Gentle fingers stroking her forehead and cheek awakened her. Keeping her eyes closed, Miyu sighed while snuggling deeper into the soft down comforter surrounding her like a cocoon.
"Comfy?" asked a low, breathy voice definitely not belonging to her boyfriend.
Shit!, Miyu screamed inside her head, unable to utter a sound. She grunted and squeezed her eyes shut tighter, pretending to be unfazed by the shock of hearing that voice. That voice belonged to Ken Kaneki. How the fuck did he get into the apartment?
"What are you doing here, Ken?" she inquired. Her runaway heart pounded so loudly in her ears she hoped she would be able to hear his answer.
"Urie told me you have been ill. I wanted to come by and see you. I was worried," he said, continuing to stroke her forehead with his fingertips. "Your fever has gone down."
"How long have you been here?" She grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away having grown exceedingly uncomfortable being petted by the man.
"Long enough to hear you cry out for Urie in your sleep several times," he replied, twisting free of her grip.
Her eyes opened wide to give him a withering glare.
"Oh," he gasped genuinely surprised. "I haven't seen those beautiful yellow eyes of yours in a long time. The color always reminded me of a goldenrod."
He smiled at her, his face aglow in the muted orange afternoon light illuminating the room. He was wearing glasses. Those are new. Such an interesting part of his transformation. The white haired Ken Kaneki she knew never wore glasses.
"A weed? That's flattering," she muttered irritably, pushing herself up to a sitting position.
"Yes, a weed. You're like a weed. Wild, unpredictable, growing wherever you please, however you please. Unwanted and despised by some, but lovely as a flower to others," he explained quite poetically, allowing her to see a bit of the person he used to be before...before hell invaded his life.
"Does Urie know you're here?" she asked.
"What do you think?" he retorted.
Of course not.
"What are you doing here?" she repeated, tucking the puffy white comforter around her body. She had left the windows open before lying down for a nap, and the air had cooled considerably.
"I brought you something," he said, handing her a white cardboard bowl.
Miyu lifted the bowl close to her nose, sniffing at the tiny hole in the plastic lid. She smelled cinnamon and nutmeg.
"Butternut squash soup. Your favorite in autumn," he said, handing her a spoon from the small brown paper bag in his hand.
"I can't believe you remembered that," she murmured, lifting off the lid to reveal the creamy orange soup. Taking the spoon, the redirected the conversation again. "This is more than a mere social visit or a wellness check on my behalf. What do you want Ken?"
"Urie has made a rather inconvenient request," he answered, his smile fading. "But I understand why. He's worried about you and wants to be with you when you return home to recover."
"I asked him not to. I told him he would never get the time off," she rejoined offhandedly, blowing on the spoonful of steaming soup. Apparently he got it from Ms. Tokoyama's place down the block for it to still be this hot.
"I'll give it to him," Kaneki said, quickly adding, "but..."
Her entire body tensed. She almost choked in her soup. But what?
"There's something I want from you in return."
"From me?" she mumbled around the spoon in her mouth. Her eyes raised to meet his dull gray graphite irises.
"I want you to be a member of my team."
"I told Arima no...several times. What makes you think I'm going to tell you yes?"
"Because I'll make you Urie's partner. I'm promoting him to captain of my team. He will need someone to watch his back. I want that person to be you."
Miyu opened her mouth to speak, but he raised his finger to politely quiet her.
"I'll allow you to work on a consultant basis. Work on the cases you want, refuse the ones you don't. You'll be there to protect your boyfriend."
That deal sounded too good to be true. How dare he try to blackmail her into coming back to the CCG? Did he really think she would perform her job well being forced to do it? What game was he playing?
"Kuki has gotten along fine without me. He's quite strong and powerful in his own right. It offends me that you would deem him weak and in need of my protection," she growled, putting the lid back on the soup and setting it on the bedside table. She had lost her appetite.
"You should eat. You need to regain your strength," he said, reaching for the food.
"Kaneki, stop," she snapped at him. "Don't try to manipulate me. It pisses me off."
"Yes, well, I suppose you can't beat a master at her own game," he muttered, standing up from sitting on the bed. He walked away from her, going to stand in front of one of the windows.
Miyu folded her hands in her lap, keeping her mouth shut despite wanting to yell at him. She also wanted to push him out the door to get him the hell out of her apartment.
Kaneki pulled back the curtain, gazing outside as if he were expecting someone. Probably checking for Urie. His being there would be awkward for all them. Naturally, he would leave it to her to discuss their little arrangement.
An evil thought occurred to her. For convenience, she could push Kaneki out of the window. He would not be hurt. Like a cat, he would land on his feet. An onslaught of guilt brought her back to her senses.
Miyu inhaled deeply, mustering her patience. She had no choice but to hear him out. With the bullshit out of the way, they could finally get to the point of this annoying conversation and end it.
"I'll allow Urie the time off if you come back to work on my team," he stated bluntly.
"What if I say no?" she asked.
"We both know if I disapprove of his leave, he will go anyway. Then he will be in violation of his contract. He will be retrieved and returned directly to me," he answered simply, dropping the curtain to allow it to billow in the breeze.
Miyu gulped. "And what then?"
"He will be subjected to intensive retraining."
Intensive retraining: the fancy phrase for brainwashing.
"If intensive retraining fails, subject will be disposed of due to being deemed out of compliance and unfit for the Quinx program," she finished as if reading the words from the contract.
Miyu had read the contract years ago. Arima had acted with transparency, giving her full disclosure before she agreed to work with him. However, she did not have to sign the contract, only the members of the specialized squad. The CCG asked so much of those young men and women yet promised them nothing in return.
She studied the young man at the window. He had been the guinea pig for the intensive retraining. No one cared that the brainwashing did not work and caused more damage than it fixed. She respected Ken Kaneki for being truthful, despite being manipulative. As he had said, he had learned from a master but could not beat her at her own game.
"Do I really have a choice?" she asked.
"You do," he answered, coming back to sit on the bed.
Miyu inadvertently jumped when his knee touched her hip despite barely being able to feel it through the thick material covering her body. Her eyes reluctantly met his.
"We always have a choice. However, sometimes we have to take into account the consequences. We have to decide what we can live with." He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "And what we can live without. I know you can't see it now, but I'm doing this to protect the both of you."
"Yeah, sure. If you say so," she sighed in frustration, lowering her eyes from his.
"Oh, and don't tell Urie about the promotion. I'll leave that as a surprise for him when he comes back. We will have so many reasons to celebrate upon your return."
"Uh huh," she mumbled, pulling the comforter more securely around her to ward off the bone deep chill that seized her.
"Don't worry. It won't be as bad as you think. I believe you might even enjoy working on my team," he said, placing his hand on her cheek. "I'm not your enemy. I don't hate you."
"Well, isn't that comforting?" The words sounded more sarcastic than she had intended them to.
When he leaned toward her, she inhaled sharply. His lips pressed a kissed to her forehead.
"I've missed you, Mo-" He stopped himself before he called her by the nickname she hated. "I'll call you big sister. Is that okay?"
"Sure. Why not?" she scoffed, giving him a weak smile. "At least it's better than mother."
They both laughed lightly to allow the oppressive mood to lift.
Kaneki took her hand in his, squeezing it as if to infuse her with some of his strength. "Take care of yourself. Take care of Urie. Make a speedy recovery."
"Yes, sir," she returned as if accepting orders. Those were orders she would happily carry out to the best of her abilities.
~\..'../~
"North Carolina?" Kuki asked, staring at his plane ticket. "The United States?"
The time for unexpected revelations had begun. She knew he would have questions and lots of them.
"Mmm, yes," Miyu responded, folding the purple cardigan to put it in her carry on bag. "Were you expecting Transylvania?"
Then she guffawed loud and hard. The part of the mountain range where the colony lived was actually located in a place called Transylvania County. She had never made that connection before. Also colony referred to a group of bats. Not a single member of the group could morph into a bat, another favorite belief of vampire mythology. However, they were not completely incapable of frightening transformations - herself included.
"What?" Kuki inquired, his narrow eyes becoming mere slits.
"Because vampires are supposed to be from Transylvania, you know."
"But I thought you were Japanese."
Miyu sighed not caring to elaborate any further on silly vampire lore purported by books and movies. Surely he had read at least one vampire novel at some point in his life. Hopefully not one of those horrid ones where vampires twinkle in the sun. She cringed.
But maybe he not read any of those kinds of books. Perhaps those kinds of stories did not appeal to him. Besides, he knew too much about real life monsters to be interested in fictional ones.
Rummaging through the box of cold weather clothes she had retrieved from the storage closet downstairs, she searched for the sweater her father had sent to her last Christmas.
"I am. My mother was Japanese. She met my Father here when he was traveling the world. He took her back to his home in the U.S. They lived there together for a while. When I turned five, she brought me back here. Against his wishes," she added, finding the chocolate brown cable knit pullover she had been searching for.
"How many times have you visited your father there?" He sat on the corner of the bed, his dark eyes studying her.
"Three times. I did not visit him for the first time until after my Mom died. I thought it only fair he learn about the passing of his wife in person."
"How is your relationship with your father?" he asked, unfazed by her statement.
He was acting awfully formal tonight reminding her of his stiff, no nonsense manner he used to stonewall her when they first met. So much time had passed since getting past his cold exterior she had actually forgotten that part of him existed.
His intense gaze made her apprehensive. He was like a human lie detector tonight, asking questions and seeing through her to make sure she was telling the truth. She wished he would stop staring at her that way, but she could also see a childlike curiosity in his piercing eyes.
"Our relationship isn't what you would call close, but it's not really strained or anything either," she said, stuffing the huge sweater into her already full suitcase.
Honestly, she was not sure how to describe their relationship. She could go without thinking about him for years then she would experience this sudden, intense bout of homesickness. She would go see him, and he would welcome her with open arms, as would the whole colony, as if no time had passed at all. The sense of closeness and kinship between them was weird but comforting - and completely inexplicable.
"Are you packed already?" she asked, struggling with the zipper on her overfilled suitcase.
"Yes," he answered succinctly, glancing down at the singular black suitcase at his feet.
"Did you pack clothes for cold weather?"
"Yes. I prepared accordingly. What are your people like?"
Miyu laughed at the odd and blunt wording of his question. He could not be deterred. Inquiring minds want to know. Her giggle died away. Your people. She guessed they were indeed set apart from others like a different race. More like a different species. They were not exactly human but not so far removed they were not considered human.
Her father always said they were humans, only evolved. They were stronger, faster, smarter - better than human. At first, she had thought her father was an elitist prick. But in a way, he was correct.
Although ghouls had their own special abilities that paralleled or possibly surpassed those of her kind. A ghoul's capacity for cruelty, especially in regards to self-preservation or furthering their own interests, was none like she had experienced before in her life.
"I know you can't see it now, but I'm doing this to protect the both of you." What did Kaneki mean by that? What, or who, did he feel the need to protect them from? He was now a squad leader. Kuki said things had been crazy at headquarters but...
"Miyu? Are you all right?" Kuki asked, laying his hand on her shoulder.
She jumped from the unexpected contact, snatching her out of her own head space. She had not yet told him about the deal struck with Kaneki. Her eyes met Kuki's questioning ones, and she forced herself to smile. She would not tell him tonight. Their plane would be taking off in three hours.
"I'm fine."
"Are my questions bothering you? I can stop," he offered, pulling her into his arms. He gave her a peck on the lips. "I can conduct my own physical inquiry to learn more about you."
"Mmmm," she groaned, putting her arms his neck. "I like that idea."