"Can I help you with anything else, ma'am?" the taxi driver asked after setting the second box of documents on the sidewalk.
The small man shifted anxiously from foot to foot, twisting his flat cap in his hands. His eyes slid to the CCG Headquarters then back to Miyu's face. Beads of sweat formed on his brow, and he ran his hand through his thinning gray hair. Definitely a ghoul.
She did not want to keep him here lest the investigators get a whiff of the harmless old man and needlessly kill him. He probably relied on one of the underground specialty butcher shops catering the weaker ghouls. There was one in her neighborhood. During the day, the store was extraordinarily ordinary selling beef, pork, and chicken - a run of the mill meat shop. At night, they shuttled human contraband out of the back door to hungry ghouls.
"Nothing else. You've been a wonderful help. Thank you," she said, handing him the cab fare along with a huge monetary tip. Then she decided to offer him another, possibly more helpful tip. "By the way, you should stop by Fujiwara's Meat Shop. They have special sales after ten."
The old man's narrow eyes widened into huge circles. "But Miss Nakashima - "
"It's okay," she assured him. "You can give Mrs. Fujiwara my name. She will take care of you."
"Th-thank y-you," he stammered, bowing quickly.
Miyu watched him toddle back to the driver's seat of his yellow taxi cab. He would probably need a good meal after assisting her with these boxes. She glanced down at the heavy cargo waiting for her to tote them into the imposing white building stretching up the sky with shiny glass windows reflecting the blue sky and white clouds.
"Need a little help?"
Miyu turned to see Ginshi Shirazu standing beside the boxes already picking one up. His hair was different. Although shaved close to the scalp, he still sported the two little wild pieces sticking up at the crown of his head. Him cutting off his glorious, long blond mane surprised her. Something bad must have happened.
"That would be great," she sighed in relief, hefting the other up from the ground. "I like your hair."
"Thanks," he muttered, the smile falling from his face.
"How is your sister?" she inquired tentatively. Surely Haru had not taken a bad turn. The poor girl.
"She's the same. No worse...but no better either," he replied his voice hollow and desolate.
Poor Ginshi. He looked so looked despondent, weary - guilty. She wanted to ask what else was bothering him, but they had entered the building.
"I baked a chocolate cake I'd like for you try if you want to come by the cafe tonight," she offered.
"That would be awesome!" he exclaimed happily.
MIyu smiled only for it to vanish seconds later when Haise Sasaki appeared from around the corner.
"MIss Nakashima," Haise stated flatly, blinking at her with his big innocent eyes.
God, she wanted to slap him. That guileless face hid the fragmented, corrupt man and ghoul inside. Ken Kaneki had only become the frightening monster others had made him. One of those people included her.
"Are you here to see Arima?" he asked.
Hell no, I'm not here to see Arima - or you, she almost blurted before stopping herself.
"I'm actually here to see Dr. Shiba. I have to return some things to him," she said, not wanting to divulge she had been digging around in their medical files.
"Let me carry that for you," Haise insisted, reaching to take the box from her. His hands covered hers, making him blush. Quickly he moved his hands to another part of the box to take it from her.
"Well, if you don't mind taking those to him - "
"You're not coming?" He acted surprised.
"No. I should leave. I don't belong here," she said, turning on her heel to leave.
"You're not taking the job then?" The corners of his mouth drooped with disappointment.
Miyu shook her head. "No. It's not a good idea for anyone."
"Job? What job?" Shirazu questioned Sasaki.
"Arima offered her a position to be the therapist for the Quinx Squad. She used to work her as a counselor. And an investigator," he added, meeting her gaze as if to dare her to deny the facts.
"I wasn't an investigator," she corrected him. "I was Arima's back up. His helper."
"His guard dog," a soft, almost feminine, male voice butted in.
Miyu's head whipped to the right to see Furuta Nimura standing beside her giving her a leering grin, sickening in its fake friendliness. He was anything but a friend.
"Hello, Cerberus." He greeted her using the uncomplimentary nickname she had received from the other investigators. They gave her the name of the three headed demon dog guarding the gates of Hades as a one word commentary on her vicious fighting skills as well as her ferocious personality.
Furuta still looked the same. Skinny, delicate featured, pretty as a young teenage girl with a voice to match.
"You're still gorgeous I see. We really should chat some time so I can learn your skin care secret. I want to be be as beautiful as you are some day," she said with plenty of venom in her voice.
She ignored the shocked expressions on Sasaki and Shirazu's faces. They knew her as a kind, gentle soul. Lately, her true self had become more difficult to suppress. She could sympathize with Haise and his internal battle with Ken.
"Hmph," Furuta snorted, his expression collapsing into a severe glower.
"Frowning gives you wrinkles," she uttered, watching his face further deteriorate. Creases formed on his smooth brow and between his eyes.
"If you'll follow me, please," Haise interjected, elbowing the stubborn woman having a weird glaring contest with Furuta that was making everyone uncomfortable.
Miyu took his cue to offset an even uglier scene and turned to follow him down the hallway from where he had appeared earlier. She exhaled loudly when they entered the elevator at the end of the hallway.
"So you did work here," Shirazu murmured, pressing the button for the top floor. "Cerberus?"
"Please, don't ask. I'd rather not explain," she muttered, staring at her reflection in the shiny golden doors of the elevator.
Ugh, she groaned inwardly. Thunderstruck, reeling from seeing another unwelcome member of the CCG to remind her of her dark past, she wanted to run away. She had tried to run away as a matter of fact before Furuta had showed up. Lately, there was no where to run, no where to hide, no where to escape her past.
Her thoughts turned to home. Not her apartment above the cafe, but her real home in the mountains. Her father still lived there with a few other members of their colony. They stayed hidden away from the world, avoiding humans as much as possible. He had warned her not to stray from their sanctuary hidden among the trees and wildlife. Life was quiet, simple - free of humans and ghouls.
But she had wanted to visit where her mother had lived. She wanted to experience life as a human, live like her mother had lived. At this rate, she would die like her mother had died. She sighed long and deep; a sound full of frustration and remorse.
Her eyes caught Haise's in the mirror like finish of the door. He smiled at her. He possessed such a kind, genuine smile. Ken Kaneki had probably smiled like that before he became a ghoul. God damn this city anyway. The doors suddenly slid apart destroying both of their reflections.
"We will drop these off to Dr. Shiba, and I will see you out," Haise announced.
Miyu did not argue. Should she run into another investigator when she worked here before, she did not want to be alone. She waited in the hall by the elevator rather than following the two men down to Dr. Shiba's office. Although she would have liked to have a discussion with the good doctor, she doubted her ability to function on a professional level at this time.
When they returned, all three boarded the elevator. Shirazu pressed the button for the ninth floor. Sasaki pressed the button for the fifth floor instead of G for the ground level. Everyone nerve in her body stood up on end, her senses going on high alert.
"Don't forget about our meeting this afternoon," Haise told Shirazu when the doors opened for his floor.
"Yes, sir," he returned, nodding in acknowledgment.
"The ninth floor is the infirmary, isn't it?" she inquired after the doors closed. Being alone with him coupled with the silence sent her apprehension off the charts.
"Yes. He's going to see Haru," Haise answered. "I need to talk to you before you go."
"O-okay," she stuttered.
Her fingers were cold and numb, lacing and unlacing to quell her anxiety. The nervous movement did not help. She knew being alone with him was a bad idea. Kaneki was bound to show up. Obviously, he responded to her presence in a less than positive manner.
When they stepped off the elevator, a lengthy hallway stretched out in front of them. The entire floor was deserted, void of all personnel. Doors were closed and blinds tightly shut on either side of the empty hallway. Apparently all of the higher ups were in some kind of meeting today.
"Last door on the left," Haise indicated.
Miyu held her breath when he turned the knob and pushing open the door to allow her entry. It was the one office where the blinds were open, a single muted light in the corner switched on in the otherwise dark office.
"Thank you for your help, Haise," she said, turning to face him.
She gasped in astonishment when her nose almost smashed into his chest. Taking a step backwards, the desk halted her retreat.
"I really should be going now." She tried to slide to the left to escape from between him and the desk. He edged closing, trapping her in the already small space, forcing her to sit down on the desk.
"What's the hurry?" he asked, his voice low, menacing.
"Hello, Ken," she sighed. Her breathing was heavy, ragged, turning her voice into a raspy whisper.
"So nice to see you again," he whispered directly in her ear, his hot breath ghosting over her cheek. "Did you miss me?"
"How do you expect me to answer that?" she asked, starting when his hand rested on her hip. "No matter what I say it will be the wrong answer. If I say yes, I'm a liar. If I say no, I'm a bitch."
"Let me be frank with you, Miss Nakashima," he murmured, his chest vibrating against hers as he spoke. "You're a lying bitch no matter what you say or do."
"You're right." She concurred wholeheartedly with his opinion of her. "I did awful things to you. I lied to you. I mistreated you. I abused you. I pushed you and pushed you and..."
"Say it," he hissed, pushing her down on the desk.
"I buried you. I tried to kill you," she confessed. She wanted to cry but could not find the sorrow or tears inside of her. Instead she was angry - and afraid. "I am so sorry, Ken."
"Every day, I've thought about you." He spoke to her in a soft, carefully measured voice as if attempting to comfort a terrified, cornered animal. "I've thought about what I would do to you if I ever found you."
His fingers pulled the dark purple button down shirt out of her skirt, his fingers slipping under the satiny fabric. He pressed his frigid fingertips to her side, sliding them upward.
"Ken, don't," she begged him but his fingers did not cease their upward climb.
"Do you ever think about me?" he asked.
MIyu bit her lower lip to hold back a scream when his fingers brushed over the marred tissue where he had skewered her. The nerve endings under the skin there had never quite healed correctly afflicting the area with a numb, tingling sensation when touched. He stroked the skin lightly, bringing a pins and needles sensation to her side.
"Yes," she replied truthfully through her gritted teeth.
"Of course you think about me. I'm in your head, crawling through your brain. Always there. Never forgotten." He continued rubbing the scar until she began trembling. His hands were cold - like a dead man's. "Do you remember the day I gave you these scars? A matching set. I thrusted into you so hard. I went so deep."
"Shut up," she commanded him in a hoarse whisper, turning her face away from him when the tip of his nose bumped the end of hers.
The sexual innuendo disgusted her and infuriated her. He grabbed her side, pinching the sensitive skin until she yelped. Then he returned to stroking her scar gently. His other hand skimmed along her belly over the top of her shirt.
"You still feel me sometimes. Don't you? I'm there...squirming, thrusting...writhing around inside you...touching you in a way no one has ever touched you before and never will again."
"Stop it, Ken," she bit out angrily, repulsed by the double entendre.
His palm pressed to her throat, his fingers extending along the sides of her neck.
"You always called me by my first name. So familiar. Like family. Like a mother," he exhaled, flexing his fingers around her neck, exerting enough pressure to make her gasp for air. "I trusted you. I thought you wanted to help me."
"I did. I did want to help you," she croaked, struggling to breathe. "I just did all of the wrong things to do that. I was ambitious and selfish. I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that!" he yelled, releasing her. "I don't want to hear it anymore!"
"Kill me. Stop the pain for both of us. I won't resist," she said, her eyes meeting his.
His eyes swam with tears. The hurt and sadness lying in the dark gray depths made her heart ache. She was tired; tired of running from her guilt, from her past, and, mostly, from him.
"Killing you won't help," he returned, glaring at her. "It won't stop the pain."
"I know." She put her arms around his shoulders, pulling his head down to her shoulder. "It will only make it worse. All I ever did was make you worse."
"Does it ever get better?" he sniffled.
"No, it never gets better," she answered truthfully. "You try to forget, but you can't. You learn to cope. But the pain is always there, threatening to consume you...to kill you."
"He's going to kill me, isn't he?" Haise was back. He pulled away from her, looking down at her. The tears brimming in his eyes overflowed his lower eyelids and spilled down his cheeks.
She nodded mutely, unable to speak. Her throat constricted to hold back the tears. It was also raw and scratchy from him choking her as well.
"But I don't..." He dropped to his knees in front of her, pressing his forehead to her belly. "But I don't want to die."
"I'm sorry, Haise," she apologized, wrapping her arms around his head. "You must understand something." She began swaying slightly, rocking him like a mother rocks a fussy infant. "You were never meant to exist Haise Sasaki. You were a fantasy, a fiction, an untruth. You never really existed at all. You should just die."
"Mother." The singular word spoken in a growl, coated with so much vitriol only one person could have said it that way - Ken Kaneki.
Jerking out of her arms, he stood up to come face to face with her again. Both of his hands encompassed her throat, squeezing, cutting off her air.
Miyu resisted her natural urge to strike him in an effort to protect herself. Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk under her behind instead of reaching up to claw at his grasping hands compressing her windpipe.
"Hit me. Slap me. Scream at me," he taunted her, bringing his lips extremely close to hers.
She would not beat on his chest or kick him because he wanted her to do those things. He needed her to struggle.
"Fight for your life...or you'll die," he threatened her.
Black lines started to wiggle across her line of vision. Starbursts of blinding white light exploded in front of her eyes. Her white knuckled grip on the desk slackened. She would lose consciousness soon, but she did not care.
When his words did not incite her to violence to free herself, he bellowed, "Punch me in the face! Claw my fucking eyes out! Goddammit woman! Hurt me!"
She knew he needed to engage her in full combat to completely enjoy killing her. Although everything within her prompted her to resist him, she smothered the desire to defend herself.
This is it. He's going to kill me, she thought, closing her eyes. I'm sorry, Kuki.
As her life ebbed away, her body sagging in his hands, Ken's fingers loosened their hold on her throat until his hands eventually fell away. His arms hung down, pendulous at his sides. Leaning forward, he pressed his sweaty forehead into her shoulder, nestling his head into the curve of her neck.
"You should be hitting me like you used to. You always reminded me of my mother. Cruel. Sadistic. Hateful. I wanted your attention. Craved it. When you gave it to me, I was happy. So insanely happy."
Her chest heaved under his head as she sucked in air, desperate to fill her starved lungs.
"Tell me something...why did you try to kill me back then?" Miyu questioned him, panting lightly. "You were never so shallow as to want to kill me for a simple matter of revenge. Not now and certainly not four years ago."
"You were leaving me. I needed you. If I killed you, I could eat you and you would always be with me," he explained. His naturally sinister tone made the blunt admission twice as creepy. His arms encircled her waist. "I loved you, Mother."
"What's going on here?" Arima demanded, entering his office.
"Arima," the young man holding her gasped. He immediately let her go, standing up straight and turning to face his superior.
Miyu was not yet sure if he was Ken or Haise. She did not care which personality now steered that vessel. She was leaving. Rushing forward, her hasty exit was stopped by Arima seizing her by the arm.
"What's wrong? You look scared out of your damn mind," he said to her, his eyes expressing concern as he took in her appearance.
"I am. I have to go, Kishou. I won't take the job. I can't do this."
She glanced back at the young man she guessed to be Haise at the moment; he looked as fearful and confused as he had after the incident in Arima's study. For the first time, she noticed that there was quite a bit more black in his hair. Only about an inch at the tips remained white.
"It won't be long before Haise's gone," she warned Arima.
"What can I do to stop it?"
Miyu shrugged. She actually felt sorry for the man seeing the cloud of fear creep into his incandescent silvery eyes diminishing their shining light. This was only the second time in her life she had seen fear in Kishou Arima's eyes.
"There's nothing anyone can do." The despair in his eyes ripped at her heart. She reached out to glide her fingers down his perfect porcelain cheek.
"Don't," he muttered, taking her hand in his and pulling it away from his face. "Don't take it away. Let me feel the pain. It makes me feel human."
Miyu stayed silent. She placed her hand on Arima's chest over his heart. The material of his white coat was the softest leather; expensive, well taken care of and well worn. She remembered when he had wrapped her in his coat to take her to the hospital after her fight with Kaneki.
His heart bumped against her palm as if might beat out of his chest. Sometimes this is how a heart feels when it's breaking.
"I hate feeling helpless. I wish there was something I could do," he murmured where only she could hear.
"There's nothing any of us can do. Not you. Not me. Not even Haise." Her gaze flickered back to the stunned and silently crying young man leaning against the desk. Inclining her head toward Arima, she whispered, "Be prepared to tell him good-bye, Kishou."
"Is he the only one I should be telling good-bye?"
"Good-bye, Kishou Arima," she said with a sad note of finality.
"I can't bring myself to say the good in good-bye so I will bid you farewell, Miyu Nakashima."