Over the past few days, Kaneki has been working with Antieku and things were going well. He still had a lot to learn, but his coffee-making skills were improving or Mr. Yoshimura was lying to him.
The last vestiges of sunlight began to disappear, casting a soft, dim glow over the empty coffee shop. Kaneki took a moment to admire the neatness and orderliness of the space, his eyes scanning the now-empty counters and tables to ensure everything was in its rightful place.
"Everything is checked and put away; I'll go home."
Just as he was about to gather his belongings and head home, a familiar voice broke through the tranquility of the empty shop.
He turned to see the origin of the voice calling his name, realizing it was his senior, Miss Irimi. She had been undoing her apron. Today it was only just them, as Touka had taken a day off to go out with her friend. And Enji had also been gone, leaving just the two of them to manage the shop for the day.
"Kaneki," Miss Irimi called out softly, her voice carrying a sense of calm authority. He couldn't help but feel nervous about being addressed directly by someone he respected.
"Is everything okay?"
The question caught him off guard, and a wave of anxiety washed over him. Did I make a mistake? Overlooked something? Kaneki's mind raced as he frantically searched for any misstep he might have taken. But despite his internal turmoil, he managed to keep a composed exterior.
"I believe everything is in order," Kaneki replied. He had been thorough throughout the day, following the established routines and procedures with unwavering dedication. Still, the fear of disappointing his senior lingered in the back of his mind.
Irimi, known for her reserved nature, observed him silently for a moment. Almost as if she could see the inner workings of his thoughts. Before long, she nodded approvingly, a small smile gracing her lips.
"You've done well today, Kaneki," she said, her voice filled with a gentle warmth. "Touka and Enji would be proud of your progress. It's just the two of us managing the shop today, and I must say, we've been quite the team."
"Miss Irimi. Is everything okay?" The feeling of having messed anything up terrified him. The woman didn't speak much. Not that he minded her reserved nature. They moved like clockwork and got everything done by the end of the day.
"Kaneki, could we talk? Just for a moment on our way out of here? We have a similar route before we split off."
"What could she want with me." The bluntness had him startled. But there was something comforting about Kaya's presence, and he felt a genuine connection with her.
Finding his voice, "Of course, Miss Irimi," a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. As he stepped outside Anteiku, he watched the lights going off one by one, and the sound of the lock twisting shut etched itself into his mind. Irimi appeared beside him, and he felt a mix of excitement and nervousness.
As Kaneki and Miss Irimi stepped out of the closed Anteiku, the city streets were bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. The air was cool and carried a hint of tranquility, providing a calming backdrop to their conversation. They walked side by side, their footsteps falling in sync, creating a rhythmic melody amidst the stillness of the night.
"Miss Irimi wouldn't eat me. She's been nice to me," Kaneki thought aloud, trying to reassure himself.
"Rize did the same," he countered his argument, memories of his encounter with Rize resurfacing.
"She's not like Rize," he quickly added, attempting to differentiate the two women in his mind.
Kaneki's frustration had been brewing since that day, but he knew he had to control these constant thoughts.
"Why am I even thinking about this? It's nothing like what happened with Rize... I should stop dwelling on it," he scolded himself, pushing those thoughts aside.
"Miss Irimi is nice, and that's that," he concluded, trying to focus on the present.
Lost in his thoughts, Kaneki failed to notice the sudden halt of the woman in front of him, resulting in an accidental collision. The impact was gentle, but it was enough to snap him out of his reverie. He felt his face flush with embarrassment as he quickly stammered out an apology,
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Miss Irimi. I didn't mean to bump into you. I was just... preoccupied."
Miss Irimi's demeanor remained unchanged, her eyes calm and understanding. Her presence exuded a sense of tranquility, which helped ease Kaneki's flustered nerves. "It's alright, Kaneki," she replied with a soothing voice. "No harm done. We all get lost in our thoughts from time to time."
Kaneki nodded, thankful for her forgiving nature. As he looked into her eyes, he saw something deeper - profound wisdom and experience that surpassed his own. Despite being a ghoul, Miss Irimi carried herself with grace and poise that fascinated him. She seemed like a living enigma, and he couldn't help but admire her strength.
Feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude, Kaneki nodded, vowing to be more attentive. He admired Miss Irimi's composed demeanor, which seemed to emanate wisdom and experience.
"Kaneki, I've been observing your progress at Anteiku," she began, her voice steady. "And I must say, I'm impressed with your dedication and commitment to your work. You've shown great promise.
His eyes widened in surprise, his heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and pride. He hadn't expected such high praise from someone he admired and respected.
"Miss Irimi," he finally gathered the courage to speak, "I want to thank you for believing in me and seeing my potential at Anteiku. It means a lot to me."
Kaya nodded. There was a momentary pause as if she was carefully choosing her words.
"Kaneki, Yoshimura sees great potential within you," she continued, her voice carrying a hint of earnestness. "But with that potential comes challenges, both within and outside of Anteiku. I want you to remember that you're not alone in this journey. We are here to support each other, to navigate the complexities of our existence as ghouls in a world that often misunderstands us."
Kaneki listened intently, his eyes locked with Miss Irimi's. Her words resonated deeply within him, touching the core of his being. He understood the weight of her message, the significance of the community they had formed within the walls of Anteiku.
"You're right, Miss Irimi," he responded, his voice filled with determination. "I've come to realize that Anteiku is more than just a coffee shop. It's a sanctuary, a place where we can find solace and understanding. And I'm committed to being a part of that, to contribute in any way I can."
Miss Irimi's gaze softened, a sense of pride shining through her eyes. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on Kaneki's shoulder.
"I have faith in you as well, Kaneki," she said, her voice laced with sincerity. "Remember to trust in your strength, but also lean on others when needed. We're here for you, just as you are here for us."
Kaneki glanced at Miss Irimi, admiring her quiet strength and the air of wisdom that seemed to surround her. The familiarity of their route added a sense of comfort to their journey as if each step brought them closer not only to their respective homes but also to a deeper connection.
"So, Miss Irimi," Kaneki began, breaking the silence that had settled between them. "How did you come to join Anteiku? If you don't mind me asking."
Irimi smiled, her eyes reflecting a gentle reminiscence. "Ah, that's a story from quite some time ago," she replied, her voice carrying a touch of nostalgia. "I was wandering, searching for a place where I could belong, where I could find a purpose in this world. And then, fate led me to Anteiku."
She paused for a moment, her gaze shifting to the horizon. Kaneki listened intently, sensing that there was much more to her story.
"It was Yoshimura who found me," she continued, her voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and respect. "He saw something in me, a potential that I had yet to fully grasp myself. He offered me a place at Anteiku, a place where I could find not only help but also a chance to make a difference in the lives of others like us."
Kaneki nodded, his curiosity piqued. "And what made you stay?"
Her eyes glistened with a quiet passion. "It was the sense of community," she replied, her voice tinged with emotion. "Anteiku became more than just a coffee shop to me. It became a haven, a gathering place for those who sought understanding and acceptance. It became a family, a family bonded by the unique struggles we face as ghouls."
For such a quiet woman, Kaneki hadn't been expecting the woman to open her heart up to him. To be normally so reserved, she was letting him into perspective and her story. He could feel his heart swell with a mixture of admiration and gratitude. He had only been a part of Anteiku for a short while, but already he felt the strength of the bond building between them.
"I can see why," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "This place... this family... it's something truly special."
Irimi nodded, her gaze meeting his. "Indeed, Kaneki," she said, her voice carrying a sense of conviction. "And now, you're a part of it too. I believe in you, just as Yoshimura believed in me."
As they continued their walk, Kaneki felt a renewed sense of purpose and determination. He was no longer just a lost soul, but a member of a family that understood and embraced him for who he truly was.
The city lights flickered around them, illuminating their path as they walked side by side, their shared journey unfolding before them. At that moment, Kaneki realized that he had found not only a place to call home but also a mentor and guide in Miss Irimi.
With each step, they moved forward together, their footsteps echoing a promise of resilience and unity. Anteiku had closed its doors for the night, but the spirit of camaraderie and support lived on, lighting their way through the darkness.
The streets were bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, casting long shadows as Kaneki and Miss Irimi walked side by side. The night air carried a cool breeze, causing Kaneki to pull his jacket a little tighter around himself. The silence between them was comfortable, filled with a sense of understanding and shared purpose.
As they walked, Kaneki couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Miss Irimi. Her presence was a constant source of reassurance, and her words had given him renewed determination. He glanced at her, his gaze filled with appreciation.
"Thank you again, Miss Irimi," Kaneki said, breaking the silence. "I appreciate your guidance and support. It means a lot to me."
Miss Irimi smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting a genuine kindness. "You're welcome, Kaneki," she replied. "We're all here to support each other. That's what makes Anteiku so special. It's not just a place of work, but a place where we find strength and understanding in one another."
Kaneki nodded, a sense of belonging washing over him. The path they walked together felt familiar and comforting. It was a shared journey towards self-acceptance and finding their place in a world that often rejected them.
"I've only been here for a week, but I already feel like I've found a home," Kaneki admitted, his voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and amazement. "Everyone at Anteiku has been so welcoming and supportive. It's something I've never experienced before."
Miss Irimi's eyes softened her expression reflecting the deep connection she felt towards the coffee shop and its inhabitants. "Anteiku has a way of bringing people together, of creating a sense of family," she said. "We all understand the struggles and challenges we face as ghouls. It's a place where we can be ourselves, find acceptance, and support one another."
Kaneki couldn't help but be inspired by Miss Irimi's words. He realized that Anteiku was more than just a job or a place to grab a cup of coffee. It was a sanctuary, a haven for those who felt lost and rejected by society.
As they continued walking, their footsteps echoed in harmony, a silent testament to the bond they were forming. Kaneki felt a newfound determination within himself, fueled by the support and acceptance he had found at Anteiku.
"I want to do my best," Kaneki said, his voice filled with determination. "I want to contribute to Anteiku and help create a place where ghouls can find solace and acceptance, just like I have."
Miss Irimi's smile widened, her belief in him evident in her eyes. "I do not doubt that you will, Kaneki," she replied. "Your presence alone has already made a difference. Remember, we're all in this together."
With a shared understanding and a renewed sense of purpose, Kaneki and Miss Irimi continued their walk, their parting point drawing nearer. A crossroads. Where they would split off, to follow their own stories.
"Miss Irimi, do you mind if I stayed with you for the night?" Kaneki blurted out.
The talk had reminded him of the loneliness, that awaited him at his apartment. The missing comfort of a mother's touch, the freshness of a clean house, and just for someone to go home to when the day was over and creeping emptiness followed him around.
Miss Irimi paused, contemplating Kaneki's request, before responding with a warm smile, "Of course, Kaneki. You're welcome to stay at my place tonight. Sometimes, we all need a little company to fill the void."
Gratitude washed over Kaneki as he nodded in appreciation. It was a small act of kindness, but it meant the world to him. With the weight of his loneliness temporarily lifted, he felt a glimmer of hope.
As they reached Miss Irimi's home, she opened the door, inviting him in. The warmth of the place enveloped him, a stark contrast to the coldness he felt in his apartment. It was a cozy and welcoming atmosphere, and he found solace in being surrounded by someone who understood the struggles of his dual existence.
Kaneki stepped into Miss Irimi's home, and a sense of comfort washed over him like a gentle embrace. The cozy ambiance filled him with a feeling of belonging that he hadn't experienced in a long time. The walls adorned with artwork and the soft glow of lamps created a warm and inviting atmosphere, making him feel at ease.
"Make yourself at home, Kaneki," Miss Irimi said warmly, leading him to the living room. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"Thank you, Miss Irimi," Kaneki replied, settling into a plush couch. "Tea would be lovely."
"You can call me Kaya, we're not at work so it's okay to be less formal here." Kaya slipped off her jacket, "And no coffee? I'm sure that coffee would have been your preferred choice."
Kaneki smiled gratefully at Kaya's gesture and her invitation to be less formal. It felt refreshing to be in a more relaxed setting, where he could let his guard down.
"You're right, Miss Kaya. Coffee is usually my go-to, but I appreciate the change of pace. Tea sounds perfect for this moment," he said, feeling a sense of ease in her presence.
"Fair. I'll be back."
As he sat there, he couldn't help but feel grateful for her generosity. It wasn't just the physical warmth of the house, but the emotional warmth that made all the difference. Miss Irimi understood the struggle he faced as a ghoul, the constant battle between his human and ghoul instincts, and the loneliness that came with it.
Kaya returned with two steaming cups of tea and handed one to Kaneki. As they sipped their drinks, the warmth spread through their bodies, mirroring the emotional warmth that enveloped them.
With a cup of steaming tea in hand, Kaneki felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He felt safe, surrounded by someone who didn't judge him for what he was. It was liberating to be in the company of a ghoul who had learned to find harmony within herself.
As Kaneki took a sip of the tea, its comforting warmth seemed to permeate his entire being. He savored the taste, grateful not only for the physical comfort it brought but also for the emotional connection it symbolized. In Miss Irimi's company, he felt understood and accepted, something he had longed for but rarely experienced.
"I must say, your tea is delightful, Kaya," Kaneki complimented with a smile. "It's as if it's imbued with the same warmth and kindness you've shown me."
Kaya chuckled softly, her eyes reflecting genuine warmth. "Thank you, Kaneki. I'm glad you find it comforting."
"My mother used to make me tea and would read a book to me, she said it would help me connect closer to my father," Kaneki spoke, the remnants of his human life were here and there, but the small comforts brought him some solidarity.
Kaya listened attentively as Kaneki shared a piece of his past. The mention of his mother brought a softness to her eyes, and she could sense the longing for those simple comforts that were now memories of a distant time.
"It sounds like your mother was a wonderful person," Kaya replied gently. "It's the little things like tea and reading a book together that create special connections and memories. Those memories are a part of you, Kaneki, and they're worth cherishing."
Kaneki nodded, a bittersweet smile on his face. "Yes, she was. I miss her every day."
The changed expression on his face told her what she needed, "What happened to your mother, Kaneki?"
"She worked so hard for me. My aunt. Constantly giving her money, until she passed away in her sleep. Leaving me in my aunt's care." There was an undertone of bitterness, it was faint, but Kaya caught it. She wouldn't push it more. She knew that some wounds were too sensitive to probe further, and she didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. Instead, she offered a comforting presence, giving him the space to share as much as he felt comfortable.
"I'm sorry for the pain you've experienced, Kaneki," Kaya said softly. "It must have been a challenging time for you, losing your mother and being placed in your aunt's care."
Kaneki nodded, his gaze drifting momentarily as he processed the memories. "Yes, it was tough. My aunt wasn't as understanding or caring as my mother. We had our differences, and it made the loss of my mother even harder to bear."
"I can imagine," Kaya replied gently, not wanting to pry further into his personal feelings. "It's never easy when there are changes in our support system, especially after losing someone so dear."
He appreciated her understanding and the lack of judgment. "Thank you, Kaya. It's not something I talk about often, but it feels good to share it with you."
Kaya offered a warm smile. "Sometimes, sharing our burdens with someone we trust can help lighten the load. You don't have to carry everything on your own, Kaneki. We're all here for you at Anteiku. How about we call it a night? I only have my bed, but you're more than welcome to sleep on the couch."
"Thank you, Kaya," he said, touched by her kindness. "I appreciate it. And yes, a good night's rest sounds wonderful right now."
Kaya led him to the living room where she had set up a cozy couch for him to sleep on. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the room, creating a soothing atmosphere. As Kaneki settled in, he felt a sense of comfort wash over him.
"Here's a blanket," Kaya said, handing him a soft throw. "Make yourself comfortable, and if you need anything during the night, don't hesitate to wake me."
"Thank you, Kaya," Kaneki replied, pulling the blanket around himself. "You've been so kind to me, and I'm grateful for your understanding."
Kaya smiled warmly. "It's my pleasure, Kaneki. We all have our struggles, and it's important to support each other through them. You're part of our family now, and we take care of each other."
As Kaneki settled into sleep, he felt a sense of belonging that he hadn't felt in a long time. The bitterness that had lingered earlier had softened, replaced by the warmth of Kaya's compassion and the acceptance of the Anteiku family.
In the darkness of the night, he found comfort in knowing that he wasn't alone anymore. He had found a place where he could be himself, where he could share his burdens and find understanding. A road that led him away from the labyrinth that was his mind and to the safety of a friend.
As the night deepened, Kaya was gently roused from her sleep by a soft shuffling sound. She opened her eyes to find Kaneki standing at the foot of her bed, his eyes closed in sleep. He seemed to be sleepwalking.
Kaya sat up and patted the space beside her. "Kaneki, come here," she whispered.
On instinct, the sleeping boy walked over to her bed. Kaya moved over to make space for him, as he rested his head against her shoulder. She rubbed his hair, her touch soothing and reassuring.
In his sleep, Kaneki mumbled soft words, fragments of dreams and memories intertwining. Kaya couldn't make out the details, but she knew that he was reliving moments from his past, his subconscious mind still grappling with the emotions he carried.
"I'm here, Kaneki," Kaya whispered tenderly, her voice barely audible in the quiet room, "You're not alone. I'm right here with you."
She continued to stroke his head, Kaneki seemed to relax further, his breathing steady. The weight of his burdens felt lighter in her presence, and he found comfort in the knowledge that he wasn't facing his struggles alone.
In that tender moment, Kaya flashbacked to what was once a little girl who needed help. Someone to comfort in a time of need, for her Kaneki, was that little girl who cried for help.
The night wore on, Kaneki's mutters grew quieter, and his tense muscles eased. The warmth of their shared embrace enveloped them both, creating a cocoon of understanding and support. Transitioning from the upward embrace to side by side, her arms envelop him in a protective embrace. He clung to her like a lost child seeking comfort...
Kaneki's sleep became more peaceful, his mutters fading into silence. It was as if he had found respite from the turmoil of his mind, finding comfort and safety in Kaya's weight of Kaneki's past and the struggles he carried seemed to dissipate in the warmth of their shared connection.
With a soft smile, Kaya pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead, a silent gesture of reassurance and affection. "Rest easy, Kaneki," she whispered. "You're not alone. I'm here for you."
She marveled at the intimacy of the moment, the profound bond that had formed in just a short period she cared a whole lot more for the boy, his growth and evolution during his short time at Anteiku, but this vulnerable side of herself was something she hadn't been expecting.
Mr. Yoshiumuro tasked them to help him adjust before he self-destructed, but Kaya's empathy did a little more than just the essentials.
Kaya had no plans of doing anything like this. Just to offer him some advice and to congratulate him on his upcoming from what many would have never achieved. Instead, she said "yes" to letting him spend a night with her.
Now here he was, clung to her body; his thin frame a sign of the strain of becoming a half-ghoul that refused to eat.
" I wish I had that same strength all those years ago," Kaya closed her eyes.
A/n: Hoping you all like some of these changes and 'improvements'. I mainly wanted to focus on Kaya in this chapter to build up on Kaneki's vulnerability. He's fragile, hiding behind a mask and a touch of genuine care never hurts. Before the inevitable shift. So let's enjoy Antieku Cafe before it all goes to hell.
Side note, I need to start rewatching / re-reading TG / Re: .