Archive of Our Own

“That was what Hide would have said.” He adds, his voice turning quiet at the mention of his friend, and Touka understands completely. Despite how she doesn’t want to. The wound that Yoriko left is still too raw, too close to her heart. 

She kicks him in the ankles, just because. And says, “Shut up,” but the words don’t have the same bite as usual and Kaneki sees it that too. 

His smile widens, and it almost reaches his eyes, it almost looks genuine. 

That’s too many almosts and it leaves a bitterness in her mouth. 

“Thank you, touka.” He says, soft and so damn sincere, but that’s not what she wants to hear. 

She swallows, looks away. Curls her knees closer to her chest. Emotions like this are harder—anger is so much easy, so much clear. Touka doesn’t know what to do with this. The conflicting thoughts, and the unbearing weight in her chest of uncertainty and something else, that she can’t name. Doesn’t want to. 

“It’s been...nice.” She manages to say, through it all. And so much quieter, she confesses, “I’ll miss you.” 

Kaneki’s silent for too long that Touka sneaks in a glance. He’s...crying. 

Her widens and her expression twists. Whatever she had expected, that wasn’t it. 

It’s not fair, she thinks. It’s not goddamn fair and she wants to punch him. 

Touka finds herself crying as well. The painful twist in her chest uncurls a little as the tears run free. “Idiot,” She says, harshly, and punches his arm. It’s so weak that it barely makes a impact and Kankeki laughs. Wet, hoarse and the kiss that comes next is quiet, so warm it aches.   

Not goddamn fair, Touka is thinking as she grabs Kaneki’s shoulder and clenches her eyes close while she pulls him closer to her. 

It’s all she’ll get. It’s all she will have and it’s not enough. There’s so much they missed and time they will never have back.