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Akira runs her hands through Haise’s hair, bringing a comb through to gently part the strands. It's not excessively long, and because he's showered recently, the hair responds well to her fingers.
“What are you doing to my hair?” Haise asks, half turning in his chair to try and look at her. From where she's standing behind him, it's not an easy task.
“Quit squirming, Haise. It'll be easier for both of us If you'd just hold still for a minute.”
“You didn't even answer the question.” Haise sighs.
“I'm making sure my subordinate doesn't have bedhead before the function tonight. Does that satisfy your endless curiosity?”
“Well… kinda. But couldn't you have just forced me to go to the salon?”
“I could've. Would you have listened?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, no matter. You're part of the Mado squad, so it's imperative that I make sure you're up to standard. After all, if you make a mistake, it reflects badly on me.”
“Yeesh. Talk about a weight on my shoulders.”
“It's on both of our shoulders.” Akira corrects him. “As my next in line, were both culpable and responsible for each other. An attack on your person is an attack on my methods. That's why I asserted myself against Shigumochi’s not-so-subtle barbs toward you.”
“That was really nice of you, mom. Surprised me there. I thought I was gonna get chewed out.” Haise says, unable to hide his smile.
“Watch what you say.” Akira reprimands him, tugging on his hair and making him yelp. “I won't have you taking advantage of being under my protection. And don't call me mom later. The other investigators won't be as forgiving as I am.”
“Whatever you say, ma’am.” Haise replies, apparently determined to get the last word in.
“Must you be so unruly?” Akira asks, shaking her head. “I'm not 40, you don't have to be so formal when we aren't working.”
“Akira is fine, then?”
“Yes. And on the topic of parents...” Akira trails off, hesitating before speaking again. “My father and I used to do this.”
Haise perks up at that, quelling the urge to look her way again. He's very curious about what kind of expression she has on her face right now. She’s never spoken about her parents beyond the pride she has in their work. And it's not like she's one to share drinks with a subordinate.
“Care to elaborate?” Haise asks, testing the waters.
“It's nothing special, really.” Akira says, absently running her hands through the fine strands of his hair. “When I was younger, he'd braid my hair, and sometimes I'd fix his. That's all.”
It may just have been Haise's overactive imagination, but the ever stalwart Akira was clearly deep in thought. It struck him that this couldn’t have been some one off statement. With all of her calculated manner of speech and focus on proper sentence structure, this wasn’t just a throwaway statement. Akira still has those braids in her hair, perhaps done the same way her father made them for her all those years ago. And if that’s the case… Is this her way of passing that tradition down?
No, he must be looking too far into it.
The time of the ball approaches faster than expected, and Haise finds himself happy with how he looks. Even if the hairstyle is a little different than his usual, he doesn’t hate it. His hair part is pushed to the side rather than the usual natural line down the middle, giving it a more refined look. Not a far cry from Akira’s own blonde hair, which contrasts sharply with his black and white.
Haise finds her cradling a glass between her fingers, finally free for a moment, he decides to go to her side. There’s been congratulations exchanged practically nonstop, especially for the daughter of Kureo Mado.
“Associate special class.” Akira murmurs, getting used to the weight of the title.
“I’m sure you’ve already heard it a thousand times by now, but congrats.” Haise says, standing close.
“Still, there’s a lot of work to be done.”
“But it’s got to feel nice, right?” Haise asks.
“And what of yourself?” Akira asks, patting him on the shoulder with a small smile. “First class investigator at your age? Completely unheard of. You’ve continued to do well, Haise.”
He blushes at that, sheepishly averting his eyes. “It’s nothing special really. I couldn’t have done it without your support.”
“You may be an investigator who can truly surpass Arima in time. But you have a lot of ground to make up. Make your time count.” Akira suggests.
“Well, Akira. Can I have a hug?” Haise asks, smiling freely at her. Standing there in the middle of the ballroom, dressed to the nines in his newly ironed uniform.
“Right now?”
“Oh, is that not okay?” He asks, his smile faltering slightly as he looks nervously at the people around.
“Fine. Come here.” Akira says reluctantly, opening her arms wide for his arrival. Haise can’t hide the glee as he embraces Akira, not caring in the slightest about if anyone is watching, he indulges freely.
Haise takes care not to crush her with his arms, not that it’s of any particular worry. He hugs her tight, nestling his face in the crook of her neck as he shudders with the sigh of relief he gives. Despite opening her arms for the hug, Akira is somewhat surprised. She didn’t expect him to be this forward. A hug is one thing, but this doesn’t seem to be some quick affair either. Not with how he starts to close his eyes contently.
“You’d better not fall asleep.” Akira grumbles. Despite her apparent displeasure, she begins to rub soothing circles on his back, feeling the muscle there from his hard work. He’s not some boulder of a man, but he’s put in the work, and she hopes he finds some pride in that. He is a fine subordinate, and even with him being taller than her, his posture isn’t aggressive or towering in the slightest. In fact, he ducks down into her, as if trying to hide. Not out of any sense of fear of course, but it’s made quite clear who the provider is.
Haise feels his needs met, like a deep warmth that fills something he needs more than air. Her arms are strong around him, and she allows him to cling to her. A sense of overarching safety, like a bubble he never wants to leave. The knowledge that Akira can back this up only provides more fuel to his fire. The knowledge and intangible feeling that only in this woman’s arms is he safe from the world’s fortune. He starts to feel sleepy before he pulls away, but he’d have spent longer in her arms if he could’ve. For any sort of perception or self doubt fell away under the reassuring shield that was Akira’s hold.
Kaneki walks alone on the way home. He finds himself taking a longer route than usual, enjoying the serene landscape the snow provides. In his left hand, a bag of groceries for his family. In his right, an assortment of books from the library. With any luck, they can all read some of them together. He, Touka, and their daughter of course.
Then, a flash of blonde hair stands out amidst the blank landscape, ripping him from his reverie. It can’t be, right? His chest tightens at even the hopeful thought. An almost gut wrenching idea. But before he can second guess himself, he pushes through the streets to get closer.
Their paths finally align, and Akira’s eyes widen. She clearly wasn’t expecting it would be him she’d find on this snowy day, nor did he expect to find her.
“Ken, it's you right? It looks like life has treated you well. I'm… glad.” She says, her voice softer than he remembered it.
Kaneki’s jaw goes slightly slack, and he carefully loosens his grip on his bags. Barely conscientious enough to remember to set them down gently so as not to ruin their contents.
Akira looks like there's something she wants to say, but she can't find the words. Instead, she averts her gaze, looking anywhere but his face. The silence between them is like a barrier, an invisible wall of air pressure so dense it prevents Akira from taking a step forwards. Much less bringing voice to her words.
What if he doesn't want me in his life anymore? He's more mature now. Does he resent me for leaving? Was what we had back then real? Do I even deserve a seat from which to observe this young man's life? He's not my subordinate anymore. Did I misread him? Did I burn that bridge the moment I said I needed time? Her thoughts swirl around like debris in a tornado, none taking particular precedence, but all revolving back to him.
Finally, she finds her voice.
“Ken, I-”
Kaneki puts an end to her spiraling doubts with something as simple as a step. He wraps his arms around her, burying his head in her shoulder. Throwing her off guard with the hug. It isn't long before Akira reciprocates, bringing a hand to his hair at the back of his head. She runs her fingers through his hair as he cries.
“You're still needy as ever.” She tries to joke, as If she isn't teary eyed as well.
“I missed you, mom. That's why.” He says, his voice breaking as he sobs. “I can't wait to tell you everything. There's so much I have to say.”
“Then I'll be here to listen, Ken. For as long as you need.”