Written for pigeonghoul, as part of the Tokyo Ghoul Valentine's Day Exchange.

i.

It's been three days since Ayato left, and Touka has spent all of them lying in bed listlessly.

The manager told her, earlier, that it wasn't her fault.

She can't bring herself to believe him.

There must have been something she could have done, something to make him stay.

(She's a failure as an older sister, and she knows her father would be disappointed.)

There's a knock on the door.

Irimi, maybe?

"Kirishima-san?"

Not Irimi, then.

Touka groans, and buries herself under her covers even more. The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but she can't quite find a name to match to it, or the energy to reply.

The knocking continues.

Touka gives up and pulls herself out of bed to open the door.

Kosaka Yoriko stands before her, holding a pot in both hands.

Her face brightens. "Ah, Kirishima-san! I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm Kosaka Yoriko. You know, from school? You can just call me Yoriko, though."

Touka stares at her blankly.

There's no reason for Yoriko to be visiting her. They've talked in class, occasionally, but there was never any indication they were friends.

At least, she didn't think so.

Yoriko continues talking, ignoring Touka's unresponsiveness. "Our whole class has been worried, since you haven't been in school lately. I heard that you were sick and thought I might visit."

She pauses.

"May I come in?"

Touka moves aside, wordlessly.

(Maybe if she doesn't say anything, Yoriko will leave and let her be alone and miserable.)

The orange haired girl brushes past her, still grinning widely.

(Touka wonders if she ever stops smiling.)

She sets the pot down on the tiny stove that resides in the apartment.

"I made you some soup," she says, somewhat sheepishly. "I like to cook, you see. I thought that maybe it would help you feel better?"

Touka continues to stare.

(Part of her wonders if Yoriko is working for the Doves. Is the food a test to see if she's a ghoul?)

Yoriko clears her throat. "Well, I'll just leave this here, and if you want, you can eat it later. I promise it doesn't taste bad!"

(No. That wouldn't make sense. What is it, then?)

She looks at the floor, fidgeting slightly. "I hope you feel better and come back to school soon. It's kind of lonely, not having anyone to talk to."

(Is she… being nice?)

She walks to the door slowly, glancing back at Touka. "I guess I'll be leaving, then. Bye, Kirishima-san!"

"Wait," Touka mumbles.

Yoriko whips around. "Huh?"

Touka smiles hesitantly. "You can call me Touka."

Yoriko smiles back, and some unfamiliar feeling rises in Touka's chest. "Goodbye, then, Touka!"

The door closes, and Touka is left alone, staring at the pot.

Her father's words echo in her mind.

(It's not good to only receive things, Touka.)

Well, she's already failed him in one way. Maybe, she can at least do this for him.

The soup is disgusting, but she manages it, for her father.

(And maybe, for Yoriko too.)

She returns to school the next day, despite having lingering queasiness from digesting human food.

Yoriko gives her a blinding smile from across the room, and Touka thinks that maybe, she could become used to this.

ii.

Yoriko doesn't come to school one day.

Touka is not worried. Not at all.

She reassures herself that Yoriko is simply sick and at home.

(A tiny voice tells her that Yoriko almost never gets sick.)

She's not worried. She's not.

She doesn't run through a list of all the ghouls in the 20th Ward, she doesn't calculate the proximity of Yoriko's home to their feeding grounds, and she definitely doesn't consider calling Irimi to ask around about recent ghoul attacks.

She does, however call Yoriko's house.

"Oh, she's sick today," Yoriko's mother says on the other line. "If you'd like to stop by though, I'm sure she'd enjoy it."

Touka hangs up the receiver, and pretends she isn't relieved.

She corners Kaneki in the back room, after their shift.

"Do you know how to make soup?"

"Uh… why do you want to know?"

"Answer me!" she demands, shaking his shoulders.

He flinches backward. "Okay, okay, calm down! Yes, I know how to make soup."

She huffs. "Good." Then she looks at the ground. "Could you… teach me?"

"Sure?" he responds, confused. "Uh, why?"

"That's none of your business," she snaps.

"Uh, alright then."

There's a moment of silence.

"...Touka?"

"What?"

"Could you please let go of my shirt now?"

"Oh. Sorry."

iii.

Yoriko waves from across the street, smiling, and Touka is struck with a sudden urge to call out to her, to say something.

The moment passes, and Yoriko turns and leaves. Touka keeps waving, anyway.

Everyone leaves her, in the end, and by now it's stopped surprising her. She's grown to expect it, even.

There are, however, a select few that still haunt her.

(Her father. Her brother. Kaneki. Hinami.)

She tries not to think about them too much.

Yoriko, she knows, will abandon her one day as well.

That's what people do, after all, once the novelty has worn off and they find bigger and better things to move on to.

(Her life, it seems, has always been rendered into an endless list of arrivals and departures.)

It would be easy to prevent the pain; a few cruel words, a week or two of rejection, and she could crush the friendship as easily as she could crush someone's skull.

Humans, after all, are too easily broken.

She could end a relationship on her own terms, for once. She could be someone who hurt others, rather than the one being hurt.

She could do it.

(She can't.)

And she loathes herself for it.

Yoriko will always be the one thing she'll never be able to sacrifice, and Touka knows one thing for certain; one day, this weakness will be the death of her.

iv.

It's only been a week since Anteiku's destruction, but the dust and debris of the place she once called home have long been cleared away.

Security remains tight; Doves swarm every corner, Rc scanners have been hastily installed in the entrances of most major buildings, and random checkpoints have become routine by now.

It would be suicide to try and return.

Touka does it anyway.

As soon as Yomo is asleep, she sneaks out of the window of the tiny apartment they've holed up in; it's located in a fairly seedy part of the 13th Ward, and it's not ideal, but the high ghoul population has allowed them to disappear into the masses.

She's not stupid. Impulsive, yes, but not completely reckless. A part of her strongly considers convincing Yomo to come with her; there's safety in numbers, especially for ghouls, after all.

In the end, though, she gives up on the idea. This is something she needs to do alone.

And if she dies for it?

Well, she doesn't have much left to live for at this point, anyway.

Getting in without being noticed is hard, but she manages. The twisting alleys and backstreets are familiar, almost hauntingly so, and she is bombarded with memories of happier times and warm smiles and coffee and–

She pushes the thought out of her mind.

(Irimi, Koma, Kaneki, Yoshimura… they're all dead and gone, and nothing will change that now.)

It doesn't take her long to reach her destination. After a quick check for possible onlookers, she scales the fire escape with ease, carefully sliding through an open window.

She takes a moment to survey the room; the floor is pristine, everything in it's place. Typical.

Moonlight pours through the window, settling on Yoriko's sleeping figure, and Touka takes a step forward, her shadow falling across the bed.

"It's me," she whispers quietly.

Yoriko does not stir.

"I came to say goodbye. There are some… things I have to deal with, and I'm leaving the 20th Ward. Forever."

She pauses.

"I don't think we'll see each other again. So, thanks, I guess. For being my friend."

Her words don't sound quite right. She knows, deep in her heart, there are things that she desperately wants to add to the end of her monologue.

It terrifies her, how badly she wants to say them.

She doesn't, though.

(She doubts she ever will.)

"Goodbye, Yoriko."

She climbs out the window, taking care not to make too much noise, and quickly flees the ward.

When she's back in the safety of her own room, in the shitty apartment, she stares out her window, elbows resting on the dust-laden window.

If she looks hard enough, she can almost make out the lights of the 20th Ward.

She whispers her unspoken words from earlier to the far away lights, and pretends she is not alone.

Her breath fogs the glass.

v.

It's freezing outside, today, and Touka wraps her scarf more tightly around her face, trying to ward off the bitter cold.

Mentally, she curses Yomo for sending her off on yet another resupply trip. It's not her fault :re constantly runs out of coffee beans; after all, he's the one who constantly binges on coffee when the customers aren't looking.

She's only a block away from the warmth of the shop when something slams into her, sending her sprawling onto the sidewalk.

No, not something, someone.

Her head is ringing, and her eyes are squeezed shut in pain, but she manages to make out the sound of someone apologizing profusely.

"Oh God, I am so, so sorry," a girl is saying frantically, "This is all my fault; I wasn't looking where I was going."

"No, it's okay," Touka replies dazedly, rubbing her head. "I wasn't looking, either."

She opens her eyes slowly, only to find the girl gaping at her.

Why is she staring at her like that? Is there something on her face, or something?

"Touka?" the girl says, leaning forward. "Is… is that you?"

Touka blinks. "Yoriko?"

Yoriko nods and laughs nervously. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," Touka says numbly, slowly standing up. "It has."

Yoriko reaches out a hand and easily helps her to her feet. Touka takes the moment to examine her.

Her hair has gotten shorter, and she no longer has bangs, but it's still the bright orange color Touka remembers. Her face is different, though; the cheekbones are more defined, and her eyes are older.

She's not sure how she's supposed to feel.

(She doesn't even know what to say.)

She suddenly feels like a child again, awkward and fumbling for the right words.

"How have you been?" she blurts out abruptly.

Yoriko blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question. Then she shrugs. "Fine, I guess. Things were weird for a while, after you left, but… I moved on."

There's no anger or accusation in her words, but Touka feels guilty all the same. "I'm sorry."

Yoriko laughs at the apology. "It's okay." There's an unrecognizable emotion in her eyes. "I tried to track you down, you know, but asking around would have been too suspicious. After all, you worked at Anteiku."

A cold feeling settles in Touka's stomach. "Oh?"

Yoriko continues, ignoring her. "The CCG interrogated me, you know. I guess they thought that I knew where you had gone."

Every instinct in her is screaming at her to run. For all she knows, this is a trap and there are Doces waiting on the rooftops above her.

She swallows hard. "Yoriko, I–"

"Touka," Yoriko interjects, "I'm not going to turn you in. Stop worrying."

Touka's mouth is dry. "You should. You could be imprisoned for helping me."

Yoriko grabs her hands, holding them gently. "Touka," she says, "You were my best friend. You still are, you know. I could never betray you."

Yoriko's hands are warm around her frozen fingers, and Touka wonders what she's supposed to say to that.

"Yoriko," she says carefully, trying to keep her voice steady. "Do you want to talk, somewhere? I know a place."

Yoriko smiles softly. "I'd love to."

vi.

Yoriko laughs, and it's the most beautiful thing Touka has ever heard.

It's odd. There is something bubbling in her chest, rising through her throat, and before she can stop herself, words are tumbling out of her mouth.

"I love you."

It takes her a moment to realize what she's just said.

Maybe, this is what happens when words are pushed down for years and years; maybe, they eventually spill out in a rush of giddy emotion and naive trust.

She swallows, trying to ease the dryness from her throat. There's no going back now.

"I've loved you for a very long time."

It makes her uneasy, opening herself to someone like this. When she was younger and angrier, she would have been terrified; now, she finds, she doesn't care.

Not anymore.

Yoriko looks at her, through her, the way she's always been able to. Her eyes are soft.

"I know," she says quietly. "I have too."

They don't kiss, like some other couples would. The moment's not right, and maybe, it's a little too soon.

It's alright. They have their words, and each other. They can be content with that.

Yoriko sips her coffee, and Touka leans back, watching her.

It's not much, this tenuous life they've built.

But for Touka, and for now, it's enough.

fin.

Not gonna lie, some of these parts were easier to write than others, Overall though, I'm happy with this fic (despite the fact that it took me forever). Writing Touka has always come easy to me, so that was nice, but Yoriko was definitely a challenge (we barely get to see her in canon, as it is).

I think I ultimately wrote her as someone who has this endless source of patience and kindness, who just naturally sees through people's actions and motives. She always struck me as the type who would be understanding, and I definitely think, upon discovering Touka was a ghoul, she would be accepting, although maybe a little fearful at first.

I don't think she'd be angry, though. Yoriko never seemed to have much anger, in my opinion, and besides– she had three years (I think the time skip between TG and TG:re was three years?) to think about it here.