Chapter Text
Nagachika Hideyoshi had been prepared to dive into the sewers, feed his best friend on blood and guts, and never see him again. Sending him into battle with Arima—losing him a second time to the CCG’s erasure processes—this had all been part of the plan. The plan he had helped design with top ranking CCG officers.
He had not been prepared to be called in to the CCG Research Faculty.
He stood before Arima, his muscles poised and tense, his usual flashy smile plastered on his face. You could trust me, the smile said. I’ll do my best.
Of course it was unclear if Arima bought any of it. Although he prided himself on reading people, he had difficulty reading the Special Ranks investigator. He wouldn’t be surprised if Arima could read the resentment that boiled behind his smile, the fear that weighed on his chest like a stone when he tried to get up in the mornings.
“He’s still healing,” Arima said. “And he’s been pumped with RC suppressants. Nonetheless, every time he regains consciousness he becomes extremely distressed. We’re worried the emotional strain of the erasure process might exasperate his mental state. Aside from scaring the staff, this could prove a problem for Kaneki’s rehabilitation. We would like to start treating him as human as we can. Quickly.”
“How can I help?” Hide asked.
“We would like you to be present during his erasure sessions,” Arima explained. “You will keep him calm throughout the process.”
“Understood, Arima-san.”
Arima nodded. A dismissal. But Hide paused at the door, pulse thrumming in his ears.
“Does he know what’s going to happen?”
“He has been told. Whether he understands in the state he is in you will have to see for yourself."
That night, Hide waded through the sea of Kaneki’s possessions he had strewn around his living room, the stacks of books and mounds of clothing. All of the things he had rescued from Kaneki’s apartment, before it had been cleaned out and rented to an incoming University student. After everything he had been through, he did not know if he had the strength for this one last thing. He did not know if he could help Kaneki wade through his memories, only for them all to sink away, one by one.
He lay awake for a long time, watching his bedroom fan spin circles. Although the first session wasn’t scheduled for another two days, he had been allowed a visitation in the morning.
* * *
Security escorted him through the faculty to the highest clearest wing. He was given an access card that would allow him into Kaneki’s room. A flushed-face nurse warned him that Kaneki was having trouble holding consciousness for long periods of time, as they had been upping his dosage of RC suppressants as he healed. “If I’m successful in my job, can you reduce the dosage?” Hide asked. The nurse promised she would ask for permission, but she looked over Hide's shoulder as she said it. Hide would see to it himself that it was done.
The room was stark white. He wondered why anybody was surprised by Kaneki’s anxiety. The last time he had woken up in a hospital room, he had been stitched up with ghoul organs. The universe expected over and over again for Kaneki to just deal. That was where Hide came in, where Hide always came in. If he couldn’t carry the burden, he could at least lighten the load. But this—how in the hell was he supposed to lighten this?
Kaneki was strapped down to the bed by restraints at his ankles, wrists, and torso. Bandages were wound around the blank holes where his eyes were still regenerating. Although Kaneki’s eyes were gone and his body nearly immobile, Hide could still tell he was awake by the rapid inflations of his chest, the tight way he held his mouth and jaw. He strode across the room and sank into the chair next to Kaneki’s bedside. He took his hand.
“Hi—Hide?”
“Hey, buddy,” Hide said. “I’m here.”
Kaneki’s voice rose as he strained against his restraintments, clutched Hide’s hand hard. “Hide, I can’t see anything. I can’t see I can’t see they told me they’re going to take everything away—“
“You only can’t see because your eyes are still regenerating,” Hide said. “Hasn’t anyone told you that?”
“No.”
Anger thrummed in his chest, made his heart pound in his ears. He was supposed to trust Kaneki’s new life to these people?
“You’ll be able to see again, okay? Don’t worry about that now. Man, I can’t get over your hair. You beat me at my own game. You make my bleach job look weak.”
Kaneki’s mouth slipped into a smile that quickly contorted. “You knew. All this time. That I’m. I’m. I’m—“
“I told you,” Hide said. “Who cares about that?”
Kaneki made a strange gasping sound, and Hide said, “Please don’t cry without eyes, man. That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you, Hide.”
He frowned. Had to look away from his friend tearlessly crying in shackles and bandages. Don’t thank me. How can you thank me? You’re right. They’re going to take it away. They’re going to take everything away.
“Thank you…”
He snapped his eyes back to Kaneki. He was falling asleep again. Hide stayed until his breathing slowed down, and his muscles relaxed, and his grip on Hide’s hand finally loosened. He brushed some of the hair out of Kaneki’s face, lingered by his bed, tried to drink in everything—tried to see Kaneki while there was still a Kaneki to see.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, “ Hide said.
Outside the room, the hallway was surprisingly empty. He walked through silent underground tunnels of white; emerged to fog-drenched city streets. He opened an umbrella against the beginning drizzles of rain.
Tomorrow.