2.
Clean
"Kaneki, I think your bookshelf is going to explode."
Kaneki didn't look up from his sheets of homework. He only hummed, maybe in agreement, but Hide knew his friend wasn't listening to him.
Hide stared at the thin, tall, dark wood bookshelf with unease. The thing was stuffed from head to toe, more stuffed than a fat women getting into a size 6 pair of jeans. There were even books atop the shelf, cramming their way into the small space between the ceiling and the armed-weapon.
You wouldn't think you could be inhumane to books, and Hide wouldn't have guessed Kaneki to be the one to open his eyes.
"Seriously, one day this apartment block is gonna blow," Hide continued, "And it will be because of your bookshelf."
"The bookshelf is fine, Hide." Kaneki said in a tone not unlike a parent trying to silence a child. He was still reading over his sheets at the coffee table in front of his bed. Hide supposed the sheets contained whatever literary majors' study.
"They will mass-produce them as the ultimate weapon." Hide hummed to the room, "Kaneki-Bookshelf-Bombs. That is how you will be remembered."
"Don't you have homework to do?" Kaneki finally turned to look at Hide with a huff, and Hide showed a bright, cocky smile.
"Already done, 'Neki. You know me." Hide stood from Kaneki's well-made bed with a stretch, leaving a dent in the quilt. Kaneki showed a small smirk, because yes, he did, and turned back to his work.
Hide was brave enough to touch the spines of the books and he gently dragged is fingers across as he skimmed them. Some were smooth, some rough, some small, and some unreadably thick. Kaneki had them all.
"Aren't these things mostly about death and destruction anyway? You are kinda jinxing it."
"Hide," Kaneki's eyes didn't leave his reading material. It always amazed Hide how Kaneki could keep a smooth conversation with him while simultaneously taking in every written word. "It's not going to explode. And I like to think they are about the hardships of life, not death."
Hide hummed in agreement and sat opposite Kaneki and his work on the coffee table. "Yeah, you would." He said lightly, sincerely.
There was a comfortable silence as Kaneki scribbled on his paper.
"Need any help?"
"Go away." Kaneki smiled.
Hide wakes up from the worst sleep of his life. Can he even call that a sleep? It feels like he barely blinked. But the sun piercing through his small living room window onto his exposed skin tells him; yes, he really did pass out on the floor for an undetermined amount of hours.
Hide groans and brings his hands to rub at his exhausted eyes, but they are blocked by a foot dangling over his face. A very dirty foot attached to the leg hanging from the couch.
"Ewww." Hide pushes the foot back onto the brown furniture and after decides to pick himself up as well. He gets as far as sitting up before stopping to collect his head. It starts spinning. That was too fast, he concludes, and gradually gets himself to his feet.
Kaneki is still sleeping on his belly with a steady, rhythmic rise and fall of his back and in turn the colourful quilt as well. His face, although smudged with substances Hide can't identify, is the definition of calm, and Hide looks at it for too long.
Hide stumbles to the adjoined kitchen. It is as good a size as any, not too small, could be bigger, and has an island counter (score). The tops of the counters are white and would shine if wiped down. This part of their small space has got to be one of the cleanest in the home, aside to the bathroom. It is a room where you just clean things, you can't beat that.
"Coffee. Yeah, coffee sounds great." Hide gets two mugs from the cupboard and he genuinely smiles, because there are two to get coffee for today. One is green, and one is blue.
Kaneki likes the colour blue.
With the pouring of water comes a hum from Hide's lips, and he can call the small circles he makes as he slowly tips the water into the cups therapeutic. Steam comes off the cups of freshly made coffee as he walks them to the living room. He plans to put them on the coffee table, but finds that he can't.
"Oh…" There is no room on the tiny table. Empty mugs have stolen any place for Hide or Kaneki's full ones to go, and extra, random folders make sure of it.
Hide puts the hot mugs back on the island counter with a huff.
He stuffs the folders wherever he can away from the surface (he really needs find a place to put his school work). Hide grabs as many cups as he can in his arms but still needs to take two looks at the pile of them, now on the sink, and wonders if he should clean them all now to get it over with before Kaneki wakes up.
The sudden sound of the quilt-clad man stirring from the living room answers his question for him.
Hide grabs the (still hot hot hot) cups of coffee and walks back to the couch.
Kaneki is sitting up and his quilt is still half on him but half not. His new jacket is creeping up his torso. His eyes stare at the window.
Hide doesn't know what he feels as he looks to the man that was missing just yesterday, but he thinks the overwhelming emotion of nostalgia is to blame; because Kaneki is sitting on his couch again, and they are about to have a nice cup of coffee again. Hide smiles as bright as the sun lighting the room.
"Hey Kaneki, how did you sleep?" Hide asks and (finally) puts the coffee on the table.
Kaneki doesn't move.
…
"Would you like some coffee?" Hide pushes the mug closer to Kaneki in case his friend hasn't seen it. His eyes haven't left the window (Or was he looking at the wall?) so that was most likely.
Kaneki's eyes do leave the wall/window eventually, and he looks at his own hand. This hand still has flaking blood on its fingertips from when Hide found him scratching, and that is what Kaneki does again. His hand scratches the couch.
Hide's eyebrows crease, uneasy about the strange behaviour. "Hey, hey Kaneki," Hide stresses in a hushed tone, not sure what to do but bring Kaneki's attention to him. There is no damage to the skin of the sofa but that is not what is concerning Hide so greatly. Hide, from where he is kneeling to the side of the couch, puts a hand over Kaneki's.
Kaneki looks up fast for the first time at Hide, like he only now notices he is not alone. His face constricts and morphs into the first expression since last night.
And Hide is an idiot. He knows a big part of him, bigger than reason, hoped it was the cold. He prayed it was. That part of him hummed as he got coffee, smiled as he watched his friend sleep soundly. That part of him wondered what they would talk about over the steaming cups. There is no rationality, only Hide in a dazed nostalgic dream. But Kaneki's expression was not one Hide could remember.
Creased eyebrows, mouth stretching down as far as it can even if painful, and eyes that don't know what to do, what they are looking at or for.
Pain. Pain like nothing Hide could imagine. And fear.
"Kaneki," Hide tries not to choke on the name, like his mind was second-guessing who he is talking to, "…Do you remember me?" Is all he thinks to ask that face.
Kaneki tries to move his hand from underneath Hide's.
"Hide." Hide insists, rubbing his thumb kindly into the struggling hand. "Hide, you know?"
Kaneki shocks Hide when he throws his other arm out, maybe in panic, and consequently knocks over the blue mug. Warm coffee floods the table and falls to the carpet with a quick splosh.
"Kaneki!" Hide doesn't mean to cry so loud in alarm. But he does, and Kaneki jumps from the couch, turns, and attempts to move toward the bedroom. Only attempts, because a second later he is tripping over a folder to the floor.
Hide jumps to his feet with so much concern he thinks he could burst. He is at Kaneki's side in much less than a second, but he reluctantly stops himself from touching his friend. He doesn't want to shock or terrify or intrude on Kaneki's personal space any more than he has. So he sits on his knees, hands out if needed because he can't stand doing nothing.
Kaneki whines as he lies on his stomach, and his head buries in his arms so far Hide can only see hair.
Hide stills until his heart and mind stop racing, and he lowers his arms with a sigh. A very heavy breath he knew he couldn't hold in any longer. He looks to the coffee table, stained with brown liquid that falls from the edge along with that stupid, stupid hope.
A blue fucking mug. A Blue. Mug. Kaneki doesn't need his favourite fucking colour. Kaneki doesn't need a lovely chat over a hot cup of anything. Kaneki needs help.
Kaneki is lying on the ground, Kaneki is scared, Kaneki is in pain, and you find him a blue fucking mug.
Because blue was Kaneki's favourite colour.
But Kaneki doesn't know that. Kaneki, here, now, doesn't know much at all. Hide doesn't know why, can't even begin to count any possibilities, and he may never find out.
"Stupid," Hide curses through gritted teeth, a sudden pain constricting his heart and crawling up his throat. No, it isn't sudden. This pain sits inside of him always, like a bear lightly sleeping in the cave of Hide's body, and it is a constant worry to not disturb it. "S-Stupid, stupid, stupid," He insults.
He brings a hand up, and hits the ball of it to his forehead, hard.
"Such an idiot," Hide sobs, and strikes again. And again. Again.
He can't do anything right for him. When has he ever? How could he have thought he could? He let this happen. He could have done something.
Kaneki doesn't need Hide.
Kaneki needs help.
Hide only stops the assault on himself when he feels a grip on his pants. His open hand is shuddering close to his face, so ready for another painful yet reliving strike.
A hand, a frail, dirty hand, rests on his knee lightly.
Kaneki is looking at him. Hide doesn't know with what expression, only one eye peeks from the protective walls of his arms, but it has changed from the stress-filled one from before.
Hide notices he has to calm his breathing. He is panting hard. He looks at the eye and brings his hand from his face to the hand on his leg.
The hand grips Hide's pants harder, and a whine fills the room again.
"Sorry, buddy," Hide eventually says, for multiple reasons. Hide calms down while stroking over the knuckles of Kaneki's hand with his thumb. Kaneki's hand loosens its hold just a bit.
…
…
"…Hi…de."
And Hide's breathe stops all together.
Kaneki mumbles it through his arms, but Hide hears it like a train passing his window. His name has never sent such an emotion through him. Never have those two syllables ever held so much importance.
Hide loosens his grip on Kaneki's hand when he notices how hard he is suddenly holding it, and he nods his head many times.
"Yeah, that's right man," Hide shows a shaking smile, "Hide, remember?" and wipes stray, wet tears from his cheeks.
It is like this, hardly keeping a sob at bay and feeling a bruise appearing on his forehead, that Hide makes a promise to Kaneki on the floor. He will never hurt himself in front of Kaneki again, because Kaneki will never experience or witness such terrible things from here onward. Never. Never ever, he thinks. The world could end, and Hide will make sure Kaneki has the safest, warmest seat for it.
Hide will help him. He doesn't know how, but he will. For as long as he can. He feels that determination building when he thought it was lost forever, buried under piles of weights that seemed important just yesterday and now redundant as he looks into those grey eyes, now two of them peeking.
Kaneki seems to get his own determination to sit up from the carpet and onto his knees, a little bit wobbly.
Hide helps to steady him but his fingers only lightly brush Kaneki's shoulder. A feather could have been tougher.
"Hey, Kaneki," Hide's smile is shaking less and less," Let's get you cleaned up." The layers of dirt and substances unknown (as much as Hide wishes he did) clinging to the skin of his friend has never left his mind. Each patch of persistent grime is like a teasing puzzle piece. The prize if one where to connect those dots? Knowing where Kaneki might have been these past six months. Maybe, Hide dares, what had happened. But the dust and dirt only teases, because Hide will never know.
Kaneki twitches and he brings a hand to his hair to scratch at it. Not an eerie, concerning scratch like twice before, but a genuine itch to the back of his head, like only in verbally mentioning his appearance does he realise how uncomfortable he is.
Hide takes it as a desperate conformation. They say actions speak louder than words, and Hide hopes it's true.
Hide stands before helping Kaneki to, and Kaneki is calmer now as he complies. Whatever Hide did to cause such a thrash before must have washed over by now. He is glad for that, and takes Kaneki's hand, all his tears now dry.
"Ok, watch your step this time, man. And don't worry; in the bathroom you can actually see the floor."
And Hide is right. Why would he lie? The bathroom is shining when he leads Kaneki through the door, one of two in the room. This is one of those bathrooms that try and give you the illusion of it being an en suite, so it connects to both the bedroom and the living room. It's a western style bathroom too, with a hybrid of a bath and shower. The curtain is an ugly green.
Hide stops them in the middle of the small room, and lets out a deep breath as he closes the door, because this is going to be a little awkward.
First, the water.
Kaneki takes in the new, very white room as Hide leans over and across the bath to mess with the taps. The water is a loud mini waterfall. He adds bubbles.
Everyone likes bubbles.
"Ok, Kaneki, um…" Hide turns back to his unclean friend and finds him staring at the medicine cabinet mirror, a hand presses next to his reflected face.
Kaneki is looking into his own eyes. Hide doesn't know that expression, but it makes him feel a pained sympathy, and he suddenly wants to wipe the expression off as much as the dirt.
What he would do for a smile.
Hide kindly brings Kaneki's attention back to him. Well, his eyes are now on the bath but close enough.
Kaneki itches his head again.
"Soon you will be so clean it will be like you are reborn!" Hide says, but backtracks that statement, "Um, well, maybe not reborn. I mean, babies are pretty gross when they come out, you know. Yeah, you knew that." He nervously rambles. "That should be enough," And he turns off the taps.
The bath is half full, hot, and brimming with bubbles.
Second, clothes.
Hide makes short work of the jacket, one careful arm at a time, and he folds it to the side. The shirt is a different issue.
"I need you to put your hands up, man, just for a little bit."
Kaneki, as Hide expected, doesn't move. He looks at the bubbles with little expression.
Hide realises quickly that this isn't going to happen without a whole lot of help. He gently grips Kaneki's hands and raises them way over his white head.
"Ok, stay still." Hide lets go of Kaneki.
And gravity does the rest. Kaneki's arms are back by his sides before Hide can do more than grip the edges of the mangled shirt.
"Seriously?"
A brief idea to cut the shirt goes through Hide's mind, but it is very brief. No way is Hide going to bring sharp objects into this situation. What if Kaneki throws his arm out again?
So Hide tries again, and gets the shirt up to Kaneki's armpits this time.
"Kaneki, you have got to help me out here…"
Hide's fingers brush the sides of Kaneki's ribs as he lowers the shirt back down, and Kaneki makes a noise in the back of his throat and his shoulders rise. Hide stops.
"Oh…?" Hide allows himself a smirk, because he knows that noise. Kaneki was holding back a laugh.
Hide lightly brushes the ribs again, and Kaneki again makes that slight choking, snort sound only louder. Kaneki raises his arms higher in an attempt to get away from the hands.
Hide forgot Kaneki was so ticklish.
"That's it," Hide almost giggles himself, "Just a little higher Kaneki." Kaneki's arms are high enough with one more brush of skin, and Hide tugs it over the mop of white hair quickly.
Hide bundles the rag into a ball and chucks it into the bin like an A-star basketball player, and a cheer to match.
"Awesome! Ok, last bit." The awkward bit.
Hide kneels down to the side of Kaneki, who is now rubbing at the side of his ribs. Hide grips the rim of Kaneki's pants and underwear and at the same time pulls both down to the ankles.
Hide averts his eyes as much as he can from the parts he knew Kaneki would really rather him not see.
Because his friend is a shy man.
Lifting one leg at a time, slowly, Hide gets those rough pants off and into the bin in record time.
The rest should be easy, but Hide's train of thought has yet to tell him how to get Kaneki into the bath safely, and he grabs at the first idea. Just guide him into it.
Grabbing Kaneki's hand securely in his, Hide tries to discreetly manoeuvre the dirty and stoic man into the bath. He only gets as far as standing directly in front of it, and Kaneki pokes at the diminishing bubble population.
Hide sighs, and the next idea is to lower him into the water.
"Kaneki I am gonna have to hold you for a bit, ok?" And he seems to be. He is in Hide's hold, bridle style, easily and without much more than a whine and a shuffle.
"Ok, awesome." Hide praises and he lowers himself and Kaneki down, Kaneki over the bathtub.
Kaneki's eyes are suddenly wide and alert as he descends, and when his toes touch the water, he screams.
"HIDE!"
Hide immediately reacts to the scared cry, and he drops backwards onto his butt with Kaneki tighter in his arms to his chest. Hide can feel his heart in his throat.
He did not expect that.
Kaneki has his fingers gripping the back of his shirt and his head pushes into his neck. He is breathing heavy.
Hide strokes Kaneki's back, trying to sooth him. He doesn't know if it works or not. He has no idea what has spooked him so much. Was it the water? The heat of it? Was the descent too fast?
"Hey, hey, shhhh, it's ok." Hide tries, still brushing Kaneki's back with the lightest touch. "You can do this, dude. It's just water."
It takes a while, so long Hide can't feel his legs, but Kaneki uncurls from Hide. Kaneki looks to the white tile floor, and Hide considers postponing the bath. But he can't. Kaneki is uncomfortable, it's clear, and they have come so far.
Hide's next idea works. He tests the water before Kaneki.
He takes off his shoes, socks and pants and makes sure Kaneki is watching when he gets into the bath. Ankle deep, he shows an exaggerated smile and gestures to himself in the bath.
"See? All ok!" He doesn't know if Kaneki can understand this all too well, but the man is watching.
Next Hide brings Kaneki's hands to the water and gives them a wash. Kaneki doesn't scream or thrash, he only musters a muffled and confused whine. After that, it is just a matter of small steps, deliberately controlled movements and small tests filled with reassurance.
Kaneki sits in the warm water, and his face is worth it all. A small smirk, Hide thinks he can see, and half lidded eyes. He moves his hands in the water. He doesn't hide how much he likes the warmth.
Hide starts wiping a cloth with soap over Kaneki's back as Kaneki messes with the bubbles. He pokes them, slaps them, pushes them and anything else that will make them 'pop!'.
Best invention ever, bubbles are.
Hide washes Kaneki's feet; the feet he had woken up to this afternoon.
Sitting to the side of the bath with no pants on, he rubs small circles over the patches of grime. As he does, he notices most of those patches are blood. Dried blood and/or dark blood mixed with dirt. As he puts shampoo into his hair, it is blood matting it together.
"Kaneki…" Hide feels the need to address in a hushed tone and his eyebrows are knitted with deep concern, but within a second he forces the expression away with a flash of a smile when he sees the half-glance Kaneki gives him.
Kaneki's hair is longer than Hide remembers last.
The bath takes a long while, partly because of how much mess there is, and partly because of how lightly Hide is using the cloth and rubbing at Kaneki's hair.
Getting Kaneki out is almost as tricky as getting him in, because now Kaneki doesn't want to leave the warmth. But draining the water is found to be the solution. The price is a very loud whine.
Drying is simple for the both of them and soon Kaneki stands with no patches of blood and dirt and other unnamed substances, but with pale skin from head to toe and pure hair now fluffy and reaching in all directions from a mad Hide with a towel.
Hide looks around for the next step planned and could hit himself for being so stupid, but he doesn't, of course.
"Right, new clothes. Damnit."
He opens the door to his bedroom and steam follows him like a ghost as he looks around his floor for relatively clean clothes that would fit Kaneki. There is no point looking in his closet.
He keeps one eye on the bathroom at all times as he picks out pants, underwear and a long sleeved shirt from his dimly lit bedroom. The sun is setting already.
"Hope these fit." Hide murmurs more to himself as he shuffles back into the bathroom. Kaneki hasn't moved his feet an inch in any direction. Hide supposes that's a good thing, but he is everything but ecstatic about his friend's lack of independent movement.
Hide puts the clothes on Kaneki in the opposite order he took them off. Underwear first, one foot in at a time, three quarter, dark green pants next and that smooth top that easily slips on. They fit, though the shirt is a little bit big. Hide hasn't failed to notice how thin Kaneki has gotten. He can see his ribs.
"Did it!" Hide says, and raises Kaneki's arm for him to give a high-five. The lightest, most gentle high-five either will ever know.
'A clean room is a clean mind' is what his mother used to say. Hide never quite understood this. One's mind and one's surroundings are two completely different things, and people don't spend their whole week locked in their bedroom. They spend their days in all sorts of places. Usually. So to suspect someone's mind is a mess because their room is a mess is like suggesting a man with a hood is a mugger.
But now, Hide, scrubbing away at mugs and plates and mugs again, supposes that there was some truth behind his Mother's warning. She just got it the wrong way around.
Hide's mind hasn't been in the best of shape lately, and, stupidly, he is only now coming to realise this. All it took was someone else for Hide to look out for besides himself, and suddenly he saw everything wrong with how he is living. Because now Kaneki has to live here too.
Kaneki, last Hide checked (about three minutes ago) is sitting on the brown couch looking at the wall in the living space. In front of him is a delightfully noticeable blue carpet and freshly wiped down coffee table. Not a folder in sight because they are now packed in a box just underneath the coffee table. Perfect fit, really.
"Last one." Hide sighs with a smile, and gives the cup one last rub of the cloth before sitting it aside to naturally dry with the rest. He pulls the plug out with an exaggerated tug and wipes his hands dry on his pants.
"Finally! Two rooms down. Now to the bedroom." But first: to check Kaneki again.
Hide walks to the living space just through the archway and is unsurprised that Kaneki still sits on the couch. His eyes move around the room, as if assessing every tiny detail, before resting again on the cream wall. Hide again wishes he knew what Kaneki is thinking.
Hide walks past the couch to his bedroom door, and he doesn't try to hide the large yawn. He has been tired since he woke up, after all. He is surprised he has survived this long.
The sun is down now, and he flicks on the lights. And groans.
How had he lived this long? He could get lost in there, seriously. He might lose Kaneki again in his own house.
"Hey, Kaneki, you know you can jump in and help at any time." Hide turns back to the white haired man.
Kaneki, hearing Hide or not, turns his head away.
"No? Ok…" Hide smirks at either Kaneki's mood or good timing, and ploughs his way into the room.
He starts sorting his clothes out first; the dirty in one pile, the wearable in another. He spreads his sheets back onto his bed and practically rakes up the empty cans, paper plates and take-out containers.
He is completely depleted of energy by the time his room looks reasonable, and he is too scared to check the time. Good thing tomorrow is Sunday. Or maybe it's Sunday now. Hide doesn't care.
Hide realises with a start that he hasn't checked on Kaneki since he started cleaning his room like a mad man. He sprints with no obstacles back to the living space, and relaxes with what he faces.
Kaneki is curled up on the couch, knees to his chest and arms under his head like a pillow. He face is bliss and his eyes are closed. His breathing is even.
Hide collects his Grandmother's quilt (nicely folded on a shelf) and tucks Kaneki in gently as to not wake him.
"G'night, 'Neki." Hide yawns. "Sweet dreams."
He leaves his bedroom door wide open to the living space. The same light blue carpet covers his floor, he admires, and although that too needs a big clean, it is the only thing on the floor. Hide has a smooth walk to his bed, and, if he wanted, a very smooth trip to the dusty bookshelf in the corner.
A bookshelf absolutely stuffed with books, from head to toe. It is dark, tall and slim. There are even books atop the shelf, not quite reaching the ceiling, all about the hardships of life.