For months, Amon dwelt in hell. Though defiance was punished time and again, he didn't stop displaying it. As much as it hurt, there was a sense of satisfaction in not giving in, a sense of atonement in enduring everything they dealt him, and he held onto those feelings like a drowning man to his lifeline.
And when he felt particularly lonely, he allowed his thoughts to flit back to the halcyon days of being an investigator and the time spent in the 20th Ward office. Though he tried to keep them vivid in his mind, they were starting to become blurry, day by day. How long ago had all of it been…?
However, there were some things he could never forget even with time—an unbridled laugh, a slight smile, the sparkle of violet eyes, those rare moments he had immediately burnt into his mind.
He wondered how she was. He remembered that moment in the graveyard when he had placed a barrier between them, his hand on her mouth, and felt both regret and relief. It weighed on him, that he hadn't let her know her feelings were reciprocated, but since he was going to die… it was for the best that she was unaware.
It was easier to think like that and accept that his life would soon come to an end when he was restrained by Aogiri. But when Nagachika rescued him, knocking out the ghouls guarding him, Amon felt the crushing weight of his new freedom.
The first place he visited was the graveyard. Never having expected to survive, now that he did, he loathed himself. He had become the antithesis of everything he had been fighting for, the enemy of those that he cherished.
He went empty-handed in the evening hours, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head and darting in between shadows and trees. But when he got close enough, he froze.
"I've finally managed to repair your quinque. You went and broke it pretty badly this time."
The soft familiar voice cut through the silence, infused with an uncharacteristic melancholy that tugged at Amon. The urge to step forward was overwhelming but he forced his feet to remain rooted in place, turning still as a statue.
Melding with the darkness around him, he watched the person intently. Akira lingered for only a minute more before getting up from her kneeling position, brushing the dirt and grass off her clothes.
When she left, he made his way to the grave in front of which she had been and bent down to see the engraving.
His name, in dark elegant lettering.
At the foot of the stone was a bouquet of red and white chrysanthemums. He touched the soft petals and let out a breath. To the rest of the world, he was dead and gone. As much as he wanted to speak with Akira again, it was impossible.
Only a ghost of Amon remained, and Akira had no need for ghosts.
We have no clue when Hide saved Amon from Aogiri, but considering he refused to eat any food, I don't think Aogiri would have kept him around for long. And there's a two-year gap between the first series and :re, so I think it's plausible Amon escaped in that time. So I went with that.
