Months passed as quickly as paper airplanes soaring through drab classrooms, ending up as forgotten pieces of crumpled paper in the dusty corners. And Kaneki was just like them.
6:00 A.M. Wispy clouds illuminated by the warn sunrise danced across the sky. A sidewalk that seemed as if an enchanted spider had weaved a magnificent web of cracks into the path. A group of trees stretched in the morning light, circling a clearing shaded by the pale greens of the leaves. The coral pink sun had peeked its head out through the rolling hills, casting a flaming patchwork of colors against leaves, lakes, buildings- everything. A vivid tangerine shade, scorching-yellows, fire-crackling-reds, spirit-warming-pinks, those colors were all there. Yes, it was all there, even...a Kaneki with a kitchen knife drawn to his neck, breathing in all the glory around him?
The color drained from the young man's hesitant face like how the smooth rock he was sitting on drained the heat from him. A tremble. An accidental caress from the knife. A drop of blood. A defeated drop of an arm followed by a weak sigh. Then, a shaky arm lifted up again, parallel to the ruby drops on the pale neck. This cycle continued on and on-and Kaneki experienced this almost every day. One day it would be a knife to the wrist. Another day it would be gagging out 3 pills in front of the toilet. Sometimes it would be staring at a length of rope slumped against a gray wall across from him.
The sound of light laughter trickled through the thin canopy of trees drew Kaneki out of his trance. The laughter reached his ears and startled him to the point where he shallowly slit his neck. Flinching from the sharp pain that lingered like a dying record player, Kaneki bit his lip (which drew more blood) to hide his low groan. He felt as if the blood flowing out could paint a hundred bird chests a striking red, turning them into robins. What was it, 7:00 A.M now? School would start soon, explaining the presence of the passing students.
"Hey, Kaneki! Don't think that I can't hear you groaning from here. Even if you are 'taking care of a problem', why not do it at home instead of outside where all the lovely poison ivy thrives?" The familiar cheerful voice of Uta was interrupted by the quiet scolding from Yomo, something about being appropriate. "Anyways~ come out here and join your old friends, you smol lonely cinnamon roll-" A yelp was heard as Kaneki mindlessly threw his knife at a tree in embarrassment, promising to come back and retrieve it later.
The young student quickly flipped his collar up as an attempt to hide the blood flowing like a damn river, slowly making his way to his friends who were a couple grades higher than him. When Kaneki finally reached their side, he wondered if he should just make a run for it since his almost-suicide scene was next to the three of them. But when Uta lightly slapped his back in greeting and when Yomo nodded at him in acknowledgement, offering a light smile, Kaneki decided to bask in this 'warm light' he used to experience all the time- although it was temporary. After all, this fantasy will soon fade away anyways. At least that's what Kaneki assured himself each night.
"I'm gonna be late! I'm going to be late!" Hide gasped out as he grabbed a few thin sheets of origami paper and shoved it in his pocket, nearly breaking the front door to his house down in the process of 'opening' it.
Blurs of greens and blues rushed passed him as he raced down the hill leading to his school. Hide finally came upon a knife flung deeply into a rather sad and dying tree, stopping dead in his tracks at the simple yet deep scene. It was then that the fuzzy memories started to rush through his head again, each of the scenes that had only lasted one second- Oh, there goes another crane flying past, Kaneki, haha! Do you think that soul is on its way to heaven? Huh?...Kaneki? What...happened to you? Why did you do that to yourself? Wait, why are you...giving me...this paper crane? I thought we were gonna stay together...forever. Right, Kaneki? Kaneki?
Wait. Kaneki? As in that guy Hide had bumped into a few months ago? Why does this feel like it happened in another life? What the hell?
The dark memory resting heavily in the back of Hide's head was like an old piece of candy left at the bottom of a dusty, empty glass jar. He had no recollection of this happening in this life, if reincarnation was even a thing, that is.
Hide chuckled halfheartedly, as if trying to rid himself from the burden of remembering that certain memory. Whipping out a pen and a single sheet of periwinkle origami paper, Hide scribbled a few words on it before plucking the knife out of the tree with one hand. Ignoring the dried, flaky blood on the tip of the sharp blade, Hide tightened his grip before stabbing the knife through the paper, and into the pathetic tree. That tree, was very much like a heart on many different levels. Hide smiled lightly at his work, flinging his book-bag over his shoulder and heading to school once again.
What are pleasant dreams if we can't make one, but wish to just be one?