Author's Note: Started this in the wake of TG ending with no word on the sequel, thankfully we're getting TG:re now, but I needed something to soothe my aching soul in the meantime. So highly likely to end up being AU depending on what happens in TG:re. This takes place during and after the ending of the first TG series (manga) and will contain spoilers up until that point. The spoilers are relatively vague to be honest, but they are there. I hope you enjoy!

no one thinks they are to blame

why can't we see

that when we bleed we bleed the same

chapter one

Dispatching investigators has become something of a morbid hobby—a source of entertainment for him. If that shitty older sister of his would happen to realize what he is doing, she might claim that he is trying to exact revenge. But the fact is that he simply hates investigators more than he hates humans, and since all of the investigators are also humans, it seems a natural consequence that they should die.

"The rabbit went this way!"

Voices are echoing through the streets. In the darkness with only the light of the crescent moon as his witness, he leans his back against the side of an abandoned building. Each breath is raspy and short as he presses his hand against the gaping wound on his abdomen. Behind that black rabbit's mask, he is grimacing as he hobbles further into the darkness.

The investigators always travel in pairs, and he has reasoned that taking out two of them simultaneously is no great challenge. Certainly more skilled teams have been sent out after him lately. They are amping up their force to try to exterminate the nuisance crawling around the 7th ward.

It was his miscalculation thinking they wouldn't send three pairs. Such an excessive force when they are being pressured elsewhere was unexpected. In their last meeting, Tatara had made a point of noting that they—Aogiri, that is—were turning their sights toward the 20th ward.

For whatever reason, the CCG have decided to make a concerted effort to rid themselves of the "black rabbit." He doesn't mind the challenge, except that it has been an excruciating drain on his endurance. His ukaku doesn't allot him much room for drawn out fights. It is all about seizing the weakness in his opponents to kill them quickly and efficiently.

Regardless of his inner lament, the wound inflicted is only severe enough for him to concede to temporarily backing out of the battle. Once he recovers, he will be better prepared to deal with his newest prey.

At least that's how he egotistically reasons things in his head. The fact is that his sight has started to grow bleary. He is fortunate for his natural healing ability but it is struggling to compensate for the large blow that he has been dealt. Blood is gushing out between his fingers as he holds his hand to the wound, trying to stanch the bleeding. There is a rhythmic drip-drop as he takes one step after the other, leaving a trail in his wake—one the investigators will inevitably discover and follow.

His boots are scraping against the concrete as he starts limping down an adjacent side street. The neighborhood is quiet. He languidly scans the area, looking for anywhere he can take refuge but he is coming up empty.

Something wet splashes against his cheek suddenly. One drop and then another. Perhaps he has some luck after all. It is starting to rain, and the rain will do him a favor in washing away the trail that has been left behind.

"There's blood here! He must be nearby!"

Stupid trash...

If he could just... eat a little bit... he might find the strength to—

"Rabbit...?"

The sound of someone's voice startles him and he suddenly stops. Peering through the eye holes in his mask, he feels his excitement peak as he spots the silhouette of a human. It must be her house that she's standing in front of. A young woman...? It seems like she's wearing a nightgown. Maybe the commotion woke her, but he's not fussed about the details.

All Ayato sees is a potential meal.

His fingers crack as he curls them into a tight fist. Indeed, if he were to run into the investigators now he would be in trouble, but dealing with a civilian is another matter. Humans are so weak and fragile. They break so easily when you barely touch them.

One tentative step and then another, and he feels almost euphoric as he inches closer to her. The girl shows no sign of retreat. Perhaps this is some indication of how limitless his luck must be.

"Are you injured...?" There is a hint of concern in her voice, but he can't tell how sincere the question might be. It's impossible to make out her features in this darkness. Yet Ayato knows well just how fickle the emotions of a human can be. The moment she realizes he's a ghoul, she'll be screeching and crying for help.

"This way!" The voices of the investigators echo in the distance, but they have grown decidedly closer than the were before. Too close—he only has a minute, if that, to seize his prey and either escape or confront them head-on.

Yet just as he is thinking that, the girl darts toward him—her bare feet slapping against the ground as she pads closer. "Hurry," she whispers urgently, seizing him by the arm. Suddenly he is forcefully dragged along behind her as she pulls him toward the front door of the squatty, dilapidated building that they're standing in front of.

Regardless of whatever misunderstanding this human must be making to want to try to shelter him, Ayato makes no outward show of rejecting her hospitality. He ducks into the building behind her. It's even darker inside. In fact it's difficult to see anything since it's black as pitch, but his eyes adjust far more readily than a human's. In fact, because his kakugan is activated, there is an eerie red glow emanating from the eye holes of the rabbit mask that he is wearing.

Suddenly a light flips on from a flashlight, which suddenly shines toward his face. He's forced to turn his head away with a pained hiss, and just as quickly he feels icy cold fingers brush against his jaw as the mask is lifted away. His movements are so sluggish because of his injury that it's all he can do to take a stumbling step back to put some distance between himself and the girl, readying to lunge at her so he can silence her before she can vocally express what she has surely realized by now.

Yet when the flashlight pans away and he's able to squint over toward her, he realizes that those doe-like eyes are just staring at him with a hint of fascination rather than repulsion. In fact, she rather quickly seems to digest the reality of what exactly she just saved.

Ayato has no intention of letting this opportunity slip by, however. If she doesn't want to scream for help when she has the chance, that's her prerogative. He's not about to become some kind of human sympathizer and spare her.

He lurches forward with what strength he has, pinning this flimsy, breakable human body beneath him. The fact that she doesn't mount any resistance pleases him—all the easier to make this meal swift and clean. His lips peel back as he leans down toward her neck in an almost animalistic instinct to go for her jugular first.

"Are you going to eat me?"

That question gives him pause when it should not. It doesn't matter what a human says. Humans are trash—they should just die. Why is he listening?

"You should turn off the flashlight first if you're going to. It's shining out the window. Those people that were chasing you might notice."

Slowly he straightens himself upright, lifting himself away from the girl's neck. Ayato stares quizzically down at his prey. She gazes back vacantly, as though she is completely numb to her impending death. Eventually he cranes his neck, looking for the flashlight that she referred to. He stretches his hand toward it. His palm is slick with his own blood, and it proves almost too slippery to wield the object. Eventually he manages to turn the beam toward her face.

She squints under the light, but now he can finally see her properly. A young woman, probably a little older than his sister. Her skin is pale and she has freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her pointed nose. Her hair—a ruddy brown—is splayed out against the floor beneath her, cut short so that it most likely reaches just past her chin normally. This woman is the very vision of plain and ordinary. It's almost all the more boring that she isn't the least bit attractive.

Growing weary of the wait for his meal, he flips the switch off and tosses the flashlight to the side. It hits the floor with an audible thunk, and now that the area is bathed in darkness again, he is free to enjoy his meal without interruption.

"If possible... could you not kill me?"

Of course she would plead for her life. He feels mildly amused that she's ignorant enough to assume that anyone would listen to her plea, least of all a ghoul. "What if I say no?" There is no clear benefit to pursuing this conversation but somehow, he doesn't feel particularly rushed. The wound on his side is gradually closing up, and the rain should be erasing his trail by now. Being inside of this house, he should be safe.

"That would be a bit of a problem for me... could we come to a compromise?"

A compromise? With a human girl? His whole body vibrates with silent laughter as he stares down at her. What position does she think she is in to make such a proposal? He doesn't have to listen to anything she says. He can just eat her.

"You can take my arm but leave the rest."

Despite being mildly amused at this conversation, Ayato decides it's time to cut it short. Humans are garbage. So he reaches toward her and clamps his blood-covered hand over her neck. His fingers dig into her skin and he can hear the sound of her desperately trying to draw a breath. If he presses just a little harder he can completely crush her windpipe and—

"Aki-nee?"

The sound of a child's voice cuts through the darkness, and it startles Ayato—especially because it's accompanied by the sudden flip of a switch. Bright light floods the room and he's momentarily blinded by it.

There is a lapse of silence that precedes the the flurry of footsteps that race toward him. Just as he is adjusting to the newfound brightness, he feels something smack against the side of his head. Despite the force behind it, whatever the weapon is—it's too soft to be anything more than a nuisance.

"Hotaru, stop!" the woman pinned below him gasps out desperately the moment he eases the pressure on her neck.

Through squinted eyes, he peers over at his "assailant." It's a young girl, perhaps six or seven? He freezes when he realizes that those are two kakugan staring him down. His nostrils flare instinctively and he picks up the mixed scents. The woman beneath him is definitely human, but that girl—

Icy cold fingers grip his wrist, and he realizes that the woman he has pinned is trying desperately to pry his hand away from her neck. Perspiration beads on her forehead, but no matter how much strength she tries to summon, humans are inherently inferior to ghouls. All he has to do is apply the slightest bit of force and she'll shatter.

Something smacks him square in the face. He only realizes what it is once the other girl—Hotaru—takes a few defensive steps back the moment he reaches out to try to grab for her. She is holding a stuffed rabbit firmly in her tiny little fingers, brandishing it as though it's some kind of deadly weapon that she intends to assault him with again.

His head tilts in confusion. What is a ghoul doing inside of a human's house? And trying to protect said human? It's almost enough to make him nauseous.

"D-don't hurt Akira-nee or... I-I'll—"

"Let me up," a raspy voice commands from below him.

Ayato hesitates. His mind is in a haze. How is he supposed to react in this situation? It should have just been a lone human. If he had killed her just a few seconds sooner, he wouldn't be witness to such an odd scene.

A hand pushes against his chest, coaxing him to move away. He relents, if only because his curiosity supersedes any hostility that he feels. The two people in this room pose no danger to him, even if the smaller one is seething with murderous intent.

As soon as she is free, the woman called Akira dashes for the little girl who has tears pouring down her cheeks. The two of them meet each other in an embrace. Together they make for an odd pair. The child is beautiful despite her activated kakugan. Her hair is a dusty auburn and slightly curled as it hangs down to her shoulders. The sight of her with her bunny tucked under her arm as she nuzzles against the person she calls her sister evokes the image of a porcelain doll.

Akira gently pulls the child into her bosom, stroking her head as though to provide some comfort. "It's alright," she coos in a quiet voice. "There's no need to cry or be upset."

"But... he was going to—"

"Everything is okay now."

That is certainly not the case in Ayato's mind. He has no intention of letting the two of them go; this is merely to satiate his own curiosity. It is not every day you find a ghoul child being harbored in the house of a human. The sight is utterly foreign to him. Love is conditional, what benefit could this human possibly have for taking care of a ghoul? His eyes narrow.

"Let's get you back to bed, okay?" As she says that, Akira's gaze slowly turns toward him. For the moment that she fixes him with the most threatening glare she can manage, she doesn't seem human. Her gaze is that of a mother protecting its young, but he has to stifle a laugh at the absurd comparison. There is no way a human can legitimately care for a ghoul. It's those peace-loving idiots in the 20th ward that would buy into that crap.

While he is making these musings in his head, the pair suddenly start down the hallway together. Akira says nothing to him as she leaves, and he wonders in the back of his head if her intention isn't to escape. One tentative step and then another, and he's started down the hallway a solid ten paces after her.

By the time he reaches the end of the hall, she's ducking out of a room and softly closing the door behind her. There appears to be no outward indication as to whether or not she heard him coming, but she does turn her gaze toward him at last.

"Could you settle for that compromise I mentioned earlier?" There is a self-deprecating smile on her face as she says that, but just as quickly she averts her gaze to the floor. "That's probably impossible. You're the one who has been killing those CCG investigators in this area, right?"

He tires quickly of her questions, moderately annoyed that she would presume to make queries of him. So instead he ignores her questions and poses his own. "What is a human doing keeping a ghoul child?" The words weigh on his tongue with malice as he spits them out.

"You seem obsessed with labels like 'ghoul' and 'human,' but I don't see things that way," she argues back in an indignant tone. "Hotaru is... the only family she had is gone. She has no one now, except me. Her mother entrusted her to me."

Ayato cocks his head at the explanation. "You feed her?" His voice hitches in disbelief.

Realizing that this must be part of the source of his confusion, she gives a helpful nod. "I'm in training to be a nurse, so... I have certain tools at my disposal—at my University—to get her food without having to kill anybody. She doesn't need to eat very much to sustain herself."

There are three things in particular that Kirishima Ayato despises. The foremost of which is investigators, followed by humans. The last is weakness, in any form, whether it is in a ghoul or in a human. Yet this fragile creature before him has positioned herself directly in front of the door, behind which a ghoul child is sleeping soundly.

Whatever is going on here is none of his concern. It does not even occur to him to display any gratitude at being "saved," because he is quite confident in his own survival skills. Even if Akira hadn't happened upon him and dragged him inside her house, he would have found some way to make it through.

There is something about this whole situation that grates him, however. He is not a particularly sadistic person, but... "Alright. I won't kill you. I'll kill that child instead." He points toward the door behind her. "Unless you want to saw off your left arm and give it to me." Honestly he has no real intention of killing the child; if the woman doesn't accept his conditions and choses to sacrifice the child instead, he has every intention of liberating her head from her body.

The look of shock that he expects registers on her face immediately, her jaw drawing slightly agape as she digests his demand. For a moment, awestruck, she gazes down at the arm he has given his ultimatum for. Her right hand clenches tightly against her left forearm. Then, seeming to come to a decision, she lifts her gaze back to him. "Okay," she says in a breathless voice. "If you'll spare Hotaru and me, then I'll give you my arm."