Disclaimer: I don't own Tokyo Ghoul or any characters mentioned in this story.

Author's notes: This fic was written based off the manga, so if you haven't read it yet, expect some TouKen moments that were cut from the anime. Enjoy! :-) EDIT: Again, this is a manga-based fanfic. Kaneki and Touka (even Ayato) may seem OoC, but let me remind you guys (the anime-only fans in particular) that the way Sui Ishida portrayed these two characters in the manga (which is a masterpiece with heavy TouKen implications) is very different than the Studio Pierrot adaptation (which nearly ruined the franchise thanks to the glob of mess entitled Root A). So please, go read the manga from chapter 1. It's really worth it!


i.

"…People are fearing the possibility of an 'eater' attacking the city of Tokyo. But what exactly do they look like? Joining us today is Dr. Ogura, a researcher who is an expert on these so-called 'eater types'—"

Enji snorted from his spot behind the counter before being discreetly kicked in the shin by Irima who happened to be passing by, cups of steaming coffee in each hand.

Touka could barely suppress her own sneer. These humans were so desperate they used the word 'expert' a little too loosely in the news nowadays. There was no such thing as a human 'ghoul expert.' Even the old man manager was having trouble dealing with that binge-eater Rize.

Every ghoul in Tokyo knew that bitch was a loose screw. More people were being eaten, and this meant more investigators being dispatched. She'd been nothing but trouble to both humans and ghouls ever since she came to their once-peaceful ward.

There was nothing an old geezer on television had to say that could help the humans.

They were prey. All they could do was be careful. Stay indoors, lock the windows, keep their kids close. All that shit. That was the way it was.

Everyone has their own sick, sad story, after all.

Speak of the devil.

"I'm sorry!" Rize half-squealed, half-giggled.

The scrawny kid from table nine squeaked. "Sorry!"

"Oh, this is interesting… I was just reading The Black Goat's Egg, too!"

Smooth move, was all Touka could think of as she finished up a latte art that the manager was beaming proudly over. Real fucking smooth.

"Do you like Sen Takatsuki?" Rize asked in a sickeningly sweet voice that reminded her of stale blood.

Apparently, the unfortunate guy was buying every word of it. "Y-yes! I absolutely love Sen Takatsuki! I love m-mystery novels!"

"Ah, so do I!"

Touka didn't have to wonder why Rize skipped the part about how she also loved to eat young, teenaged boys for fun.

All the manager could do was give her a dismissive smile as she went to serve the coffee with an annoyed look on her face.

Little did she know that everything would change after that day.


xii.

There was a time after he was gone that she realized that she was in love with him.

But, like all other things she deemed unnecessary in life, she squished it like a bug under her shoe.

Easier said than done.


ii.

"Hey… only one of your eyes is red. That's kinda strange…" The bloody, severed arm she had been holding out to him fell to the pavement with a 'squish' when she realized who it was.

It's impossible.

"You… Why… Why weren't you eaten?"

The scrawny kid with black hair hunched his back over and shook. "Please… h-h-help me…"


xi.

She'd been lying awake all night, staring at the rabbit keychain that hung innocently from her phone, debating on which was the better choice: setting it on fire and throwing it at a random passerby or being melodramatic by tossing it in the river while screaming his stupid name.

"Fuck you, shitty Kaneki."


ix.

Her blood tasted like copper—thick, metallic, bitter—and her bones felt like broken glass piercing her lungs from the inside. She felt her body regenerating, but it was poor and agonizingly slow. Without human flesh to consume any time soon, there wasn't much she could do but twitch in pain and cough out even more blood. When she fell to the concrete one last time and Ayato ripped off her kagune, the world started to dissolve in impending darkness, throbbing like a weak, dying pulse in her vision, closing around her, as black as death.

Her kakuhou though… she could feel it. It was still intact…

Did… he spare it on purpose?

She could feel her brother hovering above her, but she didn't want to see him, no. Not him. It was too painful, so unbearable to see Ayato like this. Like he wasn't himself anymore, like the little brother she knew had died and was reborn into someone else after joining the Aogiri Tree.

What had changed him so much in so little time…?

What had she done wrong as an older sister that he would choose to run away rather than stay with her?

No, she didn't want to see her shitty little brother like this.

She wanted…

"Fa… ther…"

There was a scoff that was so typical of Ayato. But his voice… it was softer now. Sadder. More resigned. Like he, too, sounded tired. So very tired. "After all this time, you're still asking him for help?"

She whimpered, tears forming at the edge of her red eyes. "Please… don't le…"

"He's not here anymore, aneki," he whispered so quietly she could barely hear him against the rush of blood in her ears.

"Please… don't leave… me…"

There were strong arms around her all of a sudden, lifting her up from the concrete were she laid—these arms, they were warm in comparison to the gust of cold wind that enveloped her form. She felt so free, so light, like she was flying, that she soon found herself surrendering to the sensation. Surely… surely, this wasn't death. It was much too early… and Ayato still needed her—

"I won't."

Through heavy, swollen eyelids, she caught a glimpse of white hair, gentle, dark eyes, and a familiar mask that could only belong to one person…

Ka…neki…?

You're so beaten up… She wanted to speak, but her lungs were being crushed under her broken ribcage. What… happened to you?

Why did it turn out like this?

"You… idiot," she managed to gasp before everything went dark.


v.

She tried to tell herself this wasn't a crush.

Having a 'crush' was such a… strange thing. Sure, ghouls felt these things, too—they needed to procreate somehow, but it just wasn't something that came naturally for her. And she didn't take it so well that she was often told off by Enji for raising her voice at that particular, one-eyed half-breed on a regular basis. (Yes, even on the slightest kitchen mishaps that she would have normally passed up.)

Growing up in the streets, there were only two emotions she knew very well: love for her younger brother and her hatred for the rest of the human world. That didn't change when they were sheltered in by the Anteiku staff—they were family now, just like how Ayato was to her. When the old man had convinced her to attend school, Yoriko taught her a third emotion: friendship.

Those three were enough to last her a lifetime, she thought.

But now what was this…? This new… 'feeling'?

This shitty idiot came prancing into their café, into their world, into her life and thought he can just mean something that important to her? Well, fuck him.

Who the hell does he think he is?


x.

Hinami had come to visit her after some time.

'Some time' was an understatement in this situation. She felt like it had been forever since she'd last seen her and that one-eyed bastard. His unprecedented decision to temporarily leave Anteiku after the CCG's raid of Kanou's lab had left her and the entire team flabbergasted to the point that it took almost all of her self-control not to beat his face into a bloody pulp and paint the pavement red with his innards.

The uncertainty in his eyes caught her off guard though.

She wanted to tell him that he didn't have to leave, that it didn't matter who did this to him or why. Ghoul, human or somewhere in between, he was still the same Kaneki she grew to care for.

'Care,' in this situation, was also a considerable understatement.

But being the idiot half-breed he was, he was stubborn. And, yet again, there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Why was she always so powerless?

Every, single fucking time?

"Do you miss him, onēchan?" Hinami finally asked the inescapable and very dreaded question. This little girl and her curiosity will be the end of her!

When she found out that words had effectively left her for good, Touka could only respond by squirming awkwardly in her seat.

Of course I do.

"Touka-chan!"

"Y-Yoriko?"

The girl, looking like she just ran a mile or two, placed her hands on her knees and panted before handing over a small package in her hand. Quirking an eyebrow, she rolled the item over in her palm to see a cellphone keychain. A rabbit cellphone keychain, to be precise.

What the…?

She opened her mouth in confusion at Yoriko, but her friend beat her to it.

"Some—" Huff. "—guy with an eyepatch—" Huff. "—passed by and told me to give it to you."

In all her life pretending to be human, she'd never, ever run that fast.

But she knew he wouldn't be there anymore.

"You're so fucking sly."


iv.

As the weeks went by, she realized that he was a naturally curious person who asked questions whenever he saw fit. She didn't mind answering them (and, to be honest, she kind of liked the attention), but his constant pestering about simple things around the café got on her nerves sometimes.

Touka-chan, why don't you teach Kaneki-kun how to pour coffee the right way, hm?

With all due respect, manager! Why me? I'm not his baby-sitter!

Well… maybe that old man really was the one to blame.

"The smaller the sprout, the slower you have to pour," she told him as though it was the most obvious thing in the world while pointing to one of the carafes on the table. He was sitting across from her, looking very much like a puppy being scolded while doing so. "With that, you can say the larger the sprout, the safer it is to pour faster."

He nodded as a reply.

"Try it," she hissed. "And don't spill any! These beans we're using are from South America!"

She eyed him as he gracelessly shuffled towards her side of the table, their shoulders brushing against one another as he reached forward to get the carafe.

It was at that moment that she wondered—despite the heavy and robust scent of the coffee that filled the kitchen—why she could only smell him.

Just him.

Damn. For a ghoul, did he smell good.

And it pissed her off for the rest of the day.


xiii.

She had never felt so angry and confused and so fucking hurt her entire life.

Was it really possible to feel all those things at once?

This… This was a very different kind of pain.

It couldn't even be compared as to when Ayato decided to leave.

They'd put their lives on the line to save his sorry ass from the Aogiri and this… this was the thanks all of them get? This was how he was going to repay her for everything the he made her feel? Everything that he meant to her?

This was it?

He didn't fucking know if he was going to back to them? To her?

She wasn't a good enough reason for him to stay?

He was just going to throw away everything they had for the sake of protecting the people who cared so much for him?

That was something he shouldn't decide on his own. Not when so many people had risked their lives for his cause.

How fucking selfish.

"DON'T EVER COME BACK TO ANTEIKU!"

His eyes widened as her knuckles connected with his jaw. She felt a twisted sort of satisfaction when she saw the look of shock on his face before he was sent flying across the bridge. With the grace of a ragdoll, his back collided with the concrete. But she wasn't finished, no.

She wasn't angry that he was leaving, but, rather, she was angry because she couldn't understand why.

Why did he have to change so much?

What happened to the idiot she yelled at for the stupidest reasons just because she could?

What happened to the Kaneki who would simply scratch his head and give her an apologetic smile in return?

She pinned him down on the ground before almost beating his face into a bloody pulp. What angered her more was that he couldn't answer her—fuck, he couldn't even look at her in the eye when she demanded an explanation. A reason. Something… anything to make her understand.

"Why…?"

When she couldn't hold back the tears in her eyes, she took off towards Anteiku in the hopes that she never had to see him again.


vii.

Their first kiss came unexpectedly. It was more awkward than she imagined (yes, she had imagined it during long, sleepless nights) and it was sloppier than what she'd seen people doing in those stupid American movies Yoriko enjoyed watching so much. It wasn't by a cliché sunset view, but in the dark, cramped storage room of Anteiku. There wasn't even a prelude by the form of sweet words—it just sort of happened.

Though, based on her very low standards and inexperience, it was still, nevertheless, a kiss.

There were other things she didn't expect, as well. Like how passionate everything was that it undid her mind in more ways than one. How she couldn't get enough of how he smelled like a forest in winter that she pressed her swollen lips into his in desperation. How their breaths and heartbeats matched one another like an untold rhythm. How he returned everything with equal fervor as he dug his fingers into her hips, through the fabric of her uniform. How this quiet, timid bookworm made her feel this much that she could feel her kagune threatening to burst forth from her shoulder at any moment…

…How he roughly pushed her against one of the container shelves, showering both of them with cans and expensive coffee beans of all shapes and sizes.

"Touka-chan, is something wr—?"

Irimi's head peeked from behind the door leading to the kitchen and the look on her face made Touka want to melt in a puddle and evaporate. Their very suggestive position against the ledges also didn't help the fact that she wanted to deny everything that was going on in Irimi's head even though it was so painfully obvious.

"Oh, it looks like Kaneki-kun's… er, helping you with that," she began, trying to stifle laughter behind her hand. She then disappeared as quickly as she came. "Have fun, kids!"

The idiot received a very painful punch in the nose before the manager made them spend the remaining hours of the day picking up and sorting coffee beans from the floor.


vi.

Rabbits. She liked rabbits. Very much, actually.

She always found their long, furry ears and twitchy noses adorable.

These past few days, there was also another thing she found undeniably irresistible: a half-breed bastard patiently teaching a little orphaned girl how to read kanji.

Why did he have to be so nice and so… so likeable?


viii.

The Aogiri took him, just like what the manager was expecting.

She had overheard him talking to Yomo about it.

It was probably inevitable, but when the day came, there wasn't much she could do except get floored by her prodigal, long-lost brother. She couldn't even look old man Yoshimura in the eye when he came back to find the shop in ruins.

Strength had never been very important to her, but maybe… maybe Ayato was right.

She was weak.

If she wasn't, that shitty, one-eyed bastard would still be here.

That idiot.


iii.

The manager always had a strange sense of humor. This, she concluded, was the reason why he was always pairing him up with her even though everyone in the shop knew he pissed her off even when he so much as glanced at her with that unpatched human eye of his.

What they had going on was not friendship, contrary to popular belief. He was an acquaintance—someone whose ass she saved from that shitty, four-eyed Nishiki out of good will. Someone on whom the manager had somehow taken to liking that he took him under his wing.

Someone who just so happened to be a ghoul like everyone else in this café.

That was where their likenesses end, she assured herself.

Her conviction was soon overlooked when she thought he was so fucking adorable during the manager's routine 'human food eating' lessons.

(Though she and the rest of the shop speculated it was a rite of passage rather than actual lessons, she enjoyed watching them anyway.

Especially when the ill-fated newcomer was somewhat of a poet.)

"The b-bread is like a c-cleaning sponge!" he gasped, on all-fours on the kitchen floor. "Th-the lettuce smells like g-grass in my mouth! And the ch-cheese feels like clay and tastes s-s-spoiled!"

Cleaning sponge. Even she had to admit, that was hilarious.

"He hates it," the managed chuckled to her.

It was that day when she started smiling more often that she used to.


FIN