Kaneki shut the door to his apartment, perhaps harder than was necessary at this time of night, and stumbled back to his couch, collapsing there, mindless of a stray page of notes getting creased. He buried his face in his hands, scrubbing at his weary eyes and wishing that his skin would stop crawling. His fingers found his lips, rubbing and trying to dispel all the lingering traces of warmth and contact, and he stumbled towards his shower to try and rinse the memory away.
As the water rolled down his skin and soaked his hair, Kaneki retreated into his mind, finding himself oblivious to the steaming air and scalding water. Tsukiyama would have to go. Or at least be avoided. Kaneki found himself unwilling to give in to the attraction that he felt towards the taller man. Attraction and physical contact was dangerous for him, now more than ever as Yamata no Orochi's voice grew ever louder, telling him to eat, eat, consume, destroy... No he definitely had to distance himself. Tsukiyama and all his attractiveness is fake anyways, he told himself. Taukiyama wants to use me, I'm just a means to an end. I'm just another of his fleeting distractions. Kaneki told himself this, repeated it like a mantra, until all but the most stubborn and deep rooted thoughts had been washed away. The voices filled the absence, filling his mind with a darker yearning than what had occupied the space before. Kaneki yanked the toggle in the shower, turning the water icy cold, reminding himself who was in control, what was real. The voices aren't real, the voices have no power. His words ran in circles in his head, and the water ran in icy rivulets down his back, and when Kaneki turned the shower head off after an indeterminate amount of time and stepped out of the shower, he was shivering.
Kaneki could already tell that, like so many nights before, he would be getting no sleep, and so he made himself a cup of coffee and waited. As the gentle misty rays of light crept over the horizon, Kaneki thought of the first time that Tsukiyama had stayed here, after both sparing his monstrosity of an existence and saving his life. They had sat together on a morning similar to this, drinking coffee comfortably. He should not have let that happen. That was the start of the foolhardy closeness that had led to attachment, that would lead to separation.
The following days did indeed include separation, mostly of Kanekis own making. He found new haunts on breaks between lectures, or just rushed to his classes with no pause. His inevitable interactions with Tsukiyama, who remained his SS in name if nothing else, were cold and clipped, and he saw the hurt in Tsukiyama's eyes after every conversation. He found himself avoiding outside company in general, and the screaming in his skull only grew louder.
His only solace came in the presence of Hinami and her mother, usually accompanied by their stoic SS Banjou. Hinami's sunny disposition and Ryokou's motherly affection were enough to set Kaneki at ease, and silence the unrest pounding in his skull for hours or even days. Sometimes, without them, Kaneki would simply forget to leave his apartment until Ryokou sent hinami to invite him out to shop or eat at a cafe.
On one such occasion, Kaneki was shopping with them and left for just a few minutes, enough time to slip into a bookshop while Hinami and Ryokou sat in a cafe together. He exited, walking leisurely towards the cafe where they had sat, only about a block away. The sun felt nice, and a breeze kept things from being too warm. It was a tranquil day, of the sort where one could fall asleep comfortable in the sun. The atmosphere was shattered when a piercing scream sliced through the air, it's fading notes mingling with animalistic snarls, and rooting Kaneki to the ground as all of a sudden his heartbeat grew deafening and his feet turned to stone, body frozen in horror. The scream was in a voice that was all too familiar.
Kaneki swayed in place for just one moment before he broke into a dead sprint, time stretching out far too long, and he was moving slow, too slow. Kaneki could already sense what his mind refused to believe. Too late, it's too late the voices chanted loud, trying to drown out his pounding heart and sobbing breath, as he rushed to get to Hinami, who's voice had cried out in terror, and to Ryokou who was disturbingly unheard.
Kaneki skidded around a corner in time to see Ryokou standing in front of a cowering Hinami, who was sobbing. Ryokou must have seen him out of the corner of her eye because, even as demons, too many to count, tore at her flesh and scratched off ribbons of her skin, she still managed to mouth two crucial words at him. She looked unbearably heroic, arms spread and a mothers love glinting in her eyes, as she stood tall, shoving her arm into a creatures mouth instead of letting it get to Hinami, screaming as the skin and muscle was torn away and the bone was rent into pieces.
Hinami was crying huge tears, splattered with her own mothers blood when Kaneki reached her.
"We have to go, Hinami now, come on,"
he scooped her up, and she was light enough for him to carry with one arm. The other transformed, nails elongating and scales sprouting from the skin and with that the screaming grew even louder. He batted one of the demons away, this one bat like in shape, and he felt a dark satisfaction in the way that the membrane of the wings tore under his blow.
When Kaneki turned around, he caught sight of Ryoukou, and she seemed to be smiling, perhaps at her daughters escape, but perhaps it was a figment of his wishful thinking, because even as she seemed to smile, her body was torn beyond repair, skin hanging in flaps, blood splattered and staining the flagstones outside the shops and the jaws of numerous monsters that clung to her body. Kaneki closed his eyes but the image remained, branded there. Hinami caught sight over his shoulder, and reached past, futilely wanting to feel her mothers touch one last time. Kaneki clutched her head to his chest, wishing he had thought to do so, that he could have protected her, protected Ryoukou.
He didn't remember the journey back to the apartment, but when he arrived the cafe was empty, so he brought her to Manager Yoshimura. Kaneki didn't think she would want to be alone in her apartment, and Yoshimura was old, wise and carried an aura of power. He, most definitely, would know what to do.
The two of them were led to an office where Kaneki sat, head in his hands, as a coffee was placed in front of him, served in delicate chinaware and subsequently ignored. Hinami curled up next to him, sobbing and shaking. The next thing to happen, as Yoshimura still stood quietly in front of them, was that both Banjou and Tsukiyama rushed into the room, summoned by Yoshimura. each immediately and loudly assaulting their respective charges with questions. Kaneki curled even further into himself, trying his best to drown out the cacophony, and hold back the tears prickling at his eyes.
He sat through the meeting, barely raising his head or acknowledging the presence of others except when asked a direct question. Hinami was shunted off to stay with Touka, as the two had previously been close, and Banjou followed closely. This left Kaneki and Tsukiyama in the room together. Tsukiyama said something, maybe trying to get him to move. It might have been his second or third attempt, Kaneki didn't know. It wasn't until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder that he raised his head, his eyes meeting the concerned dark violet of Tsukiyama. It was the first time that the two had held eye contact since the kissing incident, and Kaneki quickly broke it, glancing away and too the side before Tsukiyama was able to see too far into his soul.
"Kaneki-kun, shall I take you back to your room?" For the first time that evening, Kaneki registered Tsukiyama's words. Unlike all those previously spoken, always with layers of intentional charm, meant to raise intrigue and allure, this voice was full of nothing but concern, and Kaneki was finding it hard to cling to his distrust, when he desperately craved someone to cling to and rely on.
Wordlessly, Kaneki allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, and walked to the elevator, not objecting to the supportive hand on his back. A sense of exhaustion overtook him once he entered his home, collapsing on the couch and all that he could think was that he didn't want to be alone, and so he fisted a hand in Tsukiyama's shirt, not bothering to consider any implications, and sat in silence, finally.
A/N: so I updated. Yay! Sorry this tool so long, but here you go, thanks for reading guys, I love you. Any comments, critiques or suggestions are completely welcome!