Chapter Text
He dreamt one night that he was wandering in a labyrinth of Kaneki’s mind.
Although he often thought he heard Kaneki’s voice, and although he often spun around sure he would locate its owner, he remained alone. So he kept walking. There was only one way out, he remembered. Just one exit to the winding maze.
He woke up from the dream at its climax, when a primal roar broke through the dusty silence and robbed Hide of his ability to move forward. Ah, the minotaur. Cast suddenly into the darkness and silence of his room, Hide laid in bed deathly-still, his heart thumped in his ears. He had never put great stock in dreams—in fact he hardly remembered them, eager as he was in the morning to shake off his sleepiness and get moving. But now he found himself paralyzed. He wished the dream had gone on a little longer. Who was the monster here? Kaneki, or Arima?
When morning came, he tugged himself out of his covers and headed for the shower. He pushed thoughts of the labyrinth away. There was no way to move forward except to believe that as painful as this was, as not-ideal as this was, it was all to help Kaneki. To allow him to shake the monster that had taken up residence in the back of his head. But as Hide made his way to the CCG headquarters, the shadow of the minotaur stayed, and he could not, as much as he would have liked to, make out who or what it was.
“Hey, Kaneki!” He bounded over, made a show of ruffling Kaneki’s hair as a greeting. Kaneki lowered his head and blushed, but he smiled. Recently, the restraints over Kaneki’s hands had been removed. It was the small victories, even if his torso and ankles remained shackled.
“Hey, Hide. How’re you today?”
“You’re going to be real proud of me, man. Get this: I’m trying to read Takatsuki Sen—”
“You?! Really?”
“You don’t have to sound so surprised! Yeah, I thought we could talk about it. Well actually, I thought you could explain it to me.”
Kaneki hesitated and his smile dropped. “Which um—what are you reading?”
“Dear Kakfa.”
The smile returned. “I remember that one. It was the first I ever read.”
“I know, dude.” Hide paused, interested in this development. He had been careful with his selection, and he knew that Dear Kafka was probably the one only Kaneki remembered reading at this point. And yet he still remembered—albeit baselessly—that he loved the author. This was hopeful. Hide was counting on the fact that Kaneki would continue to perceive him as his best friend even as his memories of Hide were eaten away. His position, he hoped, would be safe so long as Kaneki remembered the fact of their friendship. This idea also tapped into a deeper hope of Hide’s—that Kaneki’s personality and self were not wholly tied to his memories and experiences. He would like to believe that whoever Kaneki would become would also like indecipherable books. He wanted what he had written in his report to Arima—Memories fade, but something remains—to be true.
He was trying to believe.
“What do you think so far?” Kaneki asked.
“Well, I have some questions. First of all: who is Kafka?”
Kaneki burst out laughing. It was enough to make Hide smile, which was saying a lot, considering Dr. Tanaka had just entered. It was a fierce disappointment, considering Hide had arrived early in hopes of spending more time with Kaneki. They nodded greetings—apparently the doctor wasn’t in the mood to bullshit—and the usual team of nurses began fluttering around Kaneki. Hide smiled a hello at Nurse Maiko—his only ally here.
“Before I explain Franz Kafka to you--" Kaneki's smile faltered. “Actually, before we start, I guess—I do have a favor to ask.”
“What is it?”
The nurses moved behind the glass. Kaneki opened one hand wide. “Draw a kanji, please. A difficult one.”
Hide paused. “You know more difficult kanji then I do.”
“Anything you know will be fine.”
Dr. Tanaka seemed almost ready. He thought quickly. He had begun reading Monochrome Rainbow at the same time as Dear Kafka, as it was difficult for books, in truth, to hold his interest. He remembered the last short story he had read—"Showers at Sunset." Taking Kaneki’s hand, he drew the kanji for cloudburst in measured, even strokes. He knew why Kaneki had asked.
The silence grew long. Hide forced a smile, even though he knew Kaneki wouldn’t be able to see it. “It’s probably harder, you know, to figure out a kanji just based on touch. Why don’t we try again when your eyes heal?”
Kaneki didn’t reply. He opened and closed his palm several times, mouth set in a hard, grim line.
“We really must start, Hideyoshi-kun,” Dr. Takada called across the room. Hide’s anger boiled. Address Kaneki, he wanted to say. Instead he nodded consent for the both of them.
“Oh, one more thing, before we begin,” Dr. Takada said. “I’ve received orders from higher-up to speed things along. We’re going to try two years today, Kaneki-kun.”
Well. He addressed Kaneki.
“Two…years?” Kaneki repeated.
Since the session in which Kaneki had recalled the incident with his Aunt, there had been another two sessions. Kaneki’s memories had dropped down to the first eleven-and-change years of his life.
“Afraid so,” the doctor said. He smiled and the machinery began to whir. Kaneki clutched at the bed sheets.
Hide waited as Kaneki’s mouth worked noiselessly, the shock of Dr. Tanaka’s announcement and the sudden torpedoing into the past evidently robbing Kaneki of his voice. He reached for one of Kaneki’s hands, but was startled by Kaneki quickly jerking his hand away. His arms settled across is torso, grasping tight as if trying to hold Kaneki’s guts in. Hide withdrew his arm. All this time he thought he had been comforting Kaneki, but was this what he had been wanting to do all along?
He slapped another smile on his face. Kaneki wouldn’t see it, of course, but he’d hear it in Hide’s voice.
“No…” Kaneki murmured. His entire body was tensing, closing in on itself. “No no no no no—“
“Kaneki,” Hide said. He reached out again, but, respecting Kaneki’s wishes, refrained from doing what he really wanted to do, which was pry his hands apart and force him to accept Hide’s comfort. He settled for rubbing Kaneki’s shoulder the way his mother used to rub his shoulder when he was upset. “I know, dude, it’s completely unfair, it’s inhumane, but please, it’ll be okay in the end, just stay with me, Bastard-Sensei is just getting started—“
“Hideyoshi-kun,” Dr. Tanaka said sharply, but Hide ignored him.
Kaneki shook his head, his breathing quickening to near hyperventilation. Hide said, “You have to calm down, man, you’re not breathing. With me, okay? In and out. Tell me what you’re seeing or don’t. It’s okay. Just breathe with me.”
Slowly, Kaneki’s breathing settling, and he released his arms. The hard line of his mouth loosened as he leaned his head back against his pillows. There was a long, terrible silence, and then Kaneki said:
“She made food for everyone but me. She finally stopped. It's just money.”
Hide released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He squeezed Kaneki’s shoulder and then let go. “Is that when we discovered Big Girl?”
“Yeah. You said we might as well celebrate being old enough to be given lunch money. Even though you were broke and I had to pay for you anyway. Later my Aunt yelled at me because I didn’t give her any change…”
He laughed a little. “I’m sorry, dude, but she didn’t deserve any.”
The corner of Kaneki’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. I didn’t mind. I was glad I had nothing to give her…”
The session moved forward. Hide relaxed a bit in his chair. He had thought for a second that Kaneki was going to have a panic attack or something. He was unsure how much comfort he could really provide. Now he did what he always did; he watched and listened and spoke when he needed to. Kaneki moved backwards through eleven to ten. They reached the one year mark, and kept going. Kaneki always collapsed at the end of a session, exhausted, drained, and Hide could tell the longer erasure was taking its toll on him. His breathing quickened again. His arms clasped. Around the bandages his skin was pale and clammy.
“Tanaka-Sensei,” Hide said. “Two years is too much. He’s not ready for that. Turn it off.”
The doctor paused at his machines, then swiftly stood up and came over to inspect Kaneki. He peered closely at his face, and then plucked a washcloth off the night table. He used it to wipe the sweat away from Kaneki’s forehead and cheeks, and then he dropped it in the trash and returned to his corner seat. “He’s fine,” Dr. Tanaka said. “Please focus on your work now, Hideyoshi-kun.”
Kaneki made a quiet wincing noise. “Do you feel okay?” Hide asked. “Are you going to faint?”
In a small, distant voice, Kaneki said, “I don’t want to live here. Mom…”
Oh. Right.
“It’s nothing like she said…it’s like….”
“….”
“…can’t remember…”
Kaneki started to cry.
“You’re not there,” Hide said gently. He tried to take Kaneki’s hand one more time. “This happened a long time ago, okay?”
Kaneki wrenched his hand away, and if the first time it had been with anxiety, this time it was with desperation, even anger. “I know where I am!”
Hide waited. He did not know where that was.
His friend continued to cry, his arms now wrapping around his shoulders. He thought he saw something dark behind the bandage covering Kaneki’s left eye—but no, that was impossible—
“You don’t understand, “ Kaneki said. “I’m losing her now, again, it’s the funeral, again, but it didn’t happen a long time ago. It’s happening and it’s going to keep happening. I’m going to forget. Mother, I’m going to forget you…how can I forget?!”
Without realizing it he had risen from his seat. Now Hide dropped back down, for once speechless as Kaneki continued to sob and gasp for breath. Not a panic attack, no. But he didn’t know how to provide comfort for this either.
“Mother,” Kaneki said again. “I don’t want to lose you…I don’t want to be the one being hurt…please don’t leave me…please don’t let me end up alone…”
Alone. The word was like an icicle pistoning itself into Hide’s chest. He couldn’t think for the coldness. He knew Kaneki. He knew him. All he ever wanted was to be loved and to not be alone. It was why, Hide knew, he had protected Anteiku so fiercely. It was also why Hide could not bring himself to be angry at Kaneki for distancing himself from Hide. He knew it must have been an enormously difficult thing for Kaneki to do. And what was Hide doing in return? He was going to be forced to leave Kaneki. He was abandoning him to the minotaur in the heart of the labyrinth.
He crawled into bed with Kaneki and held him as he sobbed. This time he did not push Hide away.
After the funeral Kaneki fell unconscious, although the full two years had not been completed. Doctor Tanaka sighed and flipped the machinery off. Hide continued to hold Kaneki, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. Kaneki had not so much been consoled as he had cried himself to sleep. He remembered what Kaneki had said—I don’t want to be the one being hurt. For some reason it struck a chord with Hide. What did that remind him of…?
The doctor strolled over and removed the crown of wires from Kaneki’s head. He tapped at Kaneki’s bandaged left eye.
“Did it light up at all?”
“What?” Hide whispered.
“His left eye finished regenerating,” Dr. Tanaka said. “But we’ve left his bandages on because he’s easier to control while blind. I was just wondering if his kakugan activated. I suppose you’d be able to see it through the bandages.”
“No,” Hide said. “I didn’t see anything. If he’s healed you should remove his bandages from that eye.”
“Dully noted, Hideyoshi-kun.” The doctor said it with a wide smile on his face. Hide’s stomach flipped. He knew then that he did not have to think about the dream anymore.
He knew who the real monsters were.