Chapter Text
April 1, 20xx
Age: 25
[ From You to Me ]
C h a p – I –
Congratulations
A pianist sits down on the soft leather seat, points his dress shoes on one of the three golden pedals, and leans forward, nimble fingers splayed along the black and white keys, reaching.
Palms rise and the curves of fingertips poised as if to set sail across a sea of melodies, the world behind him hushed and waiting, waves of anticipation lulled and licked around the boat like the calm before the storm. Pairs of eyes and ears open in rapt attention, judging, scrutinizing, and criticizing - they’ve seen better, or at least their privileges give the right to think so.
The pianist thinks of nothing. Believes in nothing, casts aside his doubts, and dances as if he owns the universe and its infinite blank spaces. To play the song is his only priority – his very air. Nothing else matters, and should matter, when the pianist sits before the majestic instrument.
Yet, for Kaneki, that’s the hardest part.
He drops the pencil on top of the pages of music notes lying on the grand piano and sighs, lowering his head onto his folded arms. A jumble of notes resound from the percussion; his ears twitch.
Everything matters.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Time doesn’t pause. It moves, endlessly. Seconds to minutes to an hour, and he wishes he hadn’t drunk three cups full of black coffee.
How will he look, tomorrow? Like a zombie risen from the dead, with bags under his eyes and red sockets threatening to pop. How can he play this song without the proper energy and life from a good night’s sleep? What is wrong with him?
How can he afford to stress and fret like this just before the wedding?
He drags himself up and out of the leather seat, looking down wearily at the notes he’d composed and erased over the past month. The constantly revised song he had nothing but doubts and frustration – and that other suffocating feeling – for.
The silhouette of his suit hanging in front of the closet draws his attention. Pressed, ironed, and tailored to perfection.
“It’s tomorrow…huh.”
He lifts the cover over his head. Already?
Ah…
Already, huh.
-
The winding, cobble stoned garden is surrounded by overhanging green leaves and vibrant flowers. Small ponds and koi darting about playfully decorate the venue. Across the curved stone bridge, and a flowing river stream underneath, lies the cherry blossom garden. Pink petals awaken from the caress of a soft breeze – touch of spring, and cascade like moving pictures onto the warm dewy grass.
Kaneki finds himself in a crowd of people, some being old classmates, mutual friends, and others, complete strangers. Or maybe he’s simply forgotten them. It’s hard to say when he’s getting bombarded left and right like some A-list celebrity at a bachelorette party.
“Big day, huh?”
“Ye - yeah.” He nods, smiles a bit. A man in his twenties, dressed in a uniformed black tux like the rest of the guys. White hair and a serious face, with broad shoulders and a built body. He pushes his bangs back, glancing at Kaneki briefly, as if bringing up old memories. Kaneki struggles to recollect, mind whirling as he tries to differentiate one guest from the hundred gathered. Ah! The drummer from the school band back in high school. “Yomo-san,” he remembers, but soon he’s getting whisked away to another circle of people.
“Oi, oi, dude’s getting married,” Nishiki Nishio says, inherent resting sneer in place. His girlfriend, Kimi, pinches his elbow.
She pats him absentmindedly, smiling at Kaneki. “We’re both super happy! We spent a long time looking for the perfect gift, you know,” she beams. The auburn-haired man rubs the injury with a very unhappy scowl.
“Oi, Kimi.”
“Oops!” she gasps, turning to her lover. “Sorry, Nishi, did it hurt?”
“Of course it did. But after all the abuse, I think I’m damn used to it.”
“Oh really?” Kimi has a hand on her hip, and that’s never a good sign. “Seriously, you’re gonna start playing the victim here? I mean, really, just last night I found three random girls texting you, and you think I don’t have the right to…”
Oh no. They’re at it again. Kaneki backs out of there quickly, and it’s a good thing a new wave arrives. He goes over to greet them and lead them across the bridge to the garden venue.
It’s a whirlwind of people, with congratulations everywhere and delighted murmurs promising to look forward to the pianist’s performance. Kaneki is on foot, helping the last minute decorators do their jobs, the invitees find their seatings, and doing other miscellaneous things as the clock steadily counts down.
A pretty little cherry blossom garden like this, scenery at its finest, and joy to be sealed - love is certainly in the air.
A tug on his arm brings him around, and he pales as he’s suddenly facing the last person he’d expect to see at this event.
Long violet strands fall onto his shoulder as the ill-fated woman leans in, pressing her chest against him. Pink lips curve playfully as humor finds its way into her eyes. She brushes her mouth over his ear and says, “Congratulations, Kaneki-kun. Or, should I say, Mr. Nagachika?”
Kaneki hastily unhooks her clinging arms from his and steps back to create space between them. Heat stains his cheeks brightly, and he can feel the steam come off in wispy fumes. M-mister Nagachika?
The petite woman laughs, voice like wind chimes and pretty face almost glowing under the sunlight. She had always been beautiful, like elegant violets, and deceiving from the start, and he’s a fool if he falls for it twice.
“Rize-san,” he begins, admonishment lacing the tone of his voice. “Please stop teasing me. I know you received the invitation.” And you read it, he adds internally. With defiance, and a hint of that coiling emotion in his gut.
“Well then.” Her slender fingers brush along his jawline, caressing him just like the touch of a barely felt wind, and she passes by, velvet dress fluttering. “I look forward to the performance, my piano man.” She giggles away, vanishing into the mingle of guests around the dining table.
Kaneki blushes, the back of his palm feeling the linger of her soft touch. He didn’t expect to see her after all these years. It was nostalgic. But, he can’t muster the dread of being in her presence anymore. Naturally. It’s been a while since then. He’s no longer the naive teenager he was back in high school. No longer a lovestruck boy crushing on a girl beyond his reach. His senior, a sophisticated beauty, and president of the Contemporary Literature Club, Kamishiro Rize.
She...hasn’t changed at all, huh. Compared to her, has he changed? Or has he remained a static character, drifting in an unchanged pattern through the years?
A sudden weight around his shoulders surprises him. The force drags him behind a towering cherry blossom tree, layers and layers of pink petals covering the many branches, hanging above ground, before he can object. “Who - “
“Hey hey, how do I look, ‘neki?”
A blinding grin, white teeth glinting mouth to mouth, and bright, sunlit eyes.
“H-Hide! You scared the crap out of me!” Kaneki splutters.
“Sorry man, I’m not supposed to be out here, but y’know,” Hide chuckles. He scratches the back of his head. “To be honest, I’m a little nervous.”
Warm laughter fill the garden. Sun rays filtering through the cherry blossom tree and onto Hide, speckles of light dancing in his irises.
Kaneki’s heart skips a beat. Automatic.
He looks at his best friend, attired unusually formally in a custom fitted tux, with a black bowtie pressed to his collar and white collared shirt underneath, contoured by the V of the silk vest and dark velvet jacket. The jacket has two buttons that hold the tuxedo together, but Hide leaves them unbuttoned, open and casual like his personality.
Satin, midnight pants adorn his legs, leading down to polished and pointed dress shoes. His blonde hair is parted from the right and slicked back with gel, but rebellious as they are, the gold strands defy gravity, sticking up and about as they please.
In a way, the mix of formality and messy windswept locks only add to the attraction.
“So...how do I look?” Hide repeats, flashing a grin, the cheesiness of the action replacing the nervousness from earlier. He does a 360, one hand in his pocket and the other by his side as he swivels his foot.
Kaneki watches the display with a smile. Just Hide being Hide, wedding or not. He notices a little something amiss: the crooked position of the bowtie on Hide’s collar. “Dashing,” he replies. “But with a minor flaw.”
Hide looks down at himself, brow raised. “What’s wrong? I spent an hour making sure, too,” he mutters.
Kaneki steps in closer, reaching around Hide’s neck to undo the collar. “I’m talking about your tie. It’s a little crooked.”
“Oh.” Hide breathes, and Kaneki can feel the puff of air against his forehead.
His skin heats up, but it’s a good thing Hide’s taller now, so he can’t see. It’ll be weird to have to explain why he’s blushing when there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Because really, there’s nothing to be flustered over.
Kaneki unties the knot before looping it back around Hide. He starts to fix the tie, deft fingers quick and smooth, motions liquid from years of practice. It’s just like tying shoelaces, but bigger and more complex. Though, doing it for someone else is admittedly a little different. Hide stays absolutely still - and unusually quiet, as he works. He can feel his observing gaze, focus intense and unwavering, the steady up and down of his chest, and the attention is kind of…
“Done,” Kaneki announces with a finishing tug, the bowtie perfected. He steps back, letting out a small breath.
“That was fast,” Hide remarks, blinking. A grin spreads over his face. “As expected of a professional, and mind you, the best, pianist.”
Kaneki can’t help smiling. As if. But it’s nice to dream. “Someday, when I have my own concert and an invitation to perform in Paris, maybe then you can call me that. But, today’s not that day.”
“Right. You’ll always be the best in my eyes, and that’s what counts.”
“...Don’t you ever feel embarrassed when you say those things?” Kaneki says, blushing. Well, he’s certainly a victim of it. It makes him feel kind of ridiculous, honestly.
“Nah, it’s only the truth, right?” Hide replies, completely unabashed as usual. His mouth widens into a smile and arms go behind his head. Cherry blossom petals fall slowly, some landing on his hair. “You should take pride in what you have, y’know.”
Kaneki looks away. “We should go back. The wedding’s starting soon, and we can’t be late.” He turns to go, but an abrupt grip on his wrist stops him. Huh? He looks back at Hide, tipping his head in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
Hide’s grasp is loose but firm. There’s a tension in his usually carefree expression. He looks as if he has something to say. “You ready?” he asks.
“I’m - “ Kaneki swallows the strange lump and clears his throat, glancing at the grip. Hide’s hands have become bigger, big enough to wrap completely around his wrist. It’s a little strange, despite being around Hide all the time, he hasn’t noticed the change until now. They’ve grown up. This just means that they’re ready to take the next plunge into adulthood, doesn’t it? Kaneki arranges his face to a smile. “Yeah. I’m ready. You?”
Hide squeezes his wrist once before letting go, raising his head and grinning. He’s glowing. “I was born ready.”
-
Kaneki sits down on the stool, leaning forward slightly and resting his hands on the ivory keys. The grand piano is to the left of the archway, at the end of garden, facing the hundred guests gathered. He inhales, slowly, in and out, relaxes the way he’s been taught for fifteen years.
Then, he presses down gently with his right hand. The Wedding March, the rendition that he arranged for this special occasion.
And, soon, the ooh’s and aah’s of the crowd, parted into two columns, signal the arrival of the engaged. Kaneki looks up, having memorized and practiced the song enough that he can play without watching.
The lovely bride in a white wedding dress, the satin fabric dragging over the warm grass, and a bouquet of hydrangeas in her hands - smiling. The handsome groom by her side, in a black tuxedo, a rose pinned to his chest - grinning. Their arms are linked, and they duck their heads together as the flower girls and boys hail them with colorful blossoms, intertwined all the way until they make it to the archway.
There are tears in the audience, soft sniffles from the soon to be in-laws, and the tender sounds of the grand piano playing. Cherry blossom petals flutter and dance in the spring breeze.
Then, the two reach the archway. They face each other, ready to receive the marriage vows. The groom - that is, Hide, lifts up the wedding veil of his betrothed and smiles down at her.
And, if there is such a thing as a betrayal of oneself, then the rate in which Kaneki’s heart plummets all the way down the pits of his stomach is just that.
A simple betrayal.
He thought he’d -
Gotten over it?
“I love you, Yoriko.” His voice is tender. He treats her preciously.
“I love you too, Hide,” she says sweetly. A blushing bride.
They’re perfectly in love. They lean in for a kiss; the guests clap.
Kaneki shuts his eyes.
Ah...i-it’s painful.
“Now, a few words from our groom’s Best Man and brilliant pianist.”
It hurts. Like a punctured wound, it stings and bleeds, the selfish pain digging into him relentlessly. It’s all over. I’m not supposed to feel like this. Not at his best friend’s wedding. Not when Hide’s smiling so brightly.
The Best Man’s part should be simple and easy; Kaneki finds it one of the bravest things he’s ever had to do.
To smile as if nothing’s wrong as he sells a lie to his best friend.
“Congratulations, Hide. I’m happy for you.”