"The sword does not feel the pain that it inflicts. Do not ask it about suffering." - Philip Hallie

The call came in at 5 a.m., rousing Senior Special Agent Ulrich from his sleep. It was Hetfield's voice on the other end: "A body was found in the Haight, SFPD just turned it over to us." Ulrich was in uniform and on the scene in thirty minutes. He ducked under the crime scene tape blocking off the alley. Hetfield was standing over a pile of bones as two techs swabbed and probed, two more were on their knees examining a mound of flesh near the alley wall, all illuminated by bright flood lights the team had set up on both ends of the alley. Hetfield turned his head and spoke over his shoulder "Poor bastard is just bones now, save for his squashed head over there." He tilted his head towards the mound of flesh. Ulrich nodded, "We should check with Moretti, see what cases are active in..." "I already did." Hetfield interrupted as he turned to face his partner. "There hasn't been a ghoul attack in Haight-Ashbury in six months." Ulrich squinted. "So it's someone new, think it's that girl the CCG said was coming? They said she didn't like brains," he said, putting his hands on his hips. "That's my guess too, could be a coincidence, but they're sweeping for kagune remnants right now. We'll know for certain in a few days." "If they find anything," Ulrich added pessimistically. "Regardless, she's the best guess we have. Maybe it's time to release the photo we have and hope we get a lead." After a moment of silence to study the scene Ulrich spoke up again "Any witnesses at all so far?" "Besides the drunk who found the body, just one."

At 7 a.m. the duo were at a diner two blocks from the scene ordering breakfast. Almost as soon as their order was placed the bell near the front door rang, and Special Agents Trujillo and Hammett gave smiles as they approached the table. This routine kept them sane, according to any of the four GID Agents. "Any breakthroughs on the ear collector?" Hetfield said, almost taunting the other team. "Actually, yes." Ulrich raised an eyebrow. "We know he's in Strawberry, had a survivor come talk to us yesterday. Made it out by pure luck, but he still got one of her ears." Hetfield eyes hung low, clearly the lead hadn't improved his mood at all. "How did she survive, exactly?" Ulrich questioned, survivors of ghoul attacks were always suspicious; one could never be certain that they weren't a ghoul themselves, or harboring a ghoul that protected them. "I know what you're thinking, but her story is solid. They were in an alley when he jumped on her, pinned her down, and as he was ripping her left ear off with his teeth a car pulled into the alley. Driver took a huge gamble and floored it, luckily she went right between all the tires, he wasn't so lucky and got rammed." "Jesus" Hetfield chimed in. "But, we haven't been able to identify the driver, and her descriptions of him seem inaccurate compared to other statements we've gotten," Trujillo added, as he examined his coffee. Always the stickler, the others thought. 'Likely just dazed and couldn't remember," Ulrich started, "I doubt there's more than one ear freak in this area." "You never fuckin know with ghouls," Hammett added with a chuckle. "So do you guys have a new case now that the Black Cat and her little troop has been dealt with?" Hammett inquired. "Actually yes," Hetfield started, "We think we're onto that girl the CCG said was coming. Were interviewing a witness later today." "Oh? That cute one?" Hammett said with a smile that disgusted the other agents. "You're vile," Ulrich whispered as he looked out the window.

The clock in the interview room read 9 a.m. Hetfield and Ulrich sat across from an elderly man wearing a filthy bomber coat and a red trucker hat. His face was wrinkly, and his eyes hadn't moved off the table since he sat down. Ulrich reprimanded himself for the disgust he felt every time he studied the man. He had passed a blood test earlier in the day, his account was simple: while sleeping in his car he woke up to the sound of voices, and watched a bloodied girl, visibly dazed, get into a car with 4 teenagers. He had originally reported what he thought was a kidnapping to SFPD, only to be told to give his witness testimony to the GID on account of the nearby ghoul attack. The room had fallen silent since the man had finished speaking, save for the scratching of pencils on notebooks. Hetfield and Ulrich wrote down every detail, Ulrich opened up his briefcase and retrieved a single photograph, her headshot. He placed it on the table and slid it to the man. "Is this her?"

The old man studied the innocent face in the photograph, a Japanese girl with short bobbed black hair in a white button-up shirt. Her face seemed emotionless, uncomfortably sterile, it sent a shiver down his spine. "Could be." Ulrich and Hetfield exchanged a glance and a shared thought, "Good enough." Without any kagune remnants to test, this was their only lead.

Ulrich and Hetfield excused themselves and exited the room, Hetfield lit a cigarette as they stood in the hallway.

"That really isn't much to go off of," Hetfield whispered with a disappointed sigh after his first drag.

"For now at least, we know she's at least found her next prey. It should only be a matter of time till another body turns up."

"That's fucked up," Hetfield said with a smile.

"It's the truth," Ulrich snapped back, frustrated, "Ghouls are animals, predictable creatures. I was just stating a fact."

"Those poor kids," Hetfield whispered, with a slight chuckle.

"They brought this on themselves."

"They probably thought they were helping someone." Hetfield corrected.

"Shoulda gone to SFPD then. Fuck 'em." Ulrich said callously, as he turned to walk down the hallway.

Ulrich checked his watch as he finally sat down at his desk, it read 11 a.m. The news should be showing the girl's photograph around now, he thought, which reminded him to take care of a particular formality. He punched the number for a long-distance call to the CCG Main office in Tokyo. After three transfers Ulrich finally recognized the gruff voice he had heard before. "This is Bureau Director Tsuneyoshi Washuu, to whom am I speaking?" His voice was stern and discomforting, even Ulrich found himself intimated. "This is Senior Special Agent Adam Ulrich, with the Ghoul Investigation Division, I simply wanted to inform you that we can confirm the presence of the ghoul you informed us about in San Francisco." "We expect her capture and return soon then," Tsuneyoshi replied in a lighter tone than before, perhaps pleased by the good news. Ulrich's brow ruffled as he studied the man's words. "Capture?" he questioned. "We were not informed that she would need to be captured, sir. The GID does not capture ghouls." The man on the other end of the phone let out a groan. "You do now. Her extermination would be unacceptable." Ulrich was growing frustrated, ultimately however this would be between the Director and the CCG. If he saw her she was dead, he decided. "I see," Ulrich said, before the line cut.

Tsuneyoshi hung up the phone aggressively, he sat for a moment contemplating in his dark office, before picking it up again and dialing a new number. A clean, gentlemanly voice answered, "Tsuneyoshi, good to hear from you. Have you found her?" "Yes," Tsuneyoshi answered, "She's in San Francisco, California." "Ah." the other voice sounded pleased, "Can we expect her back soon then?" "Doubtful, the Americans seem unreliable." There was a lull in the conversation as both of the men thought to themselves. "Guess Ill have to go get her myself then. Your father did say I have to clean this up if I want her."

"I'll make arrangements with the FBI for you. Catch a plane there." Tsuneyoshi said, in his methodical, calculating voice.

"Certainly. I appreciate the assistance Tsuneyoshi, I'm sure she will be grateful as well."

"Just bring her home, Kaiko."

Two phones fell back onto their resting spots.