This is a chapter that I managed to write up during my free time. I wanted to take a break from all the artwork and some (actually a lot) of the coding I do all while directing the path of the story of my game. Since I am working myself to death, I apologize in advance for any typos.
I'm going to ask for someone to beta this fanfic for me because I find a lot of mistakes after I read my chapters after I upload them. This is a chapter based heavily on character development rather than story development, so I apologize if I let anyone down with this chapter.
I'm going to strive to update once a month. No guarantees, sorry! An editor will speed up the publishing process however. *wink**wink**nudge**nudge*
Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
Chapter 6: Little Steps
It was another hot summer day. It was one of those days in which the sun mercilessly bore down on the castle grounds in which most of the Scout Corps soldiers where currently training. Today was different, however. Since the arrival of the mysterious 'Kaneki Ken', everyone had been wondering how strong he was.
So many soldiers had lazed off of training, claiming to go for a "water break" when in reality they just wanted a glance at how Kaneki fought. They'd crowd near the pitcher of water, quickly stealing a glance behind them to see if Kaneki was training too. They were all heavily disappointed to see the white-haired man positioned under the tree by the pond, reading a book as usual.
"How are we going to get him to show off his moves?" one pondered out loud. Another smacked the back of the former's head while hissing, "Hush! He'll hear you!"
After a roll of the eyes and round of muddled murmurs, everyone was stumped. They racked their brains, trying to think of something to get the man up and showing off his moves.
"Oh! I know!" a short blonde boy piped up. In a split second, a couple dozen gazes where focused on Armin Arlert, the resident war tactic prodigy. The boy shifted uncomfortably from the gazes positioned on him. He'd actually come to drink water, but being unable to resist overhearing, he found himself in the middle of it all.
"I mean— one of us just has to go over and ask for a friendly spar, right?" Armin nervously said. But who was going to fight him? From what the soldiers had heard or had personally witnessed, Kaneki held a subtle and extremely overwhelming strength. There was a moment of silence before a young girl stepped forward.
"I'll go," she blatantly stated. Her ebony hair swished out of her grayish-blue eyes; her glare searching for any that will dare to oppose her judgment. Every stepped down, relieved they would have to be the one to have their asses whipped. Mikasa Ackerman was not considered a genius in every military area for nothing, and besides, it'll show how strong Kaneki truly was, right? That's what they all thought.
She strode towards the lake with a casual pace to ensure that Kaneki would not feel as if she had any malicious intent behind asking for a spar. She carefully laid down a hand on the man's shoulder. Mikasa withdrew her hand when Kaneki casually his expressionless, closed-off eyes off the pale pages in his hands and onto the girl.
"Erm, excuse me. Do you mind if I request for a friendly spar?" Mikasa politely asked. She hated to admit it, but she had panicked ever so slightly when Kaneki did not lift his gaze off of her and reply. She saw through a miniscule crack in the mismatched orbs of his a swirling mass of sadistic and highly violent tendencies fighting to break into reality.
No, Mikasa wasn't even going to try of hide it anymore. She was suddenly very afraid of what lies behind the perfect porcelain mask of his. What was this man? What horrible or twisted things must be hiding behind that mask, caused by his obviously painful past? She had heard from Eren a mere glimpse of what horrors lie in his lifeline. How can he have such monstrous feelings barely suppressed?
She let out a small sigh of relief when his eyes covered up that crack and softened. He let himself show a small melancholic smile. He opened his mouth to respond to her.
Kaneki had wanted to avoid this situation. He'd known that it'll eventually come, but he still wanted to desperately avoid it. He was terribly afraid of what they would think. Would they hate him? Would the despise him, push him away? Kaneki feared that this 'little spar,' as Mikasa had put it, would leave him in despair, his sole purpose for living thus for to slip past his fingers. But refusing would raise suspicion and could lead to the same terrible end.
No, he thought. I cannot let them hate me. I must die loved by all, he insisted. In his internal conflict, he didn't realize the crack in his mask. His great desire to 'die in style' revealed a swirling psychotic mass of suicidal tendencies that wish to kill and devour everything in a brutal manner. As he looked up and into the girl's eyes, he saw her emotions become undone for a split second.
Profound fear. That's what he saw written all over her face. Seeing this, he quickly patched up the imperfection in his impenetrable wall, or so he believed was impenetrable. He softened his eyes to try and cover it up, attempting to pretend what she saw was but an elaborate illusion formed from her fear of the unknown.
Yes, that was it, Kaneki thought. Fear was the answer. He'll dissipate that knowing ball of fear growing in their bits. He won't show them his, ah, extra limbs. He'll use well-known hand-to-hand combat or perhaps some melee techniques to make them feel right at home. Instead of making them fear what he can do, he'll amaze them just a bit. No crazy moves or anything, just something like what he pulled on that one member form Sachi's group.
He stood up, a smooth 'caring' smile present on his face.
"I'd be honored to spar with you, Ackerman-san."
Mikasa gritted her teeth as she slid back words from her opponent's blow. Behind the arms she had pulled up to shield herself, her eyes darted about, searching for a break in his form, or perhaps a falter in his movements. She didn't get the chance to do so as she twisted her body sideways, barely able to escape the jab headed towards her left flank. Mikasa's control on her balance slipped for just a bit as she tried dodged the undercut Kaneki was flinging at her. Suddenly, she saw the 'undercut' swerve to the side.
"What?!"
Kaneki's left foot met her right flank harshly. She'd realized too late that the 'undercut' was but a fluke he'd pulled to build momentum for his next strike. She smacked her shoulder against the ground and quickly rolled away from the foot that landed where her face was a second prior. Using the momentum form the roll, Mikasa flipped herself back onto her feet.
He really doesn't give his opponents a break, huh? Mikasa thought as sprinted towards him, her left arm drawn back, and ready to strike. Not that I wouldn't do the same.
In a split second, Mikasa found herself diving towards empty air. Her eyes widened as she attempted to swivel her body to face and hopefully block the next attack. She raised her arms up in a defensive position, her arms poised and ready to absorb the brunt of the attack.
"Wrong move, Ackerman-san"
Mikasa came to realize what he meant too late. She found herself flying through the air, her back harshly smacking against the ground. Her left wrist was still held by Kaneki's grip.
She gasped for air as the impact had knocked the air out of her lungs. She held her arms to her sides and attempted to sit up the moment he let go of her hand. Mikasa winced as she felt a sharp pang of pain from her lower right rib.
"I'm sorry; I—I went a bit overboard there…" Kaneki slurred his words nervously. "I'll take you to the infirmary… I think I may have fractured your rib of something…"
"No—no, it's alright," Mikasa answered, a bit dazed from the sudden blow.
"I—I'm fine."
Kaneki was tired. No, he was exhausted. Even that was an understatement. Nothing could accurately describe the how long he had worked towards creating the 'most beautiful ceremony' that he wanted centered on himself: the ceremony of death. Oh how he craved the utter silence and subtle weeping over his coffin. Even if he could not possibly know whether the funeral would go exactly as he'd imagined it, he was sure that if he played his cards right, he'll come close.
Well, that was what Kaneki was sure he would get. Ever since waking up, he has had a sever lack of nightmares. The blissful, blank 'dreams,' if they could be called that, was what he wanted to see and feel for the rest of eternity. He desired that feeling of being free from all the debts and regrets that chained him from head to toe.
However, soon after the pounding pain behind his eyes started the other day— the day when he cracked a bit in front of that Jaeger boy—he found himself in a strange nightmare. He found himself spectating a scene that sickened him. He saw himself—or rather an imposter that held his image—acting out a play. His other —Haise? — was cooking omelets for a pack of childish people with hair even more odd than his own.
The fake smile that Haise held (what kind of name was that?) sickened him. It was so impossibly perfect that if it wasn't for the fact that it was the same one that Kaneki had held so many times before, he too would have believed in it. That smile, the smile he presented to the teachers who questioned his bruises, the smile he showed his mother to prove his "faith" in her, being seen spread so delicately across the imposter's face enraged Kaneki.
How is it possible for someone so fake to play out his role in his play? There is only one that could possibly wield that mask of deception so perfectly —so perfectly that even he had trouble reckongnizing it.
In a rage, Kaneki lunged at Haise. His anger released his hold on his kakuja, a pitch-black mask sliding over his face. His arms enclosed the imposter's throat, but he refrained from snapping the other's neck.
Not yet, he told himself. He'll put this fake through pain first. This abomination that is within his grasp will pay dearly for letting his —no, their dreams slip through their fingers like water. As he opened his mouth to whisper hash, chilling words to this fake, Kaneki suddenly found himself back in his room. He was covered in cold sweat, his clothes clinging to him. Kaneki sat up, gasping for air.
He had the impression that that was not a dream.
"Why are you hiding?" A soft, very young voice called out to Kaneki. He paused, taking the time to fold the corner of the page he was reading just a second ago.
"What are you insinuating? This is naught to be found in this forest of golden wood of mine," he replied. His eyes narrowed, his eyes unmoving from the book he held in his hands.
"Of course my friend, the hunter, has everything to find. Your forest of golden wood is especially intriguing; to not spectate such forest would be a shame," another voice replied. Kaneki shifted his gaze to the blond boy that had so cleverly replied. He took notice of Jaeger standing at his side.
"Oho… What is the Eagle doing in my modest forest? Do you have naught to attend to?" Kaneki responded. If Arlert wanted to play word games with him, then so be it.
Arlert let himself smile. He swiftly answered, "But of course the Owl is not to be disrespected. He looks after this aged forest of golden wood, does he not?"
Kaneki lightly scowled. "Der Vogel kämpft sich aus dem Ei. Das Ei ist die Welt."
Arlert blinked. "What?"
"The bird struggles out of the egg. The egg is the world," Kaneki repeated. "But you know, who would be born must first destroy a world."
Kaneki sighed, "'Schicksal und Gemüt sind Namen eines Begriffs.' Das hatte ich nun verstanden."
He snapped his book shut and promptly strode away. Before he finally disappeared, he spoke a single sentence.
"I'm sure you understand, Arlert-san."
After the older man disappeared from sight, Armin replied in a low voice, "Wirklich… Das hatte ich nun verstanden.
He turned to Eren, who had just listened on to an interesting exchange between two people he respected quite a lot.
"Let's go Eren; it seems we can nothing as of now."
Kaneki stared out the window from his bed. The pale moon stared back, its pale visage silently mocking him. The pale moonlight that streamed into the dark confines of his room brought him comfort. As if on impulse, Kaneki found the sudden desire to sing.
"If my left-behind memories become too heavy
I'll throw away my heart….."
Kaneki paused, unsure of how to proceed if anyone heard him. Not that he cared if they heard him singing, but he was afraid they would understand what he was singing.
"Even now, I'm still being reminded of that day's sunset sky
However, if I throw away my bags and even my clothes but I still can't fly…
What will I abandon then?
Even though I understand that someday it'll be blown away,
I want to be remembered by someone…"
Kaneki laughed. What was he doing? It's not as if singing some song he'd heard before will do him any good. His laughter died, turning into sobs. Why am I crying? There's no reason to…
"Even if I tie up the emotions that gushed out,
these wings that flap are broken, because that's just fate.
Everything disappears, and yet I still can't fly…
These memories I once carried…"
Kaneki's voice cracked. He held his hands together tightly and let the tears freely flow.
"Hide… I'm really sorry…I—I didn't do what you asked, even to the very end." He freed one of his hands and clenched the sheets. Tears dripped down, staining the sheets with a grey spot, devoid of anything.
"You know, it's really lonely without you…"
Kaneki sat at his desk, his eyes blankly looking at the blank pages in front of him. A quill was grasped in a breakneck grip, ink dripping from the tip. He pressed the tip in to the paper, writing a Japanese character in months. He made quick strokes; a "染" written on the paper. And afterwards, a "の" and a "心" appeared under the "染".
"Heart of dye," Kaneki whispered to himself. That didn't sound right. He crossed it out with ferocious slashes. He tried again, only this time "心が沈む" appeared on the paper.
It still didn't sound right. Kaneki tried once more. After he was finished, he stared at the delicate characters that nobody but him could read.
"必死," Kaneki read to himself. Hisshi was how it was said. The syllables rolled over his tongue, a feeling of satisfaction flowing over him.
After all, this was what he wanted right? The inevitable death that will take him away from this empty life of suffering. He'll finally be able rest.
"I want to die in style," Kaneki told himself.
"I want that ceremony of complete silence— that sea of people dressed in formal black. I want the overflowing bouquets of red spider lilies lining my coffin; the hearts that will resonate within me," he told himself.
That was what he really wanted, right? Right? Even if he couldn't feel the sadness that will surround him, he'll be happy. Right?
For some unknown reason, Kaneki felt an extreme sorrow pierce his heart.
Hey guys… it's been a while huh… I wanted to update because a lot of people have been requesting it. I've decided to try to update once every month. I know a lot of people want a chapter every two weeks, but I've tried that and it ended up a very bad idea. This chapter, which I tried to write in two weeks, ended up giving me a lot of pressure and even then, it turned out extremely rushed. I spent the rest of my free time (without pressuring myself too much of course) fixing up and adding parts to the chapter. I apologize if the writing and moodset varies too much in this chapter. I tried to transition the character interactions to Kaneki-oriented angst sections as best as I could, but it's hard.
I'm glad Golden Week is finally over. Tokyo Ghoul: Re updated again with another angsty chapter (as if the Mutsuki madness wasn't feely enough). You don't know how much you miss a series until it comes back. That being said, I've decided to stop beating around the bush with Kaneki's current mindset and situation. To be honest with you guys, Kaneki is supposed exactly how he is in TG: re before the internal talk with mental Hide (or whatever the fanbase will decide to call him). That means that he is most certainly still a suicidal little bitch that likes to twist his memories and interpretations of things to convenience himself. Yeah, I'm mad at Kaneki for saying he wants to die even though deep down he really wants to live. I mean, he was so blind that he needed a sub-personality to take the form of Hide to convince Kaneki to live. That's just sad.
Don't even get me started with Mutsuki stuff. As we all know, Mutsuki correlates with Kaneki, and considering his backstory, it might just be Ishida's way of saying: "Yeah Kaneki's mom did that to him and Yamori did rape him". No guarantees, but that's what it's saying to me.
I wrote another rant here that went off topic (to Re: ZERO because I read the light novels and I was talking about the similarities between that and TG) but it was too long so I cut it out.
For those who got confused about the forest of golden wood, it's a play on words. Kaneki's name is made up of the words: "金" and "木" which is gold (as in money) and wood respectively. Armin's name has to do with eagles, enough said. And the German quotes are by Hermann Hesse in his book Demian. Ishida mentioned a "World has been destroyed" in his latest chapter which references to the line "The bird struggles out of the egg. The egg is the world. But who would be born must first destroy a world" that Ishida wrote at the end of his first volume.
As for the song that Kaneki sung, it is a real song. I give credit to the translator and composer of the song. I was listening to a cover of it by Soramin and Sojiro and I decided to include it because the lyrics fit Kaneki's situation very well. Try to guess which song it is! Cookies for those who do.
As for the Japanese characters: just Google it. I'm lazy, ok?
Goodnight. It's 12 o'clock and tomorrow's a school day. Just great.
