Title: Morituri te Salutant
Author: Ri-Ryn
Genre: Angst/Tragedy
Word Count: 735
Rating: M* (Content suitable for Mature Teens) / +T
Disclaimer: Tokyo Ghoul (Root A) belongs to Sui Ishida. Shougo Makishima quote belongs to Gen Urobuchi.
Summary: "When rabbits get lonely, they can die!" Ah, and so they can.
Warnings: Spoilers for Tokyo Ghoul: Root A, Suicide, Death, depression/self-loathing, language, disturbing imagery.
A/N: 'What even is life?' is all I got from the last episode. Three minutes of drowning in my own tears.
Music: "The Wheel Of Fortune-Fortune" by: Shikata Akiko
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Ken walked, void of anything but the dull, cold weight in his arms. Unmoving, gray, stiff, an abomination when compared to his best friend's previous radiance.
His fault; it was always his fault, wasn't it? His own mother, Hinami's mother, Yoshimura-san, Amon, and now… Hide: Hideyoshi Nagachika, best friend, sole real friend, his last humanity, his everything, his life.
He was a dead man walking, no small wonder why the CCG agents teaming and tending to the wounded and deceased stared. When was the last time he'd walked, impassive to the animosity and disgust of others?
Any and every time, Hide had been by his side. Even in death, his protective embrace failed to falter.
Why? To live was to eat, to consume. He consumed everything in his wake, so why was Hide home, in a home far-far away from himself? Did he not eat enough, or did Hide get caught in the crossfire…?
Ken smiled bitterly; giving a tender smile to his friend's resting face, his Kakugan throbbing absently in the back of his conscience. Hide's mouth was gently parted, his eyes relaxed even with the dark bruises marring the undersides of his eyes. Whether it from sleep deprivation or blood loss, he didn't know, but when was the last time Hide had felt so at ease, resting so faintly?
Ken still didn't know.
What he did know was that everything, all of it, all of this resting tranquility was his, solely his, fault.
Ken leaned forward, brushing his lips to the chilled forehead of the young man he bared as the epitome of his sins.
Such sorrow, so guilty, some protector…
…a fascinating failure- truly.
There was a man in front of his penance, white hair, gray coat, quinque in waiting.
Arima Kishou.
Ken lovingly deposited Hide into the swaddling snow, cradling the corpse in his absence. He stepped forward, closer to the investigator, stopping a mere foot away. White hair, gray eyes. Ken couldn't keep the bitterness off his face, at what? He still didn't know, the fool that he was.
I am Kaneki Ken.
"'When a man faces fear, his soul is tested. What he was born to seek... what he was born to achieve... his true nature will become clear.'" Ken cleared his throat, empty.
I am a ghoul.
"I am vile." And as such, "Please, take him home. Take him further away, as far as possible from this mad world." Further than death.
Arima gazed at this disturbed, somber creature, tenacious and enervated enough to make a reaper's acquaintance.
One nod and this 'vile' creature smiled as if the Heavens were upon him. "Thank-you," it breathed, turning away.
The half breed listlessly made his way back to the resting remains, crouching, touching his hand to an icy cheek. "Hide?" Ken's kagune sprouted from his back, swathing the two. The CCG officers stiffened, questioning what could possibly be holding the investigator from attacking the ghoul, ready to kill.
"Tadaima."
He aimed the first one through his stomach, feeling the acid break away in havoc into his abdominal cavity, eating away himself from the inside- it was first for the hunger, the trouble it caused. Blood and bile bubbled from the puncture wound, and in succession he stabbed again for what it was worth. Another tendril crept to his legs, cutting them cleanly. He wouldn't need them, wouldn't run, and this abominable hunger meant they wouldn't be back. The third cleared his back and lungs both, shortening his breath and gracing him with an airy blood mist from his nose, breathed into the cold wintery air as his lungs too filled with his own blood, asphyxiating his existence.
Ken curled around Hide in the claret snow, so close one began where the other ended, his face buried into blonde hair and selfishly dredging comfort from the evanescent redolence.
The last kagune remaining drew itself higher into gray, snowing sky, glistening in the spot lights and to the horror of the agents witnessing this valid chastening. It struck like rainiing fire and acid into Sodom and Gomorrah, carving and severing his spinal cord near the base of his neck, like anesthesia, like medicine.
A black haze blanketed the Hell around him, and Ken drifted off with Hide secure in his arms.
"Okaeri, Ken!
When rabbits get lonely, they can die you know!"
Ken smiled.
"Ah, so they do, Hide."
So we do.