This will be a long multi-chapter story with plot and character developments! There are many symbolic significance here so feel free to interpret them in the review box below. I look forward to your feedbacks!
Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Tokyo Ghouls.
Awakening—Spider lilies and white spaces
This is how Kaneki Ken awakens.
The process in surfacing from deep oblivious unconsciousness, was remarkably like waiting in a long line up inside a bookstore to get his favourite author to sign his most beloved book. The endless line of people in front and behind made him frustrated seeing as he wasn't getting closer to the front. It seemed to stretch, never shrinking or moving as he stood inside the line. Never outside, if he had, he would lose his place. He was just among the many, the mass of ordinary people in a normal settling getting his book sign. A person that lives within society's laws, living a perfectly mediocre life. He probably was one of those perfect outstanding citizen. He guess he'll die as any other outstanding citizen too, working his life away within the clogs of society, contributing as much as he can before dying within its system. But anyways that wasn't the point. His mind was wandering because the line was way too long! He has been standing here for hours! Somehow it all seems endless, pointless even, the unbearable wait…until he realizes he was almost there! He could see the light to his tunnel. The end to his journey. The finish line to his conclusion!
He was finally next! His mind was flooded with jumble of numerous things to say. He loved Takatsuki Sen's works! He reads all of them. One being the book he held dearly near his heart, the white book titled, 'The Black Goat's Egg'. Somehow it speaks to him, the protagonist was the most relatable in all its haunting revelations. The white book was in his opinion, Takatsuki Sen's best works! She was his idol, famous among the literature circle! He was finally here, meeting the very person! But he shouldn't get nervous, he'll only be able to be in the present of Takasuki Sen for only so long, literally for a matter of minutes! He also doesn't want to be those crazy fans, or those that doesn't know what to say and ends up mumbling or fidgeting! He somehow needed to make an impression, a memorable image. He was damn sure to make the wait worth it all!
Yet when he was call next, his foot froze in place. Everything was blinding white. No his surroundings has been dyed by black ink. Blooming in the darkness was red spider lilies that spread behind him, the people, the line had disappear. Now it was just a sea of crimson. Oddly, he doesn't move, never thought about advancing… So why was the light getting bigger?! Instead, it seemed to be approaching him with frightening speed. No! He doesn't want to leave yet! He was so close, he was almost there! He was—the light enclose on him, he was consume by bright white.
Crack
—similar to his Sundays as he groggily turned on his mattress to block the burning rays from blinding his senses. Then lazily groaning as he tiredly covered himself from head to toes with his warm blanket. He decided he was too comfortable to surface to a conscious state. Rather the simple effort to open his heavy eyelids were nonexistence. He was in a type of deep slumber where he doesn't want to ever wake up to his dreary, mediocre life.
He was happy here. Perfectly content with his present state. It was a nice pleasant sensation of floating peacefully…quietly…disappearing like he had never existed. He was fading…no, he was dye by the color. White surrounds him. Blank, everything has gone blank, empty and white. He was blank.
It was nice here. He wouldn't mind staying...
Yet, this pricking light was unrelenting, it shines brilliantly on his closed eyelids. He was sure he had covered himself with his blanket. But it pulls, forces him to—
Crack
He open his eyes. Bright flashes of heat washed over him. He felt like a boiling potato inside a scorching furnace! His mind was screaming from the overwhelming pain, everything hurts. The lights burned his eyes, his throat parched, his lungs felt crush under his ribs and it was getting increasing harder to breath. Was he hyperventilating? He couldn't tell because his mind was swirling like a vortex, tilting on its axis, making him want to vomit! Colors bending, mixing and blots of black encircling him like vultures. It was a bizarre tapestry. He wanted it gone.
Too much sensations overwhelmed him to the point that he wanted to scream, puke and cry all at once!
If this was the afterlife, he rather crawl back to whatever hole he came from. That place was more of a haven than whatever this was.
"—e's awa—"
Sounds, he hears static of sounds. Loud, voices with different tones. One light, feminine and the other, a low baritone. The voices were pushing him down. Entrapping him in their claws. He was being oppressed!
Crack
"He won't—st—p—uggling!"
"Hold—down!"
"He needs—"
"—no, that's—"
"Stop—"
"—struggling!" The lighter voice shouted in frustration.
It was familiar, that tone, that voice!
He wakes.