Rori's Corner: yes, hi, this your prince Rori, here to represent her new obsession with TG. The opening song Unravel by TK makes me flip tables with emotion. Written while repeating that song over n over n over. Also, a couple of quotes taken directly from the manga.
Warnings: spoilers-ish regarding Kaneki's hair, explicit gore, violence, blood, mentions of rape.
Halves
Everything is bright during the day, so why is it that he can see much clearer at night?
At night, the world is dark. Cast in darkness, surrounded by black. The police says it's dangerous, parents keep curfews, and the world is steadily progressing into a horror land.
He should be afraid, because that's what humans are taught to be. Be afraid of the dark, hold tight onto your life, and live a little longer each day.
That's what humans do to stay alive. Fear is the key to survival.
A human like him should know.
He should know.
But he doesn't know.
He hasn't befriended this "fear."
Maybe because he's no longer human?
Feeling safer in the dark, blending in with the shadows, huddled from the light, never has he felt so in tune with the iron stench of blood on the pavement.
Like an insect, a cockroach, centipede, spider, beetle, ugly things on the bottom rung of hierarchy. He can't climb up. He can't move.
Not anymore.
Not when he knows the pleasure of blood.
The sweet tang that melts, warm, on his tongue and washes down the soft meat of humans. If he'd tasted wine before he turned, maybe that's what blood would taste like. Thinking about blood has him craving for his meal. Makes him crave for something alive.
He wants it.
He wants it so badly.
The flesh, flesh, skin, bones, meat, organs, intestines, limb by limb, eyes, hands, feet.
Flesh.
He wants to bite down, gobble it all up, and swallow it all down. The craving is so strong; it hits him like a tidal wave, and he shudders. Head to toe, the excitement ripples.
Saliva already forming around his lips, drooling down his chin, and he staggers into the alleyway.
The smell of blood is nauseatingly sweet. Nauseatingly addicting. Nauseatingly welcoming.
At night, the world is dark.
The back of the man making all this sweet blood happen on the cement faces him.
Kaneki steps forward, inch by inch, bewitched by the aroma of guts and warmth. He doesn't care anymore. What is human, what is ghoul, they're nothing, of no importance when there's a body awaiting his harvest.
Morals? What are morals?
All he cares for is the heavenly waft of the beheaded human.
Human?
Ghoul?
What does it matter?
As long as it's food.
And humans...they're the same as ghouls.
The man turns around and sees him. What a deranged expression. Does it resonate his own? His own greed, it's not any different from his. They're both crazy.
"You want to die, too, don't you?"
What is this human saying? This human that murdered another human. He has a rectangular butcher knife in one hand, red liquid dripping from its edges and landing on a puddle of bloody goo.
A naked body on the ground.
His attention rivets on the disfigured thing.
It's flesh.
Food. It's food. He's starving. Craving.
For this delicious flesh.
"Come here...you want to die, don't you? I'll rape you, saw your guts out...hack into your brain and eat it...heh..."
The man is laughing.
Strange human.
"Just like this whore here. You want that? Huh, pretty little boy?"
His nose catches the scent of entrails, of meat, and his nerves tingle, skin breaks out in goosebumps. His senses are excited now. His mouth waters.
"Don't be scared. I'll take care of you nice and slow..."
Human?
Ghoul?
Why should he choose?
They're both monsters.
The man is giggling, shoulders heaving, and he looks into those beady, hopeless eyes.
Suddenly, he snaps out of the trance. No, no, no, he can't -
No, no, this is all wrong.
This is wrong, I can't, no, I'm still human, I can't - I won't, I won't, I won't!
Why is it all wrong?
"Eat him."
No, no, no -
"Ka - ne - ki - san."
No, stop it -
"Smells like food, doesn't it? Dig in."
"R-Rize-san," he gasps, holding his head in place as he fights the voice inside his head.
How can he possibly, possibly, go down this road?
"Eat him! You've already done this. You're already tainted. There's no going back! Eat him!"
Temptation is drawing him in, and as he battles this insane thirst, the human is heading toward him, butcher knife raised up high.
"Hahahah!"
The echoes of the maniacal laughter ring in his head, and he just knows that Rize is enjoying his struggles against the ghoul inside him. How can you tame a wild animal?
The answer is obvious.
You can't.
So he bites his lip, tastes his own blood, and then he opens his jaw wide.
The kagune erupts from his back, coils around the human, and strangles him, like a snake would with its prey. The tortured screams are muffled within the bind, and with each kick of the man's legs, the coils tighten until he can hear sounds of bones being snapped and limbs being torn.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
He can't contain this hunger, has long crossed the line between human and ghoul, will never be innocent again.
He rips out the man's heart with his hands; blood sprays everywhere, stains his white hair, drenches him in sin.
Human?
There is no such thing.
Here, with his mouth covered in sweet blood and warm arteries, is his metamorphosis.
At night, the world is dark.
Yet everything is clear. He can see things in the dark that he can't see during the day.
He sees the world at its darkest hours, sees humans and ghouls as they are, witnesses the treachery of the horror that neither one nor the other can escape from. Taking half and half of each world, he becomes half light and dark. But there is one point that they converge, and that point is a crossroad. Can he be half light and half dark forever?
Remain human, and his ghoul instincts will overtake him.
Remain ghoul, and his human instincts will draw him back.
Will he gradually lose his humanity to his ghoul?
And become this wretched monster in disguise as human.
"...Ken?"
But if there are ghouls, then god must not exist. For which god will force his creation to undergo such torment?
"Ken, is that you?"
God must not exist. There's too much madness and pain for there to be one.
"Hey, I called you so many times, and you never answered. So much for being best friends, pft!"
I'm not the protagonist of a novel or anything.
It's not that he doesn't want to see him.
It's just that, with the things are now, there's no way they can walk the same path anymore.
I'm a college student who likes to read, like one you can find anywhere.
"You're not supposed to be here," he says, as he gulps down brain tissue of the man he killed. And there are tears leaking from his eyes, streaking down his cheeks, disappearing into the cement to mix with the lukewarm blood.
"Che, then you shouldn't be out here, either. Gah, what's this smell? Ken? What are you doing?"
But...if, for argument's sake, you were to write a story with me in the lead role, it would certainly be...
"Oi, Ken."
Run, run, run away, please, for god's sake, run away from me.
"What's wrong? What's with all this blood - holy shit, woah, Ken, what's - "
"You shouldn't be here," he repeats, but his voice breaks, and now he knows, now he knows, so what can he do now? He's a ghoul, and he knows.
And he turns around, with the corpse's head in his hands, the man's scalp ripped off, brain detached, eyes empty and wide, mouth open, blood everywhere. Through his hazy vision, he sees his best friend, the shock on his face, the trauma already building in those familiar eyes, and this is the last thing either of them wants to see. Instead of hurting others, become the one who gets hurt.
But this time, it's not possible.
"You shouldn't be here."
Run, run, run, run, run, please run.
"Hide."
He's already hurt him beyond salvation.
It would certainly be...
...a tragedy.