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“You have the pen…” Eto coughed, pinching her finger and thumb like some sick joke. “You can write the story now… You have the power…”
“Eto, wait—” No, no, this couldn’t be happening. Kaneki read the reports; she’d been able to regenerate in the blink of an eye! Losing her entire lower half didn’t even phase her! Why wasn’t she—?!
“It’s… up to you now… Ken Kaneki…” Her eyes fluttered shut.
“Eto, don’t go—!” He scooped her up, and shook her. “Eto!!!”
Shit, no, no no— She was fading fast. Too fast. He had to do something. He— He had to—
(“And perhaps one day, my child—”)
(Shut the hell up. Shut up shut up shut up! Why didn’t
you
save her, then?!)
“Hirako, go ahead with Squad 0!” he ordered, pointing ahead. “Save them, please!!”
He didn’t need to repeat himself. Hirako and the others sprinted ahead. For his part, Kaneki tried to pull up his sleeve, but tore it in his desperation. Shit, that was fine. It didn’t matter right now.
“Y-You can’t die!” He had to keep speaking to Eto. “I won’t let you! Y-You still haven’t— I haven’t—”
He looked at his arms; everything up to the armpit was just kagune. His legs were much the same. He couldn’t risk piercing his abdomen as he was now. Shit, why wasn’t his body—
There was a loud burst: Special Class Tanakamaru and Higher Mind. The shouts of combat down the hall. Screaming, slashing, crackling.
Touka. Hinami. Yomo. Ayato.
He glanced down at Eto. It had to be the RC suppressants hampering her ability to heal. But she’d stopped the compressor, so something gave way.
She needed flesh. Blood. Anything. But if she couldn’t chew, let alone swallow, then—
(Choose.)
He looked up at the hall. Would Hirako and the others make it in time? And if they could, could they defeat Higher Mind and the rest of the defense squad? Special Class Aura must have arrived by now too; would they stand a chance?
(Choose.)
But Eto needed attention now. She was slipping further and further away as he debated. Think: how could he do both? How could he save everyone?!
(Choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose choose—)
“Unbelievable.”
Kaneki gasped. “Eto!”
“Just go already…” Eto’s gaze was somewhere else. “Don’t let your ghosts… Don’t let Takatsuki…”
“But…!”
“Your friends are… alive. Present…” She glared, but her lip trembled. “Don’t miss what’s right in front of you…”
“But…” He shuddered, wrapping his forearm around her small waist. “You’re— You are—”
In a sudden show of strength, she grabbed the neck of his suit and pulled him down. Something icy caught against his bottom teeth. Something greedy, selfish, and desperate. Kaneki clung to it as his capillary burst, shutting his eyes and trying to bring it closer to him and finally melt it with what meager heat he had to offer. A slimy thing broke into his mouth, running over his teeth and palate in a hungry attempt to memorize it.
She gripped his hair, tangling her fingers into the blood-crusted roots. Her hold weakened with every second, and he clutched her hands to keep her secure.
Memories. Iced coffee, takoyaki, cheap ramen, pressed palms, fern hair, jade eyes, fake smiles, real smiles, sudden vulnerability, hidden strength, infinite sorrow, fleeting joy, fruitful discussions, glowing praise. Sen Takatsuki. Eto. Eto, Eto, Eto.
She had been tossed aside and scorned at every turn. She had only known loneliness and bitterness. And yet she tasted so sweet, to the point of a cavity. Kaneki pulled her closer, praying and hoping that he could give even a sliver of what she’d craved her whole life.
Sweet blood spilled from his mouth. He gave it freely. It was hers. He was—
Something slammed into his side, tearing him away. He tumbled down the hall, and he saw Eto’s form go limp. The flimsy kagune she’d made had a mouth, which croaked out one final command.
“Go.”
He didn’t want to. He wanted to go back. He wanted so badly to go over there and carry her somewhere away from here. Away from her pain, her suffering— but she wouldn’t have it. That wasn’t Eto. Eto wasn’t pulled anywhere; she pushed. And she chose to push Kaneki forward. Toward the light. Toward something new. Toward something warmer.
But not something better.
Kaneki struggled to his feet, tears staining the floor before him. This world was disgusting and messed up. People died in droves, human and ghoul alike, for little reason beyond the fact that no one had tried to find a different way. No one had tried and succeeded. Tragedy continued to beat those people down until their screams were silenced under V’s shadow.
Even so— he had to help. He had to be better than those who came before. The path was laid before him, paved in blood and suffering and horror, but he would walk it. He would walk because he had to. He needed to. He had the power. He had the pen. He would rewrite the summary.
Kaneki turned around and ran.