Thanks for reading! Finally, more Touka. :)

Warning for talk of substance misuse this chapter.


She really doesn't have time to deal with this.

But Touka's sick of Nishiki and his antics. She's had to put up with him the past three years. "For God's sake, Nishiki, he had a crane dropped on him!"

"Steel beam," Nishiki returns.

Touka shrugs.

"What are you doing out here?" Nishiki taunts.

"None of your business."

"Well, this is none of your business."

"You're right." She shouldn't have intervened. She only wanted to go see her old friends. The holidays are lonely. "But you're a piece of shit, and you're starting to bother me."

Kaneki lets out a wheeze, and leans over again, hurling onto the pavement. Touka's nose wrinkles. The custodial crew is not going to have a fun night.

"If this is about your punk brother, I have no idea what he's been—"

"I don't believe you," Touka states, stepping closer. The putrid stench wafts up to her nostrils. Touka bites her lip to keep from gagging. "I think you should get out of here. Go smoke your skunk plant."

"Jealous?" Nishiki taunts. "Maybe I will sell some to your little brother. Although he seems like he's graduated to better things, doesn't he?"

Touka's fist flies out before she even thinks. Nishiki stumbles back, blood spurting from his nose.

"You bitch!"

Her foot flies out. Her shoe lands in his midsection. Nishiki tumbles back on his ass.

"Get out," Touka tells him, advancing. "And stay the fuck away from my brother."

Nishiki scrambles to his feet, fists clenched. He'd like to deck her, she's sure. He might. He just might. He takes a step closer, and Touka swings.

He dodges. "I'm not going to hit a girl."

Fury ignites. Touka grits her teeth. "I can take anything you have, coward."

It's the magic word for a lot of men. Nishiki's eyes narrow, and Touka's ready. He lunges at her, and her knee connects with his groin. Nishiki gags, stumbling back and clutching his groin. "You—"

"Want more?"

Nishiki glares at her, wiping the blood off his face. "This isn't over, you little bitch."

"Want more?" Touka repeats. Please, give me a reason. She'd love to pummel Nishiki into the ground. Faces fly around her—Ayato, her father, Momgive me a reason, just give me a reason!

"Good luck getting back before curfew," Nishiki taunts Kaneki. He spins on his heel, taking off towards south campus.

"Bye, prick," Touka mutters. Her muscles stay clenched. Her heart pounds. A stone lies on the pavement and she kicks it, sending it flying into a nearby tree.

"Thanks," mumbles Kaneki, getting to his knees.

"I didn't do it for you," Touka returns. "You should know how to defend yourself if you're gonna go to a school like this."

He sits back on his heels, face still green. The sky deepens to a rich dusk. "I'm not going to be like that," Kaneki says. "I'm not like that."

Touka throws back her head and laughs. "Not like me?" Anger simmers inside her. You really think you're better? "This school may be hell for you, but I've lived in hell my whole life. You don't get my sympathy."

He gapes at her. She checks her phone. They've got a half hour before curfew. Kaneki will be fine. "See ya."

"Wait—" calls Kaneki, and then he stops. Sand crunches under her boots as she strides off.

A sob echoes behind her.

Dammit. Touka turns to see him doubles over, fists curled and shoulders shaking. "Do you need me to take you to the nurse's station?" Though it's on north campus.

He looks up at her, tears and snot running down his face. He shakes his head. "I—I d-don't want any—anyone getting in trouble."

Oh, goddammit. Touka watches as he struggles to get to his feet, trying to avoid the puddles of splashed vomit. Fine! She stomps over, reaching down to pull him up by his good arm. "Shouldn't you see someone? In case he re-injured something?"

"I really don't want—anyone getting in trouble," Kaneki repeats, muffling another sob. "He's—my roommate. One of them."

Touka heaves a sigh. "Fine. There's another option then."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Touka grabs him by the waist. He's not that heavy, but he leans on her and she has to shuffle forward. "Let me know if you're going to be sick again. I'm not washing vomit off my clothes."

"'Kay."

Alarm steaks through her. "'Kay, I'm going to be sick now?' Or I'll let you know?"

"Let you know," Kaneki pants.

She yanks out her phone and texts. A row of staff housing lies up ahead, and Irimi promised to meet her by the grove of cherry trees. Touka drops onto the rock wall, easing Kaneki down too. "Don't you have pain meds?"

"Amon has them."

"Oh, right." Your RA. "You should take them when you get back."

He nods.

"Touka!" shouts Irimi, one of the cafeteria workers, as she jogs over. Koma, a large man with a bulbous nose and an easy smile, follows. "We've missed you on west campus."

"Oh!" Koma exclaims when he sees Kaneki. "Who's this?"

"He's the boy who got crushed by that beam, can't you tell, Koma?"

"Can you call Yoshimura?" Touka asks. "I think he should look at Kaneki's shoulder. But he doesn't want Nishiki getting in trouble."

"Did he beat him up?" Irimi demands, her gaze dark. She fumbles for her phone.

Kaneki hunches his shoulders. "Not exactly."

"Did you beat him up?" Koma inquires, nodding at Touka's knuckles. Oh. Blood smears them. She hides her hands under her the folds of her skirt and shrugs.

"Yoshimura's on his way," Irimi announces, hanging up. "I'll go get that cake, Touka. Sorry we won't be able to eat it together, but you can take it back to your dorm room. I'm sure your roommates will love it."

"Thanks," Touka mumbles.

"Who's Yoshimura?" questions Kaneki.

"He manages Anteiku. The snack bar," Koma tells him. "Where did you get hit?"

"He just—grabbed my shoulders, and it hurt, so I threw up," Kaneki ekes out.

Koma tsks. "Well, we'll make sure you're okay. Yoshimura will call Shinohara if he has to."

"I really don't want him finding out," Kaneki protests.

"Not about that," Koma says. "He'd give an excuse, though."

"Huh?" Kaneki blinks.

You really are an idiot, aren't you? Touka thinks. "Some staff actually care enough to protect us."

"Don't say it like that," Koma reproaches. "Shinohara does, as well. And we won't cover for anything you've done, so if Nishiki reports you for assault, Touka, we aren't covering for you. But if you need help, we're here."

"Oh." Kaneki clearly doesn't understand.

"They're nice," Touka says bluntly. "They don't treat us like future criminals."

"Shinohara doesn't."

"No, but his role gives him less freedom than theirs does," Touka says as an older man appears along the path. "Yoshimura!"

"Touka," he greets her, shaking his head at the blood on her knuckles. "And you must be Ken." In his hand he holds two cups of steaming coffee. He presses one into Touka's hands and hands the other to Kaneki.

"For me?"

"For you," Yoshimura confirms.

Kaneki nods. "I don't think he hurt—"

"Well, let's just make sure," Yoshimura says. "I used to be a nurse."

"Do you work in the nurse's station?"

"No," Yoshimura answers, gently moving Kaneki's shoulder around. "Tell me when it hurts. They haven't had any open positions, and I'm quite happy brewing coffee for students."

"It's good coffee," Touka confirms. She scowls at Kaneki. And you'd better drink it. So long as you won't puke it up.

Kaneki takes a sip and offers Yoshimura a weak smile. "Thank you."

"Your shoulder's okay," Yoshimura says. "But I assume you have a follow-up appointment with Banjou next week or so. You should mention that you fell on it, just so he can check and make sure your ligaments and muscles are fine."

Kaneki nods.

Irimi arrives, passing Touka a Tupperware full of chocolate cake. There's enough for Yoriko and Hinami, too. So this time Touka can share with Yoriko instead of the other way around, because Yoriko is always sharing her care packages with Touka. Irimi passes another container to Kaneki. "Here."

"Hm?" Kaneki's mouth parts. "For me?"

"Of course." Irimi smiles. "And now, Touka, you two should hurry back before you miss curfew."

Touka nods, hopping up. Kaneki wobbles to his feet. "You need a hand?"

He shakes his head, keeping his head down as they plod along. "They're really kind."

"They are," Touka allows. Yoshimura's the one who convinced her she should try for better grades, that college was a possibility for her future, that fighting wasn't the only way to survive Re Academy. Although… She flexes her sore knuckles.

Her eyes slide over to Ken Kaneki. He's so quiet. His face is round and his eyes wide, giving him an innocent appearance. Touka doesn't know what happened with Rize before the steel beams fell, but she's willing to bet Kaneki was in no way getting anywhere with Rize, and that they weren't just wandering by. Did she try to rob you? Have some of her friends waiting?

You're going to get eaten alive in this academy. Even with Rize missing, there's Nishiki. And if there weren't Nishiki, there'd be someone else. There's always someone else waiting to prey on anyone who shows the slightest semblance of weakness.

"Thank you for helping me earlier," Kaneki whispers as they cross the small stone bridge over a stream that leads back to south campus.

"Huh?" Touka wrinkles her nose. "I didn't do it for you."

"Why, then?" he inquires. She double-checks to make sure he's not taunting her. Nope, he looks confused. And curious.

"Because I don't want Nishiki Nishio thinking he can push me around all year," Touka says.

"How long have you been here?"

"Five years." Touka brushes her hair away from her eyes and lets out a sigh. "You better step it up, too, if you want to make it here. I know you're injured, but at least learn to fight, or how to walk to not seem like a target."

"I'm not going to fight," Kaneki says, his voice more solid and determined than Touka expects. "I don't think many people in this place are kind. I—I think maybe, if—"

"If you were kind, people would be kind back?" Touka throws her head back and laughs. "You and Yoshimura will get along well. Although not even he's that stupid."

"I'm not stupid."

"Possibly not," Touka admits, something sticky and heavy curdling in her chest. Shame? "But you're naïve."

A smile crosses his face as they approach Dorm Block 20. "Thank you again."

Stop being nice to me! What can I do? Or say? "I can teach you how to fight. When your shoulder's healed."

He shakes his head.

"You might be surprised when you have to use it," Touka says. "And we wouldn't really be fighting. It'd just be practice."

Kaneki chews his lip. "I'll think about it."

Touka nods as she shoves the door open. "I'm coming up with you," she says as they enter the stairway. "I need to talk to my brother."

"Good night." Kaneki waves as she stops by the third floor entrance.

"Sleep well," Touka says. Really? That doesn't even sound like her. She knocks.

"You're not supposed to be on this floor," the RA, Seidou Takizawa, greets her. A pencil's stuck behind his ear.

"I want to talk to my brother," Touka requests. Nishiki's words from earlier echo in her ears. What are you up to, Ayato? He's refused to meet with Yoshimura, Irimi, and Koma so far this year.

"Why bother? They're no one special," he scoffed when she caught him skulking outside the literature classroom during lunch today.

"You couldn't text him to meet you in the lounge?"

She shrugs. "He might not have agreed."

Seidou's eyebrows rise. "Fair enough. I'll get him."

"Thank you." Touka leans back against the wall. The white paint flecks off, and the gray of the metal stairway bubbles.

The door opens again, and a scowling Ayato, dressed all in black and with his hair dangling scraggly around his face, emerges. "What?"

"Am I interrupting your homework?" Touka doubts Ayato's so much as opened a book. She asked her junior roommate how he's doing in his classes, and Hinami reported he fell asleep in chemistry.

Ayato snorts.

"Yoshimura—"

"Don't tell me he asked about me."

"No, we had a situation to deal with." Touka keeps her voice low.

Ayato's eyes narrow as he takes in her knuckles. "Did someone hit you?"

"Don't pretend you care."

Ayato's eyes flash. "Then why are you here?"

"Because," Touka says. "You never respond to my texts, and you ignore me in the hallways except when I corner you—"

"You might be older, but you're not Mom, or Dad," Ayato says. "I have my own life to live, sis."

What the hell is wrong with you? Touka could slap him. "And what's taking up all your time? I know you missed curfew yesterday. And what were you doing around the literature section at lunch? Nishiki said—"

"You can't believe anything that serpent says," Ayato says, rolling his eyes.

Stop making me seem like an idiot! Touka clenches her fists. "Can't I? Ayato, if you get caught for—"

"For what?" he taunts. "Say it, Touka."

"Are you on drugs?"

He throws his head back and laughs.

"You think this is funny?" Touka hisses. "I should—"

The door above them creaks open. Footsteps echo. Both of them immediately shut their mouths and study at their shoes. We're still so alike, Touka thinks, her chest aching.

"What are you doing out here?" demands the voice of the fourth floor RA. Amon.

"We have Seidou's permission," Touka says, avoiding Amon's eyes.

"Fine." He pushes the door open, entering Ayato's floor.

"My roommate's probably setting things on fire again," Ayato says. "I better go."

"Answer my damn question first, Ayato!" Although he doesn't need to. Dad would be so—

His lips curve in a joyless smile. "I wish I was. It'd be nice to escape this shithole, even if it was only in my mind."

My God, could you be any more melodramatic?

And you're a liar.

Ayato stalks through the door without saying good night.


"What happened this time?" Akira asks via Facetime. Girls aren't allowed on boys' floors without permission.

"Did you call her?" Seidou snaps.

Amon leans against Seidou's door. "We are a team. Shinohara said so."

Seidou's face grows red. His room's fairly bland, no real decorations except a series of middle school trophies and certificates from an honor society displayed on the bookshelf. A navy blue bedspread lies dull on his bed, and he sits in his desk chair, back straight like he's at a meeting.

"I presume it has something to do with that Suzuya kid," Akira comments as if she didn't hear Seidou's rude comments. "Did he light something else on fire?"

"Yeah. His history homework, and then he put his fingers in it." Seidou shudders.

He what? "Did you take him to the nurse's station?" demands Amon.

"He wasn't hurt. Very much. Band-aids can take care of it, but he refused them because he seems to enjoy stressing everyone out."

Amon doubts that's true, but he doesn't contradict Seidou. "Does he have friends?"

"Are you kidding? Between him and his roommate, I'm surprised Dorm Block 20 hasn't exploded yet. Whoever decided to put them together clearly just wants to watch the world burn." Seidou leans over, head in his hands, and a rock drops in Amon's stomach.

You think you're failing.

"How are the other three?" Akira asks.

"They're good kids," Seidou admits. "Shirazu's the friendliest of my charges by far, and Mutsuki's so quiet—it's hard to connect with him though—and Urie. He's always studying or painting. But they don't make any trouble."

But you can't connect with any of them, can you? "It's okay," Amon says. "You know, one of my charges almost got killed before the year even started. Hide's friendly, but it's only a matter of time before I bust Nishiki for something. And Tsukiyama and Kanae are—odd."

"Yeah, we have our classes together," Seidou says with a snort.

"I guess I can't really complain," Akira says. "My roommate's lovely, and—well, I guess I have to personally drag Saiko out of bed every morning, and even then she's usually late which means I'm usually late, though I get a pass, and Kurona talks to her sister even though her sister's—you know. Not here anymore."

Dead. Amon sighs. He remembers Kurona and Nashiro as freshmen, chasing him around because he took time to help them make the soccer team. Nashiro, what happened to you?

He already knows about their parents' murders. It's so wrong, for someone to have lost so much. When Akira told him, he felt sick.

This world is wrong. We're all here because we've lost.

"But they're sweet too," Akira continues. "Kurona's smart, and passionate, and determined to get into med school—Dr. Kanou's kind of mentoring her, and Saiko's kind and funny. The other three are—harder to connect with."

"I don't think it's easy for any of us," Amon says, watching Seidou.

Seidou leans forward, covering his face. "But I really, really don't know what to do about Juuzou."

"He's good at art," comments Akira. "Isn't he?"

"Sure. If stitching his own skin counts as art. He says he doesn't feel pain. Like, at all, and frankly I believe him."

"Why not tell him he's good at art?" Amon asks. "He's taking Uta's class, right? Maybe try and—connect over that?"

Seidou sighs. "I'll try. Thanks."

"Has Shirazu tried to befriend him?" Akira wants to know.

Seidou rolls his eyes. "Like I said already, Juuzou talks to no one with anything other than sadistic nastiness except Shinohara. He's the only one who Juuzou seems to like, and frankly not all that much. But Shinohara seems to genuinely like him, asking to see his assignments and schedule and such. I don't get why he caters to such a freak."

"Well, that attitude's not going to help," Amon snaps.

"Sewing your own skin is not normal."

"Really," Akira says. "Very few here are really normal."

"Maybe you overestimate your own normalcy," Amon suggests.

"Huh?" Seidou glares.

"It's true," Amon says, the cross heavy around his neck. "None of us would be here if our lives were—picturesque. Except Akira."

"You don't know as much as you think," Akira says quietly.

Seidou grips the edge of his desk. The conversation's clearly not sitting well with him.

"We've got time to get to know each other," Amon says. "And Seidou, you have time with your charges. I think you'll do well."

Seidou stiffens. He cocks his head as if to say why?

"You know when to ask for help," Amon says simply.