Two things:

1. It should be noted that I made a few small exceptions to canon to make this story work. Nothing too big, but I didn't want to look like an idiot who just blatantly disregards canon facts with no explanation whatsoever.

2. This is going to be a two-shot. The second chapter is almost completely written, so be on the lookout!

And with that, enjoy!

You, Kaneki, and Hide had been friends since grade school. Granted, you had come into the picture a bit later—on the last year of it. You all grew up and went to Kamii University together; Kaneki and Hide had been lucky enough to get several classes together, while the only time you really got to see them was lunch.

You couldn't help but feel left out.

A while back, both you and Hide had noticed a change in Kaneki after a week-long absence from University: he hadn't been eating and looked pale and sickly, and had started to wear an eyepatch.

Hide seemed to know something you didn't.

You had thought of confronting him about it, but felt that you had been drifting apart from the two best friends. You didn't feel comfortable hounding Hide for personal information on Kaneki's life when you yourself were suffering from severe depression, anxiety, and type II Bipolar Disorder.

Then, one day, Kaneki disappeared altogether.

He had been gone for over six months, and in that time, you and Hide had grown even farther apart. He had gotten a job with the CCG and told you he was almost constantly busy. You thought that was strange, because as far as you knew, he was just an errand boy.

You convinced yourself that he was making excuses so he didn't have to hang out with you.

School became increasingly stressful, the work piling up because of your lack of energy and motivation to do it. You didn't see the point: why would you even bother when you weren't going to get anywhere in life, anyway? You had considered dropping out several times, but decided against it for reasons even you didn't know.

You missed classes more and more frequently and barely did any work, subconsciously hoping that you would just be kicked out of the University. You missed meals, too. You stopped eating breakfast and lunch, just nibbling on a little bit of whatever was around for dinner.

Your health was deteriorating quickly.

Your depression grew worse, and you had developed anxiety from all the schoolwork that sat on the desk in the corner of your apartment, mocking you. You hated yourself for it. Eventually, you couldn't be bothered to go to your classes at all. You hid the textbooks and overdue assignments underneath your desk. Hating yourself, you tried to be more comfortable with yourself by lowering your weight—eventually developing an eating disorder. As you continually starved yourself, you grew weaker from the lack of nutrition and ended up passing out in the middle of the sidewalk—ironically—on your way to the supermarket.

You were hospitalized in the psych ward when the doctor learned of your mental state.

You spent over two months there, not seeing the point in even trying to get better. You spat out your prescribed medication when you had the chance, deciding to just fake your way out. You started eating again, but only because you had to. You ate the bare minimum to please the doctors there.

You were released two months after you were admitted.

You stepped into your neglected apartment, tossing your pills in the trashcan when you stopped in the bathroom to weigh yourself—all the eating in the hospital couldn't have done you any good. The scale read 127 lbs. Your shoulders slumped in disappointment. At 5' 2", you were technically in the "healthy" weight range.

You saw it as the "fat" weight range.

You left the bathroom and made your way to the kitchen. The clock read 10:00 PM as you entered your small living room, slumping down on the couch and picking your cellphone up off the end table, pulling the charger out so you could check your messages more easily.

There were over 70 missed texts and calls combined. You decided to listen to the voicemails first:

About nine calls and three voicemails from Kamii University's Guidance Office, reassuring you that they would work with you and give you extensions and whatever else you needed, and wishes from them to you—"Get well soon!"

Delete.

Several voicemails from your insurance agency, informing you of bills and such.

Delete.

Several more from various friends and well-wishers. You didn't even bother listening to them.

Delete.

But then, one caught your attention:

"Hey, _! It's Hide! Sorry about, well, ignoring you these past few weeks. I've been really busy with work and school and all that, but that's not an excuse. I really do feel bad about that. Anyway, I heard about your hospitalization, and I just wanted to wish you a speedy recovery. I hope you get out soon. Rabbits die of loneliness, you know!

Your eyes were wide with surprise. You listened to the next message.

"_! You'll never believe this! Kaneki's back! He dropped by my apartment, and we talked for a bit and he asked about you. I explained your situation to him—I hope you don't mind. He was very understanding, though! Get out soon, man! He's—We're really excited to see you again!"

You almost dropped your phone, but held on to it to listen to the next one… from Kaneki.

"_. I saw you leaving the hospital. Is it okay if I come over? I want to talk. It'd be just me. Hide's passed out in his apartment from staying up all night watching his stupid horror movies. I'll talk to you soon, I hope."

And that was the last voicemail.

He sounded… different. If you didn't know him so well, his voice probably would have sounded completely monotone. You could hear the humor in his voice when he called Hide's cheap horror movies "stupid", though. It sounded like they had been having fun, though you couldn't help but note that it had been without you. Why am I so selfish? you thought. They're allowed to have fun without me. After all, I'm so depressed, I might as well be a corpse…

You sat there and thought about what to do. You were still so depressed and so anxious and you just absolutely despised yourself. You were convinced that both Hide and Kaneki only "wanted" to hang out because they felt bad that you had been in the hospital for two months. You knew that they were only offering to hang out because they felt obligated to.

What are friends for? you thought sarcastically.

You decided that you couldn't face Kaneki—not yet. That you couldn't face Hide. That you couldn't continue with school or go on to get a job or do anything.

You walked to your bedroom and took out your single-edged razor blade from your nightstand, sighing deeply. You gazed at it with a sense of nostalgia. It had been so long since you used it.

You decided to indulge yourself for a bit. You had yet to call or text Kaneki back, so he wouldn't be showing up any time soon.

Not having the energy to walk all the way up to your front door to lock it, you just locked your bedroom door, just in case.

You sat down and stared at your old scars, contemplating where to put the new ones. You decided on your forearm; the scars there were almost completely faded. You angled the blade so the corner was to your skin, with the sharp part facing away from your arm—you had always hated the slicing feeling, preferring a more jagged, tearing one.

You took a deep breath in, then exhaled, dragging the corner of the blade across your skin, relishing the pain and the temporary relief from your depression it brought. You did this several more times on each arm, the blood slowly making its way down your forearm, to your wrist, to your hand. You grabbed several tissues from the box you kept on your nightstand and blotted up the dripping red liquid.

As you did, the lifted depression came crashing back down, and you choked back a sob. That was when you heard it: the knock on your door.

"_?" Kaneki called, knocking again.

Maybe if I just don't answer it, he'll go away, you thought.

You pulled the hood of your sweatshirt up over your head and brought your knees to your chest, moving so your back was against the headboard. You didn't bother rolling down your sleeves or cleaning up the bloody tissues. It's not like he'll just barge in.

He knocked again.

"I know you're in there. Your car is parked outside."

Shit… you thought. No, no. It's fine. Just keep quiet, and he'll go away.

"The door's unlocked. I'm coming in, _."

You heard the door open and shut, then his footsteps as he walked in, calling your name. To your dismay, he headed straight for the bedroom.

It's okay, it's okay, the door's locked, he can't get in, it's okay.

Heart pounding, you buried your head in your knees, tightening your arms around your legs, and trying your best to hold back more sobs. You failed.

Kaneki knocked on the bedroom door.

"_? Are you okay?"

The fact that he had heard you only made you cry harder. Tears flowed freely down your cheeks now; you didn't bother trying to not make any noise. In the back of your mind, it vaguely registered that you were still holding your blood-stained blade, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"_?! Let me in. I-"

"Go AWAY!" you screeched. You couldn't help it. Kaneki was the last person you wanted to see. He disappears for fucking months, and then thinks he has the right to just show up at my doorstep?!

"Let me in, now, _. I need to make sure you're okay."

"Does it sound like I'm okay?! You disappeared for how many goddamn months, and now you think you have the right to just show up here? What the fuck, Kaneki?!"

"That was beyond my control. Now let me in."

There was no way that this was the actual Kaneki. Sure, he had Kaneki's voice, but Kaneki had more feeling in his tone. Plus, Kaneki would never just walk in to your house and he would never sound so damn threatening. There was no way you were letting him in.

You could hear "Kaneki" sigh on the other side of the door.

"You leave me no choice, _. Don't worry, though: I'll pay for the door."

Wh-

You screamed and brought your arms up to protect your face as the door was kicked in. You peaked out from behind your arms, and saw a man who just couldn't be Kaneki. If it was, then his appearance was drastically different. He wore a black t-shirt with a hoodie and jeans of the same color. His hair was white, his nails were black, and he just didn't feel like Kaneki, even though he wore Kaneki's eyepatch.

You did not want him in your room.

He surveyed the room briefly, his expression morphing into shock when he saw the bloodstained tissues and the blade you were holding. That quickly morphed into rage—rage that you assumed was directed at you for doing this to yourself.

He started to walk towards you; his nose was buried in the crook of his elbow for some reason; it looked like he was trying to block out a smell. You didn't care. You released your legs and scrambled to the other side of the bed. You held the sharp end of the blade vertically against your wrist, threatening yourself in an attempt to make him go away.

"Don't come any closer! I swear to fucking god, I'll-"

He didn't go away. Your actions had the opposite effect: he moved even faster. In the blink of an eye—quite literally—the blade was out of your hand. He grabbed your wrist. You didn't care why, you just didn't want him touching you. You lashed out with your other arm, your eyes squeezed shut. You unintentionally ripped the eyepatch off of his face. You didn't care about that either. You tried to push him away, but he caught your arm in his other hand. You struggled, but he held your wrists with inhuman strength.

You tried to kick, but you found that he had straddled your legs, effectively pinning you down. He kept telling you to calm down and kept reassuring you that he wouldn't hurt you, that he just didn't want you to hurt yourself anymore. You knew then that this was the actual Kaneki.

You opened your eyes, though you were fearful of his angry expression from before. You weren't expecting what you saw.

You froze, resisting the urge to scream.

Kaneki's left eye was that of a Ghoul's—a deep black sclera and pupil with a hellish red iris and veins that extended from the pupil all the way to the area of his face around the outside of the eye.

He saw that you had seen, and looked away in shame. He didn't want you to find out like this. You found the nerve to speak.

"K-Kaneki?"

He looked back at you with a weak smile, slowly letting go of your hands and getting off of your legs; you felt like that eye was staring straight into your soul.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this, _." he said, getting up to retrieve his eyepatch from the floor and putting it on. "Hide already knew, and I was planning on telling you, but I hoped it would be… under better circumstances. I'm a half-Ghoul."

So that's why he was covering his nose: the smell of the blood…

You had an idea. A stupid one that you knew wouldn't work, but an idea nonetheless.

"Kill me," you said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry?" he replied, turning and looking at you with his human eye like you had just grown a second head.

"You heard me, Ken. Kill me."

"I'm not going to kill you! Why would you even say that?"

"I bet you're already a murderer, so what's one more on the pile? I'm half dead anyway; I think about suicide almost every day. Look at me, Kaneki! I'm a fucking mess!" you shouted. "Do you know why I was admitted to the hospital? I passed out on the fucking street because I hadn't been eating because I'm so damn depressed and hate myself so much that I starved myself! I hate myself, school is stressing me out like nothing else, and I don't have anyone to lean on. You and Hide pretty much abandoned me. I don't know where the hell you went, but Hide just claimed he was busy! Do you have any idea how alone I've felt?! And I know your real reason for coming here: you—both of you—are just sorry for me because I've been in a fucking mental ward for the past two months! You two were the only friends I've ever had, and now you just feel obligated to be anywhere fucking near me because I'm insane! So just. fucking. KILL ME!"

You were sobbing now, and Kaneki's heart was breaking. He had had no idea how badly you had been hurting. Your shoulders heaved with each sob as you brought your knees up to your chest again and turned away from him. He remained silent as he walked over and sat down beside you on the bed.

You wanted to leave—to just get off of your bed and walk away. You knew he wouldn't kill you, so you wanted to do it yourself. He wouldn't let you do that either, once he found out what you were planning.

Kaneki wrapped his arms around you in a hug, pulling you close. You tried to struggle, but crying so hard had sapped most of your energy, and the half-Ghoul was just too strong. You gave up, but you still refused to lean against him. He spoke softly.

"_, I am so, so sorry that you're going through all of this. And I'm sorry that I wasn't there to help you—the circumstances surrounding my disappearance really were out of my control. Hide was actually busy, too: he was trying to track me down and figure out what was going on, and he told me how badly he feels that he wasn't there for you, either. But I promise you that we'll all stick together, now. We'll all be there to help you, and to help each other," he said. He let out a dry laugh. "And, just for the record, I'm not exactly sane, myself. Some stuff happened to me while I was gone that I'd rather not go into. As a result, I know the feeling of depression. Of it just crushing you and you feeling that there's no escape, that you'll never get ou- get better."

You were silent for a second, processing what he had just told you.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I have no right to act like this or feel this way. I'm just being selfish and-"

"No, you're not. You have every right to feel like this. You have every right to express your anger and sadness, but, can you do me a favor, _?"

"Depends on what it is…" you said cautiously.

"Please try not to hurt yourself anymore. I know that it can be hard to stop self-harming once you start, but I just want you to be safe. Neither Hide nor I could live with ourselves if something happened to you. So, can you do that for me? All I ask is that you try. And I really do know how hard it can be," Kaneki said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his wrist and forearm. Your eyes widened as you saw the old scars that crisscrossed his pale skin.

"…Okay…" you said half-heartedly.

He gave a small smile.

"Thank you, _."

You yawned, and Kaneki realized just how tired you must be. He pulled back the covers and eased you into a lying position, covering you with the blankets.

You fell asleep to the sound of Kaneki throwing away the bloody tissues and the clink of your blade hitting the nightstand.