Chapter Text
Haise has seen Akira enough times that her appearance is burned into his mind like a picture taking with an old polaroid camera. Clear enough that as Haise, just Haise, rank 1 investigator Haise Sasaki, he knows her as almost a mother. Her soft touches and careful words accompanying Kishou Arima fatherly smile perfectly. A family. But when the voice in the back of his head occasionally gets a grip of control inside their shared mind, his past, it is blurry enough that he has to wonder how she can look at him. How she can care for him. Knowing what he is, and what he has done. The good and the bad alike. The black and the white. Things that Haise does not even know about or understands himself. Just a feeling digging at his brain, with claws in his face as he focuses on her soft features of her face.
Akire is usually so confident in her step, her face never given any emotion or weakness away. Her hair braided tightly in her blonde strands. Never a single hair slipping past the tight dress-up that Haise imagines takes hours to get right, but Akire must have practice enough to practically do it in her sleep. It would not surprise him if she could. Her face and skin always smooth and picture perfect in a way Haise’s have never been. Always clad in that dark bodo red shirt, with a tight blazer on top hugging her thin figure perfectly. Matching the color of her skirt.
She has always been the picture of perfectness when she would talk to Haise. Weather that was in private of public, it was a nice, soothing constant. It was almost comforting to Haise.
Only now, standing there, the heavy white door closing behind her with a soft click, she does not wear that confident expression he has always known from her. Her hair is tight up in a lose bun on the back of her head, strands of hair slipping past the elastic that is supposed to hold it all together. The blazer and shirt have been replaced with a t-shirt that Haise thinks might be too big for her, and most certainly is used for sleeping rather than work. The hoodie does not hide it as much as Akira probably hopes. Her usually so easily readable face, with soft eyes that always brings peace inside Haise is mostly covered too. Making it hard to really figure out what expression she is wearing behind the medical face mask. The soft pastel blue covers her mouth and nose.
It is such a break from the reality he knows that he briefly wonders, not for the first time that day if he is dreaming. If this is some crazy, alternate universe where things are not even close to being the way he is used to. Only despite him living in a world with Ghoul and Quinx, he knows that is not possible.
“Haise” she says ever so softly, deep, dark bags under her eyes shining through. Tiredness clear on the small part of her face he can see. The face mask moving ever so slightly. “How are you feeling Haise?”.
Haise slumps forward letting his elbow rest on his knees. “Decent” he replies with a smile, meeting Akira’s eyes, her shoulder falls slightly in relief. Clear peace in her eyes for only a moment. “I’d feel a lot better, knowing what was currently going on for all… this” he waves his hand awkward around as he eyes once more scans the mostly empty hospital room, he has been asked to stay in.
She sighs and nods, moving closer towards the bed where Haise is sitting on the soft mattress. Pulls a chair with her from a conner of the room, placing it just a few feet in front of Haise and lets herself sit down. Crossing her legs and leans against the back of the plastic chair. “The Quinx squad has been placed under code yellow quarantine measurements” she replies sternly, a slightly amount of professionalism seeping into her voice. “The Ghoul you apprehended last night appears to have fallen ill with an unknown virus that only affects Ghouls. While it is high unlikely that the Quinx or yourself will be affected, you where exposed, we just want to prevent an outbreak. And more importantly, catch any symptoms that might occur before it gets worse”.
“I didn’t think Ghoul’s could get sick” Haise replies with a slightly wariness in his tone. He knows humans gets sick all the time, he knows he must have gotten sick too once, before he turned Ghoul, “With our regenerative ability it should be almost impossible, right?”.
Akria nods and hums slightly to herself. Leaves the room in quietness for a few moments, while Haise’s eyes rest on her, his stomach twisting more and more for each second there goes before she replies. He wonders if she even will reply if there is anything to say. “We doubt it will last long. You and your team will most likely be back at the Chateau within the few days”. It is not a no or yes or a maybe. There is uncertainty lingering in her voice, and it makes Haise shiver. “This is just a safety measurement, Haise”.
Haise shakes his head slightly, “Doesn’t feel like a safety measurement being woken at an ungodly hour of night, to be separated from your friends, and transported to some medical facility. In nothing but our sleep attire. Knowing nothing but the fact that these people… these doctors” Haise says the last word under his breath, growling it almost, before his voice breaks and he whisper. “These doctors who sees me for nothing more than a monster”.
“I agree that the situation wasn’t handled as well as it could have been” Akira replies and places a soft hand on Haise shoulder, grounding him “But I promise. It’s only temporary”.
“I know” Haise replies softly, squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breathe, filling his lungs with air until he cannot take any more in before he releases it slowly. Automatically he lets his fingers run through his two-toned hair, pushing it backwards. Coming through it. “How are the others holding up?”. He blinks at Akira who studies him quietly. “I mean, with all this…”.
Akira chuckles, let us go and Haise’s shoulder and brushes a few loose strands away from her face, securing them behind her ears with a soft hm. “As you might expect Haise. Saiko asked for a game console, said she was bored” she smiles, “We are working on that. Mutsuki almost passed out during the collection of blood samples, but she is fine now. Urie is being, well, being Urie, and Shirazu seems to be planning his own escape”. The last words are said with bright eyes as Akira pushes herself to her feet. “Arima has already been called and informed of the situation, he’ll stop by with some books for you later. But is there anything I could get you now before I go?”.
He shrugs as the question at first. There is not a lot of things Akira can do for him, other than getting him out of there are soon as possible. But then he remembers the oversized t-shirt covering his chest that he had pulled over his head on his way out, and the overly large sweatpants one of the nurses had thrown his way. He feels Akira’s waiting eyes resting against him. “Cloths” he says simply. Because anything is better than what he has.
“I’ll see what I can do” Akira replies, this time her tone is serious as she moves to open the door. It clicks as softly as it had when she entered, “First class Sasaki”.
***
“Dr. Shiba” Akira says sternly as she almost stumbles out into the hallway, away from Haise who looks smaller than she has ever seen him before. More panicked and stressed out than most people could ever understand. His body hunches over, in almost a protective manner. A slight shivering running through his body. Knowing what she knew about how he became a Ghoul, she could not blame him for hating the medical facility’s strong scent and cold, white appearance. At times it scares her too, knowing full well that good men come to die in these rooms. When their wounds are too great to be treated. “Do you really think the Quinx could pick up the virus?”.
The doctor barely sends her a glance as he pushes his glass future up onto his nose and keeps walking through the hallway. Akira follows in light run to catch up, slows down at his side. “I hope not” is all he replies.
“I’m sorry Doctor” Akira says under her breath, “But I thought it was your job to figure out thr answer to that question”. She glares at him with a stern, powerful look. A reminder of her authority over him. An ice-cold reminder, she could pull him off the case, that she could replace him. Fire him if he was not useful anymore. Protecting the Quinx, and First-class Sasaki alike, from situation’s just like this one, was his job. If he could not do that, what use did she have for him?
He nods to her gently. His sharp features framing his cold eyes did not let any information slip past him. “Mrs. Mado, the Quinx are the fines, most extraordinary technology anyone has ever seen. But they are also filled with unknowns. There is no safe way to say if the virus will affect a half-ghoul like it would an ordinary Ghoul. Only a handful a measure we can take to prevent it”.
“What about the Ghoul at Cochlea in the 23ed ward?” Akira asks drily. Straightening her back a little taller as she speaks. Letting a thrown slip onto her face.
The doctor sighs and stops on his path. He looks slightly over his shoulder, the light reflecting in his glasses, making it impossible to Akira to see his eyes. “Is in critical condition. No treatments options have yet to be effective. He is not going to make it, and the information your team needed from him, will likely die with him”.
Akira nods. “Keep me and Special Class investigator Kishou Arima updated”.
***
Nishiki grasp tightly around the bowl, his fingers digging into the fragile plastic, creaking under his strength. The sent of vomit, half-digested human flesh and black coffee stings in his nose, the sight in the bowl is not any better than the smell. But either are better than the terrifying, horrible pain in his abdomen that grows stronger and worse for every passing moment.
Nishiki Nishio, Serpent as he is named by the CCG, really needs to be more careful who he meets up with for information.
Ghouls did not get sick. At least, most Ghouls did not. Only the stupid once, those carrying too much about the human world, the humans they surrounded themselves with. The stupid once, chewing down the awful human food, swallowing it, and forcing it to stay down for the sake of not being ungrateful. Otherwise? Getting sick as a Ghoul was not something that happened.
Most of the time.
Mostly anyone who had worked at Anteiku, and later on :RE, Touka’s come back after the war in the 20th ward, knew that Ghouls could get sick. It was few and far between, but it happened. A string of a virus or bacteria mutating in humans, transferring itself to Ghouls as they would devours their victims dirty, bloody, body. Ghouls, their immune system so weak and so out of practice, that nobody was resistant. That nobody would be able to go unharmed if it first really struck. Of course, Nishiki is the one to carry it with him.
Another routine meeting with a Ghoul from the 4th ward, a weaker Ghoul, had exposed him to the virus. He hadn’t noticed the signs before he had returned to :RE that night, and by then, it had already been too late. The Ghoul had been sick, now Nishiki was too. Soon Touka would be forced to close the store down, temporally, herself falling ill. Yomo would too, soon.
Getting sick as a Ghoul was not always a death sentence. Not in the way it had been generations ago, where only the strongest would survive the battle with the virus eating up their body from the inside. It was not always a death sentence, but it could be fatal. Especially in weaker Ghouls.
Laying there, on the top floor of :RE, in Touka and Yomo’s guest bathroom, throwing up into a bowl, then the toilet as the bowl became overfilled, spilling against the soft towel underneath him, at moments made him wounder how an illness like this might have affected their half-Ghoul friend, Ken Kaneki. How his different body would fight it off if he even could. He knew the boy was alive, even if he did not remember his past life.
Would the CCG risk the Quinx and Kaneki if they found out about the illness? Or would they wait, watching passively as the virus spread over Tokyo, killing Ghoul after Ghoul, until they where so weak that they did not stand a chance?
He wondered if Quinx was expandable to the CCG. Monsters… just like himself.
His eyes flutter as the light to the dark bathroom is turned on from the outside, blinding, digging into the deepest corner of his brain. The door opening slowly. “Nishiki? Is that you?”.
“Touka?” Nishiki pushes himself up on his elbows, using his one arm to cover his eyes are he tires to focus on the figure in the door. Her dark purple hair hanging softly over her right eye, covering it up. “Don’t… don’t come in” he whispers, “I caught the virus”.
Touka seems to almost freeze there in the door, stiffens out as her eyes shift over the floor towards him. Nods in a silently gesture and moves a few steps backwards, out into the hallway where she came from, but leaves the door open. Lets the lights from the early morning sun travel through the small window behind her, into the bathroom. Rays of heat hitting Nishiki’s skin. It almost reminds him of soft, happy mornings with Kimi. Before the war. When the heat of her body would be there, pressed against his side in the early mornings before work. The soft smell of coffee waiting for him in the distance.
If he closes his eyes, he can see still her soft smile, feel her fingers running through his eyes. Still hear her voice, that promise, that trust and honesty. He hopes she is okay alone. He hopes she has forgiven him for leaving her behind, in the safety of the human world.
Yomo appears with his long white hair in the spot where Touka had been. A small tray carried in his arms. The smell of human flesh and freeze coffee flouts towards him, bring a small smile to his lips. The stench of the vomit forgotten. The hard bathroom floor suddenly feeling comfortable warm. He is okay. He just needs time. Yomo does not speak.
***
He feels like he is floating. Right there, submerged by water. Unable to breath. He feels stuck there. In that internal darkness that surrounds him. Watches a different time, a different life, his own past from a distance. From behind a bubble of water that slowly drowns him as it grows and grows.
Grows together with the confusion, the fear. If Ken Kaneki comes out, if he takes over, what will happen to Haise? He is happy now. Kaneki seems sad, scared, disturbed to the very edge. Sitting there, bound to a chair on the black and white floor, covered in blood. Wrist and angles bleeding from the lack of skin. From the fight against the restrains.
And behind him… behind that white hair version of Haise, she stands. The purple hair falling around her soft face. Smiling at him. Beneath her flowers sprawls up. A new life starts. Or maybe a life ends to make space for somebody else. Because there… in the distance he hears a constant, steady beeping. A reminder of a heartbeat. And a reminder of the pain, in his shoulder. Blood running through the water. Seeping out of his body from his abdomen. Pain paralyzing him.
“Haise?”.
“His abdomen organs ruptured we need to operate immediately”.
Steady, steady beeping that slowly picks up at Haise attempts to take a breath. Only to finds water flooding his lungs as he gasps and struggles. His hands move instinctually towards his throat. He forces himself to swim. Upwards. Higher, higher. The light right there, in the distance. “Prepare for organ transplantation”.
“I’ll take full responsibility! He needs her organs to survive”.
But as he swims upwards the surface seems to disappear, far, far away in the distance. As the blood spills and mixes into the cloudy dark ocean. Painting the world around him red.
“There are times when you have to give up on one thing to preserve the other”.
His legs grow heavy, scaringly heavy as they pull him backwards, down towards the bottom of the red sea. Haise struggles against the grip. “Turn around Haise. Look at me… Don’t turn your back on a friend. You know that you Need me. Do it… Accept me as a part of you”.
“Haise, wake up!”.