My parents died when I was eight. In the world I come from, I guess it's not that big a deal. Most ghouls are orphans nowadays, and I'm no exemption.
My dad was doctor—well, not formally, he only worked with ghouls—and my mother was . . . A mother.
I wasn't there when Dad died . . . But I saw Mom.
Mom and I were staying in this little ghoul cafe place called Ainteiku and one of the guys who worked there found me right before the Investigators that killed Mom got at me. He didn't let me see it, but I knew he killed the guy.
He went missing for two years before he filed and was matched to this other girl who'd worked at the cafe. She hadn't known it was him because her Scar was a different name. Sasaki Haise.
I moved in with the girl after my parents went, and became friends with Sasaki when he got there.
I promised myself when Touka—the girl—got pregnant, I would move out. Only three bedrooms and all.
Well, Haise knocked her up when I was fourteen (took him four years), which was fortunately (or unfortunately) the lowest age you could file as. If I'd had to move out before I was fourteen, I'd been homeless until then.
Which meant unless I wanted to die, if I was moving out, I had to file.
So I filed.
Thing is, the guy is . . . Kinda famous, so to speak, in the ghoul community.
And I know his sister.
He is rumored to be ruthless and even his own sister wants to hate him.
If Touka hadn't gotten pregnant, I wouldn't have filed until I was forced to, at eighteen.
If so many people, including his sister, were so afraid of him, he had to be pretty fucking bad, didn't he?
…...
What color hair would she have? Eyes? Would she be Japanese or would I have to learn her language?
What species would she be? Would I have to hide myself from her?
At least I knew her name, written in looping elegance aloung my wrist. Hinami.
If she was a ghoul, I hoped she didn't know me, hadn't heard things about me.
I'd try to be nice, as much as Ayato Kirishima could, anyway.
What would she be like, though? Would she play any instruments? Would her face be coated in makeup?
My head was filled with thoughts about her from then on.
Flipping through the catalog of houses and wondering if she'd like an apartment or house to ourselves out in Osaka.
At some jewerly place with the money he'd been issued and thinking, white gold or silver? Diamonds or just the band? And if diamonds, what color? Would she care if he got the wrong color?
What kind of coffee? Did she drink coffee? Ayato grabbed a jar of instant because it was least expensive and called it a day.
He put the coffee and the water he'd bought in the fridge for if she decided she wanted any while he was gone.
…...
Hinami twisted the key in the lock roughly, opening the door, jerking them out, and clicking them back onto her belt.
The layer of dust on the floor was impressively thick; Hinami disregarded the idea of taking off her shoes the moment she saw it.
She opened the small window next to the door and went searching for the broom.
There were older footprints from the backdoor to the kitchen, stopping at the utility closet and the fridge, inside of which was a case of water, and a can of instant coffee crystals, which, Hinami decided, were only in the fridge because all available counter space was covered in dust. There was a note under the can, written in borderline unintelligible kanji, saying that if she wanted anything else she'd have to buy it herself.
The only other thing it seems that he'd done was wash out the sink and put inside it dishes.
Hinami sighed and hoped he wasn't a deadbeat. Did that gene even run in the Kirishima family? God, she hoped not.
The broom was the brightest shade of yellow Hinami had every seen, and the rest of the equipment in the utility closet in the kitchen was in also in varying blinding shades.
She swept the porch and steps outside before continuing through the entryway, living room, kitchen, dining room, and hallway, stopping halfway through the kitchen to great Kaneki, who was moving her things to her new house in his and Touka's new minivan.
Hinami might have tried to make fun of him for it, but he was still ecstatic, though he did acknowledge Touka's mood swings by simply saying that she woke up, threw up, punched him in the stomach, and went back to sleep, to which Hinami laughed. He left after about ten minutes, promising to bring the rest of her things tomorrow, leaving her with a stack of cardboard boxes on the porch.
She finished the rest of the house, discluding bedrooms and cabinets, and had moved most of the boxes into the dining room by nightfall; Hinami was taking a breather on the porch, observing the neighbourhood, and going through the paper bag Onii-chan had dropped off earlier, when a tall, dark figure turned onto the sidewalk leading to the house. Hinami hurriedly rolled the top of the bag down and stood up, standing next to the door with her hand hovering next to her key chain if the stranger tried something.
He stopped just out of sight, but Hinami could smell the ghoul on him.
"Are you Hinami?"
"A-Ayato?"
"... Yeah."
"Um. Yes." She bowed her head just slightly. "I thought you weren't coming today."
"I thought you were a human." He replied.
She was silent a moment before replying, holding up the bag. "Well, I've got dinner."
… … .. . … .. . ….. .. . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . …... .. .. … … . … . .. . . . .. . . . .. . .
"We're sleeping on the floor?"
Hinami looked at him, slicing the length of thigh meat into fours on a plate without looking. "You didn't bring anything?"
"... No."
"What, are you homeless?" Hinami demanded. Normally she wouldn't say something like that, but he was annoying her.
He took a deep breath before speaking. "You could say that."
"Oh." She said.
"Forget it," he told her, grabbing an arm fillet out of the paper bag and, shutting it in the fridge, peeling the wrapper back and taking a bite out of it. A trickle of blood ran over his lower lip and down his chin. She forked a piece of meat and shoved it in her mouth, chewing while she went over to grab a bottle of water. She swallowed, retreating with the bottle in her hand, but his wrapped around her wrist.
"Hey!" She exclaimed, but he ignored her.
"Is that it?" He asked, pointing at the whiter flesh peaking out from under her sleeve.
She tried to pull away; failed. "Yeah. It is." She responded arogantly.
"Can I see it?" He asked.
"Lemme see yours!" She retorted childishly.
He let go, turning over his wrist to reveal a sketching of her name in her own handwriting over the veins in stark scar tissue. Small writing, two lines, shallow enough to have outdented.
Hinami swallowed and rolled up her sleeve.
Hers was in jagged, sharp letters, one row, and so deep she would be surprised it wasn't still bleeding if it was a regular scar.
"It doesn't hurt?"
"Not constantly." She told him, looking at the ground. "But yeah. . . . " She ate another bite, leaning against the counter. "Um, do you work?"
"...Kind of. Do you?"
"Fifteen." She replied around a mouthful of meat. "Nothing really available."
"Right. Um." His cheeks tinted. "Did you like the ring?"
Hinami looked at the loop of medal around her ring finger. Champagne with a salmon-colored gem in it, that Hinami always pointed upwards.
"Yeah. I like the color." She retorted, swallowing the last bite of food, rinsing her plate and taking the rest of the water to the living room, where she'd already laid out a bed out of blankets. She put the water on the floor and grabbed a pair of pajamas from one of the boxes.
When she came out of the bathroom, Ayato was leaning against the wall, seemingly thinking. Hinami allowed herself a minute to look at him—which she hadn't really done yet.
He had a wider mouth and eyes and a thinner nose than Touka's, the tip curved where his sister's was pointed, and his face was sharper. He also had bluer hair her, and purpler eyes, and she thought his ears were pierced.
Hinami shifted her weight; his head turned and he met her eyes.
She looked at the ground and pulled at her short gray pajama shorts and sat down on the blanket-bed before looking at him.
His eyes were very dark, and the top half of his face was in shadow. His arms were crossed; he'd turned off the light in the kitchen.
Hinami felt fear brush her skin.
He pushed off the wall and turned off the light in the entryway, laying on the bed next to her on his side, kicking off his shoes and turning up his hood.
Hinami pulled her legs up to her chest and rocked like that for a while before her neck started to hurt, in which she grabbed her pillow, placed it on her knees, and fell asleep like that.
She woke up, the sun still down, when he leaned her back on his arm, placing her pillow under her head and covering her with the blanket.
If he saw her eyes flutter, he ignored it, continuing to the front door.