Prompt: best friends and capsule letters
dearest kaneki, – hide starts. it's dark, the moon overhead and his sloppy handwriting makes the words messy and his strokes indecipherable. he stops after writing down the salutation, rereading it and finding that it does not exactly fit the correct tone he wants to send across. so he crosses it out.
kaneki, – straight to the point. nodding, he finds this much better. feels like it's him sending this letter and not the monstrosity that he already is. shaking his head, hide tries not to remember that it was his best friend that did it to him, subconsciously scratching at his scarred and veiny remains of his throat.
he can't talk anymore, his clawed windpipe a testament to that. that's why he writes, he writes and writes until his wrists ache and his fingers tremble uncontrollably under the pressure. he can't and won't be able to speak and he misses it. writing was never his thing. it has always been kaneki's. the use of flowery words and multiple applications of figures of speech, imagery and whatnot. it's not hide's thing. he likes talking better. straight to the point, none of that beating around the bush bullshit.
I missed you, you idiot – he continues. unlike his best friend, he knows how to express himself and so he continues writing about anything in particular. how he's doing – I'm doing fine (a lie) although my throat still hurts. guess which nerd did it huh? –
hide looks around in his surroundings, checking if anyone is there to compromise his location and expose his secret. that he knows the one-eyed king. finding none, he stares back at the crumpled paper perched on his lap. – you won't recognize me when the time comes. you might think I'm already dead. – at the last word, he pauses. It's selfish of him, he knows, to pretend he is dead but there's no other way for him to save him if hide does not choose this path. – but fear not, I'm still alive and well. –
I have a lot to tell you. – he does, but deep down he knows there is not enough time. – there's no time for empty promises but I just want to tell you that I'm sorry. – a genuine apology he owed him. owed him for not being able to notice the signs any sooner. an apology for not being the best friend kaneki deserved. and so he writes, he writes and writes his regrets on the matter. for all the should-have-done he didn't do. for not being the person kaneki oh so desired to rely on when in trouble. there's a lot of things hide regrets he didn't do and said – I love you – but he crosses those out from the paper.
they serve no purpose.
sighing, he rewrites them in another sheet of paper he saved and after proofreading several times, hide nods his head approvingly and folds the finalized letter to stash in his pocket. this letter won't ever see the light of day, especially kaneki.
