IF YOU HAVEN'T READ CHAPTER 143 THEN DON'T READ THIS.
So 143 left me in an emotional state to say the least and with my all out refusal to believe Kaneki has kicked the bucket, here is my version of a reunion of sorts between Kaneki and Touka. (Because there will be a reunion because Kaneki is definitely not dead.)
p.s. This written very quickly and hazardously so feel free to tell me if there are any typos I need to fix.
The sharp, unforgiving gust of frigid winter wind swept through the courtyard, tugging desperately at everything flimsy and lightweight, but only managed to suck away the last leaves of autumn from the trees before leaving the students in a chilled numbness. Touka sighed in relief at the caught paper between her finger tips, the edges flapping harshly against her hold. She smoothed the paper back over the table, white wisps curling from her mouth as she pulled her scarf over her lips.
"I can't believe they are still forcing us to sit outside!" Yoriko shivered. "They should let us in for study hall when it's freezing."
A wry smile came to Touka's lips as she reached over and flicked her fingers affectionately against her friend's forehead. "Stop complaining. At least you aren't stuck doing math."
Yoriko faltered at the cheerful response from the dark-haired girl, her eyes widening in surprise then realizing that the conversation demanded a response she replied in an optimistic tone. "I was so not complaining, and stop doing that."
"Doing what?" Touka flicked her again and tried to keep the grin but she could feel the brief happiness draining away, leaving her insides with the consuming hollowness that was all too familiar.
Touka guessed it showed on the outside as well because Yoriko smiled sadly, but placed an understanding hand on her shoulder. Touka wasn't sure what the girl had pieced together for the reason of her depressed state for the past months, only that something had driven her into a despondence and it something to do with-
Touka's jaw clenched and she forced her attention back to the sheet of numbers before her. She picked up the pencil.
Don't think.
Work.
Distraction.
Don't think about it.
Don't think at all.
He's not-
The pencil stumbled, and Touka scowled, roughly dragging the eraser over the page and swiping the shavings off with the cuff of her sleeve.
Math.
Work.
Don't think.
"Touka."
Don't think.
Don't think.
Don't think.
"Touka!"
"What!?" She snapped, her eyes flaring. Immediately, Touka's anger turned to guilt at Yoriko's hurt expression. She exhaled slowly. "Sorry, Yoriko, I didn't mean to-"
"No," Yoriko shook her head, "It's just, well," the girl pointed a pale finger at the paper. "Look."
Touka's eyes widened.
Twelves decorated the page, all written in hectic, cramped lines that became rows upon rows that trailed to the bottom of the paper. Touka rubbed her eyes. How long had I…
This was not the first time something like this had happened. Where she found herself doing something or repeating things over and over again that she had no recollection of. Like the time when she had accidentally turned in an essay where she repeated the opening sentence seventeen times. Or the time when she had been asking a customer what they would like to drink and he interrupted to tell her she had already asked eleven times before.
Sleep deprivation, Renji would tell Touka in a careful tone. You need to sleep.
But she couldn't. Not with him not there. Not with the guilt.
She would take being a broken record over the nightmares.
Touka sighed and just as she set to erase the mess she had made did another gust of wind sweep through, swirling the paper from her grasp and spiraling it high into the air. And that's when she decided that the universe truly did hate her.
"Watch my stuff." Touka pleaded, not waiting for a response as she jumped from her seat.
The annoyance of having to run at a human pace was nearly unbearable, especially with the sheet fluttering tauntingly along her fingers tips just before swirling out of reach. She was already pushing it now, running on the faster side of average, any more would look a bit too-
A pale hand reached into the air and plucked the offending paper out of the breeze.
Touka slowed to a light jog and words of polite gratitude were on the edge of her lips when her heart stopped.
No.
There were things she could handle. She could handle the emptiness that consumed her, something that left her with a constant despondency. She could handle the way the misery slowly picked and chewed her away, leaving her a hollow shell. She could handle the memory loss and sleep deprivation that was slowly driving her crazy. She could handle the nightmares that plagued her when she went to sleep, because she only suffered them when her body demanded it. Hell, even the guilt seemed more bearable in comparison.
But this, this was cruel.
Consciousness was suppose to be the reprieve from the unconscious, albeit a merciless mockery of one, but better then the constant reminder sleep brought. But how was this fair?
The white hair was as unruly as ever, only longer now, curling slightly at the ends and fanning away from his face. The rotted, black nails looked dead against his skin, unblemished and untanned as if it had not seen a day in the sun. Most noticeably he was taller now, the top of her head maybe brushing his chin and his shoulders broader, his form still lithe but looking very much less like a teenage boy's and more so like a young man's. The eyepatch was missing and two depthless steel grey eyes peered back her.
With a rush of adrenaline, her heart clenched painfully and her muscles tightened. Then she was gasping for air, her hands grasping her throat and god, she couldn't breath.
"Touka." The name left his lips with a familiar softness that sent her reeling and it sounded so real, so real.
But it's not, it can't be.
And maybe she deserved it, the awful trick her mind was conjuring, because trash like you should stay out of Anteiku.
And air was just not reaching her lungs.
"Touka." His words were panicked and then she was in a warm embrace. His hands were firm, one hand rubbing circles on her back in a calming motion and the other tucking her head beneath his chin. "Hey, hey, it's okay."
That's when she realized she was trembling, because the hallucination was becoming too real, and she could feel the warmth of his body through the thick clothing, the hand combing softly though the tresses of her hair, the familiar scent of books and fresh spring rain, and his mouth moving as he talked soothingly into her neck.
"So," There was a pause, filled only with the howling breeze that bites at them. "Your, uh, hair has gotten longer."
And it was said with such unsophisticated awkwardness that conveyed he had no idea how to handle the situation, something that was so completely and utterly him.
And then she heard it.
The steady thump growing louder in her ear that resonated deep within his chest. And with every solid beat, blood pumping through his heart and racing through his veins, did his warmth seem warmer, scent stronger, body firmer, and voice fuller.
Touka pulled back, eyes growing wide with realization as she met his gaze. "Kaneki." The name did not bring pain. "You're- you're…"
Kaneki smiled, and his eyes still, still had that boyish naivety beneath them and it was all she needed to answer the question.
So I tried to make it somewhat believable. If anyone liked it let me know if you guys want more, because I'm am thinking of possibly turning this into a series of one shots for Touken if anyone is interested. Thanks for reading.