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“Yesterday night, CCG agents spread out across the hunting grounds of Rabbit, the ghoul that killed you.”
Amon Koutarou was kneeling in front of a plain grey headstone, one that only had a name and date engraved into it. Though his knees dug into the grass he still towered above the grave. He was intensely grateful for this; it was easier to avoid staring directly at his superior’s resting place.
“I chose to follow my intuition that night, just like you always taught me. Incidentally, I did not encounter Rabbit directly.”
He hesitated for a second, taking an unsteady breath.
“I cornered the Eyepatch ghoul instead.”
He had come here today to deliver the status report he had failed to the week before. And the week before that. And… actually, he hadn’t come here since Nagachika and himself had misled Akira, guiding her off the trail of Eyepatch, therefore steering her away from Rabbit.
What he was doing here wasn’t uncommon for Doves and he didn’t have to worry about others listening in (the information he was divulging to a pile of ashes was confidential). This plot of land was dedicated to those who had fallen in battle with ghouls. It was free - it spared the families of ghoul investigators frightening funeral expenses (who wanted to cremate a mutilated body or bury something that’s likely to be desecrated sometime in the future?).
The land was also usually void of visitors. Too many painful memories prevented people from coming here regularly. In fact, recent deaths could be identified by the fresh flowers surrounding the headstones (Mado’s were a little wilted and he felt a deep pang of guilt).
“I had him pinned to a wall in an alley for a period of time, during which I questioned him. However, there was a…distraction. Eyepatch misled the other investigators into believing…no. I misled…no, that’s not…ugh. It…the capture mission failed. Rabbit escaped with several other ghouls.”
Amon’s words toppled out of his mouth too quickly to sound believable. His tongue felt heavy with the half-truths he couldn’t make whole.
“Eyepatch managed to get away as well, Mado.”
And he was so horrendously giddy about that fact. It was sickening, how delighted he had been to hear that the Doves pursuing Kaneki had been led by the nose for hours. Amon’s stomach curled with warmth at the idea that Kaneki was safe at home even as he visited the man the ghoul had indirectly slaughtered.
Amon never expected to become a terrible person, yet here he was.
“I could have avenged you.”
He whispered, digging the fabric of his suit pants further into the damp sod and resting his forehead against cool marble. He was the worst kind of bastard, scum who was unable to face the dead, filth who couldn’t appease the angry ghosts he’d created.
“I could have…but I failed you.”
He had, really. He’d failed Mado so completely he didn’t think it was possible for him to redeem himself. Amon had allowed Rabbit to escape not only his grasp, but the CCG's. Technically, he had even aided her escape by playing a role in Kaneki’s plan.
Worse, he’d let himself be swayed by a ghoul multiple times (the things Kaneki had said to him constantly lingered in his mind. The electric sensation of their skin brushing lingered too).
“I’m sor-“
He wasn’t, though. He wasn’t even sorry. Mado had died for this, for the sake of keeping humanity safe, for the eradication of ghouls! He had fallen prey to Amon’s weakness, his daughter was tortured by the idea that his killer still lives, CCG agents were put in danger by pursuing an unknown enemy, and Amon couldn’t even apologize to a grave.
Amon ground his head against the stone. Several strands of dark hair snagged on the rough surface and tore free from his scalp. The pain provided him no relief, however he did not stop.
Mado was his idol. It had taken him years in the academy to recover from the trauma inflicted by Donato’s actions and he had spent much of his time distancing himself from his peers. They felt too much like his devoured and defiled family.
Mado had been his first partner and the one to bring him out of his shell the most. He’d reintroduced him to the rest of the CCG, made him go out to get drinks and dinner, and taught him patiently.
It was embarrassing to admit, but Mado had become his father figure during his several years of correcting Amon’s mistakes. At one point he had even been jealous of Mado’s kid, long before he ever met Akira, because Mado was the ideal father he never had. He had visited her school, braided her hair, paid for her horse-back riding lessons (trying and failing to learn himself), made her lunches, and treasured her terrible art during her childhood.
Mado had once even carried photos of her in his wallet before he pegged it as a liability, something that could lead vengeful ghouls to stalk and kill her. By the time Amon had become his partner, Akira was practically an adult, but Mado still spoke of her fondly and with understanding. He was a good man.
Unfortunately, listing the positive traits of his old partner could not erase the memory of Kaneki’s grey eyes falling shut, his expressions of vulnerability and trust, or the tears tracking down his cheeks when he begged to be absolved of a murder he hadn't committed yet.
Instead, all the images of Mado stored in his brain, all the features that he respected in him, overlapped with the Eyepatch ghoul standing between Amon and his masked friends, willing to die to protect a pack of monsters.
Now that his mind was betraying him at last, Amon realized Kaneki hadn’t been the only one who had stood before him like that. The woman with the butterfly wings (a massive kagune that she wielded clumsily) had displayed the very same feral protective instinct when they had stalked her in the rain.
Ah, Mado had always loved the downpour because it lessened the risk for the investigators…
Or was it because it cleaned the blood from the streets?
Perhaps…it was the fear the shone in the eyes of the ghouls who never saw them coming?
Amon flinched away from the gravestone as if burned and sat heavily of the furrowed earth.
“Do not speak ill of the dead.”
He murmured, lifting his cross (his reminder: ghouls were evil) to his lips. He had been losing himself to doubt and it had taken on an ugly form. He had no desire to belittle the man he had respected so greatly in life. Mado always wanted what was best for them (for him). He wouldn’t have loved rainy days for such an awful reason.
An icy breeze blew through the empty burial site and pierced his chest. His breathing paused and he could swear he felt cold hands sliding down the collar of his shirt (hands covered in blood and tipped with black fingernails, slender and tempting).
Amon shuddered uncomfortably and his heart began to race, each contraction filling him with more anxiety than blood. A whisper of a recollection thickened the dread inside of him.
“Any last words?”
“Hinami, li-“
And then she was decapitated.
Had she been asking her daughter to live?
That was cruel, wasn’t it? But he had also mocked the butterfly woman for pretending to be human.
She had been weak, his traitorous mind recalled. Too weak to even pose a threat.
“It’s a husband and wife set!”
Mado crowed, dual wielding a set of quinques with a disconcerting twinkle in his eye.
“I wonder if they’ll call out to their daughter?”
Amon laid down completely, staring sightlessly at the blue sky above his head.
“She seems to have a good sense of smell. I wonder what an arm could do…I wonder if she’ll come.”
Hadn’t that been a play on the very emotions they had mocked? If it was, that would mean Mado had known that some ghouls could feel. That…that was wrong. That was so wrong.
Could Amon really deny knowing the same thing, however? Had it really never occurred to him that a mother would protect her child, no matter what species they were?
The weight of a judge’s gavel settled on his shoulders. It pushed down against him, pinning him in place, with all the force of a final sentence (guilty…he was so guilty). Whatever faults he found in his instructor, Amon must also find in himself. He had aided and abetted every action that he currently found reprehensible.
“It’s regrettable that you’ve decided everything is wrong while you still don’t know your opponent. I can’t bring myself to think that is correct.”
That’s what Eyepatch had told him during their first meeting. Those were the words that had followed him like a ball and chain to their second, guiding his footsteps and forcing him to save the young ghoul's life.
Heavy as they were, he had never taught them to Akira. He feared they did not contain the ideals of the CCG and that his worries would taint his student (dragging her down with him).
Was he capable of teaching Akira to be a proper investigator, shaken as he was? He didn’t want to pretend in front of her anymore. However, he couldn’t bear the idea of losing her trust and respect.
“Why did things have to change?”
He questioned the empty sky, wishing that his God would send him a sign. The only answer he received was a painful twist in his gut.
“A ghoul killed my family.”
(but spared him)
“A ghoul killed Harima.”
(while she tried to kill them)
“Ghouls killed Mado’s wife and his coworkers.”
(agents of the CCG, people who kill ghouls)
“A ghoul killed Mado.”
(and another told Amon to run away)
“Even God believes in revenge. Justice is retribution for sin.”
(yet he believed in forgiveness and redemption in the afterlife)
“Mado was a good man.”
(Amon was not wrong. This world was wrong and ghouls were the ones polluting it)
“I believe in the academy that raised me and the tenants they taught me. Mado is someone I respect and love.”
(as he sat up however, only his back faced the smooth grey marble emblazoned with his mentor’s name)
“He saw the world for what it was.”
Amon reassured himself, chanting the things he knew to be true like a mantra. The wind whistled by again though, carrying with it the taint of the night before.
“Trust me and my friends won’t be killing yours tonight.”
And they hadn't. Everyone Amon knew escaped the ambush unscathed.
Something inside of Amon was crumbling. It was turning to ashes (like the ones in the box beneath his feet), making him feel hollow and small. During their first meeting, Kaneki had said,
“Everyone should learn more.”
In the swamp of his confusion and hesitation, Amon clung to those words like a lifeline. He wanted to justify these feelings (honouring Mado, holding onto Kaneki, letting murderers trickle between his fingers like blood). He wanted everything to be alright again. It never would be, though.
It couldn’t be, not when he couldn’t tell what Mado would have said if he'd fought Kaneki in Amon’s place. Not while he could imagine Mado accompanying him to the torture room in Aogiri’s base and stripping Kaneki’s terrified body of its kagune.
Alone in a graveyard, Amon sat with his back against the symbol of his old friend’s passing and sobbed wretchedly. He couldn’t admit his faults on his own. He couldn’t stand to be betrayed by a father he had faith in again.
He needed...Amon had to see Kaneki one more time to be sure, to let go of the ideology that was being eroded by the wind one grain at a time. He wanted to talk to him.
The only person he could really trust was a ghoul who barely trusted him.