I still dream about her sometimes.
"I guess I'll die here."
Mysterious, bright, and somehow fleeting.
Sensing that her death was imminent, she had looked at me and smiled.
Why was she smiling?
How could she possibly smile?
With the very person who had come to kill her standing right before her eyes.
"I am worried about you being left alone, though..."
Was the mention of being alone an intentional omission, meant to protect our child?
Or had she foreseen the lonely struggle that would follow?
In the end, I had to kill her without ever truly understanding her.
I still cannot forget her eyes—eyes that held not a single trace of resentment, even as her breath finally stopped.
***
He opened his eyes in the silence of the room.
An unpleasant memory had surfaced.
Perhaps it was because he had fallen asleep on the bare floor of a cold, empty space.
The chill, which seemed to seep into his very bones, had acted as a catalyst, dragging that day back to the surface.
Even with a body that rarely weakened, he decided that from now on, he should sleep with at least some basic warmth.
The place he was in now was not a ruin.
It looked as though the interior was only just being set up; on one side were chairs and tables still wrapped in plastic, along with various boxes of equipment.
He walked to the window and drew back the curtain.
It was still early dawn.
The world was washed in a pale violet hue.
The main road was empty, but once the sun rose, the usual crowd would begin to pass by.
And perhaps, driven by curiosity, some would notice the new shop and decide to stop in.
He thought he had picked a good location.
This area possessed a strange balance: it blended in just enough for both Ghouls and humans, yet remained inconspicuous.
"So it took fifteen years to finally settle this..."
It had been far too long.
But in the end, his efforts had borne fruit.
From now on, the existence known as Kuzen no longer existed. At least, not 'officially.'
He didn't know how long this peace would last, but for this moment, he was free.
At last, he would be able to see their faces.
He wanted to go meet them as soon as possible.
The friend with the vast age gap.
And the daughter he had left in that friend's care.
***
"I'm thinking of closing the shop."
"What?"
That was the shocking news I received the moment I arrived at work, just like any other day.
Unlike usual, a sign reading "Closed Today" hung on the door. Having heard nothing in advance, I stepped inside with a puzzled expression.
In a corner of the empty shop, I found the manager looking miserable, knocking back a drink.
And the first thing she said the moment she saw me was that.
Closing the shop? After running it without any real problems all this time, it was impossible not to be stunned.
"What happened? Did your back act up again?"
"It's not my back. The bastard who owns the building raised the rent, and we had a huge fight."
So that was why she was acting like the world had ended.
"But the shop's income isn't bad, is it? We should be able to handle a rent increase..."
"The rent isn't the problem."
"Then what is?"
"I sent that landlord to the hospital."
"What the hell did you do, you old woman?!"
The backstory was so beyond imagination that I instinctively dropped my polite tone.
What? Sent the landlord to the hospital?
The manager was big and strong for her age, sure, but I never thought she was capable of beating someone into a pulp. What on earth happened?
When I stared at her in shock, the manager raised her voice in indignation.
"That young punk spoke to me with such insolence!! I only grabbed him by the collar and threw him, and there just happened to be a window there! The real problem is the glass company for not designing the windows to be sturdier!!"
The original owner of the building had apparently been a long-time acquaintance of the manager.
However, as he aged, he handed the property over to his son. That son—who had been secretly drowning in gambling debt—tried to jack up the rent the moment he took over.
It seemed that yesterday, while I was off, the manager and the landlord had gotten into a violent altercation.
Sure, I could understand getting pissed if someone suddenly raised the rent, but...
"Listen, whether it was on purpose or an accident, if you drop someone from the second floor, you can't complain if it's treated as attempted murder! So what happened!?"
"What do you mean, what happened! Since the bastard's parents have known me for years, we barely managed to settle it! But I don't think I can keep doing business here. I'll have to move to another area and start fresh."
"What kind of nonsense is that..."
So what? I'm losing my job over something this ridiculous?
Perhaps she still had some conscience and couldn't bear to make me a jobless bum overnight, because the manager added,
"If you want to come with me, you can. I'll keep your pay the same."
"Where are you moving the shop to?"
"The 11th Ward. I have more acquaintances living there."
"That's way too far from my place! I'd spend the whole day just commuting!"
The 11th Ward was at the southernmost tip of Tokyo.
For someone living in the 7th Ward, which sat slightly left of center, the distance was absurd.
It looked like I'd have to find a new job.
I had no idea who would hire a man in his early thirties with no proper qualifications, but I'd have to try.
Ring—.
Just then, the bell on the shop door rang.
If someone entered despite the "Closed" sign, they were either unable to read or close enough to the manager not to care.
"What's this? Is the manager sick? I came hoping to get a free dinner for once."
The person who had entered was someone I knew very well.
"Hitokawa."
The man entering in the white coat of the CCG was my old friend.
Following behind him was his partner and assistant, Hoshino Akamiya.
And then...
"..."
A small bow.
Behind the waving Hoshino, a boy with a blunt expression noticed me and lowered his head in greeting.
*...Arima.*
I murmured the boy's name to myself.
It had been a little over a year since I learned he had joined Hitokawa's team.
At first, it had been awkward.
After all, we were two people who had fought in an underground passage until we were on the verge of killing each other.
We had reached a dramatic, tacit agreement to overlook the past, but he was still a dangerous variable.
However, that was only at the beginning. My opinion changed after seeing him join the team for drinks a few times.
He was still taciturn, expressionless, and impossible to read.
But something about him had definitely changed since our first meeting.
It was as if a machine that only followed programmed commands had finally begun to show a human side. He didn't seem as dangerous as before.
Of course, Eto still kept her guard up and hated him.
But Arima's attire was different today.
The boy who usually carved up Ghouls in a school uniform was now wearing the same white coat as Hitokawa and Hoshino.
"You changed clothes?"
Hitokawa answered for him.
"He graduated. He's an adult now and a full-fledged investigator. He's already built up so many achievements that he was promoted straight to Associate Special Class. He'll be taking on major assignments from now on."
"I've been overtaken by someone who just became an adult..."
Still stuck at First Class, Hoshino leaned her head against the doorway, her face drained of energy.
Having witnessed the meaning of overwhelming talent from the closest possible distance, the shock was clearly profound.
I offered a silent prayer for the Ghouls who would be Arima's next targets.
Since it was a major assignment, the targets were likely monsters who had killed many, but fighting that boy would be a nightmare in its own right.
Even I still had nightmares about fighting him.
I'd met plenty of vicious Ghouls who killed without hesitation, yet it was ironic that a young investigator was scarier than all of them.
"Arima is leaving our team and will be operating independently starting next week. It's standard practice for higher-ranked investigators to lead their own teams. We just stopped by for a farewell party, but seriously, what's going on? Why is the manager drinking herself into a stupor?"
"Well..."
I gave him a rough explanation of the situation.
Hitokawa looked genuinely disappointed that the shop was moving.
"Seriously...? There's nowhere else that can match this place when it comes to oyakodon with a mother's touch..."
"Ghk!"
SMACK!!
"Who the hell is your mother, you brat?!"
Mid-sentence, Hitokawa was struck in the forehead by a flying sake cup. The manager was clearly wasted.
I sighed and spoke to Hitokawa, who was rubbing his reddened forehead.
"Well, since it's come to this, you might as well eat something before you go. I'll make some snacks for your farewell party."
As I put on my apron, the manager, who had half-buried her face on the counter, grumbled in a slurred voice.
"Who said you could start doing business on your own?"
"You've been a regular for years. A little service like this is fine, right?"
"Damn it... do whatever you want..."
Having lost the will to argue, the manager kept her face buried and began to snore.
I asked Hoshino and Arima to move the manager to the back. While I started cooking, Hitokawa, now seated, spoke up.
"Come to think of it, where's Eto?"
"What do you think a third-year middle schooler does? She studies."
"Studying at school this late?"
"She's starting high school soon. Weren't we the same in middle school?"
"I was in the sports club, so I got out of self-study."
"Right, I forgot. You lucky bastard."
Sizzle—.
The sound of oil hitting the heated pan filled the air as our conversation continued.
"How are things at the CCG? Anything special?"
"No. Lately, it's just been a cycle of chasing suspects, surveillance, and overtime. It's been a while since there was any real combat."
"Sounds pretty peaceful."
"You think so? From an investigator's perspective, that's actually a bad sign."
"What do you mean?"
Sizzle, sizzle, sizzle.
I listened intently to Hitokawa over the sound of the stir-fry.
"This might not be great news for you since you're raising Eto, but there's a saying among investigators: 'Ghouls are like cockroaches.'"
"That's a terrible comparison. What does it mean?"
"It means that if you can't see them, it doesn't mean they've disappeared. It means they're multiplying in the shadows where you can't see them."
I see.
From the perspective of a hunter, it was a fitting analogy.
Though from a Ghoul's perspective, being compared to cockroaches would be infuriating.
"Usually, after a period where Ghouls go unnoticed... a massive number of them are suddenly discovered all at once. It's possible they're operating in secret even now."
Bored while waiting for the food, Hitokawa helped himself to a sake cup and a bottle from the cabinet.
After a sharp sip, he continued.
"Be careful. When Eto is around, you can tell them apart, but when she's not, someone you think is human could suddenly turn into a Ghoul and attack."
"Don't worry about that. My instincts are cowardly, so I'm sensitive to their gaze. Here, mushroom and vegetable stir-fry. It should go well with your drink."
"Oh!"
Hitokawa brightened as he took the plate.
Soon, Hoshino and Arima returned after moving the manager, and the four of us held a small, quiet farewell party.
***
"Aaah~ I'm stuffed."
After the party, Hitokawa, Hoshino, and Arima began their journey home.
Hitokawa, who had gotten carried away and polished off three bottles, was staggering slightly, while Hoshino scolded him for drinking too much.
Arima followed behind them with a steady, unwavering gait.
"Hey, Arima! If you do anything stupid in your new team, I won't let it slide! Don't try to handle everything alone—make some actual friends!"
"Understood."
"Do you actually understand? Ugh! And you still haven't fixed that deadpan attitude. Honestly, you..."
Hitokawa's nagging continued, and Arima listened in silence.
It was a scene that had repeated for over a year, but knowing it was the last time made Hoshino feel a tinge of sadness.
Suddenly, Hoshino shouted in alarm.
"Mr. Hitokawa! Look out!"
"Whoa!"
Distracted by his lecture to Arima, Hitokawa almost collided with a shadow stepping out from a side alley.
Though drunk, his trained reflexes were still sharp; he quickly twisted his body to avoid the collision.
He immediately straightened up and apologized to the stranger.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going."
"No. It's quite alright."
The tall man in a fedora spoke in a calm, gentle voice, showing no sign of surprise.
With a slight bow, the man slipped past the group and continued on his way.
Once he had passed, Hoshino spoke with a puzzled expression.
"He had a very unusual aura. Was he a middle-aged man? Or a grandfather? Which was it?"
"Huh? What's this, Hoshino? Do you have a thing for old men?"
"Why did it turn into that?!"
While Hoshino snapped at Hitokawa, Arima watched the retreating back of the man in the fedora.
"..."
What had he sensed in that man?
Behind his glasses, his eyes narrowed slightly, and the fingers of the hand holding the metal case twitched.
It was the case containing his Quinque.
The moment Arima was about to press the release switch—
"Hey, Arima!"
He stopped and turned toward the voice.
Ignoring the squawking assistant, Hitokawa called out to him.
"What are you doing? Let's go."
"..."
Arima looked back at the man.
In the brief moment he had looked away, the man had vanished.
There were no hiding spots or side alleys nearby, yet he had disappeared completely.
No sound. No presence.
The disappearance was so perfect that neither Hitokawa nor Hoshino had noticed anything unusual.
It was as if he had never existed at all.
*No point in chasing him.*
Arima turned away without hesitation.
He didn't know who the man was, but he left behind a strange, lingering feeling.
*More importantly, I don't have enough Quinques.*
Arima, who had once slaughtered hundreds of Ghouls with a single weapon, felt a genuine lack of preparation.
*I definitely need teammates.*
And so, he felt a newfound willingness to follow Hitokawa's advice.
The only problem was that by "teammates," he didn't mean comrades to fight alongside—he meant people to carry his spare Quinques.
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