Notes: Update schedule and other stuff will be on tumblr because FFnet can be crap sometimes, or most of the time. There aren't any new Enforcers because it works better for me this way. Enjoy.

start from zero

||1. zero

Hey, it's scary, isn't it? Letting go of everything,
But we have to move on, and start from zero.

It was raining that night as well. He remembered the rain because rain brought with it a sense of gloom, a feeling of dread. Not because of the case, no. It came from the knowledge that a new Inspector would be reporting, the dread of wondering oh no who will I lose someday – and so his words were every bit as harsh as he intended.

Fast forward five months, and he hadn't lost her yet. He thought he could understand a little of what Kougami must have felt, the inevitability of their similar fates diminishing the importance of whatever small regret they had at leaving someone behind.

Inspector Tsunemori held no grudge against him, something he wasn't magnanimous to do in his time. In fact, she was more than forgiving – she treated him no different from before.

The other day, he'd visited the prosthetist to report on his mechanical arm and have it adjusted.

After a week of practice, he was beginning to get used to it. Precise control was still out of his reach, but he could carry out all of his daily activities with minimal attention. He expected that with time, he'd be able to thread the damn needle without dropping either the needle or thread and then Karanomori would lose interest in asking him to do it every other hour.

The prothetist had asked him a few questions, told him to do a few simple exercises, and then ignored him while he typed haphazardly on his tablet. Ginoza could tell that it was a report of some sort, probably the last one that needed to be filed for him. He had no interest in interpreting the medical terms as long as everything was going as it should.

Halfway through, he remembered and brought up that sometimes, he felt pain in the arm that the prosthetic replaced. It was ridiculous, because plastic and metal couldn't possibly feel pain. Was it normal?

"Perfectly," he answered absent-mindedly. "You were feeling pain even before, weren't you, Ginoza-san? In the missing arm? It should go away eventually when your brain readjusts to having an arm back."

That was true. He'd lost count of how many times he woke up in the isolation facility under the haze of drugs, screaming, reaching for the mutilated arm he saw in his dreams, reaching for his dying father, realizing that neither were there. And then the pain would slowly worm its way into his consciousness and take over from there, there was no way to make it go away, no way to make it better when it resided in flesh that was air, bone that was dust. Every time this happened he'd inevitably end up huddling in a corner, gritting his teeth while he clutched at his stump of a shoulder. Every time the warning announcements would start and the drones would come with the facility doctors in tow, telling him the doubtlessly clouded color of his Hue and that he should calm down – as though he could – while gas flooded the room and the cycle started again.

When he left the facility, he went off the drugs. They couldn't numb the pain that only existed in his head, and added nightmares on top of that.

"Although, if it bothers you, I could get the physician to prescribe some painkillers," the prosthetist offered.

Ginoza shook his head. He'd had enough of those for the rest of his life.

The interior of the paddy wagon was pitch black and silent; the screen that usually played the news was dark today. In the accompanying silence, the muted patter of raindrops on the roof could be heard, an inconsistent music that managed consistency through sheer frequency.

Kunizuka radiated boredom from her seat opposite him. Boredom hidden under a veneer of professionalism. He'd once wondered if she was always like that, whether in front of her superiors or not, but never cared enough to have that answered. Even now, he still couldn't be sure if this was her default or if she was putting up this front on account of the fact that he used to be her boss.

They were the only two being transported today. Neither of them mentioned the absence of the others, Enforcers who used to be Hounds 1 and 3 and 4. Only Hound 2 remained, and Ginoza could only worry whether the collar left behind by Hound 1 would fit him. His father had been a great detective at the expense of being a father, but Ginoza didn't think intuition could be genetically inherited.

Unlike disposition towards latent criminality.

There were two hounds where there once were four; there was one shepherd where there once were two. They had managed to replace the shepherd, but in the aftermath of the riots and with the desertion of three (officially; Ginoza suspected the number was more likely two) Enforcers, the criteria for selecting job candidates were tightened, and it left the department more understaffed than ever. There was even talk of doubling the existing Enforcers' shifts across divisions to make up for the shortage of manpower, and despite protests it would probably be implemented soon.

It made reasonable sense to, he supposed. With only two Enforcers in the division, they could only manage one shift if they followed the present guidelines on work hours. That was fine if there was only one Inspector. Now that they were getting a new one assigned, it would be inefficient if all four of them ended up on the same shifts all the time.

For now, he was just relieved. This meant that Inspector Tsunemori would have more time to mentor the new Inspector. Was she ready for that responsibility? He had faith in her capabilities, but he couldn't help feeling that it was too much, too soon.

Admittedly, he hadn't exactly been a passable mentor either. Resting his head against the wall behind him, he briefly thought about the first time he met her. There was nothing in their exchange that could be considered truly helpful, and he had been working in Public Safety for almost eight years then.

There wasn't anything to worry about. Really, Inspector Tsunemori would do a much better job than he did.

Naturally, Kunizuka refused to go easy on him when they sparred. He didn't ask, and she didn't offer.

After the third time she winded him, felled him and pinned him down with a well-placed foot to the throat, he was sure that she wasn't even going to consider easing up. There was a very steep learning curve ahead of him, indeed.

"How does this help, exactly?" he asked as she removed her foot and allowed him to sit up. He wasn't too thrilled about landing on the mat three times in a row, but he couldn't be bitter about it either. It didn't come as a surprise to him.

Kunizuka sipped her mineral water casually as she fixed him with an unblinking eye. "It doesn't."

He waited for her to explain. She didn't, choosing to ignore him while she capped her bottle and set it aside. This didn't come as a surprise either. Kunizuka had always been reticent. He learned more about her through a plastic pane when he tried to convince her to become an Enforcer than from working with her in the years following her acceptance.

Understanding that if he wanted to know anything he'd have to ask, he got to feet wearily. "What should I be doing then?"

She shrugged. "I guess it's good for you to try it out."

Not for the first time, he wished Kougami was the one in front of him instead. Kougami, with his annoying, borderline arrogant demeanor. Kougami, with his needlessly verbose explanations that Ginoza didn't care about ninety-nine percent of the time.

Kougami, who he now understood more than ever. Sometimes, that man had impeccably bad timing. Did he have to run off before Ginoza became an Enforcer?

Well, it wasn't as if Makishima's existence was Kougami's choice. Ginoza was probably just bitter because he had to swallow one too many unsaid words and trudge on as the one left behind.

A dull clicking noise caught his attention, and he turned his head to see Kunizuka tapping on the exposed metal of his prosthetic arm with a fingernail.

"What is it?"

"This is supposed to be a lot stronger than a normal arm, right?"

"… That's what the prosthetist said."

Without missing a beat she hooked her foot behind his knee and the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back staring up at her, too stunned to even speak. "It's useless if the rest of you can't keep up," she stated nonchalantly.

That roughly translated to 'train some more', he supposed. Kunizuka was easy to understand once you knew how. In any case, she was relatively direct and to the point. She didn't wind seemingly pointless circles around the point and speak in half-sentences unintentionally designed to leave the listener racking their brains for hours after.

Honestly, it wasn't as if he couldn't understand Kougami. He just didn't try. He thought he did, but he was actually waiting for Kougami to understand him.

The vehicle came to a smooth stop, and soft light diffused in from the exterior. It was still raining, but Kunizuka acted as though she didn't notice, maintaining her stately pace as she walked down the ramp.

Ginoza followed her lead, with his hands in the pockets of his coat. The rain refracted the glaring lights of the drones, making them seem muted and gentler. Under the temporary shelter set up as a base for this operation, two petite figures were already visible. One was obviously Inspector Tsunemori. The other was most likely the new Inspector. He would be lying if he said that his first reaction was confidence. The new Inspector was small, moved with uncertainty – what was he expecting, she was still a minor – but, he reminded himself, so was Inspector Tsunemori at first and look how far she had come since then.

Not that he was entirely proud about every aspect of her progress, either. All it took was one look at her to see the coldness in her eyes, the dispassionate set of her mouth, and then he would question if that was how they all were at twenty-one. Maybe they were. Probably not.

They took shelter from the rain as Inspector Tsunemori outlined her plan. Although this was an abandoned block, she explained, the situation was fairly manageable. The target was most likely alone, though armed since several street scanners had been disabled around here. He was probably prioritizing escape over confrontation, and the idea was to nail him before he figured out an escape plan. She would take Kunizuka-san and capture the target as quickly as possible, failing that they would attempt to box him into the warehouse area on the far side. Meanwhile, would Ginoza-san kindly accompany Inspector Shimotsuki in securing the link between the block and the warehouse area?

All this was said matter-of-factly, with no room for disagreement despite her polite words. Kunizuka digested it impassively, and he found nothing to question or suggest otherwise.

They armed themselves with the Dominators and left. Inspector Shimotsuki – her resemblance to the Inspector Tsunemori he first met was striking – looked at him expectantly.

"Ginoza-san… is it? Shall we be on our way?"

Ginoza nodded, gesturing for her to lead the way. "I believe Inspector Tsunemori intended for us to reach the warehouses from the outside." If he had read her intentions correctly, that was.

Inspector Shimotsuki pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "That makes sense. Let's go by that way, then."

Being an Enforcer didn't make as much difference as he thought it would. Of course, there was the conspicuous lack of freedom that Kagari never failed to bitch about at every chance. There was constant supervision, by Inspectors at work and drones where Inspectors weren't.

The real surprise was that it didn't feel as stifling as he expected it to. It was almost as if there was no real difference in his life. Even when he was 'free', he spent more time cooped up in his apartment than anywhere else.

Besides, the Sibyl System was always watching every street corner and park and anywhere else he might go. So much for being free.

Inspector Tsunemori had been kind enough to spend one of her days off helping him clean up the room that belonged to Masaoka. There was, naturally, a great deal that had to be disposed of, and in fact the policy was for all personal belongings of inactive Enforcers to be discarded. Ginoza didn't feel anything when tossing his father's clothes and art supplies into the large cardboard box, but he drew the line at the collection of paintings and alcohol. The alcohol still sat untouched on the shelves, and the paintings remained stacked against the walls, covered by transparent plastic sheeting. He had no idea what he was going to do with them, they were just taking up space. It simply felt blasphemous to throw away anything that was so personal that it was almost as if they carried a bit of his father's soul within them.

That was, if souls existed. The concept of souls sounded like something that came from a time where there were elements of a human that could remain intangible, a romantic idea that no doubt would have had more credibility before cymatic scans made it possible for the intangibility to be quantified and made legible.

Despite that, they remained and Ginoza was getting slightly better at ignoring the wave of regret that rushed at him every time he looked over.

However, there was one important difference between living outside and living at the Bureau.

He had, with trepidation and some guilt, mentioned the existence of his dog to Inspector Tsunemori as they sealed the boxes marked for disposal. Dime was a very old dog, over twenty years old, but had been healthy the last he saw him. Ginoza wasn't too worried because the artificial intelligence that ran his apartment would have taken care of feeding Dime, and once it appeared that his latent criminal status was permanent, his apartment would have been repossessed along with his dog. Whatever it was, Ginoza was sure that barring old age, Dime would be fine. It didn't mean that he wouldn't miss his only remaining family member though.

"So where is he now?" Inspector Tsunemori asked with a hint of cheer in her voice. He couldn't blame her. In hindsight, the stories of his childhood were more amusing than not.

Ginoza shrugged as he wrote 'For Disposal' on the beige masking tape. "He's most likely in a dog shelter now." If his age hadn't caught up with him yet.

"Oh." Inspector Tsunemori's face fell a little. "Aren't you concerned about him?"

"It doesn't matter," he told her. "He'll be well-taken care of." Ginoza had considered asking her to find out where Dime was sent as a favor, but he thought she had quite enough on her shoulders without him adding his selfish requests.

She seemed unconvinced, and when he looked up, she was staring at him from the other side of the box.

The intensity of her stare made him uncomfortable. "What?"

"I think it'd be nice if you relied on me a bit more, Ginoza-san," she said with a touch of wistfulness. "It sounds like he means a lot to you."

Perceptive, as expected. "Inspector Tsunemori, it's really alright…"

She sighed and instructed the drone to pick up the box. The brown expanse that he was writing on only a moment ago rose a few inches and scooted away smoothly, accompanied by a faint whirring noise. "You're as stubborn as always. He responds to 'Dime', right?"

"Inspector Tsunemori, what are you—" he was cut off when she took a step forward and looked directly into his eyes. Despite the height difference between them, he felt as though it was insignificant when she wore such a determined expression.

"No matter what you say, I'm going to find out where he is. Of course, it'll be much easier if you'll help me."

Her face finally softened into a smile again, and Ginoza promptly forgot all about trying to talk her out of it.

Around the time where Inspector Tsunemori was briefing them, the rain had lightened into a drizzle. Their route was slick with water, and careless splashes accompanied their progress.

"Um… may I ask what kind of criteria do you use to judge crime?"

Surprised, Ginoza looked over his shoulder at the new Inspector that was trailing closely behind him. The Dominator in her hands was held at shoulder level with its mouth pointing upwards, and her finger was already on the trigger. Her brow was furrowed, her posture defensive. It was as though she really wanted to know but didn't know if she should ask.

As for himself, he had no idea what she was referring to. "What do you mean by that?"

Seeing that he wasn't about to chew her head off for asking such a question, she lowered the Dominator slightly, her fingers relaxing on the grip. "I-Inspector Tsunemori said that you all have different criteria for judging crime, s-so…"

He couldn't resist letting out a wry chuckle at that. He could only think of several instances where that explanation would have been appropriate, but he was sure that Inspector Tsunemori only had one person in mind when she said that. "That sounds like something she would say."

"So it's true?" she pressed, and he could see the clinical blue glow of the Dominator reflected in those wide eyes.

Ginoza gave a non-committal shrug and faced forward. "I'm not very sure about that. It's difficult to explain how you judge someone as a criminal. Do you have a list of criteria that you use? Can you explain it if I asked you to?"

Her footsteps faltered for a second, but she recovered almost immediately. "Not really…"

"Anyway, at the end of the day, we Enforcers have to follow the orders of the Inspectors and the judgment of the Dominators, so you shouldn't let it bother you." Only they didn't always obey, and he knew that. Still, he saw no point in overwhelming the new Inspector on her first day of work.

"I understand! I look forward to working with you!"

"Likewise, Inspector."

They were emerging from the brightly lit, populated streets of the district to the quieter storage areas. If they continued on, they would reach the harbor, but that wasn't where they were supposed to be. They were supposed to watch the link between the abandoned office buildings and the warehouses. Silently, he took a left turn down the next alley to reach their destination. Even though they were just backup, it didn't mean they could slack off.

Inspector Tsunemori probably already managed to narrow down the possible places where their target was hiding, he thought, which explained her decisiveness. Kunizuka was faster and more reactive that he was, and between the two of them they would probably make it a quick, all-or-nothing strike that had a high probability of success. Asking him and Inspector Shimotsuki to come all this way was more a formality than any real need for backup.

They emerged into an open space. On two adjacent sides, the concrete walls of single-story warehouses blocked off the artificial lights of the bustling entertainment district and left potential escape routes to narrow alleyways. On one, a two-way road separated them from the abandoned office block. On the last side, a mountain of crates cast stark jagged shadows over the concrete slabs.

Ginoza slipped the Dominator into its holster and headed for the crates, hoisting himself on top of the nearest one and testing to see if it would take his weight. The damp wood didn't even creak, so he bent down and offered his gloved left hand to Inspector Shimotsuki. Her eyes widened as she took it and felt unyielding metal under the leather instead of softer flesh, but she didn't hesitate and climbed up beside him.

She must have been curious. He could see it in the way she held herself: angled to keep him in sight, the bob of her ponytail as she shot glances down at his hand. The piled crates behind them hid them in shadows, and the height provided them a clear view of the road. From here, it was not impossible to take down someone using the Dominator… though he doubted that he or Inspector Shimotsuki would be up to that.

"If you don't mind me asking…" Inspector Shimotsuki looked distinctly uncomfortable, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Is that a prosthetic arm?"

"Yes," he replied shortly.

He was sure that what she wanted to ask was what happened and when, but – perhaps out of courtesy – she refrained and sidestepped the issue.

For a few moments, there was only the sound of the wispy breeze blowing through narrow alleys to the harbor, a wind that carried the scent of dirt and smoke from the city.

"What else did Inspector Tsunemori tell you?" Ginoza asked, though he kept his eyes and most of his attention on the other side of the road.

"Eh? Um… She said that I should trust you, but at the same time be c—" here she stumbled, "be cautious."

"She's right about that, Inspector." He should have known that Inspector Tsunemori would do a much better job of breaking in the rookie than he did. Really, he shouldn't have worried.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the blue after-trails of light from the Dominator as Inspector Shimotsuki presumably fidgeted. "She also said that the CID is very short on manpower, so she can't treat me like a newbie."

This got his attention. Those words, the way they were phrased, sounded familiar somehow.

"But she's actually letting me hang back now, isn't she?" continued Inspector Shimotsuki. He couldn't make out her expression in the dark, but her voice sounded pensive.

He was about to shrug it off with a 'who knows' – but was cut off by an incoming call. That was sooner than he expected, and could mean either bad or very good news.

[This is Shepherd 1. We have the target. Shepherd 2 and Hound 1, please return to base.]

Hound 1. He was Hound 1 now. Somehow hearing it for the first time didn't leave as much impact as he thought it would.

He exchanged a look with Inspector Shimotsuki, who seemed to be keeping up fairly well. Was she glad that the other team had succeeded? Cautiously, he got off the crate and held out his hand again to help her down.

As expected, they weren't really needed this time round. He felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed – relieved because it was his first mission on the front lines, as an Enforcer, and disappointed because he felt like he was being coddled and not trusted. Much as he didn't want it to, much as it felt wrong, disappointment won out and he was left to hope that it didn't show too obviously.

In silence, they headed back to report, this time cutting through the abandoned block. It was shorter going through it, and there was no point in going around now.

"Ginoza-san, if I may ask one more question?"

He nearly tripped over a rusted pipe that he didn't quite see in the terribly inadequate lighting, but recovered quickly enough that it wasn't noticeable (he hoped).

"What is it?"

"The other Enforcer… is Kunizuka-san, am I right?"

That question seemed slightly out of place to him, though he answered without a second thought. Too many other things were clouding his mind for him to pay attention to anything else.

It was only when they were back in the suffocating darkness of the paddy wagon that Kunizuka brought it up.

"Ginoza."

Surprised that she was starting a conversation with him, he could only manage a wordless vocalization in response.

Kunizuka correctly took that as assent and went on. "Do you remember her? The new Inspector."

"What are you talking about?" He had no idea what she was driving at, and in the dark he couldn't see what kind of expression she was wearing either. Not that it would have helped at all, her face was usually as emotionless as her voice.

"She should still be at Oso Academy."

It took him a second to catch her point. "… I see."

The facts fitted nicely: her age, her mentality, her job evaluation. Ginoza wasn't sure if this meant he could worry less or if he should worry more.

... He'd probably end up worrying more.

End of chapter 1