I recognise that this work was produced on the traditional lands of the Kaurna and Ngadjuri peoples.

AUTHORS NOTE:

Ok. I'm going to try and explain where we are in the timeline. So, our starting point is Ichika at 3 years old – two years younger than she is in the final Tokyo Ghoul cannon. Touka gave birth to Ichika sometime during the ending of "Re:".

"Re:" Takes place over about three(ish) years. Touka starts "Re:" as a 21-year-old woman. I'm making a lot of assumptions but effectively I'm saying Touka is pregnant with and gives birth to Ichika at 22. That's a decision inspired by "Love and Revolution" by LolitaBandita.

Thus, Touka and Ken are 25 and 26 respectively at chapter one. That basically means that for every character in this fic, I'm finding their age at the beginning of "Re:", adding four years, then subtracting eighteen years to find their current age – for characters with no age listed on the Wiki I'm guessing on behaviour, law, and appearance.

E.G. Ken (22 +4 ˗18 =8) OR: Yomo (31 +4 ˗18 =17).

[][][][][][]

Ichika wears a cape.

"No."

"Couldn't be."

"Right."

"They'll be a relative of Komo's or something."

"Hm. Let's leave – go to Yomo's for tonight?"

"I think that's a good idea."

"Will Uncle Yomo let me play the PlayStation?" Ichika butted in.

Ken smiled, "if you ask nicely, I'm sure he will."

[][][][][][]

It was another hour and a half of driving before arriving at Ichika's grand uncle's apartment.

Touka was carrying her daughter on her hip, while Ken moved their bags. They were quiet as they approached the entrance, Touka encouraging Ichika to buzz no. 13 for them. Fortunately, it seemed rather mild for an autumn night.

Shortly after buzzing, Touka and Ken could roughly make out Yomo through the entrance's privacy screen.

The door opened, and each Kaneki took a moment to take in Yomo's familiar scent; Ken sighing and Touka slumping.

A disgruntled voice: "Who the fuck are you?"

The Kaneki's finally gave in to panic.

[][][][][][]

It was a quiet drive out of the 4th ward.

The day had turned to night.

Tokyo so often seemed like a sleepless, ceaseless, being. They passed stores, restaurants, and quaint cafés, pulling into and from busy streets and quiet avenues, The engine humming lowly, putting their daughter to sleep again.

For what it was, it was a solum drive. Ken and Touka remained a united bulwark for the daughter: they always had in times of stress. Ichika was tense, even asleep.

But something about it this time… This is all different, Ken mused.

He pulled the car over, turning the ignition off and resting his head in his hands: there really was only one place for a Ghoul to go to in times like this.

They were…

Well.

Home.

In the secluded underneath of the 24th ward, Touka found herself reflecting that their – now extended – camping trip had developed a deeply macabre atmosphere.

They had stayed here, in the winding under-dark of service tunnels, subways, caves, and sewers, while still rebels. This passage specifically was a hold close to the surface and, as it had been intended as a subway station, it lacked the risk of flooding.

Ichika didn't like the dark: "I just wanted to PlayStation."

"We know honey. We'll see what we can do tomorrow. Maybe go to a park?"

That had Ichika tearing up. The stress from the day seemed to have reached its zenith.

Touka couldn't help but wonder what her child remembered from this place. Still, ever the problem solver, Ken had taken Ichika by the hand, led her to a wall, and started colouring and drawing with her.

She placed the heater down along with the rest of their electronics and looked to their red tent. She closed her eyes and recalled the powder-light of early sunrise gleaming through the tents dye.

I can't believe I'm homeless again.

Seeming to have sensed her distress, her husband held her, powerful arms snaking about her middle. Touka leaned back into him.

"This is just for the night. We can move somewhere else tomorrow after getting into contact with Mr. Yoshimura."

"It'll be strange to talk to him again, Ken. Strange to be in Anteiku after its demolition."

He 'humed', the vibrations from his chest pressing against her back. He kissed the crown of her head.

"We have shelter, three months of "synthetic" foods, 66,000 Yen. We have various utility items: the "kitchen knives" Suzuya and Mutsuki gifted…"

"I know. It's a best of the worst scenario. And hay: good news is we don't have to return the car to the rental, right?"

Ken chuckled.

Touka smiled.

Turning in his arms, she brought her hand to his face, soothing her thumb over the hypertrophic scaring underneath his left eye.

"Tomorrow's the first step to righting all of this."

[][][][][][]

They hadn't been able to agree on a time to enter Anteiku. As such they compromised and arrived at the a few minutes after preschool was let out. Made faceless in the crowd. Obscurity within the obvious, Ichika's godfather might call it.

For Touka, entering Anteiku again was – not what she expected it to be. She thought she'd feel something; numb maybe. Yet as she pulled off the street and ascended the steps to the building second floor, rounding into the entrance way family in tow and Ken's hand in her own, she felt… fine?

It wasn't like nothing had changed: she remembered watching on the news as this café – her home – had been tourn down and bulldozed.

She'd read the files; the doves haven't gone into much detail.

But Mr. Yoshimura had died just a block away from here.

And in the V14?

In the very passage they'd taken up to the 20th ward today, taken to reach this café? In the reports they'd been so much blood – mess – they hadn't been able to stop it flowing into the water treatment.

But she felt fine.

Ichika was nestled atop her husband's shoulders, face pressed cutely into his white goose hair; her favourite blanket wrapped about her shoulders and left hanging down Ken's back.

Anteiku's coffee room looked much the same. The contrast created by the change from concrete to natural wooden bords was still perfectly jarring. The booths along the far wall and their green upholstery still looked cozy. The coffee bar with black and brown stools to the left of the entrance and the bay windows to the right.

Ichika's sight was glued to the small view they gave over the street.

She sat them down at one of three the tables opposite the bar, so her daughter could still see the street. Ken settled Ichika and began trying to catch the eye of one of the staff.

None of them were recognisable. She couldn't even tell if they were Ghouls at first glance. Then a young man approached, and the ghoulishness became apparent – male Ghouls had a rustic must, like congealed blood. Touka tried to seem disarming.

"Could we have two espressos and a silly face biscuit?" The server nodded. "Oh, and could we also speak to the manager?" added Ken.

That brought him up a little short, though he agreed to the request, nonetheless.

They sat quietly as he left, Ichika pointing out and narrating passing people and things that caught her interest through the window, Touka joining in to try and maintain some normalcy.

"And she goes purple sometimes when she's home – but she hides it under her coat."

"She does! But why?"

"Because purple is a very bad colour? And she's embarrassed!"

Ken touched her arm, pulling her attention to – a rather younger manager. Early fifties?

It wasn't so jarring… but then she'd largely forgotten what Mr. Yoshimura had looked like. She could remember forehead wrinkles, crow's feet, and laugh lines – he'd had a kind smile.

"Good afternoon. I don't believe we've met?" His voice was warm, had he spoken like this before? He still had that smile.

"We haven't" Touka replied. "But we understood you might be able to help us."

Ne nodded along: "And how do you need help?"

"Food, identities, and establishment into anything above the 24th." Touka responded.

His smile took within it an aspect of the grim. "Food for three more we can manage but establishment… Identity… This conversation may take some time to conclude."

Ken became rather intense. "If you can spare the time to help us, we can pay it forward. So long as our daughter Ichika can manage the tedium."

Mr Yoshimura smiled: "So that's her name? Good after noon my dear."

"Hi Mr Yoshimura." She seemed tourn between hiding from him or soaking up the new source of attention. "Mum and Dad think you're really good at helping."

He laughed; voice still warm: "Do they? Them I must try not to let them down!"

Ken nodded seriously "We do." He bowed his head, continuing, "and again, thank you for taking the time to listen."

Gee. Why'd she go and marry such a cute dork?

She intervened. "Could we take this somewhere more privet?"

The older man nodded emphatically, standing, and leading them into the storeroom.

Ichika brought her cookie along.

[][][][][][]

They moved out the café and down the stairs to the street before Mr. Yoshimura opened the garage door situated under the bay windows.

Here, Touka could see, a lot had changed: There were no dividing rooms, for example, just an old garage with a warn paint splattered concrete floor and cluttered space.

Some things were similar though: the dark classical furniture echoed her youth. This, it seemed, finally affected her, because suddenly, she rather wanted to smile and cry; she'd forgotten so much of this place.

"So dark" Ichika whispered.

The older man startled: "Your daughter…"

Ichika looked up at the three of them, confusion bright in her mismatched eyes. One Ken's blue but other a Ghoulish red.

"Are you not both Ghouls? I could swear I scented–"

"Ken's an artificial Ghoul. A one-eye, like our Ichika. Genetically he's human, but… well. That's about all that's human."

Yoshimura's expression shifted, becoming stiff. Forced, even.

We've made him uncomfortable…

Ken noticed as well. "It wasn't the CCG, Mr. Yoshimura. I was nineteen when it happened. It's something of a story – it's how I met Touka, actually."

"Then, Ichika, she's a half Ghoul?"

Touka smiled, smoothing her daughters bangs behind her ear: "She is."

We're not here to cause trouble, come on old man Yoshimura, help us… "I know some Ghouls find it… Look, we need help Mr. Yoshimura. That's all."

"We're rather desperate: we have a tent, a car, heaters, a battery, phones, a laptop, utensils, plates, cups, string-lights, torches, candles, sleeping bags, and four more sets of clothes aside from we're currently wearing…"

As Ken pleaded their case Touka found herself drawn to a varnished wooden cabinet. Four wide draws made its for its bottom half, while – at her chest – it became a series of shelves protected behind glass doors. There were pictures of a much younger Yoshimura, and perhaps his partner, as well as a variety of copper pans, pots, and kettles, porcelain and… And china…

Shit.

The good china that she had stumbled into and broken her first day staying with Yoshimura as a girl – it was such a vivid memory. She and her little brother Ayato had cried for almost an hour while Mr. Yoshimura cleaned and tried to comfort them.

He'd made her feel so safe. Made them welcome.

Ayato and I aren't here yet…

"If either of you have experience working a kitchen, I can arrange something."

Ken gave a bright smile: "I can do that."

"I could work in a café? I used to run a café before – uh – we had Ichika."

Knowing her husband as she did, she could interpret his "nice save" expression clearly.

"I have a lot of experience fighting and tracking, as well." Touka finished.

The older man "humed" as he took a moment to consider "I think I can make this work, but I'll need some time to be sure." He gave a rather thin smile. "Yes. Come back in three days: I'll have something by then!"

The Kaneki's could scarcely contain their gratitude. But something dwelled on Touka's mind, demanding her attention.

They shook hands, and made their exit but as soon as they had walked around the blocks corner she blurted out: "We're not there – Ayato and I."

That brought her husband up short.

"Are you sure? They couldn't be at school or -"

"No: I know they're not there yet."

Ken stared… "This camping trip really is going to hell, isn't it?"

[][][][][][]

They'd began the conversation once their daughter dosed off almost an hour ago. Ken was sat in his camp chair, the low haze of the string lights encompassing their new den.

Touka was listless about the space, steps silent on the concrete, hands firmly at her hips. "What even happens if we interact with them? I mean, nothing should happen – the big reality braking event already occurred, and all off the consequences should have played out already right?"

She stopped. "Necessarily. Our being in existence makes…"

She began moving again. "Or maybe not necessarily, shit; if we interact with them in any way that disrupts our original timeline we could, theoretically, remove ourselves from existence couldn't we?"

Existential crisis.

Ken's had more than a few.

When he was much younger, he called those quiet moments of dawning thought – those that flowered from a goodbook –crises.

Then he became a Ghoul, and the perspective of crisis changed.

Even in the last few years, during episodes of psychosis, that perspective had changed again.

And now again.

"I'm unsure of a lot of things right now." His binding grip on a slumped Ichika kept him from floating.

Touka nodded: "Right."

"I think your right, though. So far we've had almost no impact on the current Ken and Touka that we know of, so all future events that led to you and me, to Ichika, and to us moving through time have not been disturbed."

Touka's nodding became more enthusiastic: "Right. So, if we were to move out of Japan and stay under the radar we would keep existing, and our original timeline would be fine."

"Theoretically."

"Except the original timeline was a shit-show."

"I guess?"

"And leaving means me and my brother spend years homeless."

"Which is awful."

With fluid movements Touka sat beside him and Ichika, groggily bringing their daughter back into wakefulness.

"And it all theoretical anyway. Literally nothing could happen if we interact with this time's versions of ourselves." Ken couldn't help but note how beautiful his wife was in the low light. "And what's the worst that could happen Ken?"

"Our daughter ceases to exist."

"Fuck."

He closed his eyes, and focused on the wight in his lap, heart beating fast as he covered Ichika's ears.

"It would be instantaneous."

"Theoretically."

"…Theoretically."

They sat quietly for another hour and a half, before deactivating the heater and moving into their tent.

Ken soothed a hand through Touka's hair, Ichika sleeping soundly between them.

"Fuck it."

"Hm. Fuck it."

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