"Annnnd.... That should do it!"

Hinata steps back to survey his work, head tilted. The door may have seen better days, but all in all, he can't it looks all that different from before he rammed his shoulder into it. A few splinters here and there, but nothing major, nothing too eye-catching. Rui shouldn't have much trouble with people asking her what happened so long as they don't look too closely.

Rui.

He winces, craning his neck to see over his shoulder. The apartment turned quiet quite a while ago, and Hinata can't recall exactly when it was that he ceased hearing her occasional sniffle, or the whispers she thought were too low for his ears. Guilt gnaws at his heart like something physical, a rabid animal let loose inside his rib cage. However illogical it seems, he can't help but think Rui's life took a nosedive the moment she met him.

It's not true - he wasn't in any way responsible for Ikehara Kaori's disappearance, and especially not her death. He knows it isn't true, and yet...

Stowing his tools away in the box he carried in from his own apartment, Hinata stands from his crouched position. He unties his jacket from around his waist and slips it on, frowning at the chill so evident in the air. Rui must be freezing if he's feeling it this badly.

"Rui-chan! I took care of the door. Anything else ya want me to do..."

He trails off as he enters the living room, his face going slack in surprise.

Rui's curled up atop the couch, hands balled up beneath her head, brow furrowed and mouth parted slightly. She's shaking, which he only realizes once he's knelt down beside her; worse still, he can't be sure her trembling's even the result of the onslaught of cold that's invaded the room.

No, he thinks, brushing aside a lock of damp hair, darkened to a grayish pink with sweat, and tucking it behind her ear, she's terrified.

Is she dreaming? Perhaps. There's tension in the set of her jaw once she closes her mouth, and he can almost make out the faint sound of her teeth grinding against one another. A muscle ticks in her temple, responding to the abuse of her jaw.

A nightmare, then.

He's not surprised - rather, he would have been shocked to see her sleeping soundly after everything that happened. To find her sleeping at all, though, he wouldn't have expected that. Some part of her doesn't trust him, however small, however ignored - that's what he's told himself since day one. Because it's only natural that she would hate him, fear him, wish death upon him and all his kind. Ghouls have done nothing but terrorize humans since they came into existence however many centuries ago, because that's all they can do. They crave human flesh; it's the only thing that sustains them. They can't help that, of course, any more than people can when it comes to needing their own food for survival.

But Hinata knows they've gone about it all wrong.

Ghouls and humans... they're not so different, really, aside from certain aspects of their anatomy. Hinata's no genius, but he knows the basics. Ghouls may have the upperhand when it comes to physical strength, but they're primal, in ways that humans find downright animalistic. And they're right to think that. Hinata's seen what hunger does to a ghoul firsthand, what instincts it preys on, how it shuts off all sense of rationality until the aching emptiness in one's stomach has been appeased.

He hates that part of himself more than anything, that instinctual drive to feed, to survive above all else.

He hates his helplessness, too, but he smothers that most of the time, focuses on something, anything else, because he can't be helpless, not all the time. He has to be strong, steel-like in his intent, or else... or else, everything he's ever fought for will be meaningless in the end.

Hinata doesn't hate being a ghoul. He was born into this world as one, and he's never known anything different. He's never tasted the sweet, rich flavors of human food, and for the most part, he doesn't care to. It's enough for him that he's alive, and that he's well-fed enough that he doesn't go off on a rampage. Sometimes, though... well, being human would have its upsides, he supposes. Not being hunted like a damn dog would be nice. The real appeal, though, would be--

Hinata shakes his head, slapping a hand to his burning cheek. God, is he an idiot. Thinking about that at a time like this - maybe he's as terrible as the rest of the world thinks he is.

"Hinata...kun...?"

"Rui-chan!" he breathes, sitting back on his heels as she stirs, blinking open bleary blue eyes to stare at him quizzically. "You shouldn't be up, ya know, it's real late, and ya said you haven't been sleepin' all that well, right?"

She doesn't say anything for a moment, though her mouth opens once or twice, but just as quickly closes, like she can't decide whether or not what she wants to say is worth sharing. Then she shakes her head as if to clear it and pushes herself up onto her elbow, slowly unfurling her legs from her fetal-like position.

"I... I slept enough," she murmurs, eyes downcast. "I just... they're not going to leave me alone if I'm not awake, doing something..."

Them? Hinata blinks, before understanding washes over his features, and he offers a small, consoling smile, reaching out to wrap his fingers tenderly around Rui's wrist. Her pulse thrums against his skin, loud and erratic.

"Go back to sleep, Rui-chan," he says gently. "Fujimori-san and Ikehara-san... they loved you, Rui-chan. They wouldn't want to haunt you."

She looks unconvinced, her eyebrows drawn into a disbelieving V and her mouth pressed into a thin, flat line.

"Hinata-kun... have you lost someone?"

Ah. He'd been waiting for a question like this. Doesn't make it any easier to answer, though.

"Oh, no, H-Hinata-kun you don't have to--"

"Yeah," he says, a touch too quickly, because he wants to get this out before his tongue twists itself into a useless knot, rendering him incapable of sound beyond pathetic whimpers. "My dad... when I was around fifteen. Some doves cut him down. And my friend, Daichi... but that was... another ghoul. A sorta dispute over territory, or somethin'. I never did figure that one out. And there were others, ghouls I wasn't all that close to. They just kinda... vanished on me."

Hinata looks up, catching Rui's wavering gaze, and he smiles, just a bit, to tell her that it's alright. He's made his peace with the fact that being a ghoul is synonymous with loss. It's still terrible and tragic when someone he knows dies, but at least he can brace himself now, lessen the blow even before it hits.

Rui doesn't have that luxury - and God, does he hope she never follows in his footsteps.

"So I know what you're going through, Rui-chan," he grins, swiping a thumb beneath her eye to catch a falling tear. "That's why I'm gonna be here for you, for as long you'll have me. Okay?"

"...Okay."

"Now, get some sleep, Rui-chan, for me? Oh, but, if ya want, I don't mind serving as your personally pillow for the night~?"

"H-Hinata-kun!"

"Haha, you're too quick to blush, Rui-chan! Does that mean you do want it?"

"What? I... No, I just... you're too..."

"You're stammering now, how cute!"

"I'm... I'm going to sleep..."

"Alone? How boring, Rui-chan..."

_____________________________________________________________

The worst part about tonight, Shin thinks, is that he won't be getting any overtime for it.

Making rounds has never been his favorite duty as an investigator, and for the most part, he's always aimed to weasel himself out of the patrol whenever it's been passed to him. Recently, he's been using Amon as his excuse, claiming he can't leave the kid behind (he's a troublemaker, that one, he'll tell his skeptical colleagues), and of course Amon can't come along, either, so his hands are tied. Really, he suspects the other investigators simply get tired of his jaded company and allow him to slip away without much fuss.

Now, though, he has no intention of handing over the reigns of this investigation to anyone else.

It's late. Or early. Whichever is more annoying.

Shin tips his head back, squinting through the haze of city lights to the expanse of black above him; it's gradually lightening in the distance, fading into violets and blues at the very edges of his vision. He's been out since yesterday evening, sometime after discovering the body of Fujimori Akane. He'd thought the kill had been fairly fresh, the blood not yet dry on the ground, and he'd been determined to do a sweep of the area in case there were any lingering traces of the ghoul.

That search had turned up empty, but somehow, Shin couldn't bring himself to stay in the office. He'd have Amon hovering over him, demanding answers; he'd have the higher-ups on his ass, wanting to know all the little details Shin's in no mood to give; he'd have the case files open on his desk, the faces of Ikehara Kaori and Fujimori Akane staring out at him blankly, accusations in their obligatory smiles.

Normally, Shin doesn't feel guilty for the ones he can't save. It's not a matter of him lacking compassion - he just doesn't know how to cope with such a crushing weight taking up residence in his chest. So he forces himself not to care, not to linger, not to think about those terrifying what ifs. It's easier that way, manageable at least.

It's also why so many of his co-workers avoid him.

Now that, he truly doesn't give a damn about.

Shin's kept to the back alleys all this time, partly because he doubts a blood-streaked ghoul would be stupid enough to wander around out in the open, partly because he doesn't want to stir up a frenzy with the public. They've come to recognize his silver briefcase as a warning that ghouls are in the area, and the last thing he needs is a full-blown panic overtaking the ward. If nothing else, it would alert the ghouls to his presence, and that means it'll take that much more effort to locate them.

Still. He can't say he's getting any results from skulking around in the shadows. Perhaps he should try a more direct approach, make them a bit skittish, catch them off guard...

He'd need more manpower for something like that, though, and what are the chances his foolhardy idea would be approved by his superiors? Slim to none, if he's lucky, and Shin's never been blessed with good fortune.

Pausing at the mouth of yet another alley, Shin glances around. His hands slips into the pocket of his coat, fingers ghosting over his phone's surface. Something... feels off. He's not one to rely on instincts the way other investigators seem to do, but even he can't deny that there's something wrong with the air here, a figurative stench that permeates the entire space, clogging up his nose and forcing him to narrow his eyes.

He's in the slums right now. Abandoned housings surround him, flanked by failed factories and foreclosed storefronts. It's dark and gray even without the night still falling over him. Shin doesn't make a habit of visiting this part of the ward for a variety of reasons, but it does seem a likely candidate for a murderous ghoul's hiding spot. So, even though it's the second-to-last place he wants to be right now, he doesn't see much of a choice.

Shin pads away from the shadowed alley, stepping out in the middle of the road, head cocked to listen out for the hum of an unlikely engine. He doubts many people run through here unless necessity demands it, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

"God, kill me now," Shin mutters under his breath, pulling his gaze away from the sight of a horde of rats descending on the carcass of feral cat.

Then again, perhaps he spoke too soon.

Shin snaps his head around at the sound of something moving among the heaps of garbage piled against an adjacent building. As he watches, a black bag, filled to bursting, dislodges itself from the pile and tumbles down to the ground, where it splits open and heaves its contents onto the already soiled streets. Shin disregards the additional offensive odor, unlatching his briefcase, brow pinched in anticipation.

The universe doesn't disappoint him for once.

With unprecedented speed, a form tears free of the trash pile, ripping bags and cardboard boxes to shreds in the process; Shin doubles back, hissing a curse as he frees a long staff from his case and swings it upward, just in time to block the downward swipe of a hardened kagune. The clash resonates up the length of his arms and he grits his teeth, digging in his heels, refusing the be pushed back by this ghoul's brute strength.

Labored breathing is all that he can hear, aside from the pounding of his heart, and he can't tell if it's him who's suddenly turned asthmatic, or the ghoul.

With a grunt, Shin throws his weight forward, knocking back the kagune and giving him a chance to size up his opponent.

Average height. Wiry, if not rather slim. Inky black hair that falls conveniently in front of their face, falls down to their shoulders. Pale skin, scarred skin. That in itself is strange. Shin can't recall ever encountering a scarred ghoul; he thought their quick healing prevented such blemishes. But more than, it's the eyes that catch and hold his flickering attention. Red, as expected, but Shin's never seen eyes like this before. Because behind the red, there are dark, vicious swirls of madness, a deep-rooted hatred he can't quite comprehend, and hunger, so great and powerful Shin suspects that that is this ghoul's only motivation, despite whatever feelings it might have towards the human race as a whole.

Its kagune - a koukaku, if he's not mistaken - wraps around its right arm in a dangerous spiral, the tip of which extends far beyond its hand, sharpened into a rather disconcerting point. Even against the crimson background, Shin can make out the remnants of drying blood, and he sees the same grisly smears around the ghoul's mouth, across its cheeks, down its neck. There isn't a part of this ghoul's body that isn't tainted.

"Skinner, I presume?" Shin growls, flipping his staff around and settling into a defensive stance.

The ghoul smiles - blood-stained teeth gleam in the early morning light.

Shin's stomach doesn't take too kindly to the fact that he can see bits and pieces of flesh lodged in between the ghoul's teeth, but he swallows back the bile in his throat, taking note of the mask it's wearing. It's nothing special, not at all like some of the elaborate masks he's seen on other ghouls, and really, he thinks it might just be a piece of cloth that this thing cut a pair of holes out of so that it would be able to see. How unoriginal.

"Whatever. Don't talk, talk, I don't give a shit. I'm going to kill you either way and probably give your kagune over to my over-enthusiastic co-worker to tinker with. Hope you're happy with the knowledge that you're going to live on a lab rat even after I've stabbed you through the heart."

That's one thing Shin is good at that he doesn't mind boasting about - bluffing. Confidence has always come easy to him, after all, even when it's all he can do not to fall to a knee, his spine racked with damning shivers, teeth clenched together to keep them from rattling in his mouth.

Fuck.

He knew he should have called into backup for this patrol. 

I actually adore Shin, even if he's an asshole to Rui and Amon at times. His type of character is my absolute favorite, even trumping the strong, silent type I usually fall for. Well, here's hoping you guys like him as much as I do, because you'll be getting a lot more of Shin in the next chapter!