Firefighters unplugged the hose and rolled it into a barrel. Paramedics pushed the last casualty on a gurney and into the rear of an ambulance. Police stayed in position. Some guarding the police line. The rest were directing and relieving the congestion.

"What?! You're stranded? Can't you send some motorcycles?" The radio hissed. "Hello? Hello?" Hayashi reached into the car through the rolled down window and hung the radio back on the dashboard.

"Do you get any signal?" His partner, Yoshida, who had been warming the shotgun since they arrived, stuck his phone out of the window and raised it high.

"Can you stop playing with your phone and help me out?"

"What do you want me to do? Examine the body?" His crossed arms cushioned his head.

Hayashi gritted his teeth, withholding himself from smacking Yoshida in the head. The only reason he didn't do it was that the situation had been under control.

"Come on! Urie has gone back to Headquarters. You don't have to try so hard now."

Yoshida had a point. Like most of their colleagues, Hayashi picked the job as a bureau peacekeeper because it had lower risk and decent pay. Years of paper-shuffling dulled his senses, making him blunder more often than not. He couldn't blame Urie for being harsh on him. Even he was routinely embarrassed by his own mistakes.

That didn't mean he had given up on becoming better.

Hayashi stared at the white cloth-covered body that was lying on the crosswalk. Until the lab technicians and M.E. showed, the corpse had to remain on the cold and wet asphalt.

Though the death was tragic, the toll would have been worse had the paths not cleared.

Hayashi peered at the eastbound street. Vehicles, debris, and all other obstructions on the road were stacked aside, leaving a clean and clear lane.

Whoever did it. That person must have had enormous strength and speed.

"Who do you think the hero was?"

"Hero? They call him that now?" Yoshida finally looked away from his phone. "If the witnesses' descriptions are correct, it's either a One-Eyed or a relative of Frankenstein."

Hayashi was more inclined to the former because he too had stumbled into the mysterious being.

Black robe. A hood covering the head. Over six feet. Shoulders sturdy and broad like a boulder. Those were some traits that were hard to be missed.

Had Hayashi stayed where he was instead of taking a step, the giant wouldn't have leapt out of his sight. However, he did catch a glimpse on the right face, when the giant turned his head to glance behind. The red glow on the eye was something Hayashi would not forget. That was the first time he had seen a ghoul up close, not with eyes that were infested with hatred but admiration.

He had heard of good ghouls. He just never believed it until he saw one.

Unbeknownst to the peacekeeper, the unnamed ghoul was standing on the ledge of an abandoned building, overseeing the busy junction. As the night resumed its peace, he too withdrew into the darkness.

Not everyone at the scene was there to help.

A man in a black overcoat had been keeping himself away from the crowd, staying on the high ground of a slope. Despite the distance, he had a clear view of the cordoned area. His vision, however, funneled onto the body covered with white cloth, and then the green cab next to the body.

The plate number matched what he was looking for.

The man raised the phone to his ear.

"Hey, hey. Where's the girl you have promised?"

If he had a choice, he wouldn't want to deal with those thugs.

"My men and I have been very eager to meet her."

"Change of plan. I'll contact you." He pressed the red button on his phone, which had a long and rigid antenna and the design of those made in the nineties. His thumb then pressed twice on zero. "This is Natori. We have a situation."

Shou watched the hand clamp harder around his ankle. He snapped his head up to look at her.

Whether she had opened her eyes, he couldn't tell. There wasn't any more movement coming from her. But through his infrared vision, he could see that her contour was getting distinguishable from the ice-cold wall.

His ears began to tingle.

"Shou!"

The distance between them warped. He vanished into thin air and reappeared cradling her in his arms.

They had company.

He took Midori, broke through the glass window, and leapt off from the tenth floor.

Shou supposed he could annihilate them, but their numbers were rather unpredictable. Worse, engaging in a fight would leave signatures that might expose himself and Midori—something he had been striving to avoid.

A pack of humanoid creatures set foot on where Shou left. Their throats crackled at what they had found.

One of them took the lead, towering its monstrous body above a limp form. It grabbed her face and tilted her chin up. As its large mouth split from ear to ear, the clicking continued to emit from its throat. A viscous string streaked down its jaw and hovered over what would be its meal after several weeks of starvation.

Time for a chew.

He dipped his arm into the sleeve of a grey jacket. Watching himself in the mirror, he adjusted the tie. His eyes then drifted to the wardrobe, in which a velvet case was sitting at the corner. A faint smile escaped him.

And an ear-splitting wail took everything away.

Amon dropped his head and sighed. Almost forgot he still had a baby to entertain. "Alright, alright!" He jogged to the crib and picked up the baby, whose cheeks were red and teary.

The baby gripped onto Amon's lapel and chest pocket. With his face buried into his father's chest, Yuya continued to bawl his eyes out. If he could talk, the baby could have been accusing Amon of negligence.

Tapping lightly on the baby's back, Amon hushed his son. Yuya's voice, which had turned coarse, wrenched Amon's heart. The baby was not only the youngest but also the only child who had Amon's twenty-four-seven attention. No surprise that the baby had become the apple of his eye.

Only until recently when Amon took the job in Tokyo, that he had to leave him behind, which might be the reason Yuya seemed to be hysterical at times. With the nine-month-old beginning to recognize people and his surroundings, it was natural to feel insecure, perceiving his father's soon departure.

"As the year ends, birth rate has reached its new record-low. While hospitals across the nation are keeping the empty beds in their neonatal wards, Aizawa Maternity Hospital has made an official statement to shut down its neonatal ward after facing zero birth for the third month…" The radio droned on.

Amon brought the baby downstairs and went to the kitchen to search for the baby formula. The weight alight from his arm right after he opened the cabinet.

Surprised, Amon turned to his left, where a teenager with messy hair stood. Tranquility resumed. In the boy's arms was Yuya, who was happily sucking his bottle of milk.

"Humans are going extinct! And what is the government doing? Passing an equal right bill for ghouls!"

"You should change."

Amon stared at the teenager, then looked down at his suit. Eyes widened at the tears and snot that smeared his jacket. "Ah!"

Hikari nimbly stepped aside, giving way to his clumsy guardian, as the latter rushed up the stairs.

Emily seemed to have observed the ruckus while standing at the door. "What happened to him?" The brunette approached Hikari.

Hikari turned around and headed to the door. "He might be proposing today." He did not bother to look at her as he walked past her.

Emily blinked at Hikari's back. Her eyes then widened. "What?!" She ran up to Hikari. "Propose? Koutarou? How did you know?"

Hikari sighed, regretted that he did not keep his mouth shut.

Amon, on the other hand, had changed. He brushed the navy blue fabric on his chest, then pulled up his sleeve and noted the time. In a hurry, he grabbed his trenchcoat from the stand, skidded along the hardwood floor, skipped some stairs, and landed onto the stepping stones.

"Papa!" "Koutarou!"

Amon was so close getting to the gate. Still, he swung around. Rain or sun, his children always came first.

Pink, yellow, purple, blue, and red. Tulips, lilies, carnations, daisies, irises, and even sunflowers. The young ones had gathered together, surrounding Amon in a colorful circle. It was the end of the year, yet it felt like spring.

"These are?"

"You will see Akira, right?" Shinji, the one with orange spiky hair covering his ridge, asked. "Everyone wants to give her a present."

"For Mama!" One of the children cried out. The rest of them leapt happily.

Amon beamed. The children were very thoughtful. He wondered where they found those flowers, which were moist with dews. Those definitely weren't something they could forage in the wilderness, at least not in the winter. "Where did you get these flowers?" The more Amon looked at those flowers, the more he felt like he had seen them before.

"We cut them out from the glasshouse!"

Amon gasped. Glasshouse? "Is it the same one that is located on the west corner of our garden?"

"That's right!"

Amon sighed and slapped a hand on his forehead. "Those are Tsukiyama's most precious flowers."

"Papa, you don't look happy." Akane, the six-year-old with a chubby face, frowned.

Amon crouched and pinched the girl's face lightly. "These flowers don't belong to us."

"They don't?"

Amon shook his head.

"Why do you take care of them if they're not ours?"

"The owner had been very kind to have donated this house for us to live in. I promised him to take good care of this place, including those flowers."

Akane lowered her head. The other children followed. "I'm sorry. The flowers look so beautiful, we thought..."

"I know." He cupped the girl's hands and gathered the flowers into his hands. He proceeded to collect the rest of the flowers from the other children. "You love Mama a lot and want to make her happy." He bundled the stems together, which was just nice to make a neat bouquet.

The children smiled in amaze.

"I'll make sure to give this to her and let her know how much you love her." No doubt. The flowers were fresh and gorgeous. "I will apologize to the owner."

"I'll apologize too!"

"Me too!" "Me too!"

The children nodded their heads.

"Papa…" Kizuku, the seven-year-old, adjusted his oversized glasses, before stepping up to Amon and grabbing his arm. "When will Mama come home?" His lips quivered. "I really miss her!" He cried.

The rest of the children joined their brother.

"Kids…" Amon couldn't finish his sentence, as the wailing overtook his voice. "Kids!" He stood up. "I'm going to bring Mama home!"

The children quieted down instantaneously.

"Really?" Kizuku sobbed. "She's... coming home... today?"

"Maybe not today." Amon crouched, laid the flowers on the ground, and took out a handkerchief from his pocket. "Mama might need some time to pack her things and settle her work." He wiped the tears away from Kizuku. Looking at the boy, he smiled. "But she will come home." Amon glanced at the children. The number didn't seem right. "Where's Chibi?"

"Papa!"

Amon twisted his back.

Under the chin of a soil stained face was a flat dome of leafy green. Wrapping the thick white trunk of the mini tree in her arms, Chibi smiled brightly at Amon as if she had brought home a big game.

"Chibi." Amon's brows twitched at the roots that were still shedding soil. "That's not a flower." It would not have been a big deal, unless that tree was a five-hundred-year-old heirloom to the Tsukiyama family. Even if he were to work for a hundred years, he could never get enough money to compensate.

"He's going to blow it." Hikari turned to look at Emily, who had been watching Amon and the children from afar. "Mark my word."

"You're worried, aren't you?" Emily smiled at him.

"Huh?"

"You wouldn't have paid attention to the jewelry brand printed on the bag he brought home from Tokyo or told him to change." Emily went up to him and grabbed Yuya's tiny hand. "You even timed Little Yuya's feeding today. Right?" She shaped her mouth on the last word to Yuya, who had chuckled in response.

"Are you an idiot? We need someone more reliable to run this place." Hikari looked to Amon. "I'm so sick of picking up his mess." The reason was sound and irrefutable.

"Yeah right." Emily turned away from him. "I'll help make a bouquet!" She ran out of the house and joined the children at the porch.

In the far north, where the blizzard ruled, two men hid themselves in the white forest. One of them was looking through the binoculars, scanning the plain.

"Hey, Naki!" Ayato lowered the binoculars. "You sure this is the place?" He turned his back.

The blond pulled out a tablet from his white parka. The screen had a red dot bleeping. "The signal is still there."

"I can't find an entrance."

"Yeah, it's a secret base for a reason, right?"

"Yet that place is sending you an RC-wave." Ayato raised the binoculars and looked around. White, white, and more white. Even when he pinched his eyes shut, he still saw white. "Screw it!" He threw away the binoculars and stood up.

"Where're you going?"

"Recon. We've been sitting here all day and got nothing!" Ayato leapt off. He was going to wrap it up today and get back to Tokyo no matter what.

"It's been a long time." With the bouquet in his hands and close to his abdomen, he stood before the headstone of his mentor, eyes staring at the epitaph. "Had planned to see you sooner. I guess I was too afraid to face you."

He let out a laugh. "I kept thinking… What's your thought on the subordinate you once were proud of becoming a ghoul? Angry? Disappointed? Maybe both?" He waited, as if he would get an answer.

"Things have changed, Mado-san, but the world hasn't. The ghoul's existence, born or made, it's still wrong." Amon narrowed his eyes.

"But I won't lie by telling you that I don't appreciate having a second chance." He looked up to the grey sky. "Because of this body, I can be with her." He lowered his head, looking at the headstone again.

He took a breath. "I love her, Mado-san. I want to marry her."

A flurry raked across the cemetery, so strong that Amon had to shut his eyes. He squinted, shielding his eyes from the wind with an arm raised. "Mado-san!"

The wind just wouldn't stop. Even the bouquet in his hands was blown away.

"She's your only daughter! The only family you've left!" He struggled to steady himself. "I know that you're worried!"

It roared at his ears.

"I can't… I can't promise that she won't feel sad again!" He grasped his tie and crumpled it. "But... I can promise… that she'll never be alone!" He dropped his knees onto the ground. "I'll be with her! Always!" Both hands laid before his knees with the fingertips angled. "This is my vow to you! Please… please grant us your blessing!" He bent his torso forward, sticking his face as close to the ground as possible.

The howling stopped, as abrupt as it came.

He kept his head low, anticipating an ambush. For a full minute he stayed there, but the wind never returned.

Amon sat up. "Mado-san…" He blinked at the headstone, then looked left and right.

The tranquility gave him a chill.

He snapped into attention. Brows pinched together, and he faced Mado's grave again. "This may mean nothing, but I'm taking it as a 'yes'!" He bowed. "Thank you, Mado-san!"

He let out a breath of relief, as he thought he had overcome the biggest challenge of his life.

Boy, was he naive...

Amon sat on the long bench, staring at the flowers in his hands.

He was able to salvage whatever that was left. Most of the petals were gone. Some of the stems snapped. Even the fancy paper that wrapped the bouquet was covered in wrinkles.

No woman would nod her head on those flowers.

He was thinking about buying a new one. He just couldn't bring his heart to throw them away.

How could he? Those flowers were handpicked by the children out of love for Akira. How was he going to tell the children?

He sighed and looked up. His eyes found some curious and questioning stare from the onlookers, who quickly turned their eyes away.

Amon looked down and exhaled. The condensed air drew a veil over the ravaged flowers and vanished.

His little angels or the love of his life. He had to make a choice.

The lampposts lit up.

Amon looked up, mesmerized by the orange glow hanging low in the red sky.

Which reminded him…

Amon took out his phone and looked at the time. It was almost five, but his date hadn't shown.

It wasn't like her to be late. Even then, she would have called. There was only one thing that could catch her and make her forget everything.

Her job.

Amon pressed on the speed dial. He waited a full minute before reaching her voicemail. "Hey, Akira. It's me. Just wondering if you're coming. Call me, okay?" He hung up, sat there for another hour.

She never came. Never returned his call.

He took the bouquet to the nearest trash can and discarded it. When he went back to Shizuoka, he would apologize to the children and tell them the truth.

That was the reality. He couldn't say he wasn't disappointed, but that wasn't the end.

There was always another chance, if he ever met her, that was.

Amon stopped and turned, finding himself standing before a convenience store.

He wondered if she had eaten well.

With such a demanding job, she hadn't even had adequate sleep, let alone a proper meal. He still remembered those dark circles on her eyes the last time he saw her. When he met her again, he ought to persuade her to quit her job, before it took a toll on her health.

That thought led him to her apartment.

Amon stared at the door. The four plastic bags full of frozen food began to numb his hands. Now that he thought about it, he shouldn't have bought those salmon sticks to bribe the cat.

Anyway…

Amon put the food down and tucked a hand into his pocket for the key—a spare given by Akira after that encounter with her neighbor.

He inserted the key and turned, barely made a twenty degree counterclockwise, but couldn't go further.

Because it wasn't locked.

Amon slowly pressed down the handle and pushed the door open.

Something rushed out of the door and jolted him.

"Maris Stella?"

The feline circled Amon, mewing. That was the first time that the cat ever came out to greet him. Weird.

Amon opened the door again, noticing the light was on.

Maris Stella already trotted back into the apartment and went straight into the room.

"Akira, are you home?" He blocked the door with a foot to prevent it from shutting as he gathered the bags into his hands. "Akira?" He let the door close behind him and slipped off his shoes.

"Akira?" He knocked on the bathroom. "Are you in there?"

Meow.

"Oh, hey there." It was strange to have Maris Stella rubbing her back against his ankle. That cat had always been indifferent to him. Perhaps he smelled like salmon.

Meow.

"Are you hungry?" Amon crouched down, trying to touch the cat, but Maris Stella trotted back into the room. He scratched his head, giving up trying to understand that cat.

His eyes followed the hallway that led straight to the bedroom, noticing the blanket on the bed had been peeled.

Maybe Akira was home.

He left everything on the floor, on his way to the bedroom. Something black was lying on the floor, on the opposite side of the room, next to the bed, and behind the wall. It was barely sticking out into his view. The shape became distinctive when he reached the door.

Amon widened his eyes. His mind went blank.

A pair of feet, in black stockings tracing all the way up the legs. Face tilted to her left, facing the cupboard. A blonde with a braided bun was lying on the floor, still in her formal black suit.

Meow.

Her cat was staying beside her, pacing back and forth.

"Akira!" He dropped next to her and turned her into his arms. "Akira! Wake up!" He had never seen a face as pale as a piece of paper.

Not from someone alive.

He pulled out his hand that was cushioning her head. His eyes quivered at his open palm.

It was drenched in blood.

"Hands up where I can see them!"

Amon slowly turned his head to the door, right when the pistol aimed at his head.

"Yoshida, no!"

Bang.

Birthday banner stretched from one corner to the other. A colorful cone strapped on everyone's head. Laughter and jubilance imbued the air.

A crowd encircled a crib. All eyes mellowed at a tiny little being.

"Oh, he looks just like the King." Nico pouted his red lips and winked at the baby.

"Don't you dare kiss the baby, Nico!" Nishio bared his teeth. "You'll pass him germs!"

"How rude…" Nico rubbed the crook of his neck, tilting his head. "You know, I have a strict beauty regime. Mouth hygiene included. Can't you smell my mint breath?" He stuck his face up to Nishio, with his mouth open.

"Get that face away from me!"

The door opened and tinkled the bell. A white-haired girl came in, looking around.

"Hey, princess!" The Gourmet crouched before the girl, who peered over his shoulder. "What are you looking for?"

"Tsukiyama-san, have you seen Ayato?"

"No, I suppose he's with Hinami-chan."

The girl took off, running to the kitchen, where her parents were.

"Mama, Ayato isn't here yet?"

"I don't know, sweetie." Touka sliced the sandwich. "Have you looked for him outside?"

"Yes, but I couldn't find him."

"I'm sure he'll be here. Why don't you go play with your friends?"

"But I don't want to." She pouted her lips and ran to her father.

Kaneki, with his arms stretched over the edge of the counter, had glued his eyes to the kettle on the stove.

"What are you doing?"

"Not yet…"

Ichika's cheeks bloated. She ran to her mother. "Mama, Papa is acting weird!" She pointed at her father, who was still staring at the pot.

Touka glanced over her shoulder and looked back at Ichika. "You know what? Why don't you help Mama take a look at your brother? Make sure he doesn't get crushed from all the cuddling."

"Mmm!" Ichika made a sharp nod and ran away.

Meanwhile, Kaneki's face twitched at the slight rattling from the kettle. "Not yet…" the rhythm became frequent and louder. "Almost…" and a thin spiral of vapor escaped from the kettle's mouth.

"Now!"

Kaneki snatched the kettle and poured the hot water around the filter paper. After the filter paper gradually turned transparent and fully soaked, he set the kettle aside, turned the dial on the stove to low, and poured the water out from the glass holder.

He grabbed some coffee beans and crushed them until they were at the right size. The beans then nestled in the wet and still hot filter.

Kaneki grabbed the kettle again. He gently poured the hot stream onto the beans, making a gradual spiral.

He stopped as soon as the beans became moist, pressed the timer, and watched the countdown. Right when it beeped, he took the kettle and poured the hot water onto the coffee beans again. His motion followed a precise circular trajectory, as the sweet aroma with the power of waking up a sloth filled the air.

"Perfect!" Kaneki watched the extracted essence dripping onto the base of the glassware. His grin was victorious.

"Do you have to be so worked up?" Touka seemed to have watched Kaneki for some time.

"Akira is very particular about her coffee." He still carried that smug on his face.

In fact, that was the very first recognition he had from her. His skill in making good coffee.

Touka watched her husband change into Koma's persona. "Really?" She raised her brow. Her eyes wandered to the pot of stew, which started to overflow. "What about her curry?"

"Shoot!" Kaneki scrambled to the boiling pot. "Ouch!" He hissed and pinched his earlobes.

Touka blew through her nose. "Seriously, why do you have to—"

"Kaneki! You've got a call!" It sounded like Kaya.

"Right away!" Kaneki shut the stove and slipped out happily, not knowing that his wife had clenched her fists.

He picked up the handset. "Hello? Oh, Amon!" His voice was so loud that it turned everyone's eyes to him. "Are you having trouble finding the place?" He went silent for a while.

The curl on his lips flattened out.

"Thanks for letting me know." His voice turned grim. "Keep me posted." He hung the handset back to the cradle and plummeted onto the floor.

"Papa!"

"Kaneki!" Touka just came out and rushed to him at once.

Gasping and shaking, Kaneki drew his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his shins and tried to hold himself still.

"Kaneki!" Touka shook him, who had buried his head into his knees. "Kaneki! What happened?!"

"Kaneki!"

"Mom?"

He was at his old home, watching the back of his mother. His height was just right to have his eyes leveled at her upper body, which had crunched over the low table.

"Mom?" He hesitated whether he should go to his mother and her work area. She hardly left that table, not even for a break.

White flowers in boxes surrounded her. Some of her work in progress spread across the table. The rest spilled onto the tatami, right beside where she was kneeling.

"Mom?" He shouted a bit louder and cringed. He didn't want to stir his mother. The consequence would be grave.

Yet, he found himself standing in the center of the room, just a few steps away from her. He didn't understand what he was doing. Even with tiptoeing, he could have stepped onto those paper flowers and damaged them.

But those red flowers on the table…

Kaneki dropped to his bottom and panted. He was staring at his mother's arm that had slipped down to her side. Everything else faded away.

The next thing he knew was that he had put on his black suit, kneeling next to his mother, who had a white handkerchief covering her face.

In his mind were those flowers still bleeding.

With his mother's blood.