#In fresh morning light i get on my knees not in a rush... lyrics lds full
The silent commute to work was as peaceful as always, the morning bus full of surly-looking men and women in CCG uniform. "Hey! You there, with the not-broken legs! Would you mind helping a guy pick up some of this junk? Bending my knees isn't exactly easy with a cast." Glancing around for just about any able idea, he spotted another investigator conveniently passing by and called out to him. "Damn it," he cursed with a sigh, "That's gonna be a pain in the ass."
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Unfortunately, there was such a thing as overacting, which Tokio was painfully reminded of as one particularly ungainly step caused the handle of his decrepit work briefcase to snap, sending papers scattering across the ground. That would just be a waste of everyone's (mostly his) time. No point in looking like he was in shape to do any real work. The gates to CCG headquarters loomed in sight, and Tokio was hobbling his way through, taking care to overexaggerate how much difficulty he was having. Maybe he'd take the time to speak to Asako about nothing in particular or find Eri and annoy her by existing. He could be punctual to the meeting, but that would be silly. Nothing like an official reprimand to start the day off right. He'd long ago given up on faking his "injured" arm, but his leg, which had actually been broken, wasn't so easily ignored.įor the millionth time, he'd forgotten his Quinque at the office, and the first order of business for the day was, apparently, being reprimanded for it. Having to commute on crutches certainly didn't help. Tokio wasn't sure if even a substantial dose of morning coffee would be enough to rouse him from the semi-zombified state he was currently in. Morning with work was practically immoral. "Wonder if I'll meet anyone new at work today." With a deep breath and a smile on his face, Ishitake started off in the direction of the CCG Headquarters. Morning in Ota, and everything was still the same. 45, just as it had been every day in the past year.
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With a skip in his step, he picked up his suitcase containing his trusty Quinque, pushed open the door and descended the winding staircase to the ground floor, counting every step as he went. Crossing his tiny apartment and entering the bathroom, he then brushed his teeth meticulously, gargled thoroughly to dispel his bed breath and adjusted his tie until it was perfectly in line.įlashing himself a bright smile and a jaunty wink in the mirror as he had done every day in the past year, Ishitake was once again ready to face another day of life in Ota.
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He gathered up his plate and utensils and washed up, pulling open the window to let the fresh morning air in. Licking his lips as he finished the last of his bacon and eggs, Ishitake leaned over across the table and pulled open the blinds, blinking a little at the bright sunlight outside. Ishitake's Apartment, 11th Ward (CCG-Controlled Safezone) October 17th, 0600 hours