cras credemus, hodie nihil
chapter one
"tomorrow we believe, but not today"
In light of a failed investigation, First-class Investigator Mado Akira and Rank 1 Investigator Sasaki Haise stroll down the hallway, careful to avoid any encounter with the Hirako squad in their wake. It is late in the afternoon, and the building is quiet, save for the low humming of the RC scan gate as investigators come in and out of the 1st Ward Main Office.
"What is this?" Akira asks, shaking the container as if doing so would provide her with some plausible answer. The can she holds is dented and worn, and Akira can faintly read the ghost of a makeshift apology letter on its label, written sloppily in blue ball-point ink.
"Red bean soup," Haise supplies unhelpfully. "It's Shirazu-kun's peace offering for your forgiveness, I think."
The first-class investigator sighs. "It's unfortunate that the operation was a failure, but it was unavoidable. Reconnaissance is never perfect, and all we can do now is regroup and find another way to tail Nutcracker." What a shame. Red bean was never particularly her favorite.
Haise opens his mouth, about to thank her for the reassurance. However, he stops short of responding, his eyes widening slightly as he turns to peer past Akira's figure. "Akira-san, there's someone waiting by the entrance. She looks like she's an investigator, but I don't seem to recognize her."
The woman's attire matches well with First-class Investigator Mado Akira's in its uniform whiteness, and in her dull eyes bear the same weariness and grainy roughness that gathers and blooms over years of hunting ghouls and watching comrades die. Her hair is dark and cut shorter at the shoulder, slightly wavy in a manner that brings a certain liveliness that the rest of her person fails to embody. Grey eyes dart from the door to the wall, and she looks somewhat frustrated.
However, upon spotting the two, the stranger appears immediately excited and she quickly makes her way over to greet them.
"Akira, long time no see!" The woman cries out, turning to shake hands with Haise's companion, but not before shooting a curious glance at Haise, gaze lingering for the briefest of moments.
"Ah, hello, I'm Rank 1 Investigator Sasaki Haise," he introduces himself from the side with a friendly smile. Yūhi faintly observes the way his fingers wring through the back of his duo-toned hair. "You've worked with Akira-san before?" (Somehow, looking at him almost makes her want to mourn —to mourn over what loss, she never really understood.)
He has on the standard CCG uniform, from the common white trench coat on his body to the polished shoes on his two feet. Yet despite this, she still feels a sense of uneasiness about him, and she makes sure to stand a distance a ways from the boy. Something dreadful lurches into her throat, and she becomes mildly aware that —yes, he is a ghoul. Her mouth feels parched, but she ignores it all the same.
"Oh yeah, Akira and I go way back," Yūhi replies. As a generous afterthought, she adds, "In fact, at our first meeting, Akira almost died by my own hands. Literally!" Yūhi watches the younger male's face begin to pale.
"Please, don't remind me," Akira remarks dryly, shooting a glance towards Haise that told him to dismiss the other woman's shenanigans. "I'm having war flashbacks."
The brunette shakes her head solemnly, throwing an arm around her old classmate's shoulders and ignoring said woman's resulting grimace. "I feel you, Akira. It's not easy being this bad from birth."
"Uh," Haise says intelligently.
"In any case, I don't want to keep you two from… whatever it is you both were doing," Yūhi chuckles, releasing the first-class investigator from her hold as she shimmies off to the side, being careful not to meet the half-ghoul's eyes. "I just thought it would only be polite to say hello. I should be meeting the chairman in his office soon for my newest assignment anyway."
She's about to walk around the two and continue her way down the hall, having gained a newly found sense of direction, but she's stopped when Akira grabs her by the shoulder with both hands to spin her right back around.
"Actually," Akira interrupts, making sure to smooth down her own ruffled hair, "you'll be under my charge for now, as well as under Rank 1 Investigator Haise here."
At Haise's look of confusion, she quickly explains, "Rank 1 Investigator Ikehara Yūhi has been transferred here from the 7th ward to be the support in our squad."
"Support?" He echoes, looking warily from Akira to Yūhi. He wonders if the higher-ups have already caught wind of what had happened while investigating the Nutcracker, and if this sudden addition is punishment for his own incompetence as a mentor.
Frowning, the other woman pulls Akira aside, being sure to have their backs facing the boy. From the close distance they stand beside one another, the young Mado can almost feel the intense antagonism that radiates off of Yūhi.
"So tell me, whose brilliant idea was it to place me into the quinx squad?" Yūhi deadpans, glancing darkly behind at the nervous Haise who stood waiting. Yūhi notes that his hand had again moved up to grasp at his hair, and she frowns. "In case no one noticed, I'm not a quinx."
Akira appears deep in thought, carefully considering what information to give or withhold. "Your father was responsible for intercepting a large number of organized ghoul circles notorious for human trafficking activity in the 7th ward."
"I'm not my father, either," she counters sharply. Surprised at her own curtness, Yūhi clears her throat before continuing. "You know I don't have the specialized expertise that my parents did, and I'm certainly not fit to be on the front lines. I don't even have a quinque."
"That's why if you had listened to me in the first place, you'd have heard that I'd said that you are the squad's support unit," the blonde emphasizes, evidently exasperated at the other woman's disagreeable nature. "We could really use a bureau investigator to help us follow case leads and organize information."
Yūhi stares at her for a couple of seconds longer. When it doesn't seem as though any of Akira's hairs are catching on fire, she decides to stop and redirect her withering glare towards Haise instead.
Finally, she says, "Okay, I give."
Akira looks almost satisfied with herself, bringing her hands together at her chest. "Excellent. Haise and I will show you around your new living quarters, then." Without missing a beat, she strides down the hall swiftly and absolutely.
From behind, the two investigators share an unspoken look of apprehension and horror, until finally falling in step with their superior.
.
.
.
As it turned out, all members of the quinx squad were living in a shared home, built on the same grounds as the CCG Main Office. The walk there is short and rushed, and neither woman makes any attempt to start small talk. Years of knowing each other's company makes the silence comfortable, but for Haise, the quiet is awkward and intimidating.
"You know, I accidentally swallowed some food coloring yesterday," he starts, "Dr. Shiba says I'm fine, but I feel like I've dyed a little inside."
"Oh my god," Yūhi says.
They finally reach the house, and Yūhi is mildly fascinated. It's rather homely and quaint, namely different from the steely CCG building that lies right beside it. The three of them step onto the porch. Haise reaches into his pockets and pulls out his house key, ready to open the door, and when he does, Yūhi sees that there are three investigators already relaxing in the common room.
The room itself is broad and spacious, looking as though it were built to house much, much more than five people. A boy with light orange hair sits on the couch in front of the television, feet propped on the coffee table, as he immerses himself in a generic action thriller. From the moment he snickers, Yūhi notes that his teeth are shark-like, and she begins to feel a little unsettled. Sitting beside him, there is another investigator, and this individual's most distinguishing feature is the eyepatch on his face, which is bright and contrasts strongly with the rest of his smooth, olive skin. Another boy is leaning against the wall, furthest away from the rest of everyone, and Yūhi is the most nervous about this one.
"Great," Haise comments cheerfully, standing off to the side to allow the other two inside the home. "So everyone's here."
"Um, aren't there supposed to be four quinxes in this squad?" Yūhi asks, disinterested. "I've already read the files."
Haise suddenly looks very uncomfortable.
"Who are you?" The boy against the wall presses. He has purple hair, two moles below his left eye, and Yūhi tartly notes that he appears to be sizing her up. But the verdict is apparently less than satisfactory, and his intimidating glare soon simmers down to a grimace of mild annoyance.
"Urie-kun," Haise warns tersely.
The other two don't appear to be as alarmed, and instead, they look towards their mentor, waiting for his orders before acting on their impulses.
Akira decides to break the news, and Haise watches from the back. "This is Rank 1 Investigator Ikehara Yūhi. Due to recent circumstances, she will be accompanying the quinx squad for an indefinite period of time. She will also be sharing these living arrangements with the rest of you, so please do well to treat her appropriately."
"The hell's that?!" The toothy boy becomes suddenly defensive, swinging his feet off the table to stand up. "Is it 'cause of what I did last week? It had nothin' to do with Sassan, so quit pullin' a tight leash on 'im!"
The boy with the eyepatch becomes visibly worried. "Shirazu-kun..."
"It's alright, Mutsuki-kun," Haise reassures him. "Shirazu-kun, this has nothing to do with the Nutcracker investigation." Or, at least, he hoped not.
He turns to address the newcomer. "We don't have an extra room, Ikehara-san—"
"Yūhi is fine," she corrects briskly.
"—I mean, Yūhi-san, so you'll have to double up with Mutsuki-kun for the time being," Haise rubs the back of his neck, looking truly apologetic. He honestly hadn't expected an addition to the team on such short notice.
Yūhi pauses, before asking, "Isn't Rank 3 Investigator Mutsuki Tooru a male?" (She hesitates. That's what it says on the documents, but somehow she's not entirely certain herself.)
"Ahaha, yes," the mentor laughs nervously. "But he's also the least threatening out of the other three." After a few seconds, he adds tastefully, "Towards people."
Yūhi steals a glance at Mutsuki warily. "Just wondering, but who usually cooks dinner around here?" She questions, noticing that there was no clock anywhere nearby. She commits this to future memory, noting that it would be useful to have one in the living room. But is it even the right hour for dinner? It had been a long day, and while a large portion of her time had been dedicated to her travel from the 7th ward to the 1st, standing in a crowd of new people for too long always remains to be the most exhausting part.
"Sassan, usually," Shirazu pipes in. Somehow, his curt answer seems to leave more room for explanation, but he doesn't continue.
Yūhi shoots Haise an unimpressed look, who laughs sheepishly. "You guys do know that your mentor can't actually palate human food, right?"
No one says anything. Urie glowers at her from his place at the back of the room.
"Okay, from now on, I will be cooking dinner," Yūhi exclaims, when it didn't seem like anyone else was going to contribute. She stares pleadingly at Akira, who still stood beside her, and the latter woman sighs in defeat.
Akira turns to link arms with the brunette, leading Yūhi to the quinxes' kitchen. "And I'll be helping with the preparations for tonight, it seems."
Soon, it is a couple of hours in, and no sounds are heard in the kitchen, except for the murmuring simmer of vegetables boiling on the stove top and the guillotining of fresh salmon sliced at the counter. From here, Yūhi can hear the quinxes fight over a game of blackjack gone horribly wrong.
"This is uncharacteristically quiet of you, Yū," Akira jokes. "Something on your mind?" She gently lifts the cover of the cooking pot, peeking under to check if the asparagus has yet softened.
"There's another reason I've been transferred to the 1st ward, isn't there?" Yūhi asks lowly, her voice dropping to a faint mumble. "Just give it to me up straight."
After a moment of hesitance, the first-class investigator finally answers. "There has been an alarming number of complaints regarding your hostility towards the other investigators in your ward, Yūhi," Akira sighs, bringing a hand up to massage her impending migraine. "It's important that you learn to get along with your co-workers and develop a friendly relationship with them."
The brunette pauses to glare half-heartedly at the other woman, leaving a sharp, crisp knife suspended above the piece of raw salmon. Its blood runs down the wood, waiting patiently on the cutting board. "Are you saying that I don't have friends? Because I do."
The ghoul investigator raises an eyebrow, patiently beckoning Yūhi to continue.
Yūhi rolls her eyes, stopping to lean an elbow against the marble counter, as she pointedly draws a circle in the air with the kitchen knife. "You're my friend. Duh."
"I'm not part of your ward, Yūhi."
"Okay," she throws her hands up, affronted. "What about Arima? He's my friend. I have two friends."
"He's your superior. Also, he's not part of the 7th ward either." It was true. She was bluffing. Yūhi had never even spoken to the man outside of the workplace.
"Whatever! That still doesn't explain why I'm here and not there," Yūhi argues as she sets the knife down onto the counter. "If you want me to play footsies with everyone in 7th, then I will, but there's no way I can do it if I'm stuck in this branch, in this squad helping your goddamn half ghoul wannabes—"
"—and that's the other reason why you've been placed in the quinx squad's support," the first-class investigator cuts in fiercely. "Do you really believe that your hatred and spite for ghouls will help you achieve your goals? I know you're still hurt about your parents' deaths, and I am, too. After my mother died, I was angry and resentful, and after my father passed, sometimes I felt like I wanted nothing more than to set this entire world on fire."
Yūhi remains silent and unmoving, even as Akira meets suddenly to place a firm hand on her arm —even as she comes close enough for Yūhi to see the exhaustion and grief haunting the violet of her irises. It is something that lingers in the periphery of her concerns, a mutual understanding validated in this moment, that the two of them finally address for the first time since the incident in the 24th Ward. The loss of both parents as martyrs to humanity's ultimate cause, they know, is a sacrifice greater than should ever be asked from a pair of tired and lonely children.
"It hurts, and sometimes these scars don't ever heal," Akira continues quietly, "but believe me when I say that these wounds will get better with time and company."
.
.
.
It isn't until the middle of the night, when Mutsuki is lying on his bed reading and Yūhi is on her cot dreaming, that she really looks at him. Yūhi looks at Mutsuki Tooru, and she finds it so difficult to see a human, and this anxiety leaves her dizzy with confusion —threatens to drag her under and drown her in its heavy waves.
She wonders: for what price would a person willingly give up his life to harness the strength of a ghoul? At what cost does it become morally acceptable for an organization to allow this to happen?
It is only when her eyes fall on his white eyepatch, on the cotton fabric that hides greater power of the darkest kind —indication of a boy whose humanity has been signed away to the devil complete with the medical paperwork, that she decides to pop her actual question.
"Sasaki?" He asks, looking up at her from his light reading. Yūhi sees that it's an instructional pamphlet on how to control one's chakra. She says nothing, really, because she's already read the files.
"Yeah. Would you say that he's a good mentor?" Yūhi repeats her query again, taking another glance around the bedroom. It's plain, decorated with only the essentials: a bed, a dresser, and a desk. Briefly, Yūhi wonders why Mutsuki hasn't bought himself a bookshelf, because there are various karate manuals, mens' fashion magazines, and spiritual self-help books scattered haphazardly across the wood panel flooring. The CCG hasn't ordered a spare mattress yet, so she's left to lie on the mess for the night.
"He is," Mutsuki replies, smiling. "Sensei lent me all these books, and when we ran into Serpent, he saved us even though he—" Suddenly, he ceases speaking, as though there is something in the air that stops him.
Yūhi watches him for a bit longer, and he fidgets under her long, fixed stare. Finally, she turns over and pulls the covers up to her chest.
"I know," she says. "I've already read the files."
Author's note: I'm sure that Mutsuki does whatever he can to try and make himself useful to the rest of the squad. I think, being unable to use his kagune can develop into an inferiority complex somewhere further down the line. I'm sure that when you get desperate, you start to believe that mental and spiritual balances might play a role in drawing out one's abilities...?!
I said this is a self-insert, but it's not really? She's actually pretty different from me, so I guess she's an OC... but also, with SI elements?! I dunno! Sassan is pretty much my son, but he is getting some pretty bad treatment here.