Chapter Text
Sasaki Haise, or, before his memories were buried, Kaneki Ken, was thinking about leaving the CCG, for good - Just packing a small suitcase, and booking the first flight to any country in Europe. The only things that had ever stopped him was the fact that he would be leaving people behind. Like Touka, Banjou and his group, and even Tsukiyama. But the second issue, was the lack of company; Someone to travel with. For a moment, he thought about the idea of Furuta going with him, after all, having someone of that skill, would be invaluable. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s a reasonable idea. And, I would be able to keep an eye on him.
He looked over at his subordinate. Ever since he had listened to that recording device, he had trusted Furuta even less - what with the revelation that he was the clown that started this whole mess; That bit wasn’t said, of course - Furuta would much rather kill himself than to admit to something that big, but he was able to piece it together. He had seethed about that fact for weeks, but eventually, the rage that had been present in his body had simmered. It’s not that he wasn’t still angered by it, just that he was sick and tired of having his life controlled, being pulled in all directions by puppet strings - so he had decided on living by the old phrase, “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer”.
‘Furuta?’ Sasaki asked softly, his voice echoing in the darkened office. Sasaki himself was lying back on his office chair, his feet propped on his desk. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind, and picked up a yellow highlighter. He started to play with it; taking of it’s cap, throwing it up into the air, catching it, and putting it back on again. After a short while, it got boring, So he started humming. But he found it quickly got annoying, and stopped. So instead, trying to stop fidgeting, he sank deeper into the leather chair he was lying on and closed his eyes, relishing in the breeze that was blowing in from the open window.
Furuta - who was seated on a similar leather chair to his superior’s - was leaning over his slightly smaller desk on the other side of the room, and was in the process of finishing the last of the assigned paperwork on one of the earlier cases investigated by the CCG. It was routine stuff, but one still had to concentrate when doing it. So, when he replied to his superior, it was understandable that his voice was distracted, his focus mainly on the small stack of papers before him. ‘Yes?’ He replied, his voice quiet, matching the atmosphere of the room. And it wasn’t a tense quiet either, rather, a companionable silence.
Furuta enjoyed these periods of silence, as he could get his work finished quickly, and relax comfortably, without any distractions or interruption. Looking to the left hand side of the desk, he sighed aloud in relief, realizing as he turned over the last sheet of paper, that it was the last. Honestly, He thought, scowling slightly, Yes it’s easy, and I can work through it pretty quickly, but does the work have to be so tedious?
Sasaki took time to ask his question, instead opening his eyes again, to take a look around the room. It was painted in a variety of soft, earthy browns. The floor was covered in a light grey carpet. There was a pair of two cushion sofas sitting opposite each other in the center of the room, for any meetings that the two investigators might have had arranged. The couches were made of smooth leather, and were very comfortable - good for quick naps. Though sleeping on them for any more than an hour, and your neck won’t feel right for the rest of the day. ‘Have you ever felt like running from this place,’ He waved his arm in a sweeping gesture. ‘Just packing your things, and leaving?’ He asked, after what seemed like an eternity, his voice keeping it’s soft, melodic tones. Shouting was never a thing that could be associated with Sasaki Haise. In fact, his voice never rose above a pleasant indoor voice.
There was a melancholy air about Sasaki, Furuta noticed, as he looked up from signing the last piece of paperwork. As he stared into his superior’s soft gray eyes, he thought about the question. Have I? He thought, frowning in contemplation. Have I truly ever thought such a thing, to run from it all? V, the Clowns, the CCG. To take off my mask, and hang it up for good? To stop being a tool for those who think they are above me? He gave a small nod, and a muttered ‘Yes.’
Sasaki hummed thoughtfully, examining his nails. ‘Would you take the opportunity if it was given to you?’ Sasaki asked a third question, and Furuta began to wonder where this was going. But he tried not to think on it, and decided it was only his bosses unusual mind that was fueling these unclear questions. He answered the question with a shrug, and stood slowly, gaining the attention of the other man.
‘I. . . I think I would, to be honest, but that kind of thing hardly matters, does it?’ Furuta replied, gathering his coat in his arms. As walked to the door, his expression was thoughtful, and his gait was distracted. The soft click of the lock echoed as he turned back towards his superior. ‘Goodnight, Sasaki.’ He gave a short wave, and left, bathing the room in silence once again.
Ah, it seems like I’ve given him something to think about. He scoffed. “Hardly matters”, huh? Sasaki smiled, and stood. First, he went to the window, and closed it, making sure the latch was secure. Then, in the same manner as his subordinate, he gathered his coat and strolled to the open door. Closing it behind him and locking it, he walked down the deserted corridor; however, unlike Furuta, his footing was as precise as ever - not a movement wasted.