Chapter Text
Haise knew he wasn’t exactly a normal person. It wasn’t that he had an odd appearance or acted strangely. To anyone else, he was just another university student, polite and soft-spoken, blending into the crowd.
But deep down, he knew something wasn’t quite right.
There were gaps in his memory, days, sometimes weeks, that he couldn’t recall. His skin bore scars he didn’t remember getting. He’d wake up in unfamiliar places wearing clothes he didn’t remember putting on, his fingers raw and aching as if he had spent hours clawing at something unseen.
And then there were the voices.
Low whispers that slithered into his ears, tugging at the corners of his mind. Some were gentle murmurs, others sharp and demanding. Sometimes, when the world got too quiet, he would hear the distinct crack of knuckles that didn’t belong to him.
When he was younger, he thought he had been possessed. A ghost, a demon, something had to be haunting him. How else could he explain losing time? The first time he’d blacked out and woken up with blood under his nails, he had cried for hours, terrified of himself.
Was he going insane?
Maybe. But there was no use dwelling on it. He had learned to function, to pretend. He got through high school, even excelled in his studies. He picked literature as his major at Kamii University because stories were easier to understand than himself. His life wasn’t fine, but he had control, some fragile semblance of normalcy.
Until he saw him.
Haise wasn’t sure what happened. One moment, he was sitting in his usual spot, pen in hand. The next, his body felt wrong. A jolt of something electric ran through his limbs, and the world blurred.
When he blinked, the class had ended.
His glasses were missing. His breath was uneven.
And the blonde was waving at him, his voice bright and familiar.
“See ya, Kaneki!”
The name hit him like a punch to the gut. His stomach twisted.
Who was that?
He forced a polite smile, raising a hand in an awkward wave. For appearance’s sake. For survival.
Then he turned and fumbled through his bag with shaking hands, finding his glasses buried beneath his books. He shoved them onto his face, but the distortion of his vision wasn’t the issue. His eyes burned. His throat felt raw.
And in his mind, someone was screaming.
—
Haise didn’t know about them.
And they would make sure he never did.
Naïve, sweet, and innocent Haise didn’t deserve to remember. He was untouched and unafraid, the most functional of them all. He could live. That was the deal, the silent agreement between them.
But then he walked in.
“Hide…”
The moment that familiar figure entered the classroom, Neki had started sobbing. His tiny form curled up in the inner world, hands clutching his knees, rocking himself as the memories surged forward. He was only a child, but he carried the unbearable weight of their past.
And he remembered.
Hide’s laughter. Hide’s warmth. Hide’s promise to be together forever, a promise that had been broken the day Kaneki disappeared.
The desperate need to reach him overwhelmed them. Neki had pushed forward, fronting for mere minutes, body shaking as he clung to Hide. “I missed you,” he had whispered, voice thick with tears, burying himself in the comfort of his childhood friend. Hide had frozen at first, confused, before wrapping his arms around him.
“I missed you too, buddy.”
But Neki was too fragile to hold control.
Ken had taken over, composing himself just enough to keep Hide from asking too many questions. To pretend. That’s what he was good at.
He had forced a grin. “It’s been a while, man!”
Hide’s golden eyes flickered with something unreadable. “I searched for you everywhere,” he admitted. “It was like you disappeared into thin air.”
Ken’s smile didn’t falter, but inside, he felt the weight of a thousand ghosts pressing against him.
If only Hide knew how right he was.
“You know how it is, man. I’ve been… around,” Ken said with a chuckle, forcing lightness into his voice.
It felt strange coming from his mouth, like something borrowed, like something not his. But Hide didn’t seem to notice. Good. Maybe, if he played this right, the conversation could stay normal. Maybe nothing had to—
“How’s your aunt?”
His breath hitched.
The words sank their teeth into him, dragged him back.
He saw the empty dinner table, the untouched second plate she never bothered setting, the walls that swallowed his cries whole. The cold bathroom tiles, the sting of too-hot water on his skin, washing away the evidence of another lonely night.
Dangerous.
The voice slithered through his mind; sharp, edged. Black Reaper. A warning. A command.
Ken swallowed thickly. He forced a shrug. Casual. Normal. Just answer. “She’s fine. I’m staying with other family members now.”
A clean lie. One he had told before.
Arima. The man who had found him. Who had seen what was left of him, wide-eyed, shaking, caged in his own mind, and decided to keep him. Mado, his sister, another orphan Arima had taken in, her own past just as bloodstained.
They were a family. Or something like it.
“Cool,” Hide said, still smiling, still effortless. “The glasses are new.”
“They’re for resting.”
He took them off, turning them over in his hands; lightweight, familiar, grounding. He handed them to Hide without thinking.
Predictably, Hide put them on immediately. He adjusted them on his nose, struck a dramatic pose. “How do I look?”
Ken blinked.
The grin was so Hide, so unapologetically him, that for a moment, everything went still.
Beautiful.
Sassan thought the word before she could stop herself. She was the only female alter, bubbly and flirtatious, often at the worst possible moments.
And maybe, just maybe, she had said it out loud.
Hide’s sudden burst of laughter made Ken jolt. “Thanks, man!” he grinned, completely unfazed.
Ken felt heat rush to his face. Damn it. He snatched the glasses back and shoved them to the bottom of his backpack, hoping Hide wouldn’t notice the way his hands trembled.
Before he could dwell on it, the professor strode into the classroom, voice cutting through the hum of chatter. “All right, class, settle down.”