Ken Kaneki.
Kaneki didn't sleep a wink that night, his brain was too busy twisting itself up, trying to figure out the consequences of his decision and whether he stood a chance at surviving the coming weeks. Shinohara, for his part, seemed to fall into unconsciousness at some point in the early hours of the morning, his eyes drifting shut and his breaths slowing to an even rhythm. Kaneki let the man sleep, he had seemed exhausted throughout the half day they had spent in one another's company, and it wasn't as if Kaneki was actually planning to do anything. The teen lay in silent thought for a few more hours, glancing occasionally at his clock. 2:00 AM, 2:15 AM, 2:45 AM. The night stretched on for what felt like forever.
At 5:40 AM, Kaneki gave up, rising from his bed and standing. Immediately, Shinohara's eyes snapped open. The older man gazed across at him with a look of curiosity on his face. Kaneki was too emotionally spent to be surprised. "Want some breakfast?" He asked. Shinohara nodded quietly.
Ken moved to his small apartment kitchen and began rummaging through his fridge for ingredients, trying to ignore the pang of regret gnawing at him at the realization that he'd probably never need to buy eggs again. Shinohara quietly sat himself down at the small dining table as Kaneki began to cook.
After a few silent minutes, Ken placed the food down in front of the investigator and sat opposite him as he ate. He himself nursed a coffee between his hands, more to stop himself fidgeting than anything else.
"Huh," murmured Shinohara after a few bites. "This is pretty good, kid. I wouldn't have pegged you for someone who could cook."
Kaneki chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, for all the good it does me now."
"I think that might be the wrong attitude to take," Shinohara said with a small smile. "You can still make food that other people enjoy. That's a useful skill to have, Kaneki."
Kaneki considered this for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose so, sir."
Shinohara winced slightly. "Please don't call me sir, it makes me feel old."
Ken chuckled slightly. "Sorry to break this to you, Mr Shinohara, but the phrase 'please don't call me sir,' makes you seem old, second only to 'Oh no, Mr Shinohara's my dad, you can call me…' uh…"
"Yukinori," the older man supplied, grinning. "And you do not get to call me Yuki, so don't even try it, kid."
Kaneki snickered a little, standing to take the now cleaned plate to the sink. "But it suits you perfectly though."
Mr Shinohara rolled his eyes, draining his coffee cup as he stood, picking up his attaché case with his free hand. "Yeah yeah, whatever, kid. Come on, I want to ask a few questions at that café you mentioned, the one where you said you met Rize. Since you're under observation for the immediate future, I think that means you're tagging along."
Ken nodded, shrugging. It wasn't exactly unexpected that they'd want to keep an eye on him. All things considered, he counted himself lucky that he'd wound up with someone like Shinohara for the moment. He was rather beginning to like the older man.
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The two set off in a surprisingly comfortable silence, walking together through the busy early morning foot traffic.
It did not escape Kaneki's attention as they moved through the bustling crowd, that Mr Shinohara seemed to shift in front of him just slightly, positioning himself between the boy and the greatest concentrations of people. Kaneki wondered whether he should be offended by that. He couldn't really blame the man for it, the precaution made too much sense. Sensible or not, the precaution was unnecessary. Kaneki was, admittedly, more than a little hungry, having last eaten, or rather, drank, about sixteen hours ago. But it wasn't nearly intense enough to be an issue. A hundred little factors helped with that, chief among them being the fact that he could barely smell anything. In fear of much the same problem that Yukinori now seemed to be, Kaneki had decided on the temporary solution of applying a fairly hefty dose of aftershave to the skin beneath his nose. The powerful, mildly alcoholic scent was keeping most of the other smells at bay, at least for now.
The two made their way to the coffee shop in good time, Mr Shinohara using his sizeable frame to carve them both a path through the morning crowds before they found their way there. Anteiku was a pleasant sight, even early in the morning.
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Touka.
Touka was serving tables for the first round of customers when she noticed the two figures approach, her eye momentarily drawn by a small flash through the window. The two seemed ordinary enough, one middle aged, one just a little older than her, vaguely familiar. Her attention quickly returned to her surroundings, before flashing back to the two men once more, a little niggle in her mind pulling her focus back. It was on the second glance that she saw it, glimpsed momentarily between the bustle of people around them. The older man was carrying a metal case.
Touka felt her fingers clench impulsively, the clipboard creaking a little in her grip. She regained control of herself quickly enough, moving to the staff door immediately. Koma, working the counter, shot her a glance as she moved past, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. His unspoken question was answered by a brief hand gesture from the girl, unnoticed by anyone who didn't recognize the code. 'Doves outside.' Koma nodded, his expression not shifting an inch from that same calm smile he always wore.
Leaving Koma to hold down the fort for a moment, Touka went to find Yoshimura. He was usually roasting fresh coffee beans at this hour, readying his next batch for the day. Touka found him in the kitchen, a serene smile on his face as he watched the oven tick over.
"Yes, Touka?" The old man asked quietly, not turning away from his task. "What is it?"
"I think we have doves outside," the girl replied, her own voice one of forced calm.
The old man gave a slow nod, his smile dropping to one of calm focus. "I see. Watch the beans for me will you, Touka? I'll go and handle the investigators." Yoshimura straightened up, and began making his way slowly to the café, resting a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder as he passed. "We'll be fine, young one, don't you worry." Touka hesitated, but eventually nodded as Yoshimura moved past her. He was right, everything was going to be fine… probably.
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Yukinori Shinohara.
"Good morning, gentlemen, may I take your order?" The elderly waiter smiled politely to the two as he offered them the menu from under his arm.
"Two coffees, please," Yukinori replied immediately, taking the menu without looking at it. "Black, no sugar. And a sandwich, to take with me, if you can."
The old man nodded slowly, a small smile touching his face. "I'm sure we can find a box to put it in, certainly."
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Yukinori nodded his thanks. "That would be appreciated, thank you. I would also like to speak to the manager of this place. There are some questions I need to ask him." He ruffled in his pocket for a moment, before pulling out a small, leather article and flipping it open, flashing his badge.
The old man cocked an eyebrow at the badge, then glanced over his shoulder for a moment, looking over the crowded shop. "Well, I'm the manager here, and I can certainly speak with you both, but would you mind waiting a moment while we deal with the morning rush. It shouldn't be too long."
Yukinori shrugged amicably, sitting back a little in his chair. "That shouldn't be a problem. Thank you."
As the old man left, Yukinori glanced across at Kaneki, staring listlessly out of the window, and aimed a small prod at his back. The boy jerked to alertness as if shocked by an electrical current. Yukinori repressed a laugh. "Nice place here," he said conversationally, making a sweeping sort of gesture with one hand that seemed to encompass the entirety of the small café.
"Yeah," Kaneki replied quietly. "The coffee's great, but my feelings on it are kinda bittersweet after the whole 'targeted by a cannibal' thing."
Yukinori chuckled. "You'd be amazed what can be forgiven if a place serves good coffee."
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Yoshimura.
Yoshimura's mind was racing as he stepped back towards the counter. Everything about the two new arrivals was off. The taller man was an investigator, no doubts there. Even if everything from the case he had by his feet, to his posture hadn't pointed to his status, Yukinori recognized him. It was one of the doves he had fought years ago, in his attack against the CCG.
As for the boy, his presence here was a whole other level of confusing. Yoshimura had kept an eye on Rize's activities with his customers, and was quite certain she had chosen that boy as her latest target. Yoshimura watched the news enough to know that there had been some kind of accident, some poorly placed construction equipment had killed the unfortunate girl, presumably before she had a chance to kill the boy. That was an easy enough deduction to make, but the news had said the Kaneki boy had been badly injured, and yet he seemed now to be completely unharmed, less than three days later. None of this was even close to being as confusing as the fact that the boy, who, on his last visit, had borne the unmistakeable scent of a human, now smelled quite distinctively like a ghoul. Not just a ghoul, though, the boy smelled almost… female. Yoshimura pondered his questions furiously in his head as he served, working his way slowly through the morning rush. After twenty minutes or so, the place began to clear. Yoshimura took the time to pour a trio of fresh cups of coffee, before he once more made his way over to the small table where the unfathomable pair sat.
"Thank you for your patience, gentlemen," he said quietly, drawing the two from their quiet conversation. "Now then, what can this old man help you with?" Yoshimura set the three cups down on the table, removing the ones the pair had emptied while they waited. He set the empty cups to one side, and sat down opposite the two of them.
The investigator nodded appreciatively at the fresh drink, to which Yoshimura had to suppress a chuckle. Like all good investigators, this man liked his coffee. "Thank you for making the time," the investigator murmured. "My name is investigator Shinohara. We had a question or two about one of your former customers here, a young woman named Rize Kamishiro. I'm afraid it has come to our attention that she may have been using this establishment as a location to target young men for acts of cannibalism."
'Stranger and stranger,' Yoshimura thought to himself. So they knew Rize was a ghoul, but the boy was nonetheless alive. There was something he was missing here, what was it? Outwardly, he responded with a quirked eyebrow and an otherwise neutral expression. "Is that so? Considering it's the CCG come calling, I must assume she was a ghoul, then."
The investigator nodded, picking up his coffee and taking a long sip. "Yes, I'm afraid so," he answered. "I was hoping you could tell me what you recall of her activities on her visits here. Any descriptions of people she left with would be helpful. It could help us cross off some unsolved cases and such."
Yoshimura did not answer immediately, watching the odd smelling boy as he reached for his coffee cup. Yoshimura had chosen that cup especially. It had been badly chipped the previous day, the small porcelain handle missing a sizeable section of its material in a section that was surprisingly hard to spot unless one looked carefully. If the kid was a ghoul, Yoshimura reasoned, he wouldn't cut himself on it. The boy grasped the handle between his fingers and made to lift the cup to his lips, before letting out a small noise of pain as his finger scraped against the jagged porcelain, a thin line of blood trickling gently down his hand. Yoshimura let his expression shift to a concerned frown, keeping his confusion carefully in check. He reached into his pocket and produced a small handkerchief, offering it to the boy. "Oh dear," he murmured. "Another broken cup." Interestingly, Yoshimura noted, he wasn't the only one surprised that the boy could bleed. The investigator spared the injury a puzzled glance before returning his attention to Yoshimura. The boy, on the other hand, was staring at the wound as Yoshimura pressed the handkerchief against it, his own expression undefinable. The old man filed away their reactions for further note, before returning his attention to the investigator. "Well, I can certainly tell you who I remember seeing her with, although I'm not entirely sure how much that will assist you. I last saw her leaving with this young fellow, if I recall correctly, and he seems unharmed. For the most part at least." Yoshimura chuckled a little.
"Indeed," Shinohara replied. "Mr Kaneki here was lucky enough to survive his own encounter with Ms Kamishiro due to a singularly well timed industrial accident, that's how we came to know who she was. He may not have survived at all had it not been for the fact that the ghoul in question apparently enjoyed playing with her food."
Well, that was one question answered at least. Yoshimura felt the confusion inside himself lessen fractionally. That only left about a half dozen unanswered ones to go. The old man sighed. "I see. It saddens me very deeply that my shop was being used in such a fashion." He turned his attention to Kaneki momentarily. "Please accept my deepest apologies. Rest assured that Anteiku will provide you with free service from now on as a small token of our sorrow for what happened to you."
The dark haired boy nodded absently, still staring at his finger, the bloodflow now staunched by Yoshimura's handkerchief. "Thank you," he murmured, not seeming to pay him much attention. "Sounds good."
Yoshimura nodded, before turning his attention back to the investigator, and beginning to list Rize's victims as best he could.
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Later.
"Why did you help them?" Touka asked quietly, her voice irritable. "They're doves, aren't they?"
Yoshimura nodded. "The older one certainly was. One of the better ones, if I recall. As for why I helped them. It wasn't as though keeping quiet about what Rize did would have helped keep her safe. She's already dead. Those people's families deserve to know what happened to them. Besides, I consider it a good policy to cooperate with the CCG where possible, it draws far less of their attention down on us."
Touka folded her arms, glaring sullenly out of the window. "If you wanted to stop them paying attention to us, why did you offer that kid free service from now on? That's just more likely to make him come back, right?"
Yoshimura nodded again. "Yes, that was the general idea behind doing it. I wanted him to come back here again without the investigator so I could keep an eye on him, just in case."
Touka cocked an eyebrow at the older man. "Why are you so bothered about keeping an eye on that guy? He seems pretty boring, if you ask me."
Yoshimura let out a long, drawn out sigh, pulling a folded handkerchief from his pocket. "Tell me, Touka. What was that boy, a human or a ghoul?"
The confusion on the girl's face deepened. "What? I mean, he's human, obviously."
Yoshimura shook his head. "I'm not so sure about that."
"Why?"
"Well," the old man frowned slightly. "He seemed human enough before today. But when I served him this morning, he had the definite smell of a ghoul." Yoshimura watched as Touka opened her mouth to respond, hesitated, then closed it again, waiting to see where he was going with this. "And when I was talking to them, I arranged for him to cut his finger, to see if he could be injured like a human can. And while he certainly did bleed, the injury was healed over by the time they left, just a few minutes later." Yoshimura shook his head, his own confusion roiling in his head. "And then of course, there's this," he tossed the handkerchief across to the girl, who caught it, startled. "I used that to help staunch the cut for him. Give it a sniff."
Touka looked up at the old man with clear distaste. "Wow, old man, that's gross. You nursing some kind of fetish?" Yoshimura didn't respond, watching her impassively. Eventually the girl let out an irritable groan. "Uugh, fine!" She lifted the bloodstained fabric to her nose, and took a sniff. Immediately, Touka's eyes went wide. "H-holy crap. That's-"
"The most delicious blood you've ever smelled, I know," Yoshimura finished for her. "So tell me, Touka, Just what the hell is Ken Kaneki?"