KANEKI
He coughed up blood and sludge, panting as air filled his lungs again. Tears and festering water mixed with mould clung to his face. His eyes shot open, and a dim flicker of light illuminated his surroundings: stark concrete walls, curved into almost perfect cylinders. Where am I? How'd I get here? Glancing around, Kaneki deduced he'd retreated to the underground 24th Ward. I forgot how much it reeks down here... He shakily found the strength to stand. As he rose to his feet, a sharp pain jabbed at his side. And what was worse, the voices in his head wouldn't shut up. He feared, as he had many times before, the voices never would stop. Because of them, he'd always have company, but still be so alone at the same time. If this wasn't Hell, he wasn't sure how different the real thing could be from this. So many people seemed worse off because of him. He'd caused a lot of trouble in Tokyo for being one person. But where in Tokyo am I? What's above me? More importantly, how did I get down here?
A thought flashed through Kaneki's mind. Koutarou, that CCG investigator, standing across from him in the street, quinque ready. Kaneki didn't want to fight. So, he didn't. He turned away from that battle. The Dove made the first move anyway. What did I do then? The next moment stood in his mind as a blur. Did the Dove die? He hoped not. He'd already had to kill enough tonight. He'd hate to add that investigator to the count too.
I need to get somewhere safe, he commanded himself. He had a feeling Mr Yoshimura was dead. Anyone else from Anteiku was likely dead as well, or far away from here. Anteiku was probably destroyed in the raid - no way they'd leave it behind. Knocking on CCG's front door would be utter suicide. Hide was likely gone; Kaneki's own mother might've never even been who he thought she was. He was alone. He had nobody. Maybe nobody would take him in. Furthermore, maybe nobody would be able to finally help him fix himself. Truly alone, forever.
No, he couldn't accept that. He needed to hang on. He didn't want to be alone. Selfish bastard, he scolded himself. But is it really so bad to be selfish right now? It helps me go on, doesn't it? I want to help others. But to do that, I need to help myself first. I can't give up yet. I can't let myself down. I can't let the others down.
Kaneki steeled himself. He did want to help the people he cared about, whether that was for his own gain or for them wasn't important. He needed to keep fighting. He needed to keep getting stronger. He needed to save himself. He needed to make sure the manager didn't die in vain. And he would.
"Touka and Hinami will never forgive me. If they're even still alive." They would sooner turn themselves in to the CCG than welcome him back into their lives. He still had to see if they were safe at least, if he ever saw them again. He would let them choose what to do with him from there.
Standing from the murky water beneath him, Kaneki began to search for a way out into above-ground Tokyo. He needed to see Anteiku for himself.
Even before seeing the coffee shop he could tell it was gone. A thick smell of smoke filled the winter air. From around the corner, the amber glow of flames gave the final answer to his question. /It's gone./ He prepared himself for the worst. As the building came into view, he knew what he was looking at but couldn't comprehend it. The building had caved in and was now no more than a smouldering mess. No surprise, the CCG had purged everything to do with the 20th Ward ghouls. They never did any harm, but that didn't matter to them. The ruined building used to mean safety, a haven for any ghoul in danger. Now it was nothing. No more casual talks over coffee, that was for sure. In front of the derelict building knelt a darkened, slender figure, trembling and sobbing.
Touka.
Kaneki carefully approached her from behind, not daring to touch her. She didn't move. She was as still as a corpse, save her trembling. Kaneki stood mere feet behind her, for long enough she had to know he was there. She still said nothing. Kaneki took another step and Touka flinched. He stopped in his tracks. The girl croaked, "You just had to leave, didn't you?"
"Touka… I'm sorry," Kaneki replied in the way he always knew how.
"You're damn right! You've gotta be pretty stupid to come back just in time to watch everything burn. Do you even care it's gone?" She stood and turned to face Kaneki. She stared into his soul. Kaneki had become jaded over the last few months, but her stare still felt too piercing to be comfortable. He stared right back. "What are you doing here?" Touka continued.
"Guess you could say I'm paying my respects. And, if I can, I came to comfort a friend."
Touka's face wrinkled in a mix of anger and misery. She tried to speak, but only squeaks and croaks escaped her mouth. She angrily cleared her throat. "If you think we're friends after everything you've done…" Touka clenched a fist, likely wanting nothing more than to punch Kaneki hard in the jaw.
The half ghoul shook his head. "I'm not looking for a lecture, Touka. Just to talk. I know I've been terrible lately, but I needed to figure some things out."
Touka shouted out in defiance. "Shut up already! Don't talk to me about 'figuring things out'! You left us. Right when we needed you! This is your fault!" She threw her punch, closing the gap between them in one second. Her punch met Kaneki's hand, who stepped back to brace the force. He closed his hand tight around her fist. She growled and motioned to bring her knee into his gut, but was in no condition to fight anymore. She fell forward into Kaneki's chest out of pure exhaustion, both mental and physical. Kaneki held her up and placed his free hand on the back of Touka's head.
Touka didn't object anymore. She began to sob into his tattered shirt. "It's gone… it's all gone."
He wanted to say something to make her feel better, take the pain away, but no words came. He stood speechless for a moment. "I know," he whispered simply. There was nothing else to say. Touka continued to sob, and Kaneki continued to run his hand over her hair. Soon, her crying slowed and she fell into a light sleep. Kaneki's lips curled into a half smile, surprised she dozed off so fast. "Touka? You alright?" When the girl gave no reply, he slid an arm under her legs and cautiously picked her up. "I'll take you home."
This moment in history felt like an end to conflict for some. Those who knew better planned for the next crisis. Nobody, however, comprehended what would come next. Not completely. Tokyo, perhaps all of Japan or even the world, would get torn apart at the seams.
Getting Touka home proved more difficult than he anticipated. The whole eastern end of Tokyo had been locked down in the raid, and he had to make winding paths to keep away from the CCG. Another hour later, he finally made it to her apartment. He tiptoed up the front steps and noticed an intercom and number pad before the front door. Autolocked, of course. He huffed his dissatisfaction and set Touka on the ground. He shook her arm lightly in an effort to wake her up. "Touka," he whispered. "C'mon, get up. I need your door code!" Touka didn't so much as stir. Kaneki grunted in frustration. Of all things to happen after losing my home...
If he wanted to get her inside, he'd have to jump up to the sixth floor. Hoisting Touka onto his shoulder, he circled the building to the back balconies. Crouching and counting the floors, he leapt with the agility only a ghoul could have. The air whipped past his face as he reached his arc. The extra weight he carried threw off his balance, but he still made it to Touka's balcony with little trouble. He landed with a smack of damp shoes, and once again set Touka on the ground. He tried the balcony door, and it slid open. Finally, something goes my way. One last time, he picked up the girl before stepping into her apartment. Though nearly pitch dark, he picked out her small bed just to his left. He set her down carefully and pulled a thin blanket over her. He knew it would do very little, she was drenched through her clothes. Not much I can do about that, he thought. In that case, I guess I don't have anything else to do here. Kaneki stepped back out onto the balcony with a light sigh. "I'm sorry," he whispered - to Touka, to Hinami, wherever she was, to Mr. Yoshimura, to Hide, to himself. He'd done so much damage. He worried if he could ever repair it all.
AMON
The investigator jerked awake. He immediately regretted doing so, as a burning pain shot through his torso. He grit his teeth and looked around the white-walled room he now sat in. Or rather not a room, an ambulance. Outside the back windows, the Tokyo streets sat covered with a thin sheet of snow, painted red by the ambulance's lights. Glancing down at his body, it had been wrapped in bandages. They had stained through with blood. How did this happen? He asked himself. He couldn't recall anything from earlier that night.
"This is Kishou. He's awake." A powerful voice took his attention. He turned his head to the side and did his best to ignore the pain from doing so. To Amon's left sat the CCG's most skilled investigator: Arima Kishou. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Koutarou."
"Special Class Arima? What's going on?"
"You were badly injured in a fight with the Centipede. I'd say you're lucky you survived. We're taking you back to the CCG's medical facility as we speak." His face, as usual, was impossible to read. He continued. "You'll be glad to know Akira Mado is safe. She's already contacted me a number of times to check on you."
Akira... It warmed his heart to know she was alive. When he finished recovery, he would do something special for her. He didn't know what, but something told him he'd have some time to figure it out. "Thank you for telling me, sir."
The ambulance leaned to the side, and out the back window, Amon could see the vehicle driving onto a highway. "How far are we from the hospital?"
"Not long now," Arima confirmed. "Only another fifteen minutes, if the snow doesn't complicate things."
Amon rested back into his gurney. Though searing pain shot through his abdomen, he worked to tune it out. As he tried to relax, a question gnawed at his mind. "Sir," he began, "What happened to the Centipede?"
Arima turned his head away from Amon, to stare out the back window. "Reports say he fled underground. Nobody saw for sure. We sent teams down into the underground to look for him, with no success. Officially, he's missing. Some people say he's dead. I guarantee he's out there somewhere. And when we find him..."
The ambulance came to a sudden halt. "What in the..." Arima stepped out of the ambulance, rounding to the front. From inside, Amon heard him talk to the driver. "Why did you stop?"
"Sir," the driver said. "Look." Look? At what? Amon groaned. Of all the times to not be able to see.
A span of silence fell over the winter environment. Arima returned to the back of the ambulance and grabbed his briefcase from the floor. "A group of ghouls is blocking the road ahead. I'll clear them out." stepping outside again, Arima pressed the button on his briefcase handle, releasing his legendary quinque. "Driver," he said, "I'll try to get them out of the way. If you see an opening, take it."
"Y-yes, sir!" The driver stuttered. He or Arima shut the driver door, and things became silent. Any noise from the fight which undoubtedly ensued became muffled by the snowfall. Amon felt a chill on his legs, the night air cooling the cab. He sat waiting for Arima's return, or for the driver to move ahead. Neither happened for minutes. He lay motionless, exposed directly to the cold air and the darkness of outside. All lay quiet. Still a bit of copper taste in his mouth, likely from his own blood, Amon swallowed. The taste remained. He lay in wait for whatever would come next.
Something slammed into the side of the ambulance. The vehicle tipped to its side. Amon flipped out of the gurney, onto his face. He cursed as he struggled to his knees. Turning around, nothing was there. The other wall of the vehicle sat deformed and bowed inward. No sound came from the drivers. "Special Class Arima!" he called out. "What happened?"
No response came. He crawled forward to investigate. Inching toward the opening, battling the burning in his stomach, he peered outside. Still nothing. The air filled with a pungent odour of spilt rubbing alcohol. Something must have broken open. Still, no sign of the attacker. "Arima-Joutou?"
A glow of purple shone through the snowy air. It grew larger each second, approaching the ambulance. Amon climbed out. He fought against the agony in his legs. The glow intensified. It closed in at an alarming speed. Amon manoeuvred to round the overturned car. He circled to the right side. Arima still fought in the distance, but he looked like he was trying to get back to the ambulance. Amon waved for him. "Something's coming!" He shouted. "I've got nothing to fight with!" Arima probably couldn't hear him. The distant investigator sprinted for the ambulance. Amon turned back around to check for the purple glow.
It had disappeared. The glow was gone. What? He turned back around. Where is it?
A thick purple kagune wrapped around Amon's legs. He toppled to the ground, landing on his wrists. Before he could even protest, the kagune threw him into the air, off the highway overpass and tumbling for the streets below. He tried to stabilize himself. The street below rushed towards him. The investigator threw his arms in front of his face. Before he slammed into the ground, the kagune snatched him up again and whipped him back toward the ghoul it sprouted from. He kept back vomit and blood from pouring out his mouth as he got pulled in toward his opponent. In the dim light of the overhead street lamps, he saw the ghoul which held him. Their face stark white, the eyes stared blankly ahead, seemingly through Amon. The crippled investigator shuddered but swallowed his anxiety. The ghoul grinned. He raised an arm forward, the taking hold of Amon's throat. The ghoul squeezed hard. Amon choked, his eyes bulging. He fought to keep conscious. The ghoul squeezed harder. Amon heard Arima's voice faintly to his rear. He clawed at the ghoul's meaty arm. /Let go,/ he wanted to say. Only a choked squeak escaped his mouth. His vision blurred. The ghoul's head turned to Amon's left. Arima was likely - hopefully - close. Before the special class could reach him, Amon blacked out.
?
"This is my favourite game. And it's finally time to begin."
((Welcome to the new, improved, and totally revised, Reconciliation - now called Tokyo Ghoul re:Concile. After completing a 2-year volunteer mission to Japan for my church, I've come back renewed with a fresh outlook on Japan, its people, a knowledge of the language based on experience, and this time an actual set out plot! I plan to release more often and more regularly starting now. And to kick things off, I'm coming out with all twelve original chapters completely revisited and touched up with love. I hope you enjoy! Also, if you're a fan of Mistborn, I now have a Mistborn fanfiction posted which I wrote in collaboration with another wonderful friend of mine. In any case, thanks to any old readers for coming back, and thanks to you new readers for showing up to the party at its best point!))