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It was raining.
Kaneki took one look up at the dark grey skies, the stormy clouds looming over the silent patch of greenery, not at all bothered by the harsh pelting drops hammering onto his skin.
He was a ghoul; this meant nothing to him.
Nor did the comments that begun spreading within the CCG.
“Did you hear? Arima-san died protecting that half-breed –”
“Some elite squad they are supposed to be! How is Sasaki going to –”
“Mado’s daughter? I knew she and her whole group were going to be failures –”
What laid in front of him tore him apart inside more than anything else.
…
“Hello, Kaneki-kun!”
Kaneki frowned as he moved his eyes away from his sheet covers to face the windows, his eyes turned glacial when he recognized the voice before even registering the identity of the individual in front of him.
“…Eto.”
“My, my, it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Kaneki-kun? Or should I call you Sasaki Haise-kun now? Arima –”
She danced away nimbly from the rinkaku speeding towards her.
“…don’t you dare say his name.” From underneath the bandages, Kaneki knew she was smiling with mirth at the whole situation.
There was nothing not to rejoice – CCG’s strongest trump card is gone, Aogiri had no other threats that were as dangerous to them as Arima Kishou had been.
And he had died protecting Kaneki, of all people.
After so much trouble spent killing him off during their battle in V14.
After going through so much just to create ‘Sasaki Haise’…
Sometimes, Kaneki wondered if the person Arima really wanted to protect was Haise instead, and not him.
(But he had called out his name in his final moments – not Haise’s.
He still didn’t know what to make of that.)
“Hehe, you’re as entertaining as usual, Kaneki-kun! And here I thought you would be rejoicing over Shinigami-san’s death, since that means you’ll be able to leave the CCG anytime – no one will know that you’re no longer Sasaki Haise, after all!”
“…” Kaneki didn’t reply.
“Or… Could it be that Kaneki-kun wants to stay in the CCG? How unfortunate. Think of all the people waiting for you to return.”
Stop it.
No, stop it.
Just stop it!
I don’t want to hear it!
“…think of poor Banjou-san, poor Hinami-chan whom you abandoned….”
Stop…
“…oh, and poor Tsukiyama-san too!”
“Shut up!”
The crack of the bookshelf being destroyed rang loud and clear, accompanied by Kaneki’s hectic breathing.
“…Kaneki-kun,” Eto continued, unperturbed, “Do you know,”
Kaneki clenched his fists, and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Do you know, that Tsukiyama Shuu hasn’t stopped grieving about you once in these two years? He hasn’t been eating, hasn’t been flaunting anything.”
“Get out.”
“Must be sad for him, eh? For someone whom he had dedicated his life to just abandon him like this… Such dedication, how foolish.”
“Get out!”
Eto giggled, a hand rising to cover her mouth in mocking amusement.
“What he doesn’t know is that his princess has fallen for another! He always wanted to be your prince, you know, Kaneki-kun?”
“It’s too bad you found another, aw, and now he’s dead!” She leapt out of the window just as Kaneki dashed forward to reach out to her, rinkaku poised and ready to spear right through that annoying mouth of hers.
“Bye bye, Kaneki-kun! Hope you have fun mourning!”
Kaneki stared at the broken window, ignoring the frantic knocks on his door – Shirazu and Mutsuki – hands clenched.
He bit his bottom lip harshly, finding comfort in the tangy taste of blood.
(Nothing else could wash his blood away from his mind.)
…
“You know, it’s funny.” He whispered, “I never thought I’d become attached to this place, most of all because of you.”
“…You killed me, once.” Stopping, he took a deep, shaky breath and pulled his trench coat even closer around his torso.
The rain continued pouring on.
“…but you built me right up again, showering me – or Haise, really – with affection that Haise’d never known and I had long forgotten.”
“I don’t know… I don’t know if you did that because you wanted to see me, Kaneki Ken, again, or if were you just pitying me.”
“And I really want to know the reason, what you think of me, as Kaneki Ken.”
“…. I suppose it’s too late for that now, huh.” Kaneki snorted in pseudo-amusement, feeling a slight warmth building up in his eyes.
“There’s still so much I want to tell you since I got my memories back – how much I hate you for killing Irimi-san and Koma-san, how thankful I am that you stopped my rampage, how I really appreciate you treating Haise with care and concern….”
“…and…how…”
He paused, hesitating and feeling everything – all the torrents of emotions – that had welled up within him calming, dying down like a feeble flame being snuffed out.
“…I guess there’s no use telling you this now, since you’re a dead man anyway.” He shrugged off his pause, as if what he’d been about to say didn’t bother him in the slightest.
He needed to get out of here.
With trembling fingers, he reached out onto the cold – cold, everything was so goddamn cold and he hated it because it made the warmth in his eyes that much more obvious and the piercing heat in his chest that much more painful – concrete, brushing over the characters carved onto the stone tenderly.
A mockery of a lover’s caress, he thought mirthlessly.
He wondered, sometimes, even after the other had been laid to rest by the CCG – he had no family and no one knew where he came from, even in death he’s a mystery – if things would’ve been different if he hadn’t been there in the first place.
If he’d died in the V14 battle.
If he hadn’t dashed, headstrong, into battle that night.
(If he had given into Tsukiyama's pleas of 'please don't go' - if he were a little more of a coward instead of trying to play a tragic hero.)
If he’d never survived Yamori’s torture.
If the incident with Rize never happened, and he remained fully human.
Perhaps the other would be still alive, perhaps he wouldn’t be standing here and perhaps other wouldn’t be six feet under.
But those events did happen, and Kaneki couldn’t help but to feel glad, in a way.
They wouldn’t have met, otherwise.
“…Thank you, Arima Kishou.”
The burning sensation trailing down his cheeks was incredibly startling. So was every single beat of his heart.
Goodbye.
Eto called him his prince.
She was wrong.
He was a knight, his knight, all the way till the end.
(Because they had no happy ending.)
In another life, perhaps.
Let’s meet again.