Chapter Text
Ken Kaneki, though he rarely thought of himself by that name anymore, stood motionless on the edge of a high-rise rooftop, his black coat billowing in the cold wind that swept across the city.
The black reaper didn't waste time on sentiment. He had learned, through pain and loss, that emotions were weaknesses to be excised, distractions from the mission that consumed every aspect of his existence now. He had work to do, enemies to eliminate, a fate to meet.
Personal attachments were luxuries he could no longer afford.
Yet here he was, three blocks away from Re, telling himself that his presence in this area was purely tactical. That his elevated position provided optimal surveillance opportunities. That the intelligence he might gather from observing the Re café and its surroundings served his larger goals.
All lies, of course. But lies he maintained with the same cold discipline he applied to everything else in his carefully controlled existence.
Below him, the city continued its nightly rhythm, traffic flowing through arterial streets and pedestrians hurrying between pools of streetlight. He could see Re, its warm windows glowing like a beacon in the darkness.
A beacon that drew him despite every rational thought that told him to stay away.
The café was closing now, the last customers departing into the night as the staff began their end-of-shift routine. Through the windows, he could see movement, wiping down tables, counting the register, the mundane tasks that marked the transition from day to night.
And there, moving with the same grace he remembered from a lifetime ago, was Touka.
The sight of her hit him hard, though his expression remained impassive. She looked older, more mature, but still unmistakably herself. Still beautiful in that understated way that had first caught his attention back when he'd been young and stupid enough to believe that feelings mattered.
When he'd really been Ken Kaneki, fumbling college student who was trying to understood the world.
But now, he watched.
The door locked, the lights dimmed. And instead of leaving immediately, Touka remained inside.
Nishiki Nishio emerged from the back of the café. Kaneki's enhanced vision caught the easy familiarity between them as Nishiki said something that made Touka make a face of displeasure, then a smile. Then Nishiki did something that made the black reaper's carefully controlled mask crack.
He reached out and rested his hand on Touka's shoulder, casual, comfortable, the kind of touch that spoke of intimacy and familiarity. His fingers lingered there as he leaned in close to show her something on a piece of paper, their heads bent together in a way that suggested this was routine.
The black reaper's hands clenched into fists, his kagune threatening to manifest from the sheer force of emotion he was struggling to contain. Nishiki. Of all people, Nishiki.
He watched them for several more minutes, cataloging every casual touch, every shared smile, every moment of easy companionship. When Nishiki's hand moved from Touka's shoulder to the small of her back as he guided her toward the front door, something cold and sharp twisted in the black reaper's chest.
Close. They were close in ways that spoke of something beyond friendship or simple coworker familiarity.
The observation should have been filed away as irrelevant intelligence, a footnote in his broader understanding of the current state of former associates. Personal relationships were not his concern. Romantic entanglements were weaknesses that belonged to the person he used to be.
But as he watched Nishiki lock up the café while Touka waited, as he saw the way they walked together down the street before Nishiki finally departed with a wave, the black reaper made a decision.
He moved across the rooftops with predatory movements, dropping down to street level in a shadowed alley near Re. He watched as Touka realized she had left something back at Re and returned to the café. He followed.
Alone now, keys in hand as she approached the café's entrance.
The black reaper stepped out of the shadows.
"Kirishima."
She spun around, more than ready to face whoever had sneaked up on her. But she froze when she saw him, her eyes widening in shock.
"Kaneki?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Sasaki." He fell back onto his old moniker to create distance. His voice was cold and emotionless, the voice of the black reaper rather than the boy she'd once known. "But you can call me that if it makes this easier."
"What are you doing here?" She'd recovered from her initial shock, her expression hardening into something guarded. "It's been months since you..." The words remained on the tip of her tongue. Since you became you, again... he knew that was what she wanted to say. But he wasn’t the old him, not really.
He was something, someone much worse.
With a bone deep sigh, she unlocks Re and motions for him to join her inside.
The moment he’s inside he steps closer, and he sees her tense. "I saw you with Nishio."
Something flickered in her eyes. "So?"
"So you seemed very... comfortable with each other." He kept his tone casual, detached, as if he were commenting on the weather rather than something that was eating him alive from the inside.
Touka's jaw tightened. "Have you been watching me?"
"I've been watching Re," he corrected smoothly. "You just happen to work there." The lie came easily from his mouth. "But I couldn't help but notice how close you two have become. Are you together? You and Nishio?"
"That's none of your business."
"I'm curious." He tilted his head, studying her with the same cold calculation he used for everything else. “It would make sense if you were.”
"Stop it." Her voice had an edge now, anger mixing with something else. Hurt, maybe. "Just stop talking."
"Stop talking about your relationship with Nishio?" The black reaper took another step forward, close enough now to see the way her hands shook slightly from barely controlled anger. Good to know her fierce temper was still well alive. "Why? Is it supposed to be a secret? Are you ashamed of it?"
"There is no relationship!" The words burst out of her, sharp and fierce. "Nishiki is my friend. That's all he's ever been. He's been there for me when you weren't, when you decided to walk away and play hero, when you disappeared without a word again!"
Kaneki absorbed this information with no visible reaction, though something inside him, something he refused to acknowledge, eased slightly at her denial. "I see. So you're not fucking him?"
Touka's hand moved before he could react, the slap connecting with his cheek with enough force to snap his head to the side. For a moment, he stood there frozen as Touka trembled with rage, the sound of the impact echoing in the quiet room.
"How dare you," she said, her voice shaky. "How dare you show up here after all this time and... and accuse me of... What gives you the right, Kaneki?"
The black reaper straightened, his hand moving to touch his stinging cheek. He could see the hurt in her eyes now, raw and undisguised, and part of him, the part that was still Ken Kaneki, wanted to reach out and apologize. To explain that the jealousy eating him alive had made him cruel and irrational.
But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
"You're right," he said, his coldly. "It shouldn't matter to me. And it doesn’t. Do what you want with your life, Kirishima. Sleep with Nishio if that's what makes you happy. Sleep with a hundred men. It's none of my concern."
He saw the hurt deepen in her eyes, saw the way she flinched as if he'd struck her in turn. Good. This was what he needed to do, push her away, make her hate him, ensure that when he died, she wouldn't waste a single tear on his memory.
"You don't care." It wasn't a question. Her voice had gone flat, empty. Her anger gone, replaced by defeat and something so much worse. "You come here you say horrible things and you don't even care."
"I don't care," he confirmed, the lie tasting like poison on his tongue. "I was simply curious. But you've answered my question, so there's nothing more to discuss."
"Get out." Her voice was quiet now, but there was steel in it. "Get the hell out of my café, Kaneki."
"Already leaving, Kirishima." He turned away from her, his black coat swirling around him.
The black reaper didn't look back. He couldn't afford to. If he looked back, if he saw her crying because of him, the carefully constructed walls might begin crumble, and he couldn't allow that.
So he walked away, his footsteps echoing in the empty street, and he told himself he'd done the right thing. She would hate him now, would move on with her life, would find someone better suited to give her the happiness she deserved. Maybe Nishiki.
It didn't matter that leaving her standing there, hurt and confused, felt like tearing out his own heart.
It didn't matter that her words echoed in his mind: "He's been there for me when you weren't."
It didn't matter that he'd seen the truth in her eyes when she'd denied being with Nishiki, had seen that she'd been faithful to a memory of someone who no longer existed.
None of it mattered because he was the different now, and he served a purpose larger than personal desires.
He had a death wish anyway. By the time Touka recovered from this encounter, he would likely be dead.
As he made his way back to the rooftops, as he put distance between himself and the Re, he repeated his mantra: She doesn't matter. Nothing matters.
She doesn't matter, he told himself. Nothing matters.
But deep down, in the place where his old self still lived despite all his efforts to bury him, he knew that she mattered more than anything else in the world.
Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing.
If he repeated it enough, maybe all of him would believe it.