3.

Worries

Best sleep of his entire life. He fell into slumber like you would a pool of water, and he surfaces just as the sun hits his face. He wakes with a stretch and spreads out his body with a sigh.

When had he last gotten a sleep like that? Must have been years.

Hide finds he is still dressed in his clothes from yesterday and naturally deems them wearable for the morning as well. He walks out of his room rubbing his eyes.

He abruptly stops when he reaches the living space, because something is very wrong. He looks over the couch which is holding the lovely grandmothers quilt, but it is a quilt with no Kaneki.

Best-sleep-turned-worst-nightmare, Hide calls Kaneki's name with a hope that the man will come out from hiding.

Not a stir to be seen or heard.

With Hide's heart racing like a hamster in a wheel, he sprints the small way to the kitchen. Upon no direct sight of his friend, he looks behind the island counter, under the table for two, cupboards, even in the fridge, but no Kaneki.

Hide grips his hair in alarm.

"Ok, Ok, calm down…" Hide takes a deep breath and exhales, which ultimately does nothing for his panic, "He has to be here." He checks if the front door is locked. It is. All the windows are fine.

And then the phone rings.

Hide almost dies of a heart attack at the demanding, shrill sound that does nothing for his peaking stress. He checks the caller ID quickly and decides to take it. It's work, so shouldn't be long. Just some more insistent reminders about his over-due load. In all honesty he is surprised he hasn't been fired. He is sure a few people want him to be.

He continues to search his house as he engages in the conversation half-heartedly.

"Hey, Amon, sir, what's up?" Hide tries to keep his voice as normal as possible. He checks behind the couch.

"Nagachika, are you going to get here soon?"

Hide pauses the search in the middle of the living space. It is Sunday, isn't it? No work, or school for that matter. Is he so far gone he doesn't know what day it is? Maybe that great sleep entailed 24 hours. Not having a calendar on hand, he asks his colleague.

"Yes, don't worry it is Sunday. I'm not calling to talk about work. I'm talking about the lunch we organised."

Oh.

Wait, what?

"You don't remember, do you?" Amon sighs. It isn't a disapproving sigh, or disappointed. It sounds tired, saddened, and Hide might have felt bad about it if he wasn't so preoccupied. But he listens as he removes the quilt from the couch and he remembers nodding to something-or-rather a few days ago.

"No, no I remember." Hide insists, grunting as he lowers himself to look in a low cabinet a friend of his might be able to fit into. "With you aaand…."

"Seidou."

"R-Right, and Seidou." Hide mindlessly nods, walking into his bedroom. He has to say he is at a loss right now with both his friends, the one on the phone and the one god knows where. Hide is stressing big time.

"Is this a bad time?"

Yes!

"No." And he sits on his bed with as little of a sigh as he can. "Sorry I can't come to the lunch, Amon. I don't feel well." It is a lie, but at the same time it's an understatement.

He lays his back on his bed. Well, he tries to, but a large, hard lump stops him from descending far.

The lump whines.

"Oh my God!" Hide jumps back to his feet not unlike a pole-vaulter and turns to face a small hill in his quilt. The quilt moves, and Hide's heart begins to slow when he sees white hair peeking.

"Hide? Hide, are you alright?!" It's Seidou on the phone now. He must have stolen it from Amon. "What happened?"

"I'm fine, Seidou. Just sick." Hide reassures. He is sure people scream to the lord when they are sick, right? Idiot. But his mind isn't with the conversation. It wasn't when he picked up the phone.

Hide sits on a part of the bed not occupied by Kaneki, having lost his strength to stand with all the relief.

"Sorry I can't come." And, maybe too abruptly (but also too relived to care), he hangs up the phone.

Kaneki doesn't move much more.

"Dude, you can't do that to me." Hide says to the tuffs of hair, and he hardly stops himself from hugging the ball of quilt and man. In his bed. How didn't he notice?

Why is Kaneki in his bed?

"Was the couch not warm enough?" Hide asks, but knows he has to come to a conclusion on his own. He brings the quilt back further until he sees a face.

Kaneki is awake and curled up on the mattress. He takes up little space like this, so maybe that is how Hide failed to find out there were two people in a bed made for one.

Has he been there all night?

Most of the questions in his mind will never be answered, not until the man in question has the ability to speak more than one word.

How Hide misses the conversations.

Having found Kaneki safe, Hide resumes his morning. He makes coffee, and again, he makes two cups of it in the freshly dried and clean mugs. They are both red.

He places them on the coffee table lightly. He sits on the couch with a 'flop' and brings the coffee to his lips. The other mug stays on the table, patient.

He doesn't expect Kaneki to come out of the bedroom so quickly, but the man drags himself and half the bedding into the living room. Maybe it was the smell of the hot drink, maybe it's because Hide already woke him up by nearly sitting on him. Hide cringes at that reminder.

"Morning." Hide says casually, and Kaneki heavily lands his butt onto the floor not too far away from the coffee table and Hide. He looks at the wall, or the window. Hide is still deciding which.

Hide moves Kaneki's mug closer to him. Just in case.

"Did you want to sleep in my bed from now on? I can take the couch." Hide sips from his mug.

Kaneki doesn't move, make a sound, anything. He breathes. The quilt and sheets hang over his thin shoulders.

Hide wonders how much Kaneki understands now. He has no way of knowing, but between the lack of movement, communication and incomprehensibly strange actions, he doubts Kaneki knows much of what goes on around him. But this is a thought about a reality that seems so very surreal. Kaneki, hardworking college student, shy but ambitious, binge-reader with a mind that could near inhale the words and knowledge off of any page, great talker and best friend to be around…

Kaneki now looks at the red coffee mug on the table; still hot but cooling quickly.

What happened to you?

"Do you want some? I've gotten better at making coffee, since you've been..." Gone, but Hide doesn't finish. He doesn't want to.

Kaneki's eyes don't move back to the wall as Hide expects, they stay on the mug, and Hide realises he may need some help. Like the bath, Kaneki can't do this by himself. So he puts his own warm drink down and kneels on the floor next to his sitting friend.

Hide picks Kaneki's cup up and carefully brings it closer to the pale face. Not too close. He doesn't want it to poor onto Kaneki if he isn't ready to drink it.

Kaneki stays still, eyes pinned to where the coffee used to be on the wooden furniture like his mind hasn't caught up to the fact that it has moved. Hide worries that this assumption is correct.

He softly coxes Kaneki into noticing the mug in front of his face by talking and subtly moving the drink.

Hide slowly, slowly, lifts the coffee to partly open lips. He positions Kaneki's head a little bit higher with his other hand so the liquid can go down his throat.

Hide realises a mug may not be the easiest thing to drink out of too late.

Some of the coffee gets into Kaneki's mouth, but most of it fails to do its job and runs down his chin and then down his neck. Kaneki's eyes change suddenly from uninterested to wide in alarm as Hide fusses over apologies and brings the mug away.

Kaneki screams.

He doesn't scream a name or a comprehensible word; it is just a loud, terrified cry, and it's the only sound that could tear at Hide's heart this much.

Hide stills, shocked beyond immediate reaction as Kaneki wails right in front of him. Now the man is clinging to himself in a hug that's too desperate, trying and succeeding in becoming smaller and smaller, closer to the carpet of pale blue.

"K-Kaneki-" Hide takes hold of himself once more and raises his shaking arms, hoping to do something, anything, to cease the hysterics. But he doesn't; he finds he can't. Was it the heat of the coffee? Maybe the taste was too strong.

Kaneki now has his forehead to the floor and Hide's arms hover just shy of Kaneki's fragile, shaking back as he franticly contemplates what went so wrong.

Hide's breath is uneven and rapid.

The mug was dropped and disregarded on the carpet, the coffee staining as much as the experience.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know, really," Hide doesn't fully know what he is saying; the words pour out, desperate and fast. And he continues to do so, staying by Kaneki's side until he can calm down.

Maybe it lasts for hours, maybe it was seconds, Hide wouldn't be surprised either way with his state of a frighted and concerned mind, but Kaneki eventually stills and quietens. When he does, his knuckles are as white as the hair they tightly grasp, as if the weak strands were his only life-line in a world gone horribly wrong.

Little comes to Hide in terms of what to do and say. His hand automatically and softly caresses the top of Kaneki's firm but frail back. He tells himself the touch is to let Kaneki know he is here and not alone, but the feel of Kaneki's slower breathing calms Hide down somewhat as well. Maybe even more so.

Hide hopes it is the rubbing of Kaneki's back that allows the fingers to loosen their deathly grasp, because that would mean he had done something right to appease the wrong. His action in truth may have been nothing more than a fly's touch, annoying more than anything, but either way Hide is relieved Kaneki is uncurling himself. Calming. Breathing. Soon he is sitting on his knees, like Hide, and looking at the very empty red mug.

Hide dares to wipe the tears from his friends face, slowly, gently. Kaneki doesn't look at him.

Hide thinks about picking up the mug, about taking it to the sink, but doesn't move. A room apart is too far away at the moment.

Hide feels a weight on his shoulders as he wipes tears from Kaneki's face he is all too aware he caused. This weight is heavy now, heavier than any he has ever felt in his life before this moment. It teases his muscles, something powerful, because he is the only person, the only one who remains in Kaneki's life. He is the only one who can help him, clean him, make him laugh, and the only one in his world now whose actions can affect him so profoundly to tears. Hide is feeling that tone of responsibility squeeze his shoulders with an unhealthy, unwavering grip. This grip has claws too now, needles of guilt, because Hide had failed to make Kaneki's day wonderful like it should be.

It hurts, from his head to his heart, but it should, Hide knows all too well.

Hide picks up the mug of red silently. He walks slowly to the kitchen but plans to come back much quicker. He can't leave for too long; the reasons are abundant. He pours his own coffee down the drain, having lost the appeal.

The Sunday didn't get much better after their morning.

Later, as Kaneki sits on the couch as unmoving as a frail statue, Hide discovers he has time on his hands. His apartment is clean, and Kaneki needs nothing of him at the moment. He puts his newly cleaned desk/dining table to good use after he moves it from the kitchen to the living room with Kaneki. For the first time in forever, he actively does his college homework with little strain from his head.

Why had it been such a strain before? Hide idly wonders about himself. He loves what he is studying. That's why he chose these classes. Idiot.

He comes across something he doesn't understand and writes it on a separate pad of paper for future study. The work consists of readings and reviews. He knows an essay is due in a week, and pins the reminder onto a pin board overhead. Easy.

Hide rolls his shoulders, tense since the day he was born, and takes a peek over them to the couch.

Kaneki has decided to lie on his side and his eyes are closed. Hide softly smiles and feels his shoulders relax just a bit. At least Kaneki feels safe enough in the house to sleep.

He spies the coffee stains on the collar of the white shirt and the smile runs away.

But then it comes back, half-heartedly, because Hide gets an idea; one that would stop the accident from this morning from ever repeating. It is genius.

But he needs to get to the shops. Is it really ok to leave Kaneki alone? The man is asleep, but Hide doesn't know how deep a sleeper he is anymore. He had gotten up last night, obviously.

Needing all the facts to make the decision, Hide digs out his phone from the pants he slept in. He researches just how far the nearest store selling what he needs is. God bless Google Maps.

Five minutes walking. Ok, two minutes if he ran, and he will. That's four minutes there and back. Oh, wait, about six to actually get what he needs and go back…idiot.

He looks to Kaneki again. He's sleeping as if the definition of peace, hopefully deeply. He has a slight twitch, but no body's perfect. He could go alone for six minutes. This trip is for him after all.

"I'll be right back, Kaneki." Hide explains, leaving his desk and draping Kaneki's quilt over the unconscious man. He puts a coat on himself, opens the front door and steps backwards into the cold. His eyes don't leave Kaneki until he is looking at the wood of the closed door in front of him.

Like he promised, he runs. He dashes through crowds (almost over people) and slips twice as he skids around corners before he is panting in front of his large, desired store.

He stops running, and jogs up and down the aisles. This place has everything on top of its clean, white, slippery tiled floor. Finally (he is notably going over-time) Hide finds the right line of products.

As he stands, panting, he hopes Kaneki won't find this idea degrading in anyway.

The baby aisle.

Let him explain: A mug is too hard to drink out of by himself, then so is anything else Hide has in his cupboards. It seems Kaneki couldn't pick it up if he wanted a sip then and there anyway, be it water or a lovely cup of coffee. So, what is a drinking tool especially designed for a helper? Designed for someone that can't pick up a drink without spilling it? A sippy-cup! Genius, I say.

He picks a blue one. There are many in that colour, and pink.

With the one plastic item in hand, he jogs/runs/skips awkwardly to the cash register.

There is a line for the only two registers open.

Dammit.

Now filled with anxiety of being late on his own schedule, Hide fidgets in the shortest line. He jumps from foot to foot, and he certainly doesn't fail to notice the man in front of him and his rather large basket of items. He gets his wallet out to be ready, as something to do.

Come on, come on, come on!

Is Kaneki ok?

Has he woken?

Is he wondering why he is alone in the house?

Is he cold?

"Next, thank you." But the cashier needn't say. Hide jumps in front of her register and hands the cup over.

"Just this, please!"

She is momentarily startled at the sudden cup in front of her face, but she takes it. Not as quickly as Hide would have wanted. Her movements are sluggish, he notes. A snail compared to Hide's insistent fidgeting behind the counter.

"So, just this…?" She asks with a raised eyebrow and Hide makes an effort to hold back the groan of frustration. Now is not the time to be judgmental. It's not the weirdest thing for a teen to buy.

"Yes, yes, just that!"

"Ok, ok," She says, as if trying to calm him down even a bit. But as she slowly, slowly, makes an effort to scan the cup, Hide does the exact opposite. He stresses more, and vows to next time google the stores with self-serves.

Beep.

"Twelve dollars, thank you."

Much to the amazement of the cashier, Hide throws a twenty, grabs the cup, and runs.

That took too much time. He has been gone ten minutes already.

Sometime between getting back to his apartment and his racing thoughts, Hide started to slow his running for two reasons. He is breathing too hard and his legs are slightly screaming, and a thought strikes him, invades his over whelming stress with some reason to ponder instead.

Maybe Kaneki is awake again now, maybe even sitting up. But is this really a case for so much concern? He would just sit there, if past experience was anything to learn from. Furthermore, as Hide fears Kaneki may have another panic attack, the past has also taught him that the three times Kaneki has had any sort of panic attacks were Hide-induced. He was the one to start all of them.

Maybe Hide is worrying too much. Maybe he is over reacting. He would hate that; to smother Kaneki when it isn't needed. That could bring a negative affect for the both of them.

Maybe being out of the house is good for Kaneki.

So Hide slows to a walk, the blue sippy-cup swinging in his hand by his side, and tries to think about that.

Twenty minutes after he had closed it, Hide opens the front door. The first thing he picks up is a sound more than a sight. It is sickening.

Bang.

And Hide regrets ever stepping a foot out the door.

The sound is a head meeting a desk in aguish, in desperation for something Hide has no knowledge of. Kaneki has a grip on the side of the desk Hide was working on, and his back is tensed and hunched in a way Hide thinks would be impossibly painful.

He drops the cup when Kaneki cries out, a gargled cry from the back of his throat.

"Kaneki! Stop, stop! It's ok!" But the shout and a hand to his shoulder does nothing. Kaneki doesn't even notice it. His hand may as well have been air on his skin, and his voice seems a hundred miles away.

Kaneki's head hits the wood again, and Hide hears a splitting sound that he prays is the table.

Kaneki's grip becomes tighter, and so does Hide's.

"S-Stop! Calm down, please!" Hide begs. He thinks he can hear words coming out of Kaneki's mouth. His head doesn't leave the hard wood. A please, a stop. A number. Hide doesn't make sense of any of it. Kaneki is breathing so hard.

Kaneki raises his head again, and Hide grabs both sturdy shoulders.

"No, Kaneki, s-stop this, please! Calm down, you are ok, you ar-," But he can see nothing getting through.

So, before Kaneki hurts himself again, Hide plants his hand on the table where he is going to hit. It is meant to soften the blow for him, if he can do nothing else.

Kaneki bows his head again with a choked cry, and hits Hide's hand with force.

Hide's lasting hand on Kaneki's shoulder squeezes tight and he cuts off his own cry. The pain is astounding. Again he hears a splitting sound. He hadn't realised how hard the blow was going to be, but he doesn't care.

Kaneki's head doesn't move.

"I-It's ok, Kaneki," Hide tries again, and rubs at his back, "You're ok, you're ok," he plans to continue for as long as it takes. Minutes, years.

Kaneki is crying, Hide notices. His hand becomes wet.

Kaneki's breath becomes less forceful and desperate and more shallow as he begins to sob.

"..Hi..de.."

"It's ok, you're safe, we're safe," Hide strokes his back smoothly, lightly, and he thinks it works. He thinks it helps. Kaneki's back slowly returns from a painful bend to a natural arch. His sobs still rattle his body, like winter wind blowing an autumn leaf, but these are few and far between.

Hide does this for twenty minutes before Kaneki's hands let go, and his head raises.

Kaneki doesn't meet Hide's eye. He never does. He looks ahead of him, at the wall the desk presses against. Hide gives a last reassuring rub of his back.

"Better?" Hide asks. He doesn't get an answer, but he needn't question at all. He knew, by the calmed breathing, the straight back, the eyes he can only just see, that Kaneki has calmed down.

Hide slowly, gently, lifts his hand from the desk. A bruise is already showing itself but Hide can feel the damage is a lot worse than that, and the desk is very much split.

He stares at the cracks in the hard wood and wonders what could have caused such an attack. He can only wonder so far, because he was defiantly not here when Kaneki woke up.

He should have been.

Absolute idiot.

Hide hisses at the pain, "H-Hey, want to sit on the couch? I got you something."

He moves Kaneki himself by taking a hand and letting him follow to the couch. Kaneki complies with not even a sound. His face looks sadder than Hide last saw, but he can't be sure. His head is apparently unharmed. That is a relief.

They sit on the couch, and Hide finds the quilt tossed on the floor. Kaneki has his hands by his sides gripping the couch and his head looks down. He appears like a child who was found doing something wrong, Hide compares. But he has done nothing wrong at all. He could never be more than a victim.

Hide gets up and retrieves the plastic cup from the floor by the door. He looks at it for a while longer than necessary with a wrinkled brow, a frown of sudden aggravation and regret. He forces the expression into a small, fake smile before turning back to Kaneki, holding the cup up almost with joy, but it's hollow.

"Here, this is what I got for you. I hope it will help." He shows it to his friend, but Kaneki's head is still down and staring at the stained carpet. Hide's strained smile drops slowly, and he takes in a breath to let back out steadily.

Hide wishes Kaneki would answer.

But how selfish a request that was, and he feels his throat tighten in disgust.

He puts the cup in the high kitchen cupboard for later. Now is not the time, he realises. Maybe tomorrow.

Hide makes his way back to the living room, and doesn't know how to feel about Kaneki being asleep again. Kaneki twitches, and looks like he more passed-out than drifted off into unconsciousness willingly. As much as Hide wishes him sweet dreams and imagines Kaneki having a sleep more peaceful than his waking hours, this is not the reality, Hide only now realises.

Hide walks to the side of the couch and kneels next to that face. As he looks at Kaneki with pity he had no right to, Hide chokes on a sob he can't fully keep down.

"Please don't hurt yourself," He begs in whispers, because that is all he can muster right now. "Please don't do that again."

He takes Kaneki to his bed, as he had promised to give him that morning. He would give him anything. He carries Kaneki with one arm under the back of his knees, and the other supporting his back. He struggles just a bit with that hand he is now positive is fractured, but he pays the pain little mind.

Tucking Kaneki in is nice. Like a perfectionist, he makes sure all but his head is showing, so everything will be warm. He pushes the unruly strands of hair away from Kaneki's open mouth.

"Good night, Kaneki." Hide says, slowly walking to the door backwards as he talks. Kaneki's head moves to the side, but he doesn't wake.

Hide leaves the door between them open again and gets comfortable on the couch with his grandmothers quilt.

"…Sweet dreams…" He wipers uselessly.