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Kanae was glad to have the young master around more frequently, but not like this. He'd been like this for a long time and it seemed that there was nothing anyone could do for him.
When he returned to the estate, there had been a few days where he just didn't say anything. He seemed incapable of speaking and his eyes were hollow, like the life had been stolen from them. When he saw him, Kanae was overwhelmed by his own excitement until he realized that Shuu didn't even have the energy to respond to him. Gradually, he came around little by little, but it was clear that he'd lost something irreplaceable.
Seeing the way that he was now, Kanae feared that he was never going to be the same again. The precious Shuu he remembered and respected so deeply might never return to him. Desperate to help him, he felt himself falling into the same spiral that Shuu was caught in. Only, he was running behind him, going in circles, never quite able to catch up to him. If he could, he wanted to put his arms around him and make him stay, to pull him away from the past that had gone on without him, but it was like his hands could never reach.
Chie tried to help, too. She was a strong person. She was a lot more level-headed than either of them could ever be. While Shuu dwelled on the past and while he was busy worrying about him, she was thinking about things calmly, realistically, working a little every day to find the satisfying conclusion that Shuu was longing for.
Sometimes, it all made him so frustrated that he wanted to give up. Kanae hated to see him looking so sad, but sometimes it was just too much for him to take and it made him mad.
He was mad at Shuu for being unable to relinquish the past. He was mad at Kaneki for running off on his own, for leaving his most precious person behind. But he was mad at himself, too. He hated that he cared so much about a person who rarely showed appreciation for his concern.
Still, he couldn't abandon him. It took him a long time, always blinded by his own admiration, but now he could clearly see what a fool Shuu was. Despite that, he was determined to stay. He was a fool too, so he needed to stand by him. His master needed someone who understood what it was like to hopelessly chase something they couldn't have.
Each day, Shuu seemed to wake with fresh pain, but there was no day more difficult for him than the twentieth of December. Even a week ahead, Kanae began to feel anxious, knowing what he should anticipate. The first year, he was shocked by the ferocity of Shuu's despair, taken aback by it. The second year, he felt like he was more prepared for it, but nothing could have sufficiently prepared him for the way that day made him feel. Now, it had been three whole years, and, if the past two had been any indication, it wasn't going to be any easier.
He was afraid of it because he never really knew what to say. There were too many things it made him feel, and many of them sounded too selfish for him to say aloud.
Like, if Kaneki hadn't left, then none of this would've happened. Like, if Shuu hadn't let himself become so devoted to him, he wouldn't have to feel obligated to feel this way. He could've kept living his life. They could've been happy.
Instead, knowing with sobering certainty that there would be nothing he could say, he went to him without any intentions of speaking. As long as he stood beside him, he felt like Shuu would feel his concern for him. Even if he never said anything to show that he was grateful for his presence, Kanae would rather be there for him and be ignored than leave him alone and let him wither by himself. He didn't deserve the pain he was already suffering. It wouldn't be right to leave him alone now while he was at his lowest.
With a thick scarf wrapped around him, his cold weather boots on his feet, he passed through the doors at the back of the manor and stepped out into the snow. The afternoon sun made the white snow shimmer as though it were coated in glitter. He felt a little bad for stepping in it, ruining its untouched surface with an imprint of his large shoes. He wasn't the only one who had left that way, though. Ahead of him, he could still see prints from someone else that hadn't been filled by the falling snow.
One at a time, he followed them past the bed of flowers covered for the winter, shielded from the cold, past the fountain at the middle of the garden, toward the field where flowers normally bloomed. Beneath the large fir tree at the middle of that field stood the one he was looking for.
He was sure that Shuu would hear his feet as they treaded through the snow, but he was careful not to startle him anyway, cautiously coming around to stand at his side where he could see him.
For a while, he just stood there without saying a word, keeping his promise to himself. As the silence drew on, he slowly turned his head to glance at Shuu's face. It was inevitable that he would turn to face him at some point, but it made him ache to see the way that he looked. Just as he had expected and feared, it looked as though he'd been crying, his tears dried and frozen on his cheeks. His nose and the corners of his eyes were red, and occasionally he would sniffle pitifully, but Kanae couldn't escape the guilty feelings it gave him when he looked at that face.
He was beautiful. Even though something inside of him had changed, Kanae could still see the elegant man he remembered. The snow and the pain from his past couldn't erase that beautiful part of him.
In a way, he thought, fighting back his own tears, it had made him more beautiful.
Kaneki was the one to blame. He was the one who was responsible. Yet, for that, Kanae was jealous.
Naturally, he was surprised when he heard Shuu speak to him. He would've been fine to stay there and silently wait for him. On this day, he half-expected to see Chie join them at some point as well. He didn't think there would be anything that the master would want to say to him that wouldn't put him in more pain.
“Kanae,” he said, his gaze fixed on the strong trunk of the tree.
Though he waited, Shuu didn't continue, so he leaned forward, taking another cautious step toward him and inclined his head.
“Yes, Shuu-sama...?”
He took a breath, and Kanae watched as it was exhaled as a white cloud. “Sometimes I worry about whether my memory will be enough. I still have hope, of course. I... I can't give that up, but sometimes I worry that I might forget him. I have the pictures that Chie gave me, so I'll never forget his face, but there's more to a person than that. So I was wondering,” he said, closing his eyes, trying to keep himself together. “I know you never met him, but I want to know what you think he was like.”
It was an odd question. He didn't even entirely know how to answer it, but he needed to indulge him while he was like this. If he told him that he didn't have a clue, then he was sure that he would regret it. Being so straightforward would probably break him.
The more he thought about it, though, he realized that it was a question that was impossible to answer straightforwardly. After all the time he'd spent with him now, it wasn't difficult to place himself in the mindset that Shuu occupied. He still needed to choose his words carefully, but now he felt like he knew what to say.
“He was important,” he said, feeling even more sure of his answer after the words were spoken. “It's true that I never got to meet him, but I feel like I knew him by the way that you've talked about him. I know how kind he could be, how cold he could act towards you until the moments when it mattered. I know how difficult his life must've been, only being half-ghoul. Honestly, Shuu-sama, there's a lot that I don't know as well, but I'm sure that he must've been important. For him to have moved you and affected you so profoundly, I... I feel like I probably would have loved him too.”
It was still difficult to look at his sad face, but Kanae felt rewarded when he saw a small, fond smile bloom on Shuu's lips.
“You're right,” Shuu said. He laughed softly, but coughed when the cold air reached his throat, sore from crying. He wiped briefly at his eyes with the back of his coat sleeve and looked up at the tree to where it reached toward the sky. “He is. He's very important to me.”
“That's the most important thing to remember. Even if you forget everything else, just knowing that he was important should be enough to keep him in your heart, right?”
Shuu sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. For a second, Kanae worried that he'd given himself a headache.
“He... He isn't dead. Don't talk about him like he's dead. He can't be. I'm not finished with him yet.”
“O-of course, Shuu-sama,” Kanae said, holding his gloved hands together in front of himself. He had been doing so well, but now he felt like he'd taken one step too far over the line like always.
Shuu turned away from him, hiding his face. “Anyway. It's cold out here. You should head back inside. I'm going to stay here for a little while longer.”
It was difficult for him to argue with him, but Kanae didn't want to leave him there. This place was something special, but it was also a reminder of all the time that had passed since Kaneki left him. During the first year of his absence, Shuu frequented the garden. At first, he enjoyed it as a quiet place where he could be alone with his thoughts. Eventually, its purpose changed, and he started working in the garden to distract himself.
In that first year, on Kaneki's birthday, he planted a sapling in the field.
It was cold and it must have been difficult for it to grow in the snow, but Shuu was very attentive, taking care of the tree as if it were a child. When the snow would get too high, he would go out and uncover it. When the weather was fair, Kanae occasionally found him watering it, even in the months when they had plenty of rain. The Tsukiyama family had servants to handle these tasks, but Shuu always insisted that he be the one to take care of it. What began as a fragile plant became something strong with all of his constant care and dedication.
Now, three years had passed and that sapling was already a tall fir tree with a sturdy trunk and branches thick with healthy green needles, thriving in the snow that once threatened it.
“It's amazing how big it is now,” Kanae said, knowing that Shuu might appreciate a compliment. However, after a couple minutes passed without a reply, he started to doubt that Shuu was going to say anything about it. The silence that once felt somewhat companionable now made him feel like he wasn't welcome.
As he turned, feeling pressured to leave, he finally heard Shuu speak again.
“There's something about this tree.”
Kanae turned back around and looked at him curiously. “Y-yes...? What is it, Shuu-sama?”
“I don't know,” he said softly, voice hushed, carried away with the snowy wind. “I didn't really watch it grow. When something changes little by little each day, you can't really tell that anything is different until you step back later and realize that it isn't the same anymore. It took it a long time to get this big. I don't see it as a measurement of the time I've spent without him now.”
There was a question there that begged to be asked, but Kanae silently felt as though he knew the answer.
He didn't see it that way anymore because he saw it for what it was. It was just a tree; a strong, living thing born from his own devotion. When Kanae stepped back, he saw the tree at its full height, but he also saw something else. He saw Shuu standing tall and looking stronger than he had in years.
“You look good, Shuu-sama,” he said, giving him a gentle smile. “You look kind of happy.”
Shuu nodded. “I am. It's his birthday, after all. I have to smile for him. Besides, I have a good feeling right now.”
Kanae followed after him when Shuu turned and started walking back.
“What kind of feeling?” he asked.
“I have the feeling that all of my patience is going to pay off. I'm going to see him again soon. I'm almost certain of it.”
It was foolish for him to even believe that, but that was the kind of person Shuu was. Kanae might have doubted him before if he said something like that, but the conviction he saw on his face made him believe it. He wanted Kaneki to return now almost as much as Shuu did. He didn't mind if the old Shuu never returned. The new one – the one filled with a powerful love for Kaneki – was possibly even more beautiful. If Kaneki returned, Kanae would be willing to swallow all the bitterness he felt towards him as long as it meant that he wouldn't have to see his precious master cry anymore.