57Hello Beautiful.
It has been been about three years since I have written anything but an essay. Unsurprisingly my life has gotten better in the mean time, but I found myself in such a good mood I just had to write something depressing to even things out.
Here is the thing- The Raid on Aogiri didn't come as quickly as anyone would have liked, and Kanki suffers far worse than ever before in the hands of Yamori. He escapes alone. Months after the Raid, Hide is walking on his last thread of hope to find his friend. The two meet again next to a dumpster, but something is terribly wrong.
1.
A Morning Stroll
Why is he walking, at a time so dark, in weather like this? The cold bites him hard and seeps its harsh teeth down to his bones. His need for it makes no sense, but the sensation undeniably makes him feel better, or at least, feel something.
He had needed to get out. He realises he needs a stroll outside. His body only knew before his head.
His mind without a thought, Hide gazes at the ice patterns on the hard street before his boot-clad feet. Nothing of much importance has been on his mind in a long while, not since the Raid on Aoigiri. Not even his destination is clear, if there is one. He just needs to walk, so he keeps walking. It's a simple decision void of contemplation or second thoughts. Walking through the thresh hold of his front door was as easy as it is to breath in the relatively fresh air. Maybe he wouldn't go back.
Hide doesn't mind that thought when it comes to him suddenly but with no surprise. He doesn't have anything against going back either, but what was there? A small apartment filled with over-due papers for both his job and his college degree. A messy bed, in a room with piles of clothes he's always too tired to tend to. Dusty pictures in faded frames he stares at too much; particularly the ones including a black haired man he once knew very well.
Kaneki.
If there is one person to push into his thoughts the most in his hazy days, it would be Kaneki with no surprise. Lately less so, like most things, but the tug of an undefined and potent pain was still there, as well as unanswered questions higher than that pile of damned clothes.
Where are you? Had once topped his long list and was met with a determination he can't remember having.
What could I have done? Now lays alone, and claims his despair.
A sudden gust of wind as bitter as his wondering thoughts startles Hide, and only when the shock passes does he realise how tired he is. How stupid this idea was. Who goes for a leisurely stroll at 12am?
Only idiots, Hide thinks. He tugs his cote tighter around himself, constrictingly so, and turns around with one swift motion. He only gets so far before deciding to take shelter in an alleyway and wait for the wind to calm down. As much as he likes the cold biting his cheeks, reminding him that he is here, he couldn't stand even that wind much longer. He closes his weary eyes and leans his back on the brick wall.
As he listens to his attacker and only companion howl in the dark, Hide feels that undefined pain once again. He wonders if Kaneki is in this small insult of a storm, or was once in a similar cold, very alone.
What could I have done?
Answerers to this question always came in abundance, but none ever satisfied. Hide supposes they are not supposed to. The answers made him feel hollow, as if someone had taken a shovel to his insides to leave only the pain, despair, and guilt; what he surely deserves.
He could have helped Kaneki. I could have. The answers will always come easily to this harsh conclusion. He replays the days and weeks he could have helped Kaneki. But that was not what he did at all, not how things played out, and now he has no idea what has become of his best friend. He was too busy playing the man behind the scenes where he thought he would be most useful and resourceful. But to conclude, he watched on the comfortable sideline as Kaneki suffered so much, so alone.
Can he even call himself a friend?
Kaneki could be alive.
Kaneki could be dead.
Hide would not know either way.
Hide grips the fabric of his shirt at his chest and his throat constricts, as if keeping something down, maybe a scream, maybe his thoughts and feelings ripping a tormented hole in his heart. His eyes squeeze tightly shut.
They open when a sound jumps apart from the howl of the wind. It comes from down the alley, like a tin falling, maybe a can. Hide's eyes stay on the floor and he waits for something more to happen.
It must have been the wind or even a cat if an animal was as stupid as Hide to be out here. The victim of whatever caused the sound really was a can, and it roles innocently in front of him. A Pepsi can, to be clear, crushed but not extremely so.
Hide looks down the dark alley where the already rare light doesn't seem to favour. Even as the wind dies down he takes slow steps further into the black.
How stupid, Hide thinks again. He has been thinking this a lot lately. What am I doing? But his feet keep moving. Again his body acts against his head.
He comes to a dumpster of the darkest green, and it's on its side. Its trash stretches out to cover the ground as far as it is able to reach, as if it has a desperate want to touch the opposite wall.
Not cats, and the wind wasn't strong enough in the alley to do this much damage.
Maybe Hide should be more afraid, more cautious even, at the oddity of this discovery. He knows as well as anyone the dangers lurking about the streets of Tokyo at night. But maybe that is another reason he left his apartment at such a time. Fear is a feeling; a strong one. However, he has only a slight sense of curiosity now. The danger his decision is presenting him with isn't getting to him.
His decision? It doesn't seem to be his at all. There is no option, only one foot in front of the other.
So Hide steps on the trash, over it, slips once, and stills, because there is another sound.
Scratching, scratching, and scratching on the wall to his right behind the tipped dumpster.
Hide's breath runs faster as he takes more steps forward. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Hide thinks, This is suicidal, and maybe it is. Maybe, not so deep down, he doesn't mind that truth at all.
When Hide finally gets his glimpse around the metal his breath stopes immediately.
White hair is the first thing anyone would notice, and it seems to glow in the night like the beaconing of an angel's halo. A back faces Hide clad in a nice, black shirt.
Hide chokes, and his throat burns when supressing a cry of astonishment and relief.
The man is crouched with one hand upon the wall.
Kane…ki, Hide barely allows himself to think, because it has been months since he has given himself permission to hope. He steps forward, but finds it inexcusably hard. He almost falls to his knees.
The man, Kaneki, doesn't move.
"…Hey," Hide finally speaks a greeting, and he hates how it sounds so pitiful. He has imagined seeing Kaneki hundreds of times. Countless, really. Seeing him down the street; he would run to him. Finding him at his door; coolly invite him inside with a coffee and a reassuring smile, if the situation permits it. Kaneki has yelled at him as well, in these little plays. Blamed him, furious, as he has every right to be.
You knew?! Why didn't you tell me you knew all along? Why didn't you help me, Hide?!
Now, right now when it mattered, he is a blank page where a president's speech should be.
Kaneki, right in front of him, still hasn't moved. At all.
"Hey, Kaneki. It's me. It's Hide."
Nothing. Hide shifts on his feet, nervous or cold or both.
"I-I understand if you don't want to talk." Hide continues, grabbing at sentences from the roleplays he used to have in his head. "But I…." And he is at another loss. He looks everywhere but Kaneki.
Until Kaneki's hand moves. It scratches the wall once then stops, a sickening crumbling sound of the bricks under his nails to fill the silence between them. His pure hair shudders more than he does when a brisk breeze slips past them.
"Kaneki…I knew. I have known for a long time now." Hide says it louder over the wind, but still speaks softer than he is known for. He tries not to cling to his jacket sleeves in anxiety as he admits this. He is sure his friend would know what he is referring to. "But I don't care about that, man." He says, stronger but still soft. Hide takes steps forward, suddenly regaining a bout of confidence until he is kneeling next to Kaneki.
Nothing still. Was Kaneki so mad at him? Confused, possibly?
"Come on man. Kaneki, let's get out of the cold, ok?" And his hand meets a dry, icy shoulder.
…
…
"Kaneki?"
No, something is wrong.
Hide lightly shakes Kaneki's shoulder, and Kaneki scratches the wall again with broken fingernails. Hide roughly shuffles in front of his best friend to be face-to-face for the first time in six months.
Yes, something is very wrong. Hide was wrong. Kaneki's strands of hair are not pure and white as he thought he saw. It is mattered; it's filled with dirt, blood, garbage. Kaneki's nice, black shirt is in reality ripped and torn everywhere, and it isn't supposed to be black. Once-white jeans are cut from above his knees as if a chainsaw was taken to them, and by the look if not the smell, they are soiled.
How was he so blind?
"Ka…Kaneki?"
Kaneki idly moves his hand.
Scratch.
"Hey, hey, Kaneki," Hide whippers, distressed. Carefully, as if he were the thinnest of glass, Hide caresses either side of his friend's freezing face and locks eyes, dark brown to pale grey.
Nothing.
"No…I-I, Kaneki, what happened to you?" But he knows by now there would be no answer. Those eyes look past him for the longest distance, and his hand, again, rubes his fingers into the rough stone.
"Hey," Hide gently says, his whispers are astoundingly soft, "You need to stop that, man." He puts his hand atop the freezing, bloody one and brings it to Kaneki's lap.
Then, he takes off his jacket with much less than a thought to ponder or discuss. There is no contemplation. He helps Kaneki slowly, so, so slowly, to put it on and Kaneki's first sound is a small whine as his right arm is pulled gently in.
"I'm sorry," Hide says, but he doesn't know what Kaneki finds so confronting. He doesn't know why Kaneki doesn't say. He knows he isn't apologising for the jacket. "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, Kaneki."
Another arm and another whine, another hushed and choked apology.
Hide zips the jacket shut.
"Warmer?" He asks, and rubes over Kaneki's arms to make sure it is. He tries to smile, but only tries, and Kaneki hugs himself with another whine from his sealed mouth.
"Kaneki," Hide addresses.
Kaneki doesn't look up, doesn't uncurl or make a sound.
"Let's go home."
It's surprising how much he doesn't think about the cold. Now without a jacket it should be unbearable, but that never crosses Hide's mind. He dashes down the many streets of Tokyo, determined only to get the man he is holding to a warm, safe place.
Hide tries his best to be fast but also accommodating to Kaneki. The man has his chin on Hide's shoulder and they are chest-to-chest. Hide grips Kaneki's new jacket to support his back, and an arm under his butt. It is awkward considering the lack of a height difference, Kaneki's slack form and the messy hair in his face, but Hide makes it work.
Kaneki used to be shorter.
There are few people anywhere at such an hour and the run back is clear with little disturbance, Hide's biggest battle is the wind. He still takes the alleyways, just to be safe.
Hide tries to run as well as keep steady, but again Kaneki's teeth clash and he whines an unhealthy sound.
"Sorry, buddy." Hide manages to say through ragged breathing, and gets some hair in his mouth as a result.
They are up the apartment complex's concrete stairs with a struggle, but again, Hide makes it work. He has to.
He holds Kaneki tighter as he walks the outside balcony and comes to his door, but realises he has to reach for his keys in his pants pocket when his arms are already very full.
"Shit. Umm," He looks for a chair to put Kaneki on, but his friend has to settle for the hard, concrete floor.
Hide can't remember ever being as delicate as he is now. He gradually descends to his knees, as slow as a crane, and only then does he start to place Kaneki on the floor just as slowly. First Kaneki's butt, then his legs and Kaneki tilts forward to rest his forehead on Hide's shoulder. Another whine comes from the back of his throat. Kaneki doesn't let go of the back of Hide's shirt.
That is okay, Hide just needs his hands.
"Just a second, Kaneki, and we will be out of the cold, ok?" Hide fusses over his cargo-pants pockets (why did he feel the need to have so many pockets?) and he produces a key shortly with a 'finally' and puts Kaneki back in his arms.
With a lot less juggling of bodies than he thought would be needed, Hide opens the door to their home.
The living room is dark when Hide walks them through the threshold, and it remains so until Hide gently plops Kaneki on the couch and he is free to turn on the lights.
Disgusting is a fare description for the apartment, the living room is no exception. Hide can't remember the last time he vacuumed the light blue (he thinks) rug. Mugs and folders hide the coffee table. The couch is small and brown and the cleanest place in the living room. It sits against a cream wall that adorns a pin-board filled with paper Hide has long forgotten the purpose of.
Kaneki curls into himself as soon as he is left without Hide to hold, and Hide quickly closes the front door.
"Are you still cold?" Hide fusses. Even as he asks this he is walking toward his bedroom for a blanket.
Now, if the living room is bad, his bedroom is evil. The dirty clothes pile of hell spreads anywhere it wants, as if giving the room a horrible hug. With the trash, papers and sheets, Hide forgets what the floor is supposed to look like. It takes only a second to retrieve his quilt, for it is on the floor at the door.
Hide puts the quilt (a very colourful and thick one his Grandma had made) over Kaneki, who is still, literally and metaphorically, frozen on the couch. He tucks and rubs the quilt as much as he can to warm the man.
How long was he out there for? It feels as though he has never been warm.
As Hide slowly realises he has done everything he can to keep Kaneki keep warm for now, he finally sits down in front of the couch. In front of Kaneki.
Kaneki has closed his eyes, how long ago Hide doesn't know, but he is happy for it.
Happy.
Kaneki is here, Kaneki is sleeping on his couch, and Kaneki is alive!
Hide either doesn't notice his head falling to the ground or he is too relived to care. He passes out on the floor beside the couch, beside his alive, warm best friend.