Authors Note:I do NOT own Tokyo Ghoul, all rights to the story and characters belong to the original author. With that being said, please enjoy my (hopefully not too long) first chapter to my very first fanfic. But first a summary: This story takes place way before the events of the first Tokyo ghoul manga, and is about Kaneki Ken's mothers life, her teen years, her first love, and her first child... Which it turns out was not Kaneki. Without further adou, chapter 1 :)
chapter 1
"Ami~!" My older sister yelled from the other room, her overly shrill and demanding voice reaching me all the way from down the hall, and through my closed door. I wonder what I had done wrong now. I laid down the shirt I was folding on the pile of laundry I still had to put away, and made my way to her room. It turns out her door was also closed. I gripped the knob in my hand and twisted it to the left, not surprised I struggled to turn it. The door was jammed, and wouldn't budge an inch. I sighed. Our house had been in the Kaneki family for generations, and being so old it was slowly falling apart no matter how many times you repaired it, a new problem was quick to pop up. Which was a shame because I loved this house, and had hoped to inherit it from mother and father when I was old enough, but that was only if it lasted until then. My expectations were too high I supposed, but that was not the fault of my parents, nothing last forever as the saying goes. I finally gave up jiggling with the handle, turned sideways to the door, and threw my shoulder against it. WHAM! The door flew open, and the force the I used sent it crashing into the wall, creating a sizable dent in the plaster. Uh oh. I flinched at the sound and the sight of the damage.
Startled by the noise, Hana sprung up from her chair, and her face went red with anger. "What did you do? There is a hole in my wall Ami!" She shrieked at me, waving her arms around, and pointing furiously at the dent. I repressed the urge to cower at her yells, and as calmly as I could manage, explained to her that the door was stuck, and that I would fix it first thing tomorrow. Hana seemed content with this, and sat back down in her chair, twisting it around to face her desk which was covered in papers.
She didn't speak for a little while, just sat there leafing through pages, and picking the end of an eraser off a pencil. so when I realized she was waiting for me to offer her help with something, I pulled the other chair up beside her.
"So, what did you need Hana?" I tentatively asked her, choosing my words extra carefully because I know that Hana doesn't like to ask anyone for anything. Especially her little sister. Hana huffed, and thrusted a mountain of notebooks and papers at me.
"Well, since your actually good at math, I need your help." She grumbled at me, twisting and fiddling with the eraser-less pencil in her hands. OK, something I CAN do. I took my glasses out of my shirt pocket, and positioned them on the bridge of my nose before straightening the worksheets on the desk, then leaning over them to read the problems. The familiar equations and numbers swam on the paper in front of me, bringing with them a strange comfort, even though the math I was looking at was a year ahead of me I understood everything on the sheet perfectly.
"What part did you need help with?" I questioned her, avoiding eye contact, and taking a pencil for myself out of the drawer.
"...All of it..." She grumbled again, this time with more irritation and embarrassment present in her voice, and sent an icy glare my way. Assuming I was planning on insulting her intellect. "What? Are you going to judge me? Just because your smarter, does not mean you are better than me. Freak." My grip on the pencil tightened considerably, yet I didn't retort anything back. I knew I couldn't entirely blame Hana for her cruel words. Its true I did get better marks than her in our studies, and that in doing so, our parents put extra pressure on her that she frankly could do without. Her words were simply a reflection of that pressure, and her pride as the older sibling. So I did not want to call her mean names and hurt her more, 'Its better to be the one being hurt, than the one doing the hurting.' The corners of my lips turned upwards at the familiar quote.
My grandmother used to say that to me when I was a child. She was an exceptionally kind woman that I treasured, and admired. She firmly believed that you should never ever hurt someone, and you should always be kind and generous. And I guess I have held onto her words, even after she passed on.
I met Hana's frosty expression with a smile, trying to clam her down. Not wishing to fight with my older sister.
"I was not judging you Hana, I was just asking for clarification on what you needed help with so we could get to work!" I shouted enthusiastically, raising my pencil comically into the air, and widened my small smile to a goofy grin.
She 'hmphd' at me, but put her pencil to the sheet, and pointed out what she did not understand. Between the two of us, we were able to finish all the work just before dinner time. I rose from the chair and stretched, my arms reaching far above my head, and a sigh of pleasure escaped my lips now that I could move my tight muscles freely. I was usually sore from my work at the hospital. My entailed that I lift heavy boxes of medical supplies often, which is not good for my back. But work is work, and I don't mind it much. Having nice staff is also a plus. After I finished my imitation of a starfish, I turned to my sister.
"So, do you think you understand now, Hana?"
"Yes, but next time I wont resort to begging my little sister for help."
"...We're only a year apart..." I began, but my mothers loud bellow from the kitchen cut me off.
"Ami..Hana..Dinner!" Me and Hana both raced down the stairs excitedly, we had been smelling the amazing aroma from downstairs while we had been working, and it was impossible to quiet our rumbling stomachs. We were having Dads favorite meal: rice with bean sprouts, dumplings, and strips of beef. A celebration dinner because dad had just gotten a promotion at work, he was now officially a first class investigator at CCG. It had taken him a little while to reach the rank because he had to take time off to raise a family, but we could tell he didn't mind at all. So we were in a spirited mood.
"I'm so proud of you dad" Hana exclaimed, beaming at our father with genuine sincerity. He smiled back at her, and replied with his 'thank you's' while holding moms hand and eating his dinner with the other.
Next it was my turn. "Congratulations on your accomplishments father, you deserve it." I said, raising my chopsticks covered in rice to my mouth, and took a bite.
My father smiled kindly at me, and reached over to lay his hand on mine. I could feel Hana's contempt in waves passing over me, I shivered slightly but father didn't notice.
"Thank you dear, but you need to learn not to be so formal with your family." He chastised me lightly, then took his hand off mine and resumed eating his dinner. The night passed quickly, and soon I was clearing the dessert plates off the table, and placing them in the sink to start the dishes.
I felt my mother sneak up behind me, and place her hand on my shoulder."Dear, you have studying to do, leave the dishes to your father and me." She said gleefully, hand already moving for the sponge. I beat her to it, and turned around to hug her. "Don't worry about it mother, I have already completed all my studies, and I would be glad to do this for you." I released her, and smiled encouragingly at her, deciding to take a chance.
"Mom, since Dad has worked so hard for his promotion, why don't you and dad go out and celebrate more? Maybe grab tea or something." I offered hopefully, maybe she would finally take me up on it... I couldn't have been more wrong.
While I had good intentions, and wished the best for my mother, I regretted even opening my mouth when I saw her lips tighten, and her skin pale in fear.
"Mom, I-" i began, but she waved me off with her hand.
"How could you be so insensitive? You know why i can't" She whispered, her hand which had been loosely holding mine, tightened considerably, and I felt the bones in my hand grind together painfully. But I took it without yelping because I had upset her.
"You know why I can't leave the house." She said, voice raising a bit, but at least she released my hand. I cradled it with my other, and massaged the agitated muscles and bones.
"Yes mother." I murmured, my head bowing slightly. "But I assumed...now that father has become a first class investigator, maybe you would feel safe enough to leave the house." I stammered out nervously, anticipating her response while my fingers twisted the fabric of my skirt. When I hadn't heard her say anything, I looked up in confusion. And that was when she slapped me. Hard.
I gasped harshly, and collapsed to the floor. Tears leaked from my eyes and my right cheek stung, I whimpered when I touched the wound, and was going to stand back up when my mother's cold words pushed me back down to the ground.
"Have you forgotten what happened Ami? How I was almost killed by that monster? Did you think the fear I felt would melt away just because of your father advancing through the ranks? If that's true, you aren't as smart as I thought you were." She spat, and now glared down at me, no trace of kindness or motherly affection left.
"Look at you, bawling over little slap and some words like a child. Your weaker than me, your father and your sister, and that weakness will be the death of you." She turned on her heel, and before she left for the stairs, she ordered: "as punishment for your attitude, you will finish up all the dishes and clean the entire kitchen." She left before I could reply, and I quietly sobbed into my hands. Wishing I could be anywhere else right now. Wishing I could be strong, or at least shout back at her like she did to me. To be the one calling names and not receiving them. I dug my finger nails into my palms, and reasoned with myself that mom didn't mean all that, she was just scared, and I had hurt her feelings.
..."its better to be the one being hurt, than the one doing the hurting... Its better to be the one being hurt, than the one doing the hurting." I reminded myself, repeating the phrase over and over like a mantra, and silently stood up from the cold floor.
Authors Note part 2: Thank you for reading! Hopfully it wasn't too bad, not too many spelling mistakes or not too long (hopefully, though I am not perfect) please feel free to leave comments or even message me if you want clarification, or have a question, spot a mistake, or just to lend an idea :D I love comments so don't hold back! Till next time
