"You're part of a gang?" he said, his voice growing comically high-pitched at the last word.

Seated at the edge of the table he was staring at the two people he had considered himself pretty close to; and it was as if he was looking at them for the first time in his life. Touka was shifting nervously from one foot to the other and seemed ready to either run or scream. Her jaw was clenched sternly, her eyebrows knit together. Nishiki on the other hand was staring at the two of them calmly, his head resting on the back of the sofa from where he lazed.

"You're not?" Nishiki threw out casually and he could almost feel his lips twitch with amusement and frustration. It felt like a spark, slowly igniting into something more and he pushed it down. He couldn't get angry; he couldn't let his composure crack.

"You specifically told me," he managed without gritting his teeth, and Nishiki leaned forward looking at him with mock interest.

"To stay out of trouble." He ground out, a smile that was too sweet to be real plastered on his lips. He knew they could tell. He knew that Touka's quiet was going to crack soon, and he knew that Nishiki- that bastard- was getting nervous from the way he was toying with his fingers. But he knew that they knew he was stretched thin.

And the worst part was that he was never stretched this thin. He was never this wound up. And he never cared this much.

Yet here he was. Anger gnawing its way up his throat as he stopped himself from screaming uncontrollably.

At him.

At everyone around him.

At Kaneki.

He wanted to scream.

Instead he gathered his thoughts and continued smiling.

"And you're part of the ghouls no less," he continued, his voice strained.

Nishki smirked.

That bastard

"You caught us man."

If humans were to change colour to mirror their emotions he would have assumed he would be a constant yellow. Jarring, bright and in your face. He liked it, and he knew that a lot of people didn't, it was too bold, too annoying, too bright. But it was also interesting and soothing and held its place firmly in the colour wheel. However if he was a constant yellow, currently he would be a yellow nearing red, because he was unbelievably frustrated.

So fucking frustrated.

"Yeah, I did. What's going on?"

There was silence, unsteady, sweaty and uncomfortable silence.

"We're trying to find the suspected killer."

Touka finally spoke up; her eyes focused on him, wavering ever so slightly. It was as if she had resolved to make herself as steely and unconcerned as possible. As if she had no feelings.

Which was pointless, he decided. She was the person who was filled to the brim with emotion and it was a fruitless effort trying to put a lid on them. They would over flow, the lid would fall off.

And he was waiting for it to happen.

He would be the cause that leads to that effect, and he supposed he was past caring about how manipulative he was.

After all-

He was what he was.


"You know how you kinda watch people and get to know more about them?" Hide asked, his face scrunched up thoughtfully.

They were shoulder to shoulder, staring at the sky in companionable silence.

Kaneki shot him a confused look and shrugged.

"Explain."

Hide huffed and let out a quiet laugh at his abruptness.

How like Kaneki, he thought fondly.

A small crease had appeared between those snowy brows and he looked at Hide with undisguised confusion.

"I try to get to know people you know," Hide started warily.

"Doesn't everyone?" Kaneki pointed out, cutting him off mid-sentence.

He elbowed him playfully and didn't miss the small smile playing on Kaneki's lips. He was such a fucking goner honestly.

"No, listen. Like- I look at their body language. Their- everything?" he tried, finishing with an uncomfortable shrug, eyeing Kaneki nervously. He expected a little more pondering, more contemplation on his part when approaching this taboo topic, however between the two of them Kaneki looks more thoughtful, nodding at him to continue.

That was his cue. He turned towards the sky, silently thanking any entity out there that it wasn't raining.

Licking his lips he gathers himself, suddenly nervous.

"And it's like I take parts of them you know. To be more like them. To fit in with them." His eyes trailed over a particularly fluffy cloud, shaped like a deformed sword.

"It's like I'm a piece of paper and I'm ripping myself to shreds and asking everyone to pour their ink over me. So that I'm the same colour as them. So sometimes I think that, I'm just not a real person anymore. I'm weird colourful, shredded paper."

What a fucked up analogy.

There's silence, and his eyes were firmly fixed on the sky as he tried to come to terms with the fact that he had said so much. Probably too much.

That he revealed such an oddly intimate part of himself to this guy that he had barely known three months.

"Did you do that with me?" Kaneki asked after a while, his voice hushed.

He turned away from the sky, back to Kaneki. An unconscious part of his mind telling him that the sky held nothing over Kaneki. But when his mind focused on the question at hand he flushed.

If Kaneki had been any sort of ink he would gladly submerge himself in it.

Alas.

"How could I have? You're like a blank slate Kaneki."

And he had been.

Curiously attractive.

Leaking secrets and dropping subtle traces of his being wherever he went.

Like a withering flower.

But for Hide he had been a blank slate.

And he had ended up being just Hide for Kaneki.


"We're trying to hunt the killer."

She was fiddling with the hem of her jacket, which wasn't fastened properly he noted absent-mindedly. Nishiki stiffened as soon as she said that and threw a look that screamed 'Shut up' her way.

She pointedly ignored him, her eyes focused on Hide who was precariously balancing on the edge of her small table.

He tapped his fingers on his knee, searching her expression.

"Kaneki." He supplied, his voice coming out more uncertain than he would have liked.

He knew it was true.

Nothing else made sense.

And he was a man of logic.

And he had to protect his parents.

Nishiki snorted at his admission and he whipped his head around to glare at him. Was everything a joke to that man that excluded his girlfriend and his stomach?

Everything was getting on his nerves, Nishiki most of all. He just didn't know when the fuck to stop. And his mental voice was scarily starting to sound more and more like Touka with each passing minute.

He turned to Touka, staring at her.

"Is Kaneki the killer?" he asked quietly.

He wasn't the killer.

He wasn't the killer.

He wasn't the killer.

It was as if time stopped for him, each second ticking by painstakingly slowly.

And finally Touka let out a hushed: "No."

And he could breathe again.


"Hey. Hey Kaneki," a soft voice filtered through his tired mind and he blinked trying to grasp his surroundings. His eyes fell shut again, the night sky imprinted behind his lids.

Right.

He was at the park. He was at their park, and they weren't supposed to meet that day, he was sure of it. So wait…

Why was Hide here?

Why was it that he could see stars behind his closed eyes?

It wasn't day time?

No. No it wasn't. He distinctly remembered coming here at night after…

He opened his eyes and was met with Hide's face four centimeters away from his own. His breath hitched.

"What are you doing here?"

His voice was hoarse to his own ears and he winced trying to discreetly clear his throat. Hide cocked an eyebrow at him, and sat across from him.

"I was walking to Anteiku, the place Touka works," Hide supplied, grinning brightly. And that smile washed over him like a tide of comfort and, he realized he wanted to drown. Suddenly Hide's fingers were brushing over the side of his mouth and he winced, retreating hurriedly, leaving those warm fingers hovering awkwardly in the air.

"Is it… bruised?" Hide asked, staring at his lips.

And he winced again, trying to shove down the resurfacing memory of what hadn't particularly been the most comfortable moment of his life. It had paid well, but for the violation he felt afterwards he was starting to wonder whether it really was worth it or not.

He felt dirty.

He felt ready to throw up thinking about it.

But after having done so twice, there was nothing left to throw up and he was just left in the current nauseous state he was in.

"Kaneki, you're really pale," now Hide's hand was pressed against his clammy forehead, and he found himself leaning into that comforting touch.

He was so tired.

And soon he found himself pressed against the unassuming man; and Hide's arms were around him, and his own were grasping the back of his yellow jacket. He felt clean in those arms. He felt good.

That's when it had first hit him.

He was in love.

"I write poetry," he mumbled into Hide's shoulder, a spur of the moment comment- but it was more than that. And he knew that Hide knew.

He was willingly opening up to him.

He could feel the other boy's smile against him.

"Yeah?" A soft laugh, music to his ears. "Tell me more."


"So Kaneki isn't the killer?" he repeated for what must have been the fourth time.

Touka rolled her eyes at him.

"No he isn't." She repeated, her voice impatient. Understandable since she was getting tired of his repetitive question.

His mind was racing.

"So then, me ranting and pacing at you, screaming that he could have been the killer was pointless?! Like you could have thrown me a bone. You could've been like- hey bud, pal, my bestie: Kaneki isn't the killer," he ranted, pacing back and forth in front of her.

It was as if floodgates had been opened and he was relieved.

So relieved.

And he was rambling away his relief.

Nishiki looked uncomfortable enough to melt into the ground.

"I didn't know he had the hots for snowball."

Touka laughed weakly and he glared at Nishiki, stopping in his concentrated pacing.

"I don't understand then. The easiest bet was that the killers were the Ghouls? But you guys…" he trailed off, eyeing them as Touka glared at him with venomous defiance.

"Does this shit head think we're going around killing people?" Nishiki questioned, letting out a humorless laugh and Hide felt a pang of guilt.

"I never said that," he mumbled, suddenly embarrassed. He had done the same with Kaneki and the small pang of guilt started spreading through his chest.

"Right." the strawberry blonde man laughed.

Before Hide could open his mouth to retort to Nishiki, stating that he was right to be think he was right, because he was! Touka's phone started to ring, startling everyone in the room and she pulled it out, followed by a panicked: "Shit!"

"Hello?"

Hide strained his ears, watching Touka's expression distort into something that was a cross between disgust and pity.

There was no sound other than the hushed voice from the phone's speaker and their breathing.

"Alright. Thank you." Silence. "I'll tell Nishiki."

When she lowered the phone, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. She slumped back onto the small table, letting out a shaky breath. Nishiki didn't move, his eyes trained on her.

Hide didn't speak either, waiting for her to start talking on her own accord.

It hit him that he had previously debated manipulating her feelings to get her to give him the information he wanted, and he realized what a disgusting thought that had been. He couldn't do that anymore. He couldn't let that blackened toxic possessiveness take control of him every time he felt control leave him. He couldn't let his morbid thinking lead him down that twisted road.

"Kaneki cancelled." She finally breathed out, and he felt like there was an invisible weight behind her words he couldn't quite decipher. From the way Nishiki stiffened ever so slightly his fears we re-confirmed.

"His job?" Nishiki asked, his voice falling from hard, growing almost gentle at 'job.' He felt his heart sink at the words and he didn't quite know how to explain it, or piece it together. He just knew it wasn't good. And Nishiki sounded like he was touching upon a fragile topic with a voice he didn't expect the older man to be capable of producing.

Touka nodded slightly and for a moment he thought something drastic would happen; like she would cry, or Nishiki would surge forward and hug her. But none of those events occurred, instead they stayed in their respective spaces in silence, thinking, trying to piece together their thoughts.

"I'm going to go," Nishiki said, abruptly standing up and fixing his glasses. What an awkward bastard. "Your parents are sight seeing with Kimi so you don't need to worry about boring them."

He strode past Hide, casting a long-suffering look at Touka's back, and then he glanced at Hide.

And without a word he was out of the door, letting in cool air from outside, which was promptly cut off with a loud thud as the door slammed shut behind him.

Then there were two.


He had come to the conclusion a while back that when he and Hide conversed it didn't make sense and there was usually never a single train of thought.

They were sitting across from each other in the library, sheltered from the heavy rain. Hide was quietly humming to himself and writing his essay and Kaneki was trying to read- trying being the key word- seeing as he kept getting distracted by the pitter patter of the rain beating against the glass pane.

And he couldn't help but think about how domestic everything felt. Settled in beside Hide and it was as if they had been friends forever and nothing bad had happened outside their bubble, and it just alluded him how he could feel comfortable with someone he had barely known four weeks but still felt uncomfortable around people he had known for years.

And maybe the rain was creating a sense of melancholy within him or maybe it was his inner romanticist that was just creating a crescendo of yearning that was rising with each passing breath.

But he knew he shouldn't feel that way. He knew he should crush it because it didn't matter.

He knew it shouldn't feel like the fabric of space and time was ripping every time Hide half hugged him awkwardly and made his way home, and even if that was an exaggeration he shouldn't feel the way he did.

He knew there would be a day the whole world would sink into imminent darkness and nothing he was or would be would matter and this shouldn't matter either- but it did, because the fall of the universe, while a pretty picture, was not a pretty thought.

"Woah! What's with that face Kaneki?"

He jolted out of his daydream at hearing Hide's loud voice in the silence. He made a shushing motion and Hide shrugged, grinning sheepishly.

"So is the window really that interesting?" Hide repeated, this time lowering his headphones and leaning towards him.

He shook his head slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Did you know we're made up of stardust?" he asked, knowing full well that what he had just said made no sense. Yet he could see he had piqued Hide's interest.

"That sounds poetic."

He nodded at his assertion.

"It is, but eventually there won't be enough cosmic matter left to make stars and stars are dying faster than they're being born, and everything will all be in darkness. And nothing will matter." He paused to catch his breath, "And I guess that reiterates the point of our existence. Nothing will matter."

Hide sighed, and straightened his shoulders.

"Negative, because everything is perfectly recycled in the universe and it knows no beginning or end, and maybe we'll face a big freeze with stars running out of gas to burn on," he started calmly, "But soon, eventually another big bang would occur.

Because the big bang is theorized to occur at the end of another universe." He ended his point by grinning at him as if this was the most casual conversation ever.

Kaneki could feel his heart beat speeding up.

"But in five million years nothing will matter. If there is a Big Bang this won't matter." He tried, his argument sounding feeble to his own ears, because what Hide had said, that made sense.

"Fourteen billion years of everything matters. It's something and that's what matters, everything matters."

His mouth felt dry.

"But for how long?"

Hide was staring at his hands: "Forever-"

"Because we last a few more decades and that's that," Kaneki continued, the feeling of hopelessness and inescapable fondness for Hide overcoming him.

"No we don't, we live forever our molecules never disintegrate. They change to form new things. So, we live forever." Hide looked up at him and winked, "Everything is immortal in a way."

He licked his lips: "It never fades?" His voice sounded small.

"Matter can neither be created nor destroyed- Only change."

It was as if a blindfold had been pulled off and he could finally see.

"You're saying we're made of Hitler, and Ghandi, and Jesus, and Stalin?" He was whispering.

"Parts of them, and parts of Mother Teresa, and countless serial killers. Good and bad."

Did Hide even know how profound he was being? How he was making his thoughts crash around him and building up newer, and more hopeful ones? Did Hide know how he was affecting him?

Of course not.

"That's a nice thought." He said finally.

Hide grinned.

"You're welcome."


She was leaning onto him and they were staring at her wall, seated on the sofa, like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But it genuinely wasn't.

He was well acquainted with this particular pale blue wall though, the paint was peeling on the top left corner and there were several small cracks and a stain from when Touka had thrown a juice carton and it had exploded.

"I'm sorry," Hide said, their fingers intertwining slowly and she sighed, her breath grazing his neck.

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, her voice tired.

"I don't know but you want to hear it."

He was suddenly too tired, the adrenaline from his relief had died down and he was tired. And he wanted her to know that he meant his apology, and he wanted her to feel better because he didn't like her subdued and forlorn. He didn't like her sad silence. And to his relief she let out a startled laugh.

"Fucking weirdo."

He smiled, "You love me."

"I hate you."

There was silence, before her hand tightened around his and she inched closer. He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand reassuringly.

"I love you." It sounded vulnerable, and he wanted to pull her close.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked her quietly.

"Why are you?" She retorted.

He bit his lip, because that was it. He didn't know.

Why was he doing all of this?

"I think I have a crush." Hide said light-heartedly.

He finally admitted it. Surely it was an infatuation.

But he finally said it out loud and that was an achievement in his book.

She snorted in response.

"Fuck, you could've fooled me," her tone was bitingly sarcastic.

"Touka," he hesitated. Her hand tightened around his, and he squeezed it.

"I need to join the Ghouls."


Kimi was having fun, entranced by the city she had spent most of her life in. And Hide's parents were fun and sweet and bright like their son- although she would never admit that.

However she was a bit too caught up in the city, and she was a bit too caught up in the enjoyment. She didn't really notice the elders exchanging glances and hurriedly leaving in favour of meeting a family friend they hadn't seen in years.

Of course it was reasonable.

And Kimi nodded politely, and bid them goodbye as they boarded the train and she returned to having fun.


It had always seemed like such a lovely belief to him- the idea of God. Someone that watches over you constantly and loved you. He loved you enough to place these restrictions, on you, on your life. And these were reasonable restrictions. Don't lie. Don't kill.

Don't hurt others intentionally.

But when it came to life it was very hard, if not near impossible to follow through with these. Everyone lied.

Everyone lied.

So many deaths, so many murders took place for self righteous reasons, and were those justified?

But then again everyone died, so would it really matter how quickly or how late in life they died?

Was there anyone that got through their lives unhurt by others, more so those they loved? Maybe he was slightly biased in his judgment when it came to that particular subject.

However, it wasn't as if he was opposed to the belief that someone was watching over you, rather he found the concept fascinating. To believe someone was watching over you, and loving you eternally and irrevocably.

It seemed soothing.

Yet absurd.

Irrevocable love in his life had been strange. Painful.

Irrevocable love felt like his lungs were inhaling nicotine and instead of dying from the black coating they were just writhing and choking and begging to inhale more. And they hurt. But they hurt so nicely. And maybe he was an emotional masochist when it came to love, but it was only ever good when he was caught in the high of being loved.

Like with his mother.

A love he was slowly killing himself for, and enjoying his own downfall.

He had tried. He truly had.

He had tried his best not to love at all, and he knew it was going to be hard, but he had felt so ready. He had felt so hurt all the time, and so guarded and he had felt that he knew how to keep himself best guarded. Not let his walls down. Surround himself in blood, and sex, and poetry. The perfect tragic protagonist who would not let anyone in.

But loving Hide was just so easy.

He made it so easy.

And it was just unfair.

It wasn't as if Hide had rejected him. No.

It was just that Hide hadn't trusted him, had been wary of him. And Kaneki knew he hadn't given much reason for Hide to think otherwise but he had just hoped and he had hoped so much and he hadn't thought it would come crashing down. And now that it was, the reality was so painful.

And in his haze he brokenly stumbled to the client he was supposed to attend to.


It was dark he noted absent-mindedly, his face throbbing from where he had been struck. Hide was okay though.

He was relieved, and he wanted to laugh.

Because he was in feminine leather jacket, his face hidden behind an old scarf, and he was walking to the fourteenth ward.

And he had a resolve. He had a resolve, and it involved Kaneki.

It involved a large part of Kaneki.

And looking at the cloudy sky, he realized with a grin, he had never felt more free.


He hadn't signed up for this. He had most definitely not signed up for this.

There were rules at his job. There was a small set of rules, and this was most definitely going against them. And he was stuck. He was stuck, and his mind felt hazy, and he was tied, and a sense of fear was crawling up his skin.

Maybe he deserved this.

He yelped out in pain when he felt his back being struck, and there was a growl. And it hurt. It hurt more than when his aunt had hit him, and the fact that he was blindfolded and confused and scared made it hurt more. His skin was burning so badly, and it was starting to hurt to breathe.

"Scream."

He did. And his legs gave way, and it felt as if along with his heart his body was being ripped apart.

And he screamed again.

And there was a cacophony of laughter, and he felt as if he was drowning in it.

He screamed, spluttering, coughing and trying to compose himself.

"He screams louder than that kid boss done in."

It was as if there was a sheet of film between him and the men, but he was vaguely aware of their words.

Then there was agony. His body was shaking, and he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop the scream that ripped itself from his throat. And he couldn't do anything as he weakly tugged at the restraints.

He didn't sign up for- he couldn't… Did he deserve this?

"Boss gives me the creeps, with his fingers cracking and shit." He could barely hear them. The laughter, the groans, his screams rang in his ears.

He was going to faint. He was going to pass out at any second.

He gritted his teeth

It hurt because he was just so fucking vulnerable.

"Don't let him hear you say that. Don't call him boss either."

And he was vulnerable because of him.

Hide.

He could taste blood.

"What do we call him?"

Another scream.

More laughter.

A well orchestrated performance.

"Jason."

He screamed.


He wasn't sure how long he lay there after the men left, but when the sun started to rise, he moved his protesting muscles of the ground and somehow managed to get on his feet.

He limped through the mostly empty bar. He could see a couple of people slumped over tables, and he purposely avoided making eye contact with Uta, who was practically boring holes into his back with his intense gaze.

He wanted to collapse, he wanted to go somewhere where he wouldn't be found and just sleep.

Sleep forever.

He finally exited the hellhole, his legs shaking, and he grabbed onto the wall for support. He hadn't even showered, just thrown on the first article of clothing that would make him decent and left.

He was so disgusting.

He was gasping softly and he struggled to compose himself.

Everything just hurt.

"Kaneki?"

He raised his eyes, and no, it couldn't be. Hide? Hide was here.

Why was Hide here?

Why was he looking at him so tenderly, with so much concern?

Why was he here at such a bad time?

He thought he was the killer.

He thought Kaneki was the killer when in reality the killer was Kaneki's worst nightmare.

He could feel his face falling.

"Hide." His voice cracked, and Hide's arms were around him in an instant.

And he was clutching onto him, his fingers digging into Hide's arms, and he was sobbing. Loud, unpleasant, agonized and heart wrenching sobs.

And it was such a relief.

To be weeping.


I try to scream and I try to cry,

And every inch of my skin and every pore of my body,

Screams,

To drown,

And to die.

My brain knows and my heart understands,

There are flaws in me and my love.

The love that holds me close,

Makes me choke, and helps me breathe.

And I drown, and writhe-

I want to

Fly.