigo into the room offered to them. The chef closed the door behind them as Ichigo flicked on the light. Gazzy looked around the room, at the one bed and the two chair sitting in the room, a chest of draws shoved into one corner, a few written notices on the wall that not one of them wished to occupy their time reading.

Without a word, Ichigo flung himself into one of the chairs. Fang, with another look of contempt, took to the other, leaving Gazzy and Iggy to share the bed.

When they woke up the following morning, Fang was on the floor, sleeping in a heap of black fabric, ebony hair, and pale skin that looked especially white in the brightness of the light streaming through the random gaps in the curtains covering the lone window.

Ichigo looked at Fang as he woke up, watching the slumped figure of the lone member of the flock who still held such a substantial amount of derision for him it bordered upon antipathy.

"Morning," Ichigo said as he pushed himself up onto his feet, walking towards the bed and waking Gazzy and Iggy as there was a loud knock on their door.

Ichigo looked over at the door before walking over to it, stepping over Fang who was still trying to work out how he had slipped from the chair in such a manner.

"Oh, you're up?" Mike asked from where he stood in their now open doorway.

Ichigo nodded mutely in response.

"Breakfast is in five," Ichigo nodded again as Mike moved away, watching the retreating, wiry frame of the man before leaving himself. Fang, fuming slightly, ran after him, pushing in front of Gazzy and Iggy who were already on their way out.

By pure coincidence, they met with Max, Nudge and Angel as they wandered the straight hallway it would be near impossible to get lost in.

"This has been much more interesting than I planned for it to be," max yawned as she rubbed the sleep from the corners of her eyes. While she received no verbal responses, not even from Nudge as the girl was walking along as though in a sleep-induced daze, she got nods and sighs that confirmed she was not alone in that opinion.

The next morning, they docked at that port, spent a few more hours with the crew on solid ground as the ship was instantly taken upon by authorities who had been waiting for it, waiting for their tickets as the crew attempted to orchestrate their own plans for the time being amongst themselves.

The situation was both very inconvenient and very unlucky, something each of the flock was perhaps a little too acquainted with, Ichigo especially. Tyche seemed to hate him even more than Fang did, and that was saying something.

After a few hours, they were back to sitting by the edge of the water, tickets in hand, alone after the crew's inevitable departure.

The water was just as murky as the last time, rising and falling, crashing upon the beach, made of sand that was almost brown and covered in seemingly rather sharp pebbles and stones, in foaming trails of off-white.

It was crepuscule by the time their scheduled ship arrived, the lilac sky stretching above them with the bright white silhouette of the moon barely visible within it. The water, in its own sort of distorted manner, was reflecting it below them too, though the appearance was much nicer to observe in the vast stretch above them.

It was cold and none of them had winter coats, only light jackets that would not weigh them down too much in their travels as they were typically done by air. The wind that blew around them as though it had a vendetta was damp, carrying with it salty moisture from the great water source that stretched on for many unseen miles before them.

"Well," Ichigo commented dryly "Doesn't seem we'll be breaking the law this time around."

"True," max agreed "But we might seem a bit odd without either an adult or luggage beyond whatever the hell is left in those packs of ours."

Fang, pulling the pack from his back, informed her "Not much."

Gritted teeth, coated with blood from bleeding gums and lips that had never been wiped away, the enamel even stained with an unsettling pinkish hue, was not what one would want to see before death ineluctantly took you. Those gritted teeth, tightly held against one another, easily visible through parted lips covered in a network of oozing cracks, may have been considered a smile had they been paired with eyes less bloodshot, eyes that did not bulge from the face as both they and it warped in the flames of all-consuming insanity, eyes that did not burn and glimmer with the light of a pleasure that was, in such circumstances, entirely inexcusable.

But it was what so many had seen.

Now she was just another one of them, one who had heard the news but distanced herself from it, taken no precaution. Though, she thought as she tried to think of anything but the sharpness of the pain in her side and how much more difficult breathing was becoming as her blood pooled around her like a sea of crimson, taking precautions against one as unpredictable as he was an impossible task. How could you protect against a killer with no MO, whose murders were only recognisable as his because of the way the weapon was left so intentionally, whatever it may have been, alongside a symbol that was enough to strike fear into the hearts of all who saw it, like taunting clues to the authorities he was mocking?

The man had no name, just a title given to him by the authorities who had realised their predicament soon and had decided it was imperative to find a term to address him. Why would the term devil not suffice? Nor monster?

Usually his victims died quickly, seeing those sharp teeth and those split lips, as they died before they could leave a message about their deaths.

She didn't know why, but she was different, dying in a swamp of pain so excruciating she could neither speak nor move in anything but a pathetically feeble manner. With a hand, shaky and heavy that felt much as though it belonged to someone else, she traced her message on the floor, realising how morbid it was that what was technically her last word would be written on the floor of som rarely travelled back alley in her own rapidly spilling blood.

She knew, as the breath from her lung finally stuttered as it did, as her eyes rolled back and became nothing but white, as she slumped back against the wall completely, that this was not how it was ever meant to be.

She was meant to graduate, make mistakes, get married eventually, have a family of her own. She was meant to live a full life, before she died, likely in hospital should her family history be any indicator, seeing her family's faces as her vision went, not the thing she had seen and written with her rapidly depleting energy:

Red.

A/N

This is a little late and a little short but I couldn't add anything else without making it apparent I was just bulking it up for the sake of reaching a word count.

How about I just talk to you for a bit? It'll bring the word count up a little.

Is anyone familiar with Tokyo Ghoul? It's great but the manga is way easier to understand than the anime. Not that the first season of the anime isn't fantastic and Unravel ties with Again for the best OP ever.

Also, if you are familiar, I'm sure you know about the knuckle cracking thing? I've seen a lot of people in fanfics considering that breaking the fingers? It isn't, trust me. I've done it for years because my hands are weird beyond just being strangely double-jointed in some places - I can't crack my fingers normally and have done that since before I knew Tokyo Ghoul existed. It does nothing aside from perhaps freak a couple of people out.

Still gonna fall a little behind on the word count, but oh well.

I'm just gonna throw in a(n) manga/anime recommendation then go. Trust me, Ajin is fantastic even if, I believe it's chapter 27 or 28 in particular, does need something of a trigger warning and the whole thing is full of pseudo suicides (Ajins can't die so it's not really death but it is, you get me? No? Me either…)

Anyway…

Thanks as always to anyone who supports this story in any way, I don't think I've addressed this yet but well done (from forever ago) to anyone who guessed the situation with Kille Inconnu before I sort of began to explicitly hint at it.

All the best,

We'reAllABitOdd