The skyline is beautiful-below he can hear the cars running, feel the wind running its cool fingers through his hair and whispering.

Haise breathes, a slow draw of air through his mouth and out his nose. The air is crisp, sharp. It's a welcoming change to the usual stagnant air as he looks up, fixes one hand upon his metal seat, the other resting upon a cool bar that has since between torn away like the others.

A little white boy sits next to him. He's smiling, blue eyes scanning along the horizon with a little hum in his throat, kicking his feet out and bobbing his head to a tune he can't hear.

"Did... Did I want to die?" Haise finally asks, looking over at the boy.

He stops humming.

"Yes," The child starts, smiling at him-there's something so unnerving about the look in his eye, but Haise says nothing, gnawing on his lip. "Definitely. This time, I want to do something that'll allow you to be loved by everyone."

Haise's head hurts-the nausea comes on first, like the first wave after an earthquake, swinging up, up, up. But he says nothing, keeps quiet and listens to that white child, the way his smile doesn't reach his eyes and the way the light is curved on his cheek.

Him. He's saying this.

"A good thing, a bad thing," The boy continues, "It doesn't matter. After that, you see, I..."

He turns and smiles widely, kicking his feet out into the air as he looks up at Haise. "I want to die in style!"

The words get caught in Haise's throat as he considers his words.

"Will that be your salvation?"

Kaneki smiles yet again, turning his head to face back out at the skyline and clicking his tongue. "Yes!" He chirps, eyes growing fond of the scenery. Haise catches him wandering off to a distant memory-a memory he should remember, should but he couldn't.

Until...

"What do you mean?" Haise questions softly, eyes drooping down. There is something warm running on his face, warm and wet, but he doesn't care, watching as scarlet drops fall away into the streets far below. It's quiet, now. The wind has stopped, the cars are gone, but the light is still there, artificial and holds no weight, no life to it.

"So," Kaneki says, peering at Haise expectantly. "Can you manage it?"

They lock eyes, and Haise observes his face, child-like and tender, eyes sincere and small smile, genuine.

The blood flows more as he turns his face down, smiling and tasting the blood on his lips as it flows down, down, down.

"Yeah."

The silence that follows is deafening, but in his mind, Haise screams.

I've had enough of dreams.