Kuki Urie walked into the meeting room reserved for the Quinx Squad. Immediately, all eyes were on him. Closing the door behind him, he ignored the glowers of disapproval especially the particularly scathing one coming from Haise Sasaki.

"So glad you could join us, Mr. Urie," Sasaki remarked to be summarily ignored as the latecomer casually took a seat beside fellow squad member Ginshi Shirazu. "You're late."

"I am," Urie readily agreed.

"Why are you late?" the irritated but long-suffering leader asked.

"I was with a woman," he answered with blunt honesty.

Shirazu laughed uproariously. "Holy shit, man! If you're going to lie, at least try to make it believable."

"I was on a date," he added tonelessly.

"Seriously dude," the mouthy blonde muttered, rolling his eyes. He folded his hands behind his head, eyeing the ceiling above him. Apparently it was more interesting than the conversation at hand.

Mutsuki and Sasaki remained quiet, both blinking at him with vacant stares.

Urie was growing agitated no one believed him. Was it really so farfetched that he would be on a date? Had it been a date? He shook his head. What it was didn't matter. He found their blatant disbelief of his excuse insulting.

"A date? At eight in the morning?" Sasaki questioned him incredulously.

"She gets off from work at eight," he replied.

"Where does she work?" Mutsuki inquired.

"Midnight Coffee."

"Wait...what?" Shirazu muttered, his interest in the conversation returning. "She works where?"

"Did you say Midnight Coffee?" Mutsuki questioned him. There was a distinct wistfulness to his tone making it sound he wished he had heard wrong.

His fellow squad members gazed at him like shocked guppies, gape mouthed and wide eyed.

"Yes," Urie confirmed, wondering why Shirazu and Mutsuki appeared so disturbed.

"Did you really go out with the owner? Miss Miyu?" Mutsuki further interrogated him.

"Miss Miyu? You're on a first name basis with her?" he muttered, aggravation seeping into his voice.

Questions, so many questions formed, running round and round in his head. How long had those two been going there? How did they know her so well? Were they all friends? How the hell did this happen? Was he really that disinterested in others?

"Not Miss Miyu!" Shirazu exclaimed, surprised and appalled. "She's too nice for you, Urie."

"Shut up, Shirazu!" he snapped in return.

"Who's Miss Miyu?" Sasaki asked sounding like a confused father while his children continued to argue as if he were not even in the room.

"She owns a coffee shop called Midnight Coffee. It's open from midnight to eight in the morning," Mutsuki helpfully explained.

"Am I the only one who doesn't know about this place?" Sasaki asked, glancing from the face of one subordinate to the other, each in turn.

"Yes," the three answered in unison.

"Where the hell is Yonebayashi? Why isn't she here? Why isn't she in trouble?" Urie demanded to take the attention off of himself. He referred to the member of their squad who was always conspicuously missing from their weekly meetings. "It's not fair the lazy ass shut in gets a pass for not showing up at all, and I get shit for being fifteen minutes late."

"What was that woman's name again?" Sasaki asked, dismissing the complaint of the disgruntled Kuki Urie.

"Miyu Nakashima," they replied in chorus.

"Miyu Nakashima," the befuddled squad leader repeated.

A switch had flipped in his brain, sending it spinning into motion while the other three continued to talk about the coffee shop and its owner, both a mystery to him.

Recognition skittered through his consciousness but no memory came with it. He could not form a face in his mind to pair with the name he identified on a subconscious level. A soft, fuzzy emotion flooded his chest with warmth.

His hand rubbed over his steadily thrumming heart. Hearing her name had not caused him any undue stress or anxiety. The sensate reaction to her name was warm, pleasant, and calming. At least this nebulous woman stirred positive emotions inside of him.

This influx of wholesome, tender emotions reminded him of the moment he saw the beautiful young woman in the coffee shop called :re. Seeing her lovely face, her gentle smile, triggered something inside of him setting off an emotional recollection rather than a visual, physical, memory.

Sitting in that coffee shop, tears had ran down his face without stopping while a feeling so visceral, so powerful filled him that he could only classify it as love. She was a total stranger to him. But maybe not to Kaneki. Perhaps, like that woman, Miyu Nakashima was a part of his past, a repressed memory buried so deep he could not dig it up. At least not on his own.

~\..'../~

Kishou Arima was sitting at his desk going over reports submitted by Dr. Shiba containing the latest results of the Rc tests and an updated psychological evaluation of each member of the Quinx Squad when there was a knock on his door. Only one person would come to his office without previous notice.

"Yes?" he called, closing the folder.

Sasaki peeked his head around the door, his big silvery gray eyes pleading. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

"For you I can spare five," Arima replied with a smile. "What's on your mind today, Haise?"

"Who is Miyu Nakashima?" he inquired bluntly, blinking his big guileless eyes.

A lump instantly formed in Arima's throat threatening to choke the life out of him. He casually reached for his bottle of water to take a drink to wash away the obstruction formed by shock and composed of regret.

"Where did you hear that name?" he asked as placidly as possible.

"The squad was discussing her. She owns a coffee shop. Urie went out on a date with her," Haise rambled.

Arima coughed, choking on his water. He set the bottle of offending liquid down after taking another sip.

"You're not making any sense," he returned, genuinely bemused. "Urie did what with who?"

Haise recounted the entire discussion for him in hopes of clearing up his supposed confusion. The possibility of Kuki Urie going out on a date with anyone was a concept Arima's brain could not quite fathom.

Kishou Arima recognized the name Miyu Nakashima. She belonged to a part of his past. His and Haise's pasts. For several years, he believed the woman to be long gone, never to be heard from or seen again.

"Why does that name interest you?" he questioned Haise.

By the way Haise bowed his head, looking for the world like a guilty child who had been hiding a terrible secret from his father, Arima knew his worst fear was about to be confirmed. He swallowed a few times to rid himself of that damnable lump of emotion strangling him.

"I'm remembering," Haise confessed, avoiding eye contact with his superior, his friend, and father figure.

Apprehension made his gut tighten until he thought he might vomit. Arima knew something had been going on with Haise. He had feared for a while that memories of the past were slowly returning due to Haise's recent uncharacteristically withdrawn behavior peppered with unexpected bouts of aggression.

Why now? Why were so many memories of the past resurfacing now? Moreover, he worried Ken Kaneki was breaking through and wanted to come back, destroying Haise in the process.

"He's taken over at least twice now hasn't he? The last time being at the raid of the Auction House. Correct?"

"How did you - " Haise began, stunned by Arima's all too accurate guess. His words were swiftly cut off.

"When were you going to tell me?" Arima interrupted, standing to his feet behind his desk. "What else has happened? What other memories have come back?"

"I-I d-don't kn-know," he stuttered, unsure of how to explain his emotional recall. "A few weeks ago, I saw a woman in a coffee shop. I started crying and couldn't stop. I felt like I should know her. Somehow I knew she was important to me. I felt like..." He paused, searching for the correct words, but there were none so he just blurted out, "I felt like I loved her." He inhaled a shaky breath. "I know this Miyu Nakashima is important to me too, but I don't know how. You have to know who she is so tell me."

Arima sat back down in his chair. Placing his steepled fingers under his chin, he thought carefully about how to explain the enigma of Miyu Nakashima. He was still puzzled by the woman himself. A brief but basic explanation would be best. Details could come later. Or preferably not at all.

"Miyu Nakashima was a psychologist who played an instrumental role in your rehabilitation. Think of her as the key who locked away Ken Kaneki," he said, noting the sudden downturn of Haise's mouth into a deep frown.

"But he's knocking on the prison door," the young man said, his anxiety slowly churning into simmering anger. "And he's threatening to break it down. Whatever she did to me failed."

"Don't blame her, Haise," he said in defense of the woman who hated him with every fiber of her being as she had been sure to tell him before she left. "She warned all of us this could happen. It was a highly experimental procedure she did not want to do. But..." Arima sighed, tapping his peaked fingers to his chin. "I coerced her. I forced her hand and pushed her beyond her own ethics and morals to do what I wanted...what I thought was best for you. After her work with you was done, she quit. She disappeared. I thought she had left the country."

Arima laughed lightly. He knew it was insane to chuckle at this moment, but he could not help himself. His thin lips cocked upward on one side into a lopsided grin. He could not believe his luck. Miyu was still within his reach. She had been close by the entire time, and he never knew. Just as she had planned no doubt.

"What is it?" Sasake inquired apprehensively, wondering what the weird expression meant. "What are you thinking?"

"She's been right here. Hiding in plain sight. She did not even bother to change her name. She wasn't trying to hide. She knew I wouldn't come looking for her because I would assume she had left the country. She never even left the city. Clever," he murmured.

Arima reached for the phone. "Haise, will you give me a bit of privacy? I need to make a very important phone call."

~\..'../~

"Hello?" The voice was breathy, hoarse. Sleepy.

Arima grinned. His fortune held. She had not changed her phone number either. If he had not known her so well, he would think the woman was stupid, crazy, or just plain lazy. She had done absolutely nothing to hide herself from him.

Actually, that fact pissed him off in a way. He could have found her a long time ago, brought her back to the CCG. Haise needed her. If she she had been here all along, perhaps he would not be well on his way to another psychotic break.

"Miyu?" he inquired tentatively.

"Arima?" Her voice was suddenly clear and strong, indicating she was wide awake.

"Don't be so formal, Miyu. Please call me Kishou like you used to," he implored her.

Silence. Too much silence. Beep, beep, beep. She had disconnected the call.

"Dammit," he grumbled irritably. She was still stubborn as ever.

Arima dialed her number again. It rang once then went to voicemail. He repeated the process three more times, the call being forwarded each time. On the fourth attempt, a recording came on.

"The person you are trying to reach..."

He hung up on the robotic voice. He surmised she had blocked his calls by this time. He would have to pay a visit to that coffee shop.