Five Years Later

It was almost midnight. Small fingers traced the lines of the kanji character on the worn page. The small room was mostly dark, the only source of light being a dying flashlight and the strip of yellow light coming from the cracked door. The room was small and worn. The wooden walls were covered in flaking off white paint, and the floor was covered ancient stained carpet full of threadbare patches and holes. The only furniture was a small, shabby dresser that was pushed into the back left corner next to a singular cracked, dusty window, and two cots. There was one cot against the left wall and one against the right; and they were supposably makeshift, but they were obviously much older than the little girl who sat in the one on the right side of the room.

She sat on her flat pillow, hunching over her book. She stared at the kanji letter, the pronunciation instructions under it, and the crudely drawn cat next to it. The pronunciation guide was no help, because the five year old girl had no idea what the other words the author referenced were.

She shook the dimming flashlight in an attempt to make the dying batteries to last a bit longer. The girl had straight snow white hair that hung down to just above her shoulders, and round green eyes that studied the writing. She was pale as a ghost, and very very small, much tinier than other five year olds. Perhaps she looked even smaller because she was all skin and bones, and her ribs jutted out so much they were visible through her purple pajamas that were two or three sizes to large. Bruises covered her fragile body.

She heard a creak on the loose floorboard in the hallway outside her room, and she quickly clicked off her her flashlight, closed her book, laid down, and pulled the covers over. She let out a fake snore, pretending to be asleep.

Light poured in as the wooden door creaked open. The young girl cracked an eye opened to get a glimpse of who had entered the room.

The person whom had entered was also five years of age. He was a little taller than the girl on the cot, but just as skinny. He had teal hair that hung in his sad, red eyes. He wore scratchy black and white striped pajamas, and he had his bony hands on his stomach, as if he was hurting.

"Hitomi?" he asked, not leaving the doorway. "Are you up?"

"Yeah," the girl said quietly.

With that, he closed his door and shuffled over to the cot. He climbed onto it and somehow managed to squish in with the white haired girl.

"Ow!" he yelped sitting up.

"Shhhh!" Hitomi hissed, pulling the source of his discomfort out from under him. "You sat on my book."

The boy laid down next to the girl, and he still was clutching his stomach.

"Kaito, what you doing here?" she asked.

"My tummy hurts," he whined.

Hitomi sighed. "Did you eat the soup and the bread?" The lack of an answer from Kaito confirmed Hitomi's question as a yes. "Kaaaiiitttooo."

"I was hungry," he whined. "And it tasted so good."

"You can't do that!" Hitomi scolded.

"Why not?"

"Cause the same reason as Miss Akashinshi says," she sighed. "We gots a thing where if we eat more than a tiny bowl of chicken soup, we will get bad tummy pains that night."

"That's why we're so small and skinny," Kaito said sadly. It was silent for a few minutes. "Where's your flashlight?"

"Don't got one."

"Liar. I know you stole one from Miss Akashinshi to read your stupid Kanji book at night."

"It's not stupid," Hitomi said defensively, handing him the flashlight. "Mommy and Daddy gave it to me."

"You don't know that," Kaito muttered, flicking on the dull flashlight.

"It was left with us in the stroller."

"Well whoever left it with us was not our mommy or daddy," Kaito said, putting his tiny hand over the beam so that his palm glowed red.

"Yes it was. Why not?"

He sighed. "We don't got a mommy or daddy. That's why we're here, at this dumb orphanage."

Hitomi just frowned and sunk down into her pillow. She then smiled. "Well, I have the best brother," she said, squeezing her twin's hand.

Kaito smiled at that statement, and then frowned when he turned the flashlight's near dead beam onto his sister. He gingerly touched one of the bruises on her arm.

"What happened?"

"Aosame and his friends beat me up again," she said sadly. "I was only playing on the steps, they came over, and beat me up!"

"Did you run to Miss Akashinshi?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"She kicked me and and to leave her alone."

"I shoulda been there," Kaito said, an angry tone to his voice. "To protect you."

"S'okay," Hitomi said. "I'm used to it. Miss Akashinshi hits me all the time. Same with the other kids. Can't fight back cause I'm weak from not eatin' anything."

"I'm sorry," Kaito said. "Miss Akashinshi hits me to. One time she straight up picked me up and threw me. She ain't a very good orphanage person."

"Orphanage person?"

"Well, she runs the orphanage," he explained. "Don't know if there's a name for it."

"Oh," Hitomi said. "How's your tummy? You seem fine."

"It's okay," he said. "Still feels a little funny. The worst of it is over. I only ate three bites of the bread anyway."

When he got no response, Kaito realized his sister was asleep. He snuggled close to her, and also fell asleep.

In a mansion a ways from the Kokucho orphanage, Eto laid in a lavish bed, reading a book.

The bed she lay in had sheets like silk, with a polished black nightstand sitting next to it. The entire bedroom was decorated with expensive knick knaks, and the velvety navy blue curtains that hung beside the large window matched the color of the bed. A large tv sat on a black dresser in front of the bed.

Eto sighed and turned the page of her book. She loved to read, but tonight her heart just wasn't in it. She turned her head to look at the bathroom that was attached to the room, and called out to her friend.

"Naki?"

She heard him spit and the water run, and then the clatter of his toothbrush.

"Yeah?"

He came to the doorway in his underwear. His short blond hair was still damp from his shower. Eto looked up at his almost naked body, allowed herself to blush a little, and then scolded him.

"For the love of God Naki, put some clothes on."

He mumbled something inaudible to Eto and walked over to his dresser. While he looked for clothes, what Eto had just said ran through her head.

She remembered saying those exact words to Juuzou. Though, she had not meant it. She had been living with her best friend for five years now. The servants were good to her, and she found herself on good terms with Ju San again. On the first of each month, she would drop a body at the old hotel for Kotori. She wondered what had become of Kimi and her half ghoul daughter. However, she did not want to endanger Kimi by getting back into contact with her. The daughter on the other hand… How old was she now— six? She was a half ghoul, meaning she was powerful. Maybe when Kotori was older, Eto would be able to recruit her to Aogiri.

Though she had been separated from Juuzou for six years or so, and her children from about five, memories plagued her every night. It was awful, and sometimes she would worry so much she would get awful migraines.

She told herself she had no time to be sad, she was the one eyed owl. Things with Aogiri had been going good; they had taken out a large number of doves in a skirmish in the thirteenth ward.

Eto had not seen Juuzou at a raid. In fact, she had not seen him since the fateful day that he sent her away and told her he would kill her if he ever saw her again.

Naki, now dressed in silk pajamas, must have recognized the melancholy look on her face, for he climbed onto the bed and curled up next to her. He laid his head on her shoulder and gave his friend puppy eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin," Eto lied, trying not to let his scent into her nose.

He smelled so good. The shower had washed all of his fancy cologne off, but his natural scent, mixed with the soap, was enough to drive the half ghoul insane.

"You're thinkin bout Juuzou and the babies," he said.

"Yes," Eto sighed. "And they're not babies anymore. They're five years old."

"Are you ever gonna go back for them?" Naki asked.

"I don't know."

"I could help you raise them!" he exclaimed. "The servants too! There's plenty of room for them to play! They would love it! And we would all be happy, like a family…"

"I'll think about it," Eto said, deciding not to acknowledge his last statement.

Naki smiled and cuddled closer. Eto sighed, and his sweet smell filled her nose. It was so good, it made her wanna—.

She cut off her own thoughts by getting out of the bed. "I'm going to bed," she said, walking over to the door.

"Goodnight," Naki said.

Eto shuffled down the hallway, her head hanging. Ju San, who was passing the opposite direction, nodded at her.

The half ghoul entered her bedroom and flopped down onto her bed. "Don't think about it," she said out loud. But it was in vain.

Her mind filled with thoughts of a bench in front of the giraffe exhibit of the Tokyo Zoo. She remembered a coffee shop, a hospital hall. She remembered a movie theatre and Christmas cookies. She remembered an apartment, a high class restaurant, and a fancy hotel room. Her finger went to her arm and traced the stitches.

Her heart began to ache even more as she thought of her first stay at Naki's home, of a abandoned hotel. Of eight hours of excruciating pain, and then the little hands and curious eyes.

She wondered about Hitomi and Kaito. She told herself they were better off where they were, and that they were happy. She thought about Juuzou, with his adorable stitches and suspenders. She remembered his snow white hair, his red eyes, his pale skin… His smile…

Eto cried herself to sleep that night. As if that was anything new.

In an apartment not all to far away, a man lay awake. It was late, and he was tired from the days work, but he could not sleep.

Juuzou rolled onto his side and examined his stitched hand. The last six years had been hell. Insomnia, depression, anxiety… All the things they expected his time with Big Madam to cause had been caused by Sen—no, Eto—instead.

He wondered what she was doing. Probably sleeping soundly. She didn't feel bad; ghouls didn't have emotions after all. He knew she was still leading Aogiri, and the thought of how many investigator's deaths he caused by telling her where the raids were made him sick.

"I hate you, I hate you," he said to Eto, though he knew she could not hear him.

It was going to be a yet another long night for Juuzou Suzuya.