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“Please…run away.”
Kaneki choked out, trying to keep himself from drooling blood and saliva all over the place. God, the investigator tasted fantastic. He wanted more.
Luckily, the guy was going to run away.
A long groan pierced the air, followed shortly after by a thud, and even in his dazed state Kaneki knew what that meant. The investigator he’d bitten had passed out from the pain.
Unconscious, he’d be even easier to bite…
Like this he could almost pass for a nice cut of meat…
Just lying there…
(Kaneki was so close)
(Blood was all he could smell)
(It was exquisite)
Something sharp pierced his back and Kaneki passed out himself.
Yomo stared at the two men currently face-down in a puddle. Kaneki would recover quickly and the investigator didn’t seem too damaged. He could probably slap Kaneki awake, leave the Dove behind, and call it day.
The massive investigator chuffed into the water beneath his face, heaving in a great shudder. His twitching hands latched onto Kaneki’s hoodie and pinched the fabric between his thumb and forefinger (his knuckles went white from the strain).
Well…Yomo had always been curious how much weight he could carry. The investigator couldn’t weigh more than a tree, right?
He weighed more than a tree.
How was that possible????
Yomo could actually taste blood in the back of his throat from the way his lungs were straining. This stupid human on his shoulder shifted every 10 seconds, knocking into Kaneki, tipping Yomo off-balance constantly.
Worse, his carry-on luggage (AKA Kaneki Ken) had somehow managed to get a grip on the investigator’s hand.
And Yomo’s.
He’d lost circulation in his arm from the angle it was being bent at like 20 minutes ago. Everything was cold and wet. Getting to Anteiku was requiring way more stealth than anticipated.
Uuugggggghhh…
“Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME!?”
Touka screamed, not even waiting for Yomo to toe off his wet boots or make a nice coffee OR MAYBE GET HIS CIRCULATION BACK (he liked hand-holding, but Kaneki was a friggin’ albatross, wringing out his hand). Yomo grumbled to himself under his breath, tossing both of his passengers to the ground (the floor shook…that Dove was basically carved from marble).
“That guy is HUNTING HINAMI! I killed his partner!!”
Touka’s voice was taking on the edge of hysteria as Yomo ignored her (where were the good blonde beans…really, he needed a caffeine boost).
“We are all going to die when he wakes up. He’ll know about Anteiku, we’ll have to shut down, Yoshimura will never forgive me-”
Touka’s yelling was almost a soothing background noise. Not quite soothing (Yomo was relatively sure he’d be attacked soon), but close enough as he waited for his coffee to brew. The smell was getting Kaneki to stir.
“Whazzit?”
Kaneki muttered, face pressed into the floor. Touka turned on her heel, continuing her tirade to Kaneki instead,
“WHY IS HE HERE? WHY DOES HE HAVE A CHUNK MISSING FROM HIS SHOULDER? WHAT DID YOU DO!?”
Blearily, Kaneki tried to sit upright, only to be jerked back into place by something attached to his arm. He regarded the unknown hand with muzzy confusion.
“Who’s this?”
He asked stupidly, causing Touka to do something drastic (there was a clatter and…oh, had she thrown a chair?).
“Ow! Touka!”
(Yep, she had.)
“WHO’S THIS? WHO IS THIS? HE’S THE INVESTIGATOR YOU PRESUMABLY HALF-ASSED YOUR WAY INTO A FIGHT WITH!”
Touka’s face had gone an interesting shade of red. Yomo thought that mugs of a similar shade would suit the colour scheme of the cafe well. He should place an order at some point (would she notice and attempt to murder him? Only time would tell).
“Stop yelling…”
Came a moan from the floor in a much deeper register than Kaneki was capable of creating. Yomo quirked an eyebrow, looking at the pile of bedraggled investigator on the floor.
Kaneki turned white as a sheet and shucked his jacket, scrabbling behind the bar and crawling to the backroom. The mystery of what he was doing would have to wait to be solved however, because Touka looked dangerously close to murdering the investigator.
“Oh, you’re awake.”
He said, drawing the man’s attention to him. Slowly, Yomo stood, wandering over to a cabinet by the door filled with towels for rainy days,
“Here, dry that blood off. Maybe try to mop the water out of your clothes too if you don’t want to get sick.”
Over the man’s shoulder, Yomo could see Touka flashing him an incredulous expression. In response, he gave a one-armed shrug (it’s not like the guy had to know they were ghouls).
“How did I…”
The man started to ask, pressing the towel firmly into his shoulder (it was turning a deep red very quickly), but Kaneki tripped into the room. He skidded to a halt at the Dove’s feet.
“I, uh, I spotted you!”
He cried, adjusting the collar of his waiter’s uniform nervously (his eyepatch conspicuously absent).
“You were bleeding on the street and I worked here, it was nearby, I thought-”
Kaneki’s gaze was flitting around the room, desperately avoiding landing on the man’s shoulder (probably worried his kakugan would show up), and Yomo almost wanted to take a photo. Yoshimura would surely find it amusing.
“Thank you.”
The man said firmly (warmly…?) at the same time Kaneki blurted,
“Sorry!”
The two of them stared at each other (Kaneki panting for breath after his little tirade) for a moment. Suspiciously, colour began to climb up the man’s throat and settled on the tips of his ears. Unsure and confused, Kaneki lifted a delicate hand to pat the man on the chest.
“Are you ok, sir?”
He asked quietly, completely missing Touka’s absolutely terrifying glare in his direction. Mutely, the Dove nodded, his face turning a shade darker.
“I need to go.”
The Dove abruptly said, nodding to each of them in turn. He practically sprinted back out onto the street, leaving the atmosphere in Anteiku much…more confused…calm…maybe just less-aggressive than before.
“OH.”
Or not.
“MY.”
Yep, peace was only an illusion while Touka was around.
“GOD. THAT DOVE WANTS A PIECE OF YOU!”
The investigator came back to Anteiku a week later to ‘say thanks’. His thanks involved a massive gift basket of cupcakes, flowers, and some high-quality beans.
Yomo accepted it wordlessly, not commenting on the way the Dove glanced hopefully into the back room. He wasn’t going to tell the guy Kaneki’s schedule. He’d just have to come back every day until he figured it out.
Heh.