He's not, as it turns out.

Rui feels this resolutely - that her time could be better spent elsewhere, anywhere - when Nomura-san introduces himself, holding out a half-hearted hand, the other threading through his dark hair. He doesn't look at her, instead focusing his gray-eyed gaze on his watch, which he's turned so that the clock face looks out from the inside of his wrist.

"Nomura Shin, First Class Ghoul Investigator. You are?"

He says it in that way that indicates he has no real interest in her plight, the words stiff and practiced, as though he's reciting lines from a script and doesn't have the heart to say them with feeling.

Rui scowls, ignoring his hand. She might have been impressed to find he's a First Class Investigator if he hadn't already made such a dismal first impression. She crosses her arms beneath her chest, chin lifted ever so slightly. Whatever fear has stolen her confidence as of late has been brushed aside in the wake of her bubbling anger.

"Kitamura Rui."

Shin lifts a brow.

"Kitamura-san. And you're here because....?

"I'm not trying to be rude," Rui says abruptly (which is true, given that she's not exactly trying), "but I was told you like helping people out, Nomura-san."

"Oh, that? Chi-chan likes to think so. Sakura-chan, too. But it's not me, not really. Lately I've been getting pushed into taking care of people because of my rookie's insistence."

Rookie?

"But I suppose that's not pertinent information," Shin sighs. He chances a look behind him, and Rui follows his gaze back to the secretary's desk; she's watching their exchange carefully over the tops of her tortoiseshell glasses, brown eyes narrowed. Shin sighs again, one eye closed in contemplation. "You're here for a reason, so get on with it. There's a lull in my case load at the moment, so if you have anything worthwhile, now's the time to share it."

Suddenly, Rui wants to run. It's irrational, it's pathetic - but Shin is looking at her like she's a way to pass the time and she feels even worse under the scrutinizing gaze of Chi-chan. These people don't care about Kaori. No one does, not Harada, not the police. Certainly not Nomura Shin.

But she's come this far. She can't leave empty-handed. Kaori wouldn't stand for it.

"I'm a trainee at the local paper," she explains, mimicking her gesture from yesterday and bringing out her ID, which Shin barely looks at. "My former mentor, Ikehara Kaori, disappeared a week ago. The police can't find any traces of her, no one knows where she might've gone. I'm worried." She swallows thickly, realizing with a wince that he hand has moved to clasp her phone in her pocket. "She sent me a text some time before she disappeared, telling me not to check up on her, and I just... It's not like it wasn't like something Ikehara-san would do, this is totally her style, but the fact that no one knows what happened and the place she was investigating before..."

"And where would that be?"

Rui bites her lip, looking up at Shin through lowered lashes.

"...Um" - damn her stutter - "...the Closed Ward."

This, if nothing else, seems to draw Shin in, as his stance loosens up slightly, his hands dropping from his hips. He cocks his head, considering her, and her brows pinch together, an anxious shiver dancing up her spine. Before Shin can reply, though, Rui hears the distinctive chime of elevator doors opening, and surprisingly it's Shin who turns in response to it.

"About time, rookie! I hope Takashi didn't talk your ear off about the proper maintenance of quinques; the man doesn't know when to quit when he gets going."

The man exiting the elevator smiles softly, subconsciously touching a hand to the shell of his ear. He's dressed sharply despite his youth, sporting a suit similar to Shin's, black and tailored. Teal eyes, smoky black hair; an impressive build, wide shoulders. He has a stern look to him, something about the set of his jaw or the intensity of his brow, but the warmth of his eyes counters it in such a way that Rui instantly likes him far more than she does Shin.

The rookie hurries over, taking a place at Shin's side. He glances curiously at Rui, who, in turn, is studying him rather perplexedly, but looks back to Shin a moment later.

"Rookie Amon," Shin says by way of an introduction, jerking his chin at the black-haired man, "this is Kitamura-san. She's here asking for our help."

Rui blinks. Something about Shin's tone irks her; his words don't match up with the contemplative frown curling his thin lips. In fact, more than just simply relaying information, they sound as though they're meant to goad her into a response, and she really does not have it in her to deny Shin that satisfaction.

"Nomura-san, I--"

"What can we do for you, Kitamura-san?"

Another blink. Rui's eyes fall to Amon's outstretched hand, and before she's fully registered the action she's moved her own to meet him. His fingers are rough, his palm calloused; she wonders what sort of training he does outside of work, as she notes there's a startling difference between Shin and Amon's physiques. Where Shin is lean and compact, Amon has width and definition. She imagines it's standard for an investigator to be as fit as Shin, so whatever Amon has in addition to that is for reasons other than his desire to be employed with the CCG.

There's a moment of silence between the three of them, permeated by the tap-tap-tap of Chi-chan's fingers on her keyboard, and the rush of air sweeping into the building every time the door opens. Shin, growing impatient, hooks a hand around Rui's elbow, beginning to steer her towards a hall that branches away from the lobby. Amon makes a noise of protest as Rui's expression colors dangerously, but a look from Shin all but silences him.

The hall ends at the intersection of three doorways, and Shin pulls out a keycard from his pocket to swipe in front of a scanner attached to the middle door. There's a buzz, then the click of a lock undoing, and he pushes his way into the room with Rui in tow, Amon close on their heels. She's led to a square, uncomfortable-looking chair, where she's unceremoniously directed to sit (at which point she confirms her suspicions, immediately fidgeting in a vain attempt to find a suitable sitting position). Shin leans against the lone desk occupying the room, and Rui's eyes briefly flick to the nameplate just to the right of him.

Nomura Shin - First Class

Dammit. He has an office.

"Well? Feel a bit more ready to explain why your mentor had a death wish?"

"W-what?"

"You said she was investigating the Closed Ward, right?" Shin asks, slowly, an edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. Rui sits straighter in her seat. "Either she was hellbent on getting herself arrested, given that it's a crime to enter that area without permission from the government, or she was incredibly depressed and ready to end it all. Or maybe she was just stupid."

"Ikehara-san wasn't - isn't--"

"Look, it doesn't really matter to me why she was looking into that ward. What matters is that you think she went there all on her own, and that it has something to do with her disappearing. You think ghouls were involved."

She opens her mouth, but can't bring herself to deny it. She wouldn't be here if ghouls weren't on her mind, and Nomura Shin is smart enough to realize that she's serious in coming here. Her fingers curl into the fabric of her jeans as she draws in a slow breath, holding it for a heartbeat before exhaling.

"I do," she murmurs, because her temper has flared and fallen already, and because she hasn't been sleeping; because she's tired, and because she just wants Kaori back, to laugh at her when she spills coffee all over her work, to encourage her when she's too scared to approach a target. To just be here, with her, and not... gone. "It's... it's not the only explanation, but knowing Ikehara-san, I can't say she wouldn't have gone to the Closed Ward. And, um... you know, we really don't have a clue why the government decided it was uninhabitable..."

Rui rubs at her wrists, knowing if she doesn't occupy her hands they'll end up wrapped around her phone again. It isn't healthy to be so obsessed with those messages, to feel so utterly guilty over their existence and her inaction. But it's not her own health she's worried about right now.

"Did you say Ikehara-san?"

Rui raises her eyes to meet Amon's, as he's stepped forward to stand just off to the side of Shin, but just as quickly looks down again. Red lines scrape across the backs of her hands, and she consciously shifts so that she's sitting on them instead.

"Yeah, Ikehara Kaori. My... mentor." She needs to stop referring to Kaori in the past tense. Despite Kaori not being affiliated with their newspaper anymore, she's Rui's mentor, her one and only teacher; it's not as though anyone can fill her place. "Do you know her?"

"Of her. And very little at that," Amon admits when Shin gives him the go-ahead. "Her skills as a reporter are... infamous in my home ward."

Infamous. Kaori would love to hear that. She's not much for traveling to other wards unless it's for work, and if that's the case she's too focused on scraping together details for her case to notice the local gossip; she wouldn't know how she's perceived anywhere but the eighteenth ward.

"Would she do something like this? Check out the Closed Ward?" Shin asks, directing the question to Amon with a not-so-subtle look at Rui, one that conveys just how little credit he gives her word. Her hands clench into fists beneath her thighs.

Amon nods slowly. "I would say it's a safe bet."

Shin hums thoughtfully, tucking a hand beneath his chin.

"Then we shouldn't leave this alone."

Rui think she must have misheard him. For a moment, her chest seizes, and her hands go slack, her eyes wide.

Is he really...?

"I'll go inform the higher-ups we'll be taking on a new case. Amon, escort the little lady out, will you? We'll call," Shin adds with a meaningful smirk at Rui, though she's too dazed to care about what meaning it had. Rolling his eyes, Shin claps Amon on the shoulder as he passes, then he's out the door and down the hall. Gone. Just like that.

"Kitamura-san?"

A light touch on her arm is enough to send her reeling, and she slips from her perch on the chair to topple to the ground, breathless, heart racing against her rib cage.

Damn.

Simply knowing someone would be looking into Kaori's case properly filled Rui with an incomprehensible hope, blotting out her pessimistic thoughts if only for that one moment. But unfortunately for her, her focus had been entirely too inward, seeing as she failed to notice Amon's slight pestering.

He has her back on her feet just as quickly as she fell, his brow knitted with concern. She smiles even though it's the last thing she wants to do right now, murmuring her gratitude.

"I'm fine, no worries," she assures him, though he looks far from convinced. She's reminded of her earlier encounter, when she bumped into the man in her apartment building; he hadn't cared all that much to follow up with her, and she hadn't thought anything of it. People are naturally self-serving, and for good reason. The threat of ghouls should have thrown humanity together, but Rui knows it's done more to drive them apart, separate in heart and mind, in morals and values. The ghouls bring out the worst in humans.

But, she supposes, who's to say humans don't do the same to ghouls?

It's a very Kaori-esque thought, and she has to close her eyes, sucking in another long breath through clenched teeth. Everything reminds her of the woman, and it's driving her up the wall. She needs to get out of her own for a while, just a few hours, but to do that, to deliberately forget about Kaori, no matter how small the break...

She can't. She can't do it.

"I can walk myself out, Amon-san, you don't have to--"

"It's Nomura-san's orders."

"...Right. If you say so. Thanks, then."

I'm going to find you, Kaori... Just wait a bit longer, please...