Author's note: I want to rewrite this.
Disclaimer: I do not own KHR and Tokyo Ghoul. And I never own the wonderful cover image.
Prologue
As he took his last breath, he found his choice was too amusing.
As Arima quickly, and forcefully, lunged his quinque through his skull, brought the painful feeling toward his damaged brain in a second, Kaneki thought.
Too ironic.
If Touka were here right now, she would have hit him hard in the head, probably even thrown him to the wall, saying how stupid was he.
He couldn't blame her. Because he's, indeed, stupid.
He said he would never repeat the mistake like his mom.
Why's he doing this? To protect her. What's the result? She's crying.
He was so pathetic right now. Protecting the people around him, only to protect himself from the same loneliness that day.
Like his mom, he failed to do so.
Was he did this on his own account? Was he trying to fool himself that he had chosen the right path?
Then that was the only thing he succeeded.
He was so selfish, so stupid. Everyone would mourn for his death soon.
Did he regret doing this? Maybe.
With the final thought, the famous one-eyed ghoul, gave in himself to the dark.
At the same time, a drop of blood leaked through the scratch on the Reaper's cheek.
Arima didn't expect the scratch at all.
xXx
He had finally dead. Drowning in hell.
He wanted to escape this darkness for eternity. The helpless feeling when he couldn't move at all.
It made him feel useless.
But he didn't want help.
He deserved this, wasn't he? He made mistake, so he had to pay the price.
Even if it's a deadly, horrible but the same time, painless price.
But a small, familiar voice said otherwise.
xXx
You're wrong.
You had suffered enough, what left for you to be guilty?
"Everything."
You said so, but don't you want something? Something that you can only deserved that even with your guilt?
"Well, there is a thing."
xXx
"Without any burden, can I live again?"
The same life I had before that fateful day?
xXx
If you wish, my dear. The voice chuckled. He widened his eyes.
But unfortunately, your wish can only be done in another world.
I hope you don't mind.
Then, among the pitch black dark, a small light brightened the space, and then consumed his body.
With an unexpected turn of event, he found himself doing the impossible thing.
He opened his eyes again.
He blinked. Hard. The unfamiliar ceiling. He looked around. A small but cozy bedroom. He slightly moved. He was lying on a comfortable bed.
Then he looked down at his body, only to realize his clothes were too big for him. 'No way…' he thought.
This was unfeasible, but it had been done. So, no use to question. He would find out eventually, he thought. Instead, he focused back on examining his body, and widened his eye as he did that.
He still had white hair, but his body was the body of a 13-year-old. So he shrunk. And he was in another world, according to the voice.
He wanted to bang his head to the wall.
It just sound fucked up.
A knock from the door cut his thought. A gentle voice was heard. "Are you awake? Can I come in?"
"Yes" He answered, surprised at the childish voice he made.
As the door opened, he looked at the figure. It was a petite and thin woman with short brown hair and the chocolate orbs glittering with warmth. She smiled at him.
"I'm glad that you're finally awake! Are you okay? You were unconscious right in front of my house! And your clothes don't fit you either! Care to tell me why?"
"I don't want to talk about it..." He answered, avoid her eyes. "But can you tell me where am I?"
"Namimori, dear. Or, my house."
He stared at her.
Namimori? But more importantly, this woman let a mysterious and white hair boy into her HOUSE?
She met his stare, and returned a small smile.
"Your clothes are too big! I'm going to give you some of my son's clothes. Don't mind it, because he has plenty. And I can buy some again anytime. What color do you want?"
"... Black, please." He said. Black is a nice and familiar color. Always been.
As he kept looking at her opening the closet, he frowned. This woman is too kind, like his mom. "Why?" He whispered. The kindness only lead her to god know where.
And he didn't want to find out.
"Why, you say?" She replied cheerfully without any hesitant, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. "What kind of a cruel woman would I be to leave a poor child unconscious right in front of my house?"
Silent. He stood up. "Thank you for your kindness" He walked to the door. "I'll take my leave. I don't want to trouble you anymore."
"My, you're so nice." She beamed. "My name is Nana. What's your name?"
He was annoyed by the cheerfulness of her, but the same time, also cherish it.
Bless this innocent woman.
"Kaneki, miss."
"Right, Kaneki-kun, what school do you go to?"
"I don't need to go to school." She looked at him for a second, horrified, and she beamed again:
"Don't say that Kaneki-kun! Everyone needs to go to school! And you're 13, right? My son's 13 years old too! How about you? Why don't you got to the same school at him, Namimori Middle High? I'll help you with the transfering."
He considered the offer. There was no ghoul out there, and maybe, just maybe, he can enjoy a normal life?
With no food and eat people flesh too, but…
"If you said so..." Nana gave him a pleasant smile, then she heard a voice.
"Mama, why won't you asleep yet…. Mama, who's this?" A child with fluffy brown hair and orange eyes asked, his little hand rubbed his eyes. Nana looked at him, and then rubbed his fluffy hair. "Oh, Tsu-kun, met Kaneki-kun, a… friend that I just met. He is the same age at you, isn't that wonderful? Oh Kaneki, this is Tsunayoshi, my son."
Tsuna waved at him. "Hi. My name is Tsuna Sawada, and this is my mom, Sawada Nana. My papa isn't here now. Mom said he is working at oil field. I didn't meet him for ten years." His father's really screwed up. That's definitely a lie. How could the woman even believed that? Then he looked at the shy boy. He resembled himself in the past…
He nodded. "Nice to meet you."
Tsuna took a step, attempted to shake his hand, but he tripped and let out a shriek.
"Hieeeeee!"
Maybe not.