#also yes i chose Finny as the brothers name because of Black Butler don't @ me

[buryyourfavouritestrope]

May I walk you home? - Arima Kishou

A gentle hum settled within the corridors of the CCG Main Office; all the hype that had been built throughout the day had fizzled out hours ago.  Almost every employee had returned to their homes, leaving only the skeleton crews occupying the building.

He hadn’t meant to stay this late; Yoshitoki had pleaded with him earlier in the afternoon, when he’d visited Arima’s office spontaneously and found the man half asleep behind his desk, to go home and sleep in an actual bed. With a sigh he tore himself free of his chair, the material whined as it sprung back to its original form.  In his mind he reminded himself that he’d go home to shower and change before returning. There would be no point in resting; by the time he planted his head on his pillow he’d be beckoned back.

Kishou almost missed the sound of pen scratching at paper. If he hadn’t become so fine tuned to every creak and hushed whisper this level of the building emitted, he probably would’ve overlooked the simple noise. Yet, the soft sigh caressing his ears enticed him into finding the source.

Peering through an empty doorway he spotted her, a small frame hunched over a desk, with a pen cocked to her temple as she focused on the file before her. By the way her eyes would occasionally slid shut and stay there for a second before opening wide she was struggling to stay awake. Arima chose this moment to check the time once again.

“Normally people finish a write up of the day on the opposite side of midnight.” Arima theorized, to say the way she bounced in her seat and dropped all items in her hands didn’t amuse him would’ve been an understatement. He was attempting, rather poorly might he add, to contain a smirk.

“Special Class Investigator Kishou,” She yelped. “I just wanted to finish one file…three or six files ago. What time is it? Oh god, I had to visit-“Her eyes glanced towards her phone, the screen illuminating as the numbers burned into her retinas. She hadn’t meant to stay this late. She hadn’t meant to still be in the office after a thirty-six-hour shift.

“It’s ok, I’ve had my fair share of late nights. But you really should go home now, I hear your last investigation was difficult. It’s not uncommon for a ghoul’s threat level to rise in the field but to go from a lower-class ghoul to an SS rating.” He surmised. Her frame jumped from her seat as she began to wave her bandaged arms at him. As if to stop him from speaking any further.

“It was all the other members of the team, in fact I came away with only light injuries, I can’t say the same for the others.” She blurted. Arima let himself smile gently; he hadn’t met an Associate Special Class Investigator who was as humble as she was. Nor had he seen one with as much untainted innocence at their rank. “I offered to finish their case notes, as a way to help them.”

The room fell into the same gentle hum, Arima had found himself used to, once more. Her weight shifted on her feet as she chewed at her bottom lip. He could see her contemplating something and if he had to guess it would be whether to abandon the paperwork and leave or remain dedicated.

“May I walk you home?” Kishou questioned; it was an attempt to settle her mental debate. “if not now, I can wait for when you’re ready to leave” He added. Arima was curious. He’d always heard everyone’s praise for the Investigator but up until now he’d never conversed properly with her.

“We live in opposite directions” She spluttered, her hand lifting to her lips. “Not that I know where you live, I just meant that I would’ve guessed you lived in the nicer part of the city. I mean the guys in my team tend to call where I live a Ghoul hotspot, I mean I’ve only witnessed one incident outside of work” Her babble made him laugh. A rare noise indeed and it took her a second to notice as she continued talking.

“Even more reason to, plus a perk of being called the White Reaper means ghouls tend to steer clear of me” He jested. Another rare occurrence. The second in the space of five minutes, maybe he was exhausted. Still, he stood firm in the doorway. His eyes watching as she gathered her belongings without hesitation. Clearly, she’d given up protesting.

Before they knew it, they’d wandered further from the ominous Main office. Arima had listened as she stammered her way through the previously mentioned Ghoul case. Occasionally she would brush her fingers over one of her bandaged arms, he assumed she was doing it to remind herself that she wasn’t dreaming.

“What made you want to be an Investigator?” Arima inquired; her movements paused and for a second Arima doubted whether he’d asked the right question. He was curious, everything about her screamed that she was in the wrong profession. From the way she smiled to the way her eyes sparkled when she was nervous. Out loud he wouldn’t admit to it, but he found himself wanting to protect her from the harsh reality of the CCG. From the horrors of the world. Even in this short amount of time she had wiggled beneath the surface of his soul and infected him. He understood why everyone liked her so much.

“My brother,” The syllables held a weight he knew all to well. The numbness that consumed him hung from every letter as he turned his gaze to her. The shadows perfectly masked the emotions scattering across her features. Normally he would pry, a desperate attempt to study the joy people usually held when talking about their motivation. He wanted to be able to imitate it, perhaps to fool himself into believing he could be the same.

“I’m sorry” He found himself apologising, his eyes shifting to watch the surroundings. He’d taken note of almost everyone who had crossed their path. It was a precaution, should he need to fight.

“No, don’t be. If he were here, he’d be fanboying over you, I mean the sort of jaw to the floor type of excitement kids get with tv. He was insanely obsessed with Investigators, he got it from watching our mother. They both had a bizarre joy for dangerous situations. Finny was always an adrenaline junkie, he used to use balcony railings as tightropes, or play chicken in the roads near our home. My mother was always out, so it was my job to watch him. As a teenager he became hyper fixated on Ghouls and Investigators and for a while it was an innocent intrigue into how they fought. As a teenager he wanted to watch our mother in action. He wanted to watch Investigator’s fight in all their glory. So, at night he’d go paroling the back alleys for any Ghouls in our Ward. I used to follow after him just to ensure he didn’t get into any trouble or injured. Most of the time he’d only stumble on human crimes, a few times he’d stumble across a long-abandoned Ghoul attack. Our mother died on a mission years before I thought about joining. In fact, I only really wanted to be a bookstore clerk. Her death though sparked something in Finny, it drove him. He would go out longer, he’d go to the rougher areas. Every time I’d follow after him” She faltered briefly.

“Did he ever get into trouble? I can’t imagine all the time he only saw the back end of a ghoul hunt” Arima asked. It was stupid. He knew that the second he spoke, but his mouth moved quicker than his thoughts. She gave him a false smile. The type he’d used a few times.

“Oh boy, there were a couple close shaves. I used to throw him into a dumpster and cover his mouth to stop us from getting caught by a Ghoul. When we got home, he’d be angry but apologise and promise me he wouldn’t do anything reckless. He died shortly after our mother. For the longest time I blamed myself, he went to parole at the height of Ghoul activity back then, if I remember correctly you were just starting out at the CCG, and he used to rave about a certain blue haired investigator that he occasionally caught site of. I refused to go the night he was injured. I was exhausted from school and a part time job, so I begged him not to go. Selfish am I right?” She croaked. By now Arima should’ve stopped her. He should’ve placed a hand on her shoulder and hushed her as tears slowly fell down her face. Instead, he followed her steps as they turned the corner. The older Investigator wanted to disagree with her. It wasn’t selfish to value her own rest.

Kishou’s mind threw itself back to his beginnings with the CCG, he vaguely remembered hearing about an ordinary human turning up at fights. No-one quite understood how they kept finding them, but they had. The muffled whispers in his memory, caused him to step closer to the younger Investigator. It hadn’t been as though the pavement had narrowed beneath their feet. Arima had done it out of instinct as he listened to his own teenage voice in his memories. He remembered calling the unknown witness a fool, who would find himself dead.

“A bookstore clerk” Arima mused, he had meant to say it in his mind. Once again, his mouth betrayed him. He listened to her soft laugh. “I could see you doing that, just from everything that happened I would’ve thought you’d stay as far from the CCG as you could get.”

“Believe me I wanted nothing more than to move to a new country at that point, start a fresh somewhere less influenced by Ghoul’s but I kept hearing Finny, I kept visualising how happy he would get whenever he saw Investigators out and about. I’d never seen him happier, so I guess I joined to keep his memory alive. Especially after he died, even dying he was smiling as he clung to a piece of what I think was a Quinque” She recalled. “I found him the next morning, I almost fell over his half dead body as I left my room. He was gripping this Quinque shard as I tried to stop the bleeding. I think he accepted it, he just kept saying that the Investigators were beautiful. Apparently, he’d watched two Investigators take down a lower ranked Ghoul and they’d seen him. As they went to yell at him for putting himself in danger, some SS rated Ghoul turned up. Before they’d reached him, one of them had been killed. So the second one did his best to protect Finny. I don’t know how he got out. But he did. I was the only one he knew at his funeral. Just me and the Investigator who told me about the events”  

“I’m sorry,” Arima apologised once more. This time he placed his hand on her shoulder.

“It’s ok, it’s how life is sometime, I haven’t really told anyone that story, you’re the first.” She smiled at him. Her hands pointed to the home beside them and Arima found himself questioning when they had arrived. Or when his thumb had begun to rub circles into her shoulder. “This is me”

“Yes, then this is where we part ways. Thank you for answering my question. Good Night Asso-“ She cut him off.

“It’s really late, and I’d feel really bad if you had to walk all the way home. I mean the sun would be up before you arrived. So can I offer you the guest room. It’s not much but the bed’s better than the sofa. I have some of my dad’s old shirts in a box that I can fish out for you tomorrow morning.” Her words caught him by surprise. His eyes widening at the offer, he should’ve refused. He really should’ve refused but he found himself nodding.

He was staying because he was tired, because she had spoken to him as though he were her friend or family and because he could’ve sworn, bathed in the moonlight, he could see the vulnerability that encircled her eyes. She needed the company, he convinced himself, and though he knew he wasn’t much in the form of comfort he followed her inside.