Chapter Text
ἔξοδος
ORESTE
As for me —
what harm can it do
to die in words?
I save my life and win glory besides!
Can a mere story be evil? No, of course not —
so long as it pays in the end.
I know of shrewd men
who die a false death
so as to come home
all the more valued.
Yes, I am sure:
I will stand clear of this lie
and break on my enemies like a star.
Two holes in a skull: this is how Kaneki ends. Two dots, which destroy a face: this is how Ken ends. Wanton, brutal violence shreds his body like a storm. It only leaves –
The trickle of air
Coming out of his mouth
The trickle of words echoing
In the cave
In the song of running water, in the soft light of a dying star; in the blue waves of a bird’s shadow; here, in the unworldly words, in the untold syllables and the lost letters, is Kaneki Ken. You cried so many tears, you spilled so much blood, your voice is so rough from your screams; you kissed the words with your lips, you embraced the calamity, sewed all these small tragedies together with your entire being. Yet the dream and the veil they unite - are frail, and infinite, and lack the single truth that would make them a reality.
When you thought you were making a meaning out of yourself, you made yourself the echo
Of an echo
And when you wept, you did not see the people who saw; who wept, too, for Kaneki Ken, ugly tears of regret.
It is now time for us to leave; close a shuddering curtain on Kaneki Ken. Leave him in the gulch of his dreams, where he plunged, alone. You did not see the signs; you refused to believe the only believable thing. Oh, Kaneki. All of this was merely your destiny. How unfortunate did you have to be!
It is now time for us to leave; leave the quivering voice, the pale shaking hands that clench the soft fabric of pain, the pierced stomach and the broken ribs. The three grey sisters deserted your body; the Erlkönig took your heart and gave it to his grey lithic daughters; an eagle ate your liver; a sad-eyed Hero dug two big rounds into your head.
In your mouth the taste of blood replaces the taste of coffee. How delightful the dream was! – Now, as the birds and the stars and the Gods decided, everything must end.
Maybe Kaneki had already ended – on the bridge of a nose, in the last tremor of a breath, on the tired slender thread cut short by candid selfishness.
You breath out a last moan; a complaint to the gods and to yourself;
Air escapes for the last time from your lungs; it has no shape.
This is the last echo of Kaneki Ken.