[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190507/05d5cc7c91d5f666f9866c1adc605352.png[/img]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/ZZNRnUw.jpg[/img]

~ In his home ~[/center]
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Standing with jaw agape and many bags of groceries in his hands was Shirogane Kuuro, who had just witnessed the news report about a murder that took place in District 11. His surprise and confusion had temporarily overtaken him for he was appalled that such a travesty could happen. A murder was one thing, but to mutilate the victim was an entire different beast. Only a monster could do so. 

[color=brown]"Damn... that's messed up!"[/color] Kuuro felt sickened that there were people like that out there. But more than that, he was upset that such an injustice had happened and he was not able to prevent it. Despite being merely a member of Judgement, any horrific crime happening always made Shirogane feel like he could have done so much more than he did. 

Yet standing there forever was going to get him nowhere. He could act surprised and upset all he wanted but it would change absolutely nothing. If anybody knew this, it was him. His entire character was shaped by an event of cruelty that wove his story even today. That is why people who were evil made him sick, because he knew exactly how it felt to be their victim. So there was merely one thing that rivaled his contempt for evil-doers, and, quite honestly, was people who did not put effort into their existence. People who neglected their privilege to truly live and experience all of life's joys. People who were lazy, good-for-nothings. 

People like the woman he currently sheltered. 

[color=brown]"Nero, come help me put this stuff away!"[/color] he called out as he finally set the groceries upon his kitchen table with less care than he intended. His arms ached from carrying them all the way home, but that was his fault, really. Purchasing so much things at one time and not having a means of getting it home besides carrying it could be chalked up as nothing but a foolish endeavor on his behalf. He persevered, however, and did so anyways. Speeding past your natural limits was the only way he would achieve his lifelong goal of becoming a Level 5 Esper, and so he did that any time the chance presented itself. 

[color=brown][i]Yeah, there's really no way that helped me at all![/i][/color]

Kuuro comically hit his forehead with his palm, ashamed of how stupid that excuse was.

He was a somewhat stubborn man who refused to make multiple trips to the store or to ask for help. It certainly wasn't his defining character trait, but he owned a mild hero complex and a pride with it that prevented him from being on the receiving end of a helping hand, if he could avoid it. 

Someone might ask, "If he doesn't ever ask for help, then why did he call Nero over, then?" and the interesting answer to that question would be:

Because spending time with this woman had caused Kuuro to develop a bit of passive aggressiveness. Knowing the woman's nature, he said this precisely [i]because[/i] she would not listen and help. She was like a leech, sucking away at his wallet and will to live, one selfish day at a time. She frustrated and annoyed him. Pestered and corrupted him. She was anything but a good influence on his character, and a smarter man would have cut her loose long ago. 

But throwing a helpless woman like her on the street would be an honest man's shame. He was convinced that if he did that, she'd have to resort to criminal activity, or she'd simply die. Neither conclusion would be ideal. 

So if that meant that he would have to suffer chip damage to his faith in humanity, then so be it. Even if their rather lewd introduction and her admittedly immoral choice of clothing dealt blows to his purity, then fine. He could take all of that. The only lasting damage was those hits to his monthly stipend, which were entirely meant for only a single person to live off of. He had yet to tell his uncle about the bum living with him, but that was obviously for the better. 

[color=brown]"...so what do you want to eat tonight? I went shopping before coming home and got a lot of stuff."[/color] he asked, moving towards the refrigerator to put away the perishables. He pushed the fact he sounded like a whipped househusband to the back of his mind as he did so. There was a more important matter to settle, anyways.

As he opened the door and gazed inside, his eyes shot open even wider than earlier. He saw something that shocked him to his very core. A grotesque murder could not compare to the horrible truth that revealed itself to him: 

The space where he kept the milk was empty, and there was only one person bedsides himself who could've been the culprit.