The sky may as well be a black canvas tonight, the tiny stars and faded moon being no different from white specks yet to be painted over. Its natural darkness only gleams with a periodic hue of dark blue, the red side of a police car's flashing lights not radiating bright enough. Cool colors reflect off of smudged windows, shimmering in the night. The vehicle's sirens are off, leaving only idle radio chatter and the scrape of shoes against cement to fully confirm police are present.
Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi and his subordinate, Sansa Tamakawa, duck under police tape that's meant to seal off the blood bank's entrance. Naomasa's eyes search the doorway for any signs of forced entry, but any chipped wood looks like it's due to being weathered than any other reason. Toshinori Yagi treads as slowly as humanly possible behind them, not wanting to disrupt them during their investigation.
The dim lighting from inside casts a long shadow over sickly yellow walls. Where a receptionist would normally be to greet the men, sits a decaying desk with an empty seat behind it. There's a stray cigarette butt that's sitting in an ashtray which stopped burning, but there's also a lingering scent of smoke. The fumes settle on the tongue, leaving a bitter taste that sours when meshed with the smell of blood spillage wafting through the air.
The soft crunch of glass between Toshinori's foot and the brown tiled floor draws their attention to the ground. Large drops of blood gradually lead to even bigger puddles, almost like a trail. One could make the assumption that it's due to a person bleeding out, but shattered glass on the ground and missing vials from shelves tell a different story.
"Here..", Naomasa digs into the pocket of his overcoat as he suddenly remembers something very important. "Everyone put these on.", the detective hands Tamakawa & Toshinori a pair of blue sanitation gloves so they don't contaminate anything before slipping on his own.
Naomasa crouches down on one knee so he can make a closer inspection. Normally, it'd be the job of the CSI Unit waiting outside to collect any remaining evidence. However, yellow markers that are placed indiscriminately let's him know they already sweeped the building. It's just his job to go over whatever remains and to pick up the broken pieces.. quite literally in this case. Naomasa gently takes a shard of glass, his fingers smudging the red bodily fluid that's on it.
"None of this has dried, so the heist must have been fairly recent..", Tamakawa mutters Naomasa's thoughts aloud for him so Toshinori can get a sense of the crime scene too. Born with a quirk that gives Tamakawa cat-like attributes, he also shares some of the animal's qualities, such as heightened senses. The officer's nose flares as it catches another whiff of the smell drifting around; the cigarette smoke remaining present tells them not much time has passed and the fresh blood practically confirms it as a plausible assumption.
"We've got squad cars fanning the perimeter, something will come up if the perp is still in the area.", Naomasa turns his head just enough to look at Toshinori so he can make sure the hero doesn't go to perform his own manhunt. When the blonde doesn't run off, the detective uses his knee as a brace to push himself back up before adding, "The chances that we'll find anyone are slim though, there's no certain way of knowing how much time has passed and how far one could get, especially if they're as elusive as The Tokyo Ghoul."
"I thought that The Tokyo Ghoul was more..'colorful' with their crimes.", Toshinori doesn't bother hiding the displeasure in his tone or the frown on his face. The lack of sanitation there is enough to make his skin crawl all on its own; there's no need to add the recollection of those victim images into the mix.
"You're right.", Naomasa pulls at the latex around his wrist, "While this particular appetite does sync up with our perp's-", the glove comes off with a slight snap of whiplash, " -it doesn't match The Tokyo Ghoul's M.O."
Tamakawa chimes in with, "This might be a copycat of some sort.", earning a collective look of mild amusement from Toshinori & Naomasa. The police officer's ears flatten as he becomes sheepish, only now realizing he made an accidental pun. "O- Or someone new..", he bashfully scratches the nape of his neck while shyly turning away from them.
"I would be inclined to agree.", each member of the trio whirl around to face the voice of a newcomer. Tamakawa is mostly startled by the stealthiness of a tall & slender man whereas Naomasa and Toshinori are just bewildered. Once he steps out from the shadows, they begin to recognize him by his ragged appearance. The man wears a black outfit that's tucked in at his boots, no doubt meant to help him blend in with the night's atmosphere. The only distinctive features on his costume appear to be a wrap scarf and small utility belt. Otherwise, he could probably pass himself off as a hobo, what with his unkempt facial hair and shoulder length bangs that partially hang over his face. Despite looking like he just rolled out of bed and still remaining to be worn out, the trio know better, this is a pro underground hero in their presence. Eraserhead's eyes look half opened and just as tired as he feels, but still hold a carefully calculative glare. The flat stare flicks from Tamakawa to Naomasa, "Although.. I just so happen to have another plausible theory."
Naomasa's shoulders sag as he lets out an exasperated sigh, almost like he's a deflating balloon. "Please, Aizawa, I'm already annoyed enough as it is.", the detective massages his forehead with his index finger and thumb as if he's trying to soothe an oncoming migraine, "Don't go adding your theories to my frustration."
"Hold on.", Tamakawa rests his hand on Naomasa's shoulder in an allaying manner. "We don't have much to go off of here. It wouldn't hurt to get his professional opinion.", the officer glances at Toshinori with a supplicating expression, "Come on, let's hear him out."
The blonde shoots his own glance at Naomasa, the two sharing a look that's somehow verbal enough for the detective to give in. Sighing again, but this time his shoulders rolling back in preparation for what's to come, Naomasa chooses to appease his subordinate by gesturing for Aizawa to continue.
Eraserhead tilts his head in the direction that he wants them to follow before treading down an aisle of shelves. Leaking vials leave streams of blood that end up winding towards a pool of scarlet. It's almost like the epicenter of it all, several splattered footprints covering the tile there. Aizawa gives the others a moment to track the indentions towards an alley door, no doubt the exit that the perp used to leave.
"Whoever did this wasn't alone.", the trio shoot Aizawa all sorts of perplexed looks. Noticing that they aren't entirely convinced, he explains. "The footprints here are crossing eachother. It's too much of an irregular pattern to only be one person, especially when it's overlapping the other's steps.", his hand gestures in a lazy manner as an attempt to show them.
Naomasa shakes his head while trying to stifle a groan, "That doesn't prove anything at all. The perp could have just simply retraced their steps.", he crosses his arms in an exaggerated display of disappointment before asking, "Are you done wasting our time yet?"
Aizawa keeps his deadpanned expression while giving a wry response, "No. I haven't gotten to the best part yet.", the underground hero then casually uses his foot to nudge an evidence marker elsewhere. Before Naomasa can do any scolding or reprimanding, Aizawa points to the particular place that he moved it to. "The shoe sizes vary vastly.", the imprints are side by side for anyone to see that one is smaller than the other, "There are two culprits minimum."
Tamakawa covers his mouth with his arm, feigning a cough to cover up the huff of amusement he gets at seeing his superior outsmarted. Even Toshinori looks like he's trying to keep a grin at bay, though his is more likely to be part of the jesting that comes with friendship.
Naomasa throws his arms up in irritation, "Okay! You've made your point!", before crossing them again, "That doesn't prove it was The Tokyo Ghoul though. As a matter of fact, it only further suggests that it wasn't. As far as we know, he's acted alone and solely operates as a vigilante of sorts."
"Which leads to my belief that he was coaxed into doing this.", Aizawa gives the detective a sly glance before addressing Toshinori and Tamakawa, "As mentioned, The Tokyo Ghoul has acted alone, picking off criminals during the night. It started with low tier thugs, ones that were hard to decipher as crooks when their first offense was the same night that they died. As such, these criminals were simply purse snatchers or muggers. Our ghoul then slowly escalated to higher ranked villains, like a predator finding its place in the food chain."
"Your point, Aizawa?", Naomasa interjects without hiding his annoyance, an ever present scowl on his face.
"My point is that we prayed the ghoul wouldn't find its place in the food chain since that's likely even higher than its present place.", Aizawa fixes Naomasa with his own scowl, "This is a step down. The prayer is answered. Now you have to ask yourself: What could have stopped something like that just when it's about to reach the highest peak? The answer.. is a significant other."
Naomasa gives a dry laugh that's just short of being sardonic, "Give me a break! You're saying The Tokyo Ghoul has a lover?", the rhetorical question is meant to be condescending but only ushers Aizawa to further explain.
Eraserhead points at the footprints again, meaning to draw attention to the shoe sizes in particular. "It might not just be fitting the foot that makes this difference so conceivable. It would also make sense for one of these to fit a female whereas the other fits a male.", Aizawa catches the rectangular eyes of Naomasa with his flat ones, "The other possibility for why these shoe sizes are so small brings me back to another theory I had. If I'm not mistaken.. We might be dealing with children."
"A kid?!", Toshinori is unable to refrain from making an outburst of disbelief. The brooding look that crosses the blonde's gaunt features don't do the right amount of justice in conveying his inner turmoil. He's heard of troubled youth, but this is beyond that. As the symbol of peace and Japan's number one hero, he feels like he's personally to blame for such a travesty. "How could a kid-", he chokes up on his own emotions before overpowering them with an angry shout, "-A CHILD!? How could someone so young do such gruesome things?"
"It's easy for children to become misguided. Such underdeveloped minds may think they have no other choice.", Aizawa's expression softens with his tone as he tries to placate the blonde, "It might not seem like much of a change in direction, stealing versus murder, but we can thank whoever gave them an alternative. It's better than nothing."
It starts as a slow shake, but slowly increases in speed, Naomasa might just suffer a concussion from turning himself into a life size bobblehead. "You'e reaching too far on this. It's only a hunch with no real justifiable proof. It's too sudden and it's far too drastic of a shift in motive.", the detective groans before adding, "I'll throw you a bone and admit there's a likelihood of two culprits here - but that's all! Quit while you're ahead."
"There are quirks with drawbacks worse than others.", Aizawa reaches into one of the various pouches on his utility belt, "I have dry eye every once and a while that can lead to vision deterioration if not treated.", the underground hero applies the eye drops that he pulled out. "Someone with gills may be required to constantly stay submerged in water in order to survive. There's a possibility that The Tokyo Ghoul has a similar drawback. It's not uncommon for quirks to show signs of aggression or to have cannibalistic urges either.", Aizawa blinks his eyelids a few times once he's finished before putting away the drops, "If we truly are dealing with a kid in this scenario, it's even more likely for them to believe this is the only option."
"..Until now..", Toshinori comes to the same conclusion as Aizawa once he mulls it over. "If the child needs blood or something of the sort to stay alive, then taking from here instead of killing a person means they have no real desire to harm anyone.", a small but hopeful smile starts to form on the hero's face.
Tamakawa purrs in satisfaction, equally enthused by the potential of a breakthrough in the investigation. He stops to scratch behind his triangular ear before asking, "Does that mean we should scratch out the vigilante classification now?", he winces when he realizes he made another unintentional pun. Nobody seems to notice besides Aizawa, who's eyes sparkle with more amusement than his expression.
"One night doesn't mean the rest will be any different.", Naomasa supplies his uncertainty with a shrug, "We hadn't had a vigilante as violent since Stendhal, the only difference being that psycho was short lived and mainly used a katana."
Aizawa hums in agreement before contemplating the rest out loud, "Most vigilantes don't cross the line of the law any further than illegal quirk usage. Adding manslaughter is too black; they prefer the grey area that they created in between the white."
"And where exactly is the line that's supposed to be drawn between those colors?", Toshinori solemnly asks from his sulking disposition. "What's the difference between a vigilante or a villain if killing isn't it?", the controversial question might seem rhetorical to the underground hero, detective, and police officer but Toshinori genuinely wants the answer when it involves a kid.
Tamakawa's ears bend as he takes the blonde's words into consideration. "You're asking if theft is more of a step over that line than murder?", it's more of a grim statement than a question at this point. The cop glances in the direction of his superior, hoping Naomasa might have the answer. Even the detective looks lost in thought, his pensive gaze directed at the floor.
As absurd as that thought might seem, it isn't completely illogical. There have been justifiable murders, ones done in self defense for instance. When put bluntly, maybe there is no line, maybe it's just one big splotch like the blood covering the floor. The real difference in villainy or vigilantism may be whether you love seeing your reflection in that puddle or recoil in disgust. Aizawa finds no real answer for anyone except, "Who knows what'll be the worst thing the ghoul does if they do become a full blown villain."
The crisp shadows shrouding them start to burn away as light gleams in. Vials shimmer under the sun's glare, naturally brightening the room little by little. Hues of orange blend with the red tint, creating a vibrant color that welcomes the morning.
Toshinori turns towards the light, closing his eyes as he relishes in its warmth. The blonde bathes in it, the frown on his face curling upwards only slightly. When he opens his eyes, his blue reflects the sky. Clearing his throat to gather the other's attention, he throws a thumb over his shoulder in order to excuse himself. "It's about time for my morning commute. I should get going.", he checks his wrist for a watch that isn't there before adjusting the sleeve to cover it.
"Oh!", Naomasa snaps out of his cognition when he notices the hero is leaving. "I'll give you a call if anything changes and send the rest in the mail then.", the detective waves a farewell to his friend as the blonde backs away.
"That would be wonderful. Thank you, Naomasa!", Toshinori shouts over his shoulder as he turns and jogs out the door. Once out of sight, the blonde ducks into an alley where nobody can see his transformation and becomes the pro hero acknowledged by everyone as All Might. Fragile limbs buff up in a matter of seconds, a massive grin spreading across Toshinori's face as he triples in size. The hero takes flight, bounding over buildings in a single hop, guffawing all the way into the troposphere.
"This is going to leave me an unholy amount of paperwork to fill out..", Naomasa complains as he rubs the bags that are beginning to develop under his eyes. While the creases and wrinkles are nothing compared to Aizawa's, the detective wouldn't be far behind.
"Be sure to fax it over to me when it's finished.", the underground hero remains monotone as he treads in the same direction that Toshinori went. Revealed to have been concealed under the capture cloth that's wrapped around his neck & shoulders like a scarf, Eraserhead pulls a pair of yellow goggles over his eyes. The specialized lens leaves only a few slits in them, hiding the direction of his gaze. On his way out, he gives the detective a bidded farewell, "In the meantime, I've got another lead that I intend to follow up on."
Tamakawa places his hands on his hips as he surveys the empty space. "Looks it's going to be one of those kinda days.", his whiskers bend with his half hearted smile.
Naomasa sighs in predetermined exhaustion, matching the fellow policemen's attitude. "In that case..", he pulls off the other sanitation glove before tucking his hands into his overcoat's pockets, "I'm gonna need a cup of coffee."
When Anteiku opens its doors to Musutafu in the morning, wave after wave of customers come bustling in for a taste of java. Lines form out the door sometimes; there's been the occasional circumstance of people bringing lawn chairs to seat themselves during the busy hour. This is another one of those instances, to call it a breakfast rush would be downplaying the crowd. Servers run back and forth as they scramble to serve customers their morning dew. Amongst them, is Akatani Mikumo, one of the best workers Anteiku has to offer.
The boy weaves in between tables as he sets down cups of tea or mugs of steaming coffee. Once the tray that he carries is empty, he swivels back around to walk briskly towards the kitchen for another round. There's a customer that asks for napkins on the way, to which Akatani politely obliges. A fortunate waiter wouldn't come across any extra interruptions, but this particular teen finds himself in the most unfortunate of predicaments all the time, so he's stopped once again.
Thin arms wrap around his midsection, just above his waist and below his chest. The petite form pulls him into what must be a hug from behind, something soft pressing against his back momentarily. Startled by what feels like a sneak attack, Akatani breaks loose from the grip and spins around to face whoever grabbed him. "Surprise!", a familiar blonde greets him with a squeal of joy.
"Himiko?!", Akatani shouts in shock once he recognizes the petite girl. The boy glances in each direction as he realizes they're standing in the center of the cafe. In an attempt to avoid getting waylaid, Akatani gently takes Himiko by the wrist and guides her to a less populated corner. "Can't you see we're packed? I've gotta work; I can't get fired.", he keeps his voice down and tone low in the effort to keep a low profile.
"But I'm bored, Akatani!", Himiko pretends to whine as her lip curls into a feigned moue.
"I just might regret giving you the address to this place..", Akatani jokingly mumbles to himself as he shakes his head in bewilderment. From the single eye that peers out from his overgrown hair, he notices a small table meant for two has been cleared. "Here. Have a seat and just.. wait. I'll bring you a cup of coffee.", Akatani gestures to the chairs so she can see them too before backing away so he can flee into the kitchen.
Himiko plops into the seat with a small huff. The girl had so much fun the previous night that she couldn't wait to spend another one with the boy. What Himiko assumed would be a cure for whatever boredom started stirring in her stomach only left her with even less to do. There's nobody sitting in the chair across from her to talk with, there's no television set mounted up anywhere, there's not even any music playing from a radio. Left with nothing else to do, she starts playing with the sugar packets left out for customers to use. She picks through the pink and white, finding those colors cuter than the light blue ones. Once those run out, Himiko slumps in the chair as boredom overwhelms her again.
Akatani takes a swig from his own coffee before grabbing the one for Himiko, a to-go cup with a lid just in case she were to leave or accidentally spill it. He hadn't bothered with any sugar or specialties, having not gotten the chance to learn her preferences yet. Instead, Akatani snags some creams and sweeteners for her to personally choose from.
The boy scampers back to the blonde, flashing her a benevolent smile once she sees him turn the corner with everything tucked under his arms. Even when he's swamped with other customers, he tries his best to serve her specifically. "I didn't know what you'd want, so I just kinda grabbed everything on hand..", he gives her a diffident chuckle while sheepishly scratching the back of his head.
"Aaww, Akatani, you shouldn't have!", the coy teasing leaves them both blushing. When the flushed faces lose a bit of their heat, Himiko's coy smirk forms into a grin. She shows him a vial of blood that was taken from the previous night, "See? I brought my own blend."
Akatani's exposed eye widens in an initial shock, the recognition evident in the small twinkle of his iris. The anxiety that comes from panic makes him shoot a worried glance over his shoulder before bringing his focus back to the vial of blood. "Try not to let anyone see that.", he whispers in a voice laced with concern.
Himiko rolls her eyes like he's being overdramatic, "Relax. Nobody is gonna notice.", the red liquid pours into the cup of coffee like an ordinary sort of creamer before she stashes away the empty vial. "It's not like anyone will be able to tell what it is either.", she says in reassurance while stirring the concoction with a spoon.
"You can never be too careful..", Akatani shoots another worried glance towards the people behind him before gritting his teeth in what looks like resistance. The pupil of his eye seemingly shrinks as it turns a shade similar to the blood that was mixed with coffee. There's a dry swallow from the boy as it returns to normal. "Besides, it's more meant for me than them.", he timidly mumbles in admittance.
Himiko gawps a little as she realizes they're more similar than she previously thought. "You get an urge for blood when you see it, don't you, Akatani-kun?", she cranes her neck as she tries to get a closer look at him. His eye continues to display a constant shift of appearance, the only way to truly recognize Akatani's inner struggle. Any ordinary glance at the boy wouldn't uncover his hidden bloodlust, but Himiko is able to fully notice this side of him. She's able to fully understand it since she empathises with this desire too. "It's okay to give in. Here. Have some.", she slides the cup towards him while trying to make her voice as soothing as possible.
Akatani stares at the drink with reluctance before the gaze flicks back to Himiko, almost like he's checking for permission. The hesitance doesn't last very long though, he doesn't even wait to get that confirmation that she thought he was seeking. Akatani snatches the cup from the table, taking a big swig of it, practically chugging it. When he's finished, he lets out a satisfied sigh, a bit of liquid dripping from his lips before his tongue laps it up.
Himiko's mouth continues to hang open as she watches his every move. It's almost like he's constantly starving, completely deprived of what he wishes to taste. The small content he has from what he swallows though, she sees it in his features. A grin begins to form on her face, starting small and stretching bigger. The girl fully understands now, seeing herself in the boy. Two identities that contradict one another, the conflicted mind that draws them together just as much as it brings them apart, they both share this quality.
She's snapped from her musings by the chime of the coffee shop's front door. A man wearing a tan overcoat takes off his matching hat once he steps inside, ever the gentlemen. The green tie he wears with a pair of slacks and dress shoes makes her brush him off as a mundane businessman. She'd much rather keep her attention on Akatani Mikumo, the interesting specimen that.. is giving her an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry. I've gotta take this customer.", he points a thumb over his shoulder in the plain guy's direction. "Thanks for letting me try your coffee blend.", the joke that's meant to be lighthearted isn't very funny when his voice cracks with the lack of sincerity. She can tell that the expression on his face is fabricated, that it isn't a real smile like the one she had seen those previous nights. No, beneath the mask that he's made, Akatani wears a face of self inflicted shame. Himiko wants to tell him so much, that there's no reason to be ashamed, but he's already walking away.
Naomasa waits patiently for a worker to notice him, hands in pockets and head down as he contemplates the crime scene that he just left. Aizawa left him with a lot on his mind and the morning rush of customers at Anteiku leaves him with the time to go over it all. The thought of two culprits being responsible for the blood bank heist is enough of an issue, but linking it with The Tokyo Ghoul and saying they have a PARTNER makes it a whole lot worse. In all honesty, Naomasa would prefer to make this robbery an entirely different case file and let it collect dust on a shelf with no real resolve to close it. The complications that come with tacking on an accomplice to the elusive ghoul outweigh a simple burglary.
The detective bites his tongue like he spoke the thought out loud, enough to cause pain but not enough to draw any blood. A tide of shame washes over his mouth instead, cleaning it out like his saliva had been doused with soap. There was a time when he would never think about dismissing a case, no matter what it is. Naomasa had always been the most honest cop on the force, he had even been dubbed with the nickname 'True Man', and it wasn't just because of his lie detection quirk. Whether it was from all the stress that comes with trying to catch The Tokyo Ghoul or how many years he's had on the job, he can't help but wonder what happened to himself. A thought that isn't so easily dismissive crosses his mind: Is there a difference between the identity of that noble detective called True Man and Naomasa Tsukauchi?
"Toffee nut, right?", the detective is drawn from his rumination by a familiar looking barista. Whether it's done deliberately or not, half the boy's face is covered by his dark shade of hair, one might say it's the most defining feature that keeps him from looking plain. An emerald eye peers up with what can only be described as kindness, seemingly waiting on the detective's response.
"Uh, yes..", Naomasa is taken back by the waiter's ability to know what he was going to order. "How'd you guess? Your quirk?", a genuine curiosity that has to do with the detective's instinct to uncover mysteries sparks from it. In retrospect, it wouldn't be that bizzare if the server had something along the lines of precognition, it'd make sense for a business such as this to hire him for it specifically.
The boy's laugh sounds lighthearted to the unobservant ear, but the faint sense of gloom isn't covered completely, he wouldn't be winning any emmys this year. "I don't have a quirk as cool as that.", his voice is distant but rises in pitch as if it comes closer when he focuses back on Naomasa, "I only knew your order because I remembered it from last time."
Suddenly, it clicks as to why the waiter looks so familiar. Naomasa refrains from slapping a palm into his face, feeling a tug of guilt for not remembering the boy's name. The kid had served him and Toshinori just the other day, yet the detective had completely forgotten.
"Ah, forgive me!", he gives the barista a slight bow to apologize. The gesture is mostly meant to serve as a distraction though, it's the detective's attempt to stall for time as he tries to recall the boy's name. Running a hand through his equally black hair, minus the grey strands, he's forced to surrender with a bashful smile. "I completely forgot. I'm sorry.. ?", he lingers on the end to let the waiter know that he's asking for their name.
"Akatani Mikumo - and it's fine, I'm pretty forgettable when we live in a world that's filled with heroes and villains.", he brushes it off with a whimsical shrug.
"Not at all!", Naomasa waves his hand to reassure the boy. "I've just had a lot on my mind as of late..", the detective finds himself running that same hand through his hair again as he awkwardly chuckles.
"Ah, I see! Hence the coffee!", Akatani stands on his toes with some newfound spunk in his demeanor, "Assuming you're still craving that toffee nut, of course."
Naomasa gives the barista a small nod, "That would be perfect.", before clearing his throat and holding out his hand. "How rude of me - I forgot to introduce myself!", Akatani takes and shakes it, "I'm Naomasa Tsukauchi!"
"Nice to meet you, officially this time.", Akatani gives the detective a bright smile before turning around to search for a table where he can be seated. The waiter falters for a moment, as if there's something missing in the far corner of the cafe. He recovers quickly though, maintaining the smile on his face and gesturing to a free space. "Right this way, Tsukauchi-San.", he says whilst leading the detective to the table.
Naomasa arches an eyebrow, noticing the single spoon that sits there. It might just be from some kinda jam or something, but he swears there's a red stain on it. Akatani snatches it away rather hastily too, not even making a comment about it's existence. The detective lets out a heavy sigh, letting go of what must just be paranoia.
"Of all the things that I could have picked up from Aizawa..", he mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.