Akira realizes she's not always the smartest person in the room.

Akira was scheduled to spend most of the morning running drills with Hirako's Squad Zero recruits. It was miserable—she was exhausted from the night before, and jittery from the caffeine.

It was a huge relief when Arima stopped by before lunch. He opted to cut in and do a bit of sparring with them.

She watched from the sidelines of the training facility, mesmerized by the speed and grace of Arima's movements in the midmorning light. Battle wasn't some neatly choreographed dance, but Arima always made it look so effortless.

He can't be the one. Can he? We're all dead if it is him.

The rookies probably thought he was putting them through the ringer, but Akira could tell how much he was taking it easy on them. Within twenty minutes, an immaculate Arima was looking down at all of them gasping for breath on the ground.

He turned his head to look at Akira with an amused smile. "Would you like to grab lunch?"

"Yes, sir."

They grabbed a table outside of the small employees-only bistro in the training facility. Neither was the type to set aside much time for meals during work hours, so whether or not to eat onsite wasn't even a question.

As they began to eat the prepackaged lunch trays they'd each grabbed from the refrigerated countertop display, they made small talk about how the Squad Zero rookies were coming along.

By the end of the meal, Akira finally brought up one of the few concerns she had with Arima that she could speak of openly. "Sir, I'm grateful you've put me on this project, and the Quinx project as well, but lately I feel as though I've been doing mostly middle management stuff and sparring with children."

Arima looked through the nearby window into the main workout room, where the children in question were sitting in a corner chatting over their bento boxes. "Both are important. The point of the Quinx project is to develop a new type of investigator. Haise's destiny is…different. If all goes according to plan, he'll take my place one day, and even surpass me. A part of that is developing leadership skills. I want you to continue supervising him, but it's past time to step back and let him handle the Quinx on his own."

"I understand, sir. Perhaps it's a bit conceited of me, but I have certain skills and experience. I've been feeling underutilized here."

"I know. There isn't anyone else, beyond Hirako, who I'd trust to see these recruits trained up correctly. This is a project with…personal significance to me. I feel responsible for the growth and education of those coming out of the Garden, and I've reached a position where I can finally have some control over the matter."

Akira's heart rate took off—all that caffeine was a mistake and she should have just toughed it out—but she managed to maintain her composure. "Because that's your alma mater, too. Is it really that different from the camaraderie us Academy graduates feel for our classmates?"

There was a far-off look in his eye. Akira could tell he wasn't staring at anything in particular, except perhaps in his memories. "It is similar in some ways, but the extreme focus on combat training comes at the expense of keeping them very sheltered from any distractions outside of the Garden. They're handed over to us ready to fight to the death, but they're so unprepared for life beyond battle…or what it really means to strike a killing blow."

"So…you want me to be a team mom to them, as well. I don't understand why you keep giving me these assignments. I don't think I'm the first image that comes to anyone's mind when looking for someone maternal."

Arima smiled at her. "You aren't seeing what I see. A mother's job isn't to coddle a child into helplessness. It's about teaching them to stand on their own so they can leave you, ready to face the world. I don't want someone to fawn over their scrapes and bruises or let them indulge in childish sulking. They need to be ready for war as quickly as possible. You're truly the best person for that job."

A part of her preened at his assessment—that maybe she wasn't anyone's first idea of maternal, but she could fill that role better than anyone else in her own way.

Another part of her felt a deep sadness. What was Arima's relationship with his own mother like? If that's what he thought a mother's role was, it didn't sound like he came from a loving, supportive home…

"Thank you, sir. I'll try not to let my arrogance get the best of me."

He was silent for a long time, as he finished chewing his last bite of rice. "I'd appreciate it if you committed to staying attached. It depends on a lot of factors, but I think this project in particular will be important."

Akira nodded. What are you planning, White Reaper?

"On to the next point, how is Haise doing? Is he still with that waitress of his?"

She could no longer reveal that Haise had snuck off and procreated when they weren't looking, but she could at least say that they were still together. "Yes. Last I heard they were going strong."

Arima nodded. "Good."

"Sir?"

"Haise's biggest weakness has always been that he isn't willing to go all-out in a fight. He'd give up and accept death before digging deep and really fighting. We all know he has vast hidden reserves of untapped strength."

He didn't elucidate, but she picked up what he was hinting at: We all know he's at least a partial kakuja, and yet we've never seen Haise even begin to approach that level of power in battle…

Arima continued. "He tries hard at his job to please us because we've arranged things that way, but if he were pushed hard and only his life was on the line, he'd willingly accept death without complaint. Maybe now that he has something of his own to live for, to fight for…"

Akira remembered the few vicious spars she'd witnessed between Arima and Haise, soon after the latter was cleared to leave Cochlea—how the boy would take any hit, how Arima would appear to beat him within an inch of his life, and then with a few harsh words from Arima he would somehow stand up to continue fighting longer than anyone thought possible.

He's always been strong. Maybe even strong enough to truly be a match for Arima. He's weak in his heart, though, and that's more dangerous than any physical shortcoming. But if he thought Touka and their child were on the line…yeah. That would light a fire in him.

"Perceptive as always, sir."

"Thank you for the discussion, Mado. It was a delight, as per usual." Arima cleaned up the remains of his lunch and stood to leave.

"I'll see you around, sir." Akira watched him leave down the long hallway leading outside. She had the strangest sense that her superior had shown some of his cards to her, but they were playing a vastly different game than she first thought.

Akira was slated for a Krav Maga class being offered in the main office gym that afternoon, but she'd been a better, more well-rested person when she'd signed up. So, she bailed.

Instead, she headed to her office and opted to make sure all the case files coming from Squad Zero and the Quinx Squad were up to snuff—more middle management—then ran a quick search for a very particular record.

She noted the location in the records library she'd need to dig through and headed over there.

It was a shock to realize she wasn't alone—she turned down the passageway between two towers of dusty shelves and ran right into Haise.

She didn't even have to guess at what he was looking for. She knew this location by heart.

Arms crossed and trying to sound stern, she said, "Someone's hard at work. Looking up information on Kotaro Amon?"

"Akira! I—"

"You're in luck. He used to be my partner. He died during the Owl Extermination mission. Is there anything else?"

She hoped that an unfriendly demeanor would hurry things along, but again she underestimated the strength of Haise's earnest determination.

"I went out last night to investigate a tip. I think I ran into Rabbit. But…she was different from Aogiri's Black Rabbit. She seemed to know me, and she called me Eyepatch. Am I Eyepatch? Did I kill investigator Amon?!"

I can't exactly tell him that Amon survived right now, can I?

She suppressed a wince. "That's a name you should forget. Have you written a report yet?"

He shook his head, looking hurt.

Akira took a deep breath and tried to come up with a lie. For the first time in this whole fiasco, her instinct for subterfuge failed her.

So she just went with honesty. "I know what I'm about to say sounds crazy. I need you to trust me on this. Forget about the Rabbit, and forget about Eyepatch."

Haise knew she was keeping secrets from him. He had known for a long time. He stared at her, angry that she wouldn't speak plainly.

Akira had known for a long time, too, that he was aware of the wall that had been built between him and the truth. It was only looking at the fury and confusion on his face that she realized how deeply he was affected, and how much he had hidden his turmoil from everyone.

Beyond that, though, she knew that if anyone else in the CCG caught wind of his memories of life as Eyepatch returning, he would go from colleague to target. Kori Ui came to mind…he was just waiting for any excuse to exterminate Haise.

If she let him pursue his past any further, he could be signing his own death warrant. And that was before she factored in whatever rot was lurking in the administration.

"You don't understand what it's like, Akira. Not knowing who I was, worrying that if Touka ever finds out what I don't remember she'll leave me…"

She walked up to the poor boy and hugged him. The way she wished someone would hug her, in her darkest moments. "She would never leave you for that. Tell her your fears, if you don't believe me."

Maybe parenting is just a little bit about coddling…

She was struck by a sudden realization, talking to Arima and Haise on the same day. Strange how I never noticed…

Akira stepped back and held Haise at an arm's length.

"I talked to Arima earlier. I've just realized, you've never spoken to him about Touka, have you? Why?"

He looked down at his shoes. Almost to himself, he whispered, "I don't know…or maybe I kind of do…I don't know how to protect her if…" He broke off, stopped himself from continuing, and looked at Akira with an expression akin to a lost puppy.

Shit.

She remembered Itori, just the night before, saying, "You banked on me being bad at what I do best."

Had she underestimated Haise, too? He had never been stupid. And what's more, his first instinct was always to hide what he was going through. If he had been noticing Touka's not-quite-human qualities, and wondering if she was a ghoul, not a soul on earth would hear a peep out of him. Not even Touka.

She recalled, in a flash, a scene from the security cameras late last night: Touka letting him in the closed café, Haise staring at her, then embracing her and pressing his face to the spot where he'd just bitten Rabbit. Akira rewound and played the memory again from the top, this time with a more critical eye.

He knows she's Rabbit.

Another puzzle that had been rattling in the back of her head finally clicked into place: If Yonebayashi could tell that Touka was a ghoul based on the faintest scent carried by their mutual acquaintance, the baker, why couldn't Haise after all this time and proximity? The answer, of course, was that he could tell and he simply hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone.

Her behind-the-scenes machinations hinged on him lacking perception, on him lacking intuition, on him being oblivious and happy to remain ignorant. In retrospect, those were all traits that she knew could not apply to Haise if she stopped for two seconds and considered the situation with a bit of humility.

Hubris, indeed. She'd spent her life being the smartest person in the room. Only now, staring at Haise and knowing that they were teetering on the edge of disaster, did the folly of that attitude hit her.

That hubris wouldn't just affect her dealings with Haise, she realized.

She'd stumbled into a much deeper game than she'd ever played before, where everyone she was up against had more resources, more power, more knowledge. She was already neck-deep in secrets and conspiracies that she could barely fathom—the rules, the players, and the stakes had only been hinted at—and she needed get serious about becoming a real contender on that level if she was going to survive. If any of them were going to survive.

How do I answer? Warn him off that train of thought without revealing too much?

"I like Touka, Haise. She's good for you. Your feelings aren't trivial, but she's going to need you more and more in the coming months, and especially when the kid is born. So stop getting stuck in your own head and focus on being a good husband and father."

Haise looked at her blankly, then slowly nodded. "She's expecting me to walk her home tonight. I should go meet her."

"Haise? You're going to be alright. Get out of here, get some rest tonight." She smiled at him. "And remember what I said: I'm here for you."

He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself. Brought his hand to his chin in thought. "Yeah, I know. You're right. Thanks, Akira." He began to leave, but threw one last forlorn glance at her before he disappeared past the bookshelf.

Now he's underestimating me, thinking I wasn't keyed in enough to pick up anything he was hinting at.

Then, she reminded herself, he's smarter than that. I need to expect him to begin piecing things together sooner or later. What then?

She barely made it through the door with her eyes open. Being so fatigued, she immediately changed into PJs two hours early and tried to fall asleep, but as usual her racing thoughts got in the way.

She trudged to the kitchen where she grabbed a bottle of the heavy-duty stuff—some Nikka Days she'd avoided opening until this godawful week—and whipped up a quick hot toddy.

She sat on her couch to sip her nightcap and must have rested her eyes a little too long, because she blinked and was suddenly being carried to her bed.

"Amon," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm just so tired."

"I understand. I'll turn out the lights when I leave."

She grabbed at his arm as he deposited her in her bed. "I talked to Eyepatch today. He was digging through your case files. He feels very, very bad about killing you."

He laughed, but there was a sadness to it. "I suppose we all have things to feel bad about."

He pulled the blankets over her, and she fought the dark wave of sleep that the warmth and coziness brought on.

"Where do you sleep? You can sleep here. Don't go."

Eyes closed, all she could hear was his heavy sigh. "I shouldn't stay. But I'll be around, when you're in better shape for company. Just don't fix your balcony door."

"You should have a safe place to rest," she whispered, but he was already gone.

Next week: Akira drops an F bomb. There were no survivors.