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HANDLE: MR. KUULGUY

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[It was easier to speak of when he spoke about it clinically. He almost tried to imagine he was discussing this with someone else—the fact that they were so casually discussing his departure from humanity would be stranger than him doing so with a stranger.

It was difficult enough to parse answers for broader questions. He's starting to wonder how he's going to react when Hide starts to needle for more sensitive information (because he will, he knows him, so he knows he will).]

No... it's okay.
Admittedly I reacted sharply... You only said as much as they will probably see, if we have to do much more fighting...

[Even that was uncomfortable to mention. He doesn't like to think that Hide will one day see him, kagune drawn, one of his eyes blackened with the pupil burning hot as a live coal. Half-ghoul.

He knows what Hide is saying. In many ways, he agrees, or close enough that there's no point in arguing. But still.]

There are similarities in other worlds, you're right. Wells' included.
That's not what worries me. It's the differences that do that.

[In other worlds, the power differential was enough to cause friction, but in those worlds they at least stood on the same plane despite that. They weren't dealing with natural predators, an inflexibility of that hierarchy that allowed nothing else.

It applied. It would always apply. He wasn't sure how far he'd have to go before he made Hide understand that.]

[mankind's natural predator -- a highly restricted diet, he'd told another; hadn't even thought that the man wouldn't pick up what foodstuff that pushed the ghouls toward. but Lancer hadn't asked, and Hide hadn't told, and now it was a truth hidden.]

[it made sense.]

[more importantly, it got Kaneki talking about it. over text, which wasn't ideal, but a start was a start, and Hideyoshi would take it.]

haven't seen a similarity there yet, to be sure.

[which... was surprising, honestly. ghouls weren't a perpetual fear for most citizens; nonetheless, it was like imagining the ocean without sharks. only worse, what with ghouls being a sentient group of their own - and the center of both of their lives for the past, what, year? a little less? close enough.]

hey--

[a catch in thought, his mind running itself into a wall to force a stop. it last for a sharp four seconds (on his end, anyway) before he realized what toned it needed to be in, and then it wasn't so bad that they were text-based.]

[this sort of concern used to be fly-away. a comment that diverged into teasing the moment a decision was made clear. no matter his tone, even Hide couldn't avoid acknowledging the tension he was practically asking for.]

are you eating alright?

[In a way, Kaneki knows that it's a truth that can't be dodged forever. He's not as good of a liar as he thinks he is, especially when approached point-blank, and if one looked carefully enough, all of the clues are there. He only hopes that everyone else would be too absorbed in their own lives to care too much about his own. Especially if ALISTAIR remained good on their promise to keep him properly supplied with food, it would never become an issue.

He doesn't reply. It's not as though Kaneki would ever tell anyone else suffering from strife in their own world based on what they were that theirs was not as dire of a situation as his own simply because those particular differences. It made the issue that much more strenuous for his own world, but it wouldn't devalue the struggles of anyone else. Thus, he had largely kept out of the conversation, unwilling to speak too much and too openly about ghouls and how they functioned in society.

But—

The attention-grabbing statement, floating in digital subspace for several long seconds, makes him feel anxious. That anxiousness is actualized when the question is finally posed.

Kaneki does not reply.]

[For a while, anyway.

Definitely not as long as an hour, but he attempts to distract himself (in vain, mostly), hoping the answer would puzzle itself out in the back of his mind as he did. It's not as easy as that. He knows Hide (or at least, he thinks he does) better than anyone else, and he knows that, even if the guy let this slip for now, he would ask again later. He was, in a single word, tenacious.

It feels wrong. It feels just as wrong as when he had stirred from the floor of the cavernous tunnel, head full of haze but body whole, the taste of human blood in his mouth—a knot in his stomach. He wishes Hide would just leave this to him, to trust him with it, but.

Eventually:]

If ALISTAIR continues to supply me as they already have, I will be fine.

[It's about as much of an answer as he can expect out of him for now.]

[I've been keeping an eye out for a coffee shop, was the natural path Hideyoshi wanted to take. too bad the climate's not right. and, the sun leaving can't have helped. with, though it makes me wonder how they've got any food growing at all!]

[nothing close to an hour before the reply, but the radio silence speaks as loudly as any give me a moment might have. as it doesn't pass an hour, Hideyoshi doesn't send a consolation or never mind, it's fine-- Kaneki would read through that before the blond could blink. it would've only made matters worse. but when worse was based in silence and a willfully turned blind eye, was it worth bringing up?]

[he couldn't even pretend to ponder that question. the decision he'd made had its roots in resolve and determination; yes, yes, the changes were fully worth prying into. off-hand hints, gentle steering and keeping casual had gotten them into this mess in the first place.]

[(not 'this mess' as in Kaneki's change of taste toward humans - rather, 'this mess' as in the silences, the fears, the hesitations.)]

[he trusted Kaneki to do what he thought was necessary.]

[he didn't trust what Kaneki thought was necessary for a second.]

[eventually an answer did come, and - the blond smiled, mild triumph rushing through him, tempered immediately with the follow-up curiousity of what Kaneki thought was fine (full was asking too much; but not all ghouls had the sunken look Kaneki's face did) - it didn't involve directly telling Hideyoshi to buzz off, so he'd take that as a good sign. less good: formality at full blast, words stilted and closed, the overall emotional impression that of a prickly, antsy creature driven into a corner. which -- the corner part, anyway - wasn't entirely incorrect from Hideyoshi's intentions.]

[it was for their own good. Kaneki had to trust him. all of him. his motivation, his loyalty, his tenacity as a friend and as a human.]

[for now ... the discussion on what to discuss about ghouls seemed too tentative to be resolved, but he wasn't sure how much farther either of them could go this close to the beginning.]

that's good to hear. [genuine, whether or not Kaneki believed him. twenty seconds (counted by the tap of his foot) after, borderline nonchalant,] i have to wonder how many units like ours are in their employment. who do they work for? it's hap-hazard enough to be bureaucratic, but maybe that's a line of thinking too limited to earth's experience.

[He knew it was Hide's natural instinct when things got tough. Once upon a time, it had helped—it had worked wonders, enough to provide Kaneki some semblance of normalcy to cling to when everything else seemed so difficult. When he was quiet and forlorn over some difficulty at home, the recent (at the time) passing of his mother or the increasing neglect of his aunt, Hide would pick up on it, pry what information he needed, and then veer directly into subterfuge: carefully-wrought distraction, enough to monopolize Kaneki's thoughts so that everything else faded in all the hours he got away.

It had worked. It had worked well enough, at least, making the hours he could get at school, after school, out at town all seem like they were islands of refuge, lifelines thrown when he felt like he was drifting away. He remembers. He still appreciates it, still thinking that he owes Hide so much—too much—for what he still believes to be saving his life all those years ago.

But it didn't seem to work here. Not when the separation had been something of his own design, his own decision, something he genuinely thought would be for the best. He knew it would've been at odds with Hide, so he hadn't said anything before disappearing. For the best, for the best. It was a mantra to keep the guilt (and the feeling oddly akin to homesickness, one he couldn't define) from biting at him too hard. It only half-helped.

The reason it doesn't feel right is that the level of normalcy and casualness that Hide aims for now is something that no longer feels right to Kaneki. The thought of life as it was, his apartment, going to university, chatting in coffee shops with Hide—it all seemed so far-away, like the memories of another person or perhaps in a different life. That he had showed up, clad in CCG gear, trying to appeal to those age-old memories... it had been too much then, still too much now.

He tries. That he sent a (truthful) reply at all was evidence enough of that. But it still felt odd, wrong, that Hide be so acutely aware of the truth of what he was and be so perfectly fine with it. It wasn't something that normal people were just fine with. The number of tips sent into the CCG daily was evidence enough of that.

They were friends, and they had been friends for so long, but he thinks that only goes to a point. It should, shouldn't it? Would he feel the same if he knew how close he had come to devouring him after defeating Nishiki? Would he feel the same if he knew what Kaneki had done, in the tunnel under the city—

He shoves the memory away just as readily as bile rises in his throat.

He is grateful for the change in subject.]

We've seen so little of them, we can't know for sure.
I feel as though there was something in the way that it was handled that seemed practiced, though. I definitely think there are other groups like ours... I'm just not sure how they are handled or managed—if they are at all.
They are certainly using a hands-off approach for us.

[almost was not had done; humans and ghouls were both flawed creatures; Kaneki almost became the monster they feared, but he had not and would not, and it was unlikely knowledge of any future event would shake Hideyoshi's conviction. so he believed - but then, he hadn't heard the other's recounting of the moments in his world before his arrival.]

[there was... something. he'd thought the undercurrent of distress had been related to the other's ghoul persuasion was now open knowledge between them, but as time went on, he had to wonder if there wasn't more. that they could come from different points in time was a possibility, but not one he paid much attention to. Kaneki should have been grievously injured when they first met; yet, it made no sense for their employers to send them to the field with injuries.]

[so there had to be something else. no, no, he was over-analyzing (he always over-analyzed), it could be-- an extension of-- the worries related to a friendship between human and ghoul--?]

[...]

[at this point, it had to be something else.]

no kidding! [badmouthing ALASTAIR wasn't new even by this early point. regardless, Kaneki was someone he could be fully blunt with - though ALASTAIR undoubtedly had access to all text messages, he couldn't imagine why they'd care. (a full change in subject. the half-ghoul could breath easier now).] talk about disorganized! do they want us to make all our own calls? do they think this motley crew has any sense of justice beyond "i'll do this because i can?"

it's stupid, and absolutely absurd.

[He's not used to keeping things from Hide. The guy had a sense for when people were keeping things (or bullshitting him, conversely), and Kaneki had seen that years and years ago, late enough to know that it was easiest for him to keep things by completely avoiding him. It's how he had managed to (he thought) keep his secret early on, avoiding him when it was at its worse, trying his hardest to keep the mask in place when he did manage to go to school, go out afterward.

The more he thinks about it, the less he's surprised that Hide had managed to figure it out. His lies were always written on his face for the other guy—open like the books he read, as Hide said once or twice before. He's more surprised he'd jump to that (previously unbelievable) truth, but... Kaneki knew the strength of Hide's natural intuition, even without knowing the pervasiveness of it.

So how long would he able to keep this to himself?]

It seems like more people are being motivated to do this "because I have to." To get back home for them, anyway.

[Doesn't sound like he includes himself. Considering his thoughts on what was happening back home for him, one couldn't blame him.]

Either it's normal of them to drop newly-initiated strangers off to complete missions like this, or something big is happening that they have to deal with that while we're here.
Neither way really instills much confidence.

[...]

[for them, was it? that small implication stood as far more interesting than ALASTAIR's enduring incompetence.]

heading back... you think they'd drop us off at the exact moment they took us? [a beat. he wasn't convinced, but it remained to be seen.] we could have some wiggle room.

[And this was one subject he had not wanted to approach within twenty yards of. He's kicking himself for mentioning it even tangentially. Of course Hide would pick up on that—he should never make the mistake of thinking he wouldn't.

There's a brief pause in conversation, but he does reply shortly after.]

From what I've seen, they certainly have the power to either do that or something else, depending on what they wanted.

[Whether or not they'd allow the "wiggle room" was up in the air.]

wherever the wind takes us will have to work, then.

[neat and simple and definite. us, and maybe I don't mind as much if it's not Earth, though his feelings were mixed-- they solidified by the day, however, and though he wondered at what would cut Kaneki's ties from the planet they came from (he'd always been the sentimental one), he couldn't imagine it being a secret forever.]

[it wouldn't be a secret forever.]

[on the subject of mitigation, miscommunication and disorganization:]

ah, what a pain!

It'll be something we deal with when it comes up.
From the pace of things here, I don't think it'll be any time soon.

[Mixed emotions on that front, but he isn't really in a dire need to get home. Or in any need to get home at all. Back to a world where all that waited for him was the Reaper, the guilt and fear cloying on his tongue in the taste of blood?

No. With both of them whole and hale and alive here, he was already finding this to be a far better replacement. And... without ghouls, without the fear and the hysteria... It was a better situation than he could've asked for in an "afterlife." If there was such a thing.

Regardless. It's time for Kaneki to broach a subject which felt inevitable, though he feels Hide might not enjoy it, just as he hadn't enjoyed several of his.]

Hide...
If violence breaks out for whatever reason, will you... try to keep out of it?
Or just... call me.

[The words look stilted after he's thought them; they felt that way as he processed them, but it was difficult. It was an absolute imperative that Hide remain safe, though the methods by which intersected with things he did not want his friend to see. But if it was necessary—he would, even if it left a bitter taste in his mouth.]

[the verbal equivalent of a physical promise, all presence and posture and paranoia wrapped up in a malnourished anomaly --- his friend, Kaneki Ken, a person he would and had lay down his life for. A person who could easily snap him and any of his foes (magic not withstanding) in half, offering him aid for what was obviously half of ALASTAIR's missions.]

[it was fair: Hide had about as much offensive skill as a startled songbird.]

[but it was also a-- question, a curiousity, a why don't you want to return? He knew his own reasoning-- he could feel out his own reasoning, he felt the edges of it, all bluster and fear and a dose of finally found him, but it wasn't complete and he found it far easier to wonder at Kaneki's excuse. Kaneki, his friend, offering the side he wanted to hide the most to keep Hideyoshi safe. At the end of the day, who knew how much it would help; but the thought, the offer, that mattered more than words.]

if you ever need somewhere to crash, Kaneki, you know my door is open

[acceptance, acknowledgement, and reciprocation.]

[an offer he'd thought had been clear before, but obviously hadn't. maybe if he'd offered-- maybe if they'd been able to communicate like this--? Maybe, maybe, maybe the present wasn't too late.]

right?

[Was it that strange to imagine he might not be in a rush to return home? The words seem to find him at odd points in the day, sharp with a cloying type of hope which only seemed to poison him now: "Come on, let's just go home." It wasn't that easy. It would never be that easy. He couldn't just drop what he was, what he had become, everything he had done and return back to being a university student. It would find him. Aogiri, the CCG, anyone—they would find him, and the exposure would be even worse.

"Home" was a place that was no longer welcoming, even more harmful because it was interlaced with memories of when things had been simple, had been commonplace. It had become difficult, even walking the streets in Tokyo, so easily seeped into memories of where his mind had been before Rize, before the accident, before all of this.

In that, it was almost easier being in a foreign world, fighting battles that weren't his own. And Hide being here... it worried him, but in a selfish way, he was happy. It had been his imperative that he had pushed his friend away (for his own good, always for that), but it didn't mean he hadn't missed him.

Of course, there were the other reasons. The simple fact that, if they were dropped right where they were found, there was nothing left for him back home. Nothing but the CCG's reaper, standing amidst a field of corpses.

...The offer means a lot, even though he isn't sure he'll be able to accept it any time soon. As much as he feared Hide learning the broader strokes in how he had been changed, he didn't want him aware of some of the smaller things either. He's silent a moment before answering.]

Yeah.
I'll... I'll keep that in mind.
...Thanks, Hide.

[It doesn't convey across text, but the sentiment is somewhat raw. Thanks didn't even start to cover it. For accepting something like him, the capricious and dangerous creature he had become, so easily... In a way it worries him, but otherwise it...

Feels far more like "home" than their planet Earth currently does.]

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