-108 Diplomacy and Insults—

Not an ambush. Probably not. That made for only a bigger question. "Exactly what do you want?"

"Right now? Right now, we want to enjoy our drinks and make conversation with…a colleague in our same field."

A student wandered past, frowned at us speaking in English, and walked on with a muttered comment on foreigners.

"As for how we know that," his companion leaned in over the small table, "apparently our boss spent time bonding with yours much like we're doing right now. Regis says Monica is beside herself missing you by the way, and apparently stole your plastic cactus."

Shit. These guys were for real. "You could've led with that last part."

"Had to make sure it was actually being said to the right man." The other man took over as his partner took several gulps of his drink. "Hell. I don't know which of us is in more danger from having this meeting."

"So, what now?"

"Now?" He slid a flip phone across the table with a rasp of plastic on plastic. "We keep our contact minimized. We'll be in touch."

"One final thing," The other guy made a gesture around his mouth. "You might want to look at wearing a mask. You're looking…sharky."

And then they left just as quickly as they had came. Now I had three phones, which was crossing into the realm of a strange amount to own. The whole experience was strange to the point of being uncanny; Australians—Australians from some unknown governmental agency—didn't just pop up out of nowhere for no reason. I groaned. Why couldn't anything be straightforward? All this beating around the bush and indirect work was steadily melting through my patience.

I needed to find an outlet before I got stir crazy. Couldn't bite at my cheek anymore unless I wanted to carve my mouth into a bloody mess, so that was out. Touka and Kaneki not being together to train meant I couldn't have a mind-clearing two-on-one—Kaneki had suggested inviting Tsukiyama; absolutely not.

Seeing what Tsukiyama had brought into the house after returning from surveying the twentieth ward did nothing to help my mood.

"The heck are these?"

"Dress clothes, naturally."

That was obvious. "Why are they here?"

Tsukiyama almost said something.

"First impressions," Kaneki descended the stairs, "are very important."

And of course he was dressed up.

"In ghoul diplomacy," Tsukiyama continued, "being dressed to kill is just as important as being able to kill. It shows a certain civilization, and a level of organization that is rarely seen in the average street gang."

There wasn't any argument to get me into the outfit; if Kaneki was wearing it, I was as well. I had worn formalwear on the trip to Tokyo after all, and this was much more relaxed. It was the first time I had felt 'cool' in a long time. Banjou, however looked uncomfortable enough to be funny. And then we had to rush because Tsukiyama took his sweet time getting ready when he could've been telling me what the hell the two elastic loops in my pile of clothes were for. I wasn't going to ask how he had gotten my size though—some questions I really didn't need to know the answer to.

The black leather on Kaneki's new eyepatch caught the light was we rode out on the train we had barely caught. It certainly made him look a little more mature than the old medical one had. The fact that he wasn't wearing grandad sweater with a bowl cut helped too. Banjou complained that we'd have to be running the whole way thanks to Tsukiyama, while he in turn informed and helped position the elastic bands on my arms. When I had asked if I had forgotten a tie, he had simply shook his head and noted that I would have been uncomfortable.

"Look. Twelve seconds early."

This was going to be one of those meetings.

Of course Orca was yet another bar. Was this a thing with Japanese ghouls? I only knew that American ghouls tended to base out of funeral parlors and shipping businesses.

Kaneki did the talking; even nervous, he did look and sound the part of a leader. Hopefully the three of us were providing some moral support even if we were just standing about. Tsukiyama was hanging onto every word, Banjou had a glassy look like he was in mental neutral, and my eyes wandered about the room.

There were three other ghouls here. Behind the bar, the oldest—maybe fifty at most—patiently worked his way through the cups and glasses on the bar, looking the least concerned about the whole meeting. In front of said bar was a woman, second best dressed behind Shuu and looking to be equally invested in the conversation despite her folded arms. Finally was the guy who was rubbing me the wrong way and was somehow the spokesperson for the ghouls of the sixth ward, Giru. Something about his barely-held contempt gave him such a punchable aura.

Kaneki and Giru had made it to the subject of the escape of Shachi and other ghouls from Cochlea before the tension spiked.

"How do you expect me to trust any of that? Who the hell is your informant that they can know any of that?"

Tsukiyama moved to deflect. "I'm not at liberty to reveal the source, but to do something as inelegant as lie-"

"Then don't." I interjected, nodding toward the irritant. "I sourced that data."

"And I am verifying the minutiae." Tsukiyama continued, trying to defuse the death glares Giru and I were flashing. "We have joined hands in this as our interest in this matter are just as vested as yours."

"Then why hasn't Shachi returned to our place? He's our boss, regardless of what some flunkie foreigner claims!"

Banjou shifted to halfway block my path to Giru—he had watched me enough to know that word was a particularly dangerous way to address me. Three ghouls in the sixteenth also knew it physically.

It took Kaneki to wrench the meeting back into civility. "Aogiri would be the reason Shachi would not have returned. They recruit actively, and do so aggressively to drag the strongest ghouls into their ranks."

"Aogiri would be a non-starter for him." The lady butted in. "Shachi is what you could call 'a ghoul with a heart'. No needless killing, no idiotic fits of violence like those White Suits—everything he does has purpose behind it. Not to mention he's willing to talk things out rather than fight."

"If that's the case...then that would be bad news. If he refused Aogiri, then he probably would have been killed and eaten, because of the rumor about cannibalism making a ghoul stronger."

Giru was on his feet, dropping his foot on the coffee table between him and Kaneki hard enough that it emitted a muted crunch. Banjou stepped up in case something escalated, but Kaneki waved him back. I, however, was about ready to kill the loudmouth.

"What the hell are you implying, you little upstart!"

Kaneki continued as if the outburst had never happened. "I hope that isn't the case."

After the meeting however, he was frustrated. Kaneki had this walk he did after fights where I had bested him a little too quickly, or when he was dissatisfied with how a fight had gone.

"Well, at least we got something about Shachi out of it." The words sounded stupid even to me.

"Nothing that shows a light out of this dead end though." Kaneki's sigh echoed back down from the girders of the overpass. "Tsukiyama, I think we should perhaps move ahead with the idea you had."

"I suppose we should've expected this." Tsukiyama chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder. "Ha, in that case we should make sure our resident reaper is as ready as you are to move ahead with—ah, Giru. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

I dared to hope that he was looking for a fight. Banjou settled lower, not that he'd be use if it actually came to that.

"Giru," Kaneki stepped in front of me, "is there some additional business we missed?"

"You're the problem, you eyepatch. You and your other one-eyed foreigner butt buddy." He jabbed an accusing finger in my direction. "And yes, we figured you out after doing our homework about who carved out territory in the sixteenth! What the hell are you up to, taking in some foreigner, cozying up to us and making trouble behind our backs!"

"I apologize if Allen is rubbing you the wrong way. We aren't trying to cause any trouble for you or the sixth ward."

The look on the man's face didn't imply this was going to have a diplomatic solution. I nudged Kaneki aside and stepped forward.

"If you have a problem with me, say it to my face. You want to fight?" I shrugged, making sure to keep my teeth hidden behind my smile. "Let's fight."

Behind me, I heard Kaneki mutter to try not to kill him. Giru's eyebrow twitched at the request and he swung at me like I had insulted him personally.

The first few blows he threw dashed the high hopes for a good fight. Easy to deflect or dodge, and equally easy to take advantage of poor footwork and send him stumbling. Clearly self-taught. If not for my overriding need for a fight, I would've passed. Letting a few more strikes whiff only seemed to irritate him further.

"What's wrong, foreigner?" And there went any reluctance I had. "Still wanna f—"

His last word ended up hurled back down his throat. I had an idea what he was going to say anyway. Besides, the snaps of his wrist and arm breaking was much more pleasant to hear than his voice. Tking advantage of his stance and getting him flat on his back was easy, pinning him with a foot grinding into his good arm—also easy. Ignoring the little voice telling me to rip off the good arm at the elbow? Very hard. Leaning down, I settled for the next best thing.

"Next time you call me foreigner," I didn't bother hiding my toothy smile. "I'll eat you."

"We shouldn't be quarreling over trivialities." Kaneki stepped in, pulling me out of the losing battle with the little voice. "Not when we need to be focusing on the bigger picture."

I stepped back to let Giru stand back up, and more importantly, far enough to keep from lunging at him if he did anything else particularly stupid. The others hadn't heard what I had said. Hopefully.

"Trivialities. You say that, but your comrades are..." The broken bones in his arm set themselves into position with a snap. "troublemakers. People like that don't bring anything good, just like that brat."

Kaneki cocked his head to the side. "With 'that brat' being Rize?"

Giru said nothing, but it was on the trip back that Kaneki noted that it basically was a confirmation that Rize had been involved in the sixth and whatever had happened to Shachi. The question I had of 'what now' was quickly answered by Tsukiyama, of all people.

"Ah well, I suppose we'll have to try that now. I did tell you we may want to attack that route before reaching out to the sixth. Do you want me to share the plan we concocted, or should I?"

Why did the grin on his face make me think it wasn't going to be something fun.

"The restaurant?" Kaneki shook his head. "We'll do that later, after Hinami gets back from Touka's place."

Nodding, I looked back out the window at the city slipping by.

It would've been so much easier if Itiori had possessed Kanou's whereabouts. Kaneki had been able to get the man's background on one of his trips to her bar, but that wasn't much help in actually finding the doctor. Wish I had been able to tag along on that trip, but Kaneki had only told me after he had gotten back.

At least we got a little information about Aogiri; popped up from the twenty-fourth ward—hadn't been able to find that on any map yet—plus the confirmation that their eleventh ward base was bait to draw the CCG away from Cochlea. More impractical was their alleged-slash-vague goal of 'uncovering liars'. Understanding whatever that meant was far beyond me, even assuming it was true. For all I knew, it could've been a cultural reference because I could think of no scenario where an army of ghouls was needed to sniff out a liar. All you'd need is maybe five or six—or just two if they were as good Irimi and Hinami.

Kaneki had shared one more bit of information, and only with me: that the legendary 'One-Eyed King' was possibly 'a lady wrapped in bandages'. I hadn't shared with Kaneki that a personally terrifying possibility that it was likely true. Something about her was just—I didn't know, and didn't know if I wanted to find out or stay un-mauled.

Speaking of potential mauling, Touka had arrived with Hinami early back at the house.

"You!"

The textbook she was poring over at the table in the kitchen was closed with a snap that made Hinami and Banjou jump.

"It's been two. Months. Two months since you've told me anything." And Touka was pissed.

"I—I didn't want to drag you into anything," It was funny to see Kaneki meek after the commanding presence he had at the meeting. "or risk putting you into a bad—"

Touka flexed. "See these? I've been training with Allen three days a week. I can get myself out of any trouble you cause, idiot!"

"I, well, it's just that..."I wasn't sure if Kaneki was at a rare loss for words or just that intimidated by Touka all but demanding he check her out. "Allen, help."

"She's a better fighter than Banjou and his merry men." There was a muffled protest from the living room. "Sounds like the right time for her to ask, since you wanted to plan out some new operation."

If the look he gave me was any indication, Kaneki had been looking for my support in keeping Touka out, but he should've known better. She was too stubborn to let his protests be more than a speed bump, not to mention she had asked about him basically every time we had trained. Apparently, this was also obvious to Tsukiyama, because he took the lead and led the unused bedroom upstairs and revealed the plan he and Kaneki had been tinkering with.

Touka had a few ideas on how to improve it, being the crafty college student that she was. Not sure how much I liked the plan even with the alterations. Kind of hard to, when it called for you to be the bait.