As the sun begins to set, and the yellow fads to orange and the orange fades to red and the red fades to twilight, you find the children, and you tuck them in.
You wonder: 'What do I do next?'
Tell the children the stories.
Tell them how they came to be, tell them how they started. Tell them how they grew from a solution to a convenience to an inconvenience to a problem. Tell them how they infect everyday life, spreading like a plague and harming everything it comes into contact with. Tell them about the death and destruction they have caused to millions of families and friends and acquaintances and strangers, all because of their selfish greed to overrun the other. Tell them about the war, the battles, the fighting, the mourning, and the dying.
Tell the children the stories, then kiss them goodnight, and leave them to sleep in the nightmare called life, leave them to grow up to the roles that you told them at twilight.
You smile, and they smile, and you leave.
You've left them wondering, as the sun fully sets into the horizon and the darkness fully settles in and swallows them whole.
Did you describe ghouls, or humans?
(You wonder: 'Do I even know?')
x-x-x
The last autumn leaves began to fall from the very tips of the trees that hid a bright and cold sun, leaving them bare and empty while meandering their way through the air until they land merely meters away from the branches that they fell from, until a wind picks them up and begins t make them travel, blowing them further and further with a black-haired boy to follow them, step by step getting closer and closer to the small abandoned park that he had grown so fond of.
He doesn't know why he keeps going. It's almost been three months since he's seen his friend. Maybe she's forgotten about the poor little human she used to entertain and train with, thinking so lowly of him that even eating him doesn't entertain her in the same way as a stranger on the streets.
It wouldn't be surprising that he's so trivial and insignificant that he wasn't even considered a meal.
After all, he was rather pathetic, wasn't he?
Even if the green haired girl did care for him and did visit him every Saturday as according to their nonverbal pact that they made that spring all those years ago, it was a Wednesday. There was no way in the world that she would turn up here, so far away from her home (or he at least assumed that to be the case) especially since they had not seen each other for so long.
He was only here because he had gotten locked out again.
(The black-haired boy, no, he was a teen now, was forever grateful for his aunt, not matter what she did to him. She took him after his mother died, she fed him and clothed him and kept a roof over his head.)
(His chin felt itchy…)
It's not his fault that he was locked out this time. He was at school longer than he said he would be, Hide wanted to drag him to his afterschool club, and who was he to deny this bond-haire3d wonder? Because of his lateness, his aunt and her family had gone out, to a movie, a meal, he didn't know. Usually, he would be left alone, locked in his room to stop him from 'stealing the food' or some trivial excuse that she liked to pull. It wasn't so bad, he could always sneak out of his open window and meet up with Hide if needed, not that he did it a lot in the first place.
It wasn't like he really left his room and willingly interacted with them anyway.
He lets out all of his troubles through his breath at the sight of the park, still and forever abandoned except for him and his green-haired friend-
Except now it was just him again.
He's alone again.
x-x-x
He flicks over a page, a finger following along the words, frowning as he isn't able to fully focus on anything properly. He could read them just fine, but the whole meaning of the sentence is totally lost on him.
A rustle of leaves from the pile under the bare tree causes him to jump and look up at the cat who just pounced on a mouse, holding their gift proudly before wondering off.
He sighs and goes back to his book, shivering despite the added scarf, added only so it didn't look like he was neglected or homeless, his aunt's words.
x-x-x
He hides away in the crumbling playhouse when the rain comes in days later, the feeble plastic roof able to protect him and his book from the light pitter patter of water and the leave that had been hidden in there made for a comfortable place to sit.
The weather is able to hide his own tears from the break up that the main character went through, even though it was probably better for the pair of them in the long run.
x-x-x
He is almost to the park again, when he walks past a poster with a picture of a kid that he recognised.
He backtracks and tilts his head as he reads the information about the runaway, taking in the full name of the boy that he saved years ago now, frowning over the way that the picture portrayed the dark eyes filled of anger and the frown covering the boy's face in the picture, clearly pouting over something small and ridiculous that would mean nothing in the future. Sighing, he shook his head and ripped the poster down, quickly tearing it in two and placing the remnants in different bins to make sure it couldn't be tracked, by the CCG, who surely already has pictures of him when he was younger when they raided their father's old flat.
How stupid was this girl to leave an obvious paper trail like this for the CCG to follow? That was a stupid way to throw this back in not only his face, but those other ghouls that didn't have to take them in after the CCG came after them.
He spends his day looking over 20th ward taking down posters named 'Missing: Kirishima Ayato' instead of going to the park and reading the same book for the third time in a row.
He doesn't regret it, even if it does mean a sad waitress serving them good coffee and a curious glance from the old manager when he goes back to Anteku later with Hide the next day.
x-x-x
They say that winter's late this year.
There are no more leaves to fall of the trees, and the rain that falls from the heavens isn't frozen like the many years before. There is no bitter wind that nips at the noses of the children and there's desire to make hot chocolatey drinks that warm you up from the inside out.
The black-haired boy doesn't mind the mild temperatures and the lack of an actual winter despite the time of the year, as it meant that he could read at the park until the sun set earlier that normal.
Well, he wasn't as much reading as he was waiting.
Maybe he should stop waiting, as she didn't seem to be coming back.
x-x-x
He doesn't leave the house for the next few days.
The flooding of the front garden stops him at least.
The next week he spends it at Hide's place, because the boy is persistent and who is he to deny such puppy dog eyes.
And the week after it's raining again, meaning that he can't leave the house again.
Maybe it's a sign.
Maybe he should just give up.
x-x-x
He drags his feet through the mud, the leaves haven disintegrated into mush at this point, as he slowly makes his way up to the park, perhaps for the last time.
Or maybe, if she really has given up on him (the knifes weigh heavy in his sleeves, he doesn't leave without them anymore, he's grown attached and anxious), he can show Hide the park, and show him the stars when it gets dark and name the constellations, and point out that cat that visits and let them have a quick peak that the bunnies that have a burrow just under the slide that the black haired kid just knew that his best friend would love.
But, then again…
He didn't really want Hide and Eto meeting.
They would be great friends, sure, but Ken was selfish, and he wanted them both for himself, because he was sure that if they were to meet they would be so good for each other that they would surely leave him behind for the dust, or maybe the green haired girl he was so fond of would pity him enough to eat him finally.
Though, he still wouldn't be surprised to find out that he was far too pathetic to even be considered a meal for a ghoul.
He let himself smile when he came across the small bench that laid to the end of the park, surrounded by overgrown trees and small shrubs that tried to hide the metal structure, his walking speed increasing to sit down on the bench, having missed it after weeks of staying away from the park, but when he got there, he frowned.
Where he usually sat, was a book.
Dear Kafka, by Sen Takatsuki.
Curiously, he opened the book up and flicked through it, noting it's brand new state and instantly frowning at the writing at the start of the book, perhaps where an author might sign the book.
Opening the book full to the handwritten page, he sat down on the bench, and began to read.
x-x-x
Dear Ken-chan,
It's been a while, huh.
I would say sorry for the lack of contact, but I know that you know that I would be lying, so I'm going to skip the human pleasantries that you have been drilling into me for the past few years now. However, I am sorry that I am not here to give this to you and explain all of this to you; I'm sure this will raise so many questions.
I'm sure you've seen on the news about the latest large-scale ghoul attack, although, now that I'm thinking deeper about it, you probably had your nose far into a book or talking to that blonde kid. It's doesn't matter, I'll tell you about it when I next see you. It's it the beginning, the first act, the start of something amazing.
I'm sure you remember the book that you recommended to me not too long ago, Damian, by Hermann Hasse. I'm sorry that I haven't returned it yet, but there's a quote in chapter five that truly resonates with me. 'The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas.'
We need a new world Ken. We need a world where a friendship like ours is not forbidden or feared, but treasured and considered part of everyday life. We need a world where being a ghoul isn't a one-way road to hell, but just a side note instead.
I need your help to do so.
You see, I can easily find ghouls to rally with and follow my orders, and I've got someone who believes in the same goal that can help out from a different angle.
But he isn't human. You are.
You've grown up in this normal world, where my species is feared and are monsters, and yet, you have protected and nurtured them despite that. you can help lead the rest into this new world, help them to fly and break the world they are currently living in.
I know it sounds out there, but please, consider it before I tell you more.
Just, sleep on it or something.
-Eto.
P.S. This is the story, or well, stories, that I've been working on for a while, and I did promise that you would get the first one off the printer all that time ago, didn't I?
x-x-x
Ken looked up at the sky, eyes widening as a snowflake came into his view, and was quickly followed by a small flurry of little flecks of frozen water.
Winter was finally here.
