Chapter Text
Hide meets Kaneki during what looks like a bad time.
But Hide first sees Kaneki during orientation, and later in his Asian History class - pen pressed against his lip, eyes steadfast. They don't speak, though they do sit next to each other, and he doesn’t volunteer any of the answers to the professor’s questions, rather keeps track of them in his notebook, neat and compact. It's very relaxing - Hide’ll nestle his chin on the palm of his hand and track stroke after stroke, motions deliberate, a falter here and there, akin to the look Kaneki gives Hide out of the corner of his eye when he’s caught. It’s ridiculously cute.
It’s after the third glance over that Kaneki stops showing up to class. It’s weird and sudden (Hide doesn’t think that watching him write out his kana was that creepy; it’s just that Asian History is so boring and he’s so sleepy and Kaneki’s hands are pretty, delicate looking things, like he’d never lifted more than twenty pounds in his life) but then so is seeing him three weeks later working in Anteiku.
Hide’s sitting with Kimi when Kaneki walks downstairs, tying his apron behind his back with nimble fingers, doesn’t notice Hide but Hide certainly notices him, mouth snapping shut at the sight of the bags under his eyes, purple and bruised against pale skin. He heads for Touka, standing behind the counter across the way, and the two get to talking.
Hide had been going over something important, a change in CCG’s layout or other, but the past is the past and “What’s he doing working here?” seemed like a much more interesting conversation. Kimi laughs at him, covers it up with a sip of coffee. “Isn’t it obvious? I haven’t heard any of the specifics, if that’s what you’re after.”
“He’s in my Asian History class,” he leans forward, dips a finger into the whip cream topping his cappuccino and shoves it in his face.
“Wow, that’s pretty intense.”
The leaning continues. “No, you don’t understand. He’s in my Asian History class. Right next to me! I basically know him. This is totally a big deal!”
She picks up on it well enough, the look in her eyes gaining that connecting gleam, the proverbial light bulb. It isn’t so much a problem that he’s skipped a couple of weeks as it is Other Things. Working at Anteiku suggests a particular state of being, specific dietary requirements so to speak, and Hide’s been privy to none of it.
Akira is one to trust in her intuition totally, holds it up like a crutch, and though she wouldn’t fall without it, something fundamental would be missing in her logic. Hide’s intuition isn’t like that, but it’s dependable, the sort of thing forced into you, makes him and Kimi both sure that he would’ve noticed something.
Hide tries really hard not to stare at Kaneki. In lieu, he dips another finger into his whip cream and drags a dollop out, frothy where it began mixing into the cappuccino, off brown at the edges. Shoves it in his face.
There are two types. Constant wringing, unsure of the oils on their fingertips - if it had the power to poison the way their nails can pierce muscle, draw blood by ounces. Or a sense of brutality, strength written in their cuticles, peeled and red, in the whitening of knuckles holding that inclination towards violence, that trust in their power. Now, Kaneki’s hands, soft and pink tipped, don’t have the hardened look of those that have picked through guts - didn't, anyway, now trembling with the constant crowding of anxiety as they grip a washcloth tight and rub the edge against the rim of a cup, forced weightlessness.
Hide stares at his own hands, rough, tanned, old calluses texturing palms after years of handling different quinques. Being apart of the CCG makes him feel like there’s a constant film of blood present, RC-abundant, coating his fingers. It doesn’t show, washes away with a bit of soap, but it won’t -
“...Everyone’s wrong sometimes, right?” She presses her lips tight together, hums behind a closed mouth. “Though, I mean… I don’t know.”
Hide shrugs, lifts his cup and saucer off the manila folder he’d set it on, shoves the scattering of documents back inside. “Only one way to find out.” He twists around in his chair and throws his hand out, “Touka! I thought we were family! I can’t believe you haven’t introduced me to Kaneki yet!”
Kaneki drops the cup held light in his hand and it shatters against the counter top. Touka doesn’t have to hear it break to be mad at Hide, turning towards him the second he screams her name like how dare he distract her freshly procured child from the task at hand, how dare he. Kaneki’s paled even more, as if it were possible. Touka’s puffed, grabs onto Kaneki’s hand and drags him over to their table in the back, saying, “You’re lucky we’re empty, Nagachika, or I’d literally kick you through that window.”
“Whaaat - so mean, Touka, so mean~ Isn’t she the meanest, Kaneki?” Kaneki is too freaked out to nod his obvious approval. Poor kid.
“Why are you such a creep, Nagachika? Poor Kaneki, doesn’t even know you and here you are, creeping on him.”
“I’m wounded, Touka! You’re wounding me.”
Kimi grins at Kaneki in greeting, effectively shutting Hide and Touka up. “My name’s Nishino Kimi. I know we don’t really look like it, but Hide and I are regulars here and we welcome you to Anteiku.”
Hinting at the human-ghoul partnership existing within Anteiku, excellent. Kaneki doesn’t seem to get it, tilts his head to the side and blinks as Touka nods her approval. Hide continues, “We’ll probably meet a little more officially later? Ah, I’ve been so swamped with school and work I don’t even know if you’ve been here for a while or what. But, yeah, I’m Hideyoshi Nagachika! You can call me Hide. It’s nice to kinda meet you again, heh.”
And they do meet later, at closing time, with Kaneki standing awkwardly next to Touka by the table where Hide, Kimi, Irimi, and Koma have taken residence. Yoshimura sits too, at a separate table with Yomo, chair turned to face them.
Hide’s well established himself within Anteiku as a trusted source of information. He displays the documents with a flourish of the hand, pulling them out of the manila folder and fanning them across the table. To be fair, the information isn’t exactly new, more updates than anything else, but there are a couple of bits from varying wards about the latest ghoul activity and corresponding operatives to eliminate. Usefully before the fact - on ground action spreads easier through word of mouth within the ghoul population.
But maybe the most interesting thing is Kaneki’s stuttered hello. He stares straight forward and rolls his words like he’s not used to opening his mouth, refreshing and awkward just like everything else about him.
Hide sits back in his chair and smiles at him nice and wide.
Hide’s in the middle of shoving melon bread down a ghoul’s throat when he sees Kaneki again.
It’s probably not for the best. Kaneki looks like he’s been through hell and back, drool dripping down his chin as he flings himself around the corner, eyes wide, bloodshot. And there’s blood dripping down his hands, smeared across his hoodie, like he’s been digging his fingers a little too hard into his palms, cut and healing fast. Hide audibly groans as he brings two and two together, still grappling with the edges of the melon bread not yet in the ghoul’s mouth, pushing it up his sinuses.
There’s a wet hacking and Hide has enough time to consider himself the luckiest man on earth when the ghoul’s foot crunches into his side and he’s hitting the wall. He’s experienced this enough to be solid in a couple of minutes, but those minutes were precious and now the ghoul’s standing over him while Kaneki freaks out in the distance.
It’s basically a metaphor for Hide’s life.
He hasn’t regained his faculties enough to react when the ghoul spits what’s left of the melon bread in his mouth on Hide’s face. He’s gained back enough to retch when the ghoul shoves two fingers down his throat and vomits the rest, splashing against his cheek, soaking into his shirt. When he’s done, he turns towards Kaneki and gestures towards Hide like he’s a pretty little prize, covered in spit and bile and half eaten bread. “You wanna eat this shit? I’m feeling pretty gracious today.”
Kaneki doesn’t sputter like Hide wants him too, is too freaked out to register anything other than, wow, Hide smells delicious. He must smell delicious if Kaneki’s looking at him like that, all grey white black red red red -
Hide sits up and wants to scream, feels it crawling up his throat, smiles instead. The brick feels cool against his back, the ground damp with recent rain, and if he looks up he can see it, the clouds, passing overhead, and if he were anyone else he’d feel like death were imminent but he’s Hide and Hide is truly the luckiest man on earth.
“No?” He flashes his teeth, settles into a crouch, and the slick wet sound of kakuhou releasing RC cells into the atmosphere resonates throughout the alleyway. “Then get the fuck out of my territory.”
Of course, luck is in the eye of the beholder, and the beholder just happened to be a blue bikaku possessing asshole, red veins thick and pulsating through a forked form. He gathers the power in his legs and springs forward as the pain in Hide’s chest builds, rips through his lungs in a scream of Kaneki’s name. And Kaneki looks at him, eyes focusing, and he looks so heartbroken, Hide almost hates him.
But he throws up his arms just barely in time, stares at Hide as he twists the ghoul’s arm, stares until he can’t, until the flesh on the ghoul’s neck is pressed flush against his teeth and he’s tearing. The ghoul’s scream rings with disgust, his bikaku passing through Kaneki’s stomach easy, easy, and maybe it’s the force of it against his kakuhou that has him unfurling, deep red tentacles weaving out of his back in a flash, piecing themselves together midair. When the ghoul peels back to strike again, steady, Hide can see Kaneki pull himself back together, strings of flesh forming in the hole of his body.
He doesn’t have time for this.
Pouting, he forces himself to stand up. Because the CCG is on their way and he needs to leave and fix his head before it splits apart, leave with Kaneki, the Kaneki that’s tearing his way through the ghoul’s existence, stuttering hello and pink fingertips and all.
“Kaneki. That’s enough.” He walks towards them, a mess of blood and kagune fluids and gore. “Kaneki! We need to leave, like, stat.” Hide presses his hand against Kaneki’s shoulder, grasps tight, and Kaneki physically recoils, drops to his knees with his kagune still in the ghoul’s body. It’s over in a minute, really, and the ghoul’s unconscious but repairing himself, slowly. They can get away - he tells Kaneki this - they can just leave. He doesn’t look at the ghoul’s body as the kagune leave it with a squelch, reverts back into Kaneki’s back, soaks through his skin. Hide grins and tugs Kaneki up. They can leave.
“Lemme clean you up a little bit though.” Kaneki hasn’t quite yet registered anything. He’s easily moved - Hide grabs his hand and wipes off the blood with his shirt, rubs the fabric over limp digits, fleshy palms. He uses the inside of his jacket to get at Kaneki’s face, lips and cheeks and chin. It takes a while but his kakugan fades, black receding to white. “Thank you.” Hide pats Kaneki’s cheeks. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? Do you live close by?”
“Uhm, I - yes.” He takes a step back, tentative, as if he’s unsure of the weight of the ground under his feet. “It’s this way.”
And so they casually walk like Kaneki hadn’t just partially cannibalised a fellow ghoul and they weren’t covered in blood and puke and various other fluids, towards Kaneki’s apartment complex a good block away. It’s late, sky gone a dark blue, and the streets are quiet, still. They take the stairs up the complex without incident and Kaneki struggles with his door, rests his forehead against it as he wiggles his key this way and that. But they make it, and Hide closes the door behind them, leans back against it and heaves a sigh.
Kaneki heads towards his table, sits in a chair with a huff and the stiffness in his shoulders drains out. They slump forward until his cheek’s pressed against wood.
“Is it okay if I maybe borrow some clothes and take a shower?”
He doesn’t say anything, nods, brings his hands up until they’re cradling his face, light.
That’s fine. Hide looks around. It’s not a large apartment, nice sized living room conjoined with the dining and kitchen. The floor is littered with open containers, bread and spilt milk and the like. Just ahead is a hallway and Hide heads that way, tries not to glance at Kaneki as he passes by. The door to the bedroom is open, and if Hide was prone to snooping, as he is, he’d note the mess of it, desk thrown on the floor like nothing, papers and books strewn about.
He steps inside, flips over a book like it was his to touch - he doesn’t know the author but he’s at least heard of Kafka, Dear whatever. There’s a drawer against the far wall and he picks up a nice-sized shirt and some sweatpants, heads out to what he assumes to be the bathroom next door. He praises the lord there’s a towel and a washcloth already hanging off the rack, less work for him, and immediately shrugs off his jacket, disgusting, pulls off his shirt, hella rancid. The water’s turned on and his pants are off and the stream of it down his back is the most relaxing thing.
But his chest still hurts. Aches, like something’s crushing his body, thrums pain low through his torso. His fingers are shaking and he doesn’t know why, really doesn’t know why - it was routine until Kaneki showed up. He’s done it before, incapacitated ghouls, used their disgust for food to his advantage, and though this one wasn’t exactly weak, it was evident he had held off on eating until that moment. Coerced him into a corner like Hide hadn’t planned it out.
But seeing Kaneki threw him off. Is throwing him off.
And it makes him kind of mad? In a way he hasn’t felt before - frustrated, aching and twitching fingers, lost, reaching for something, for - what he didn’t know was missing until he saw Kaneki like that, like he couldn’t cry he was so far gone. Hide’s a mess, a true and total mess, ‘cause all of a sudden things matter and it doesn’t make sense why he would care at all.
It’s really not fine. He turns off the shower and dries off, steps out with an empty head, fuzzy around the edges, pulls on some clothes and heads to where Kaneki’s still sitting, head still cradled in his hands, palms digging into his eye sockets. He leans against the table opposite Kaneki, hair dripping droplets of water onto polished wood, says, “Are you still hungry?”
Kaneki’s head snaps up, eyes narrowed. It’s obvious his mind’s racing to a thousand different conclusion, Hide can see it in his face, before he settles on a dubious shake of the head. “No? I ate. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Because I don’t mind - “
“What are you going to do?” It sounds a little rude so he backtracks. “I mean, what would you ..? I’m really fine.“
“I’m not really sure yet? I think I’ll just sorta cut into my arm a little bit. Isn’t it the RC cells that ghouls need? You can suck my blood like a vampire.” He hisses for added effect.
"No. You're not going to do that. You're finished with showering, right? So you can leave now?"
“Au contraire!” So the plan is to dramatically walk towards the kitchen, guess the correct cupboard housing knives, and, whabam, cut a little into his upper forearm just deep enough to draw blood, but Kaneki has other plans. He watches Hide, all like ‘is he really,’ until Hide spots the knife holder next to the microwave, shoots a yahoo, and Kaneki bolts over because ‘yes this fucker is.’
Hide eeps when Kaneki grabs hold of his hand before it reaches a handle, pulls him back while Hide flails his other hand towards the stand, grazes it with his fingertips before Kaneki’s grabbed his arm, yanked it to Hide’s side, and pressed his back against the counter’s edge an arm’s width away from the area of interest.
Kaneki scrunches up his nose. “Stop it.”
Hide rolls his eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Why aren’t you eating your food?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Oh, but it definitely is. We have Asian History together!”
“You - You’re - ridiculous.”
"Anteiku gives you food, don't they? That stuff is okay to eat. Unless you want something a little more fresh - in which case," Hide bares his neck, "you could have some of me."
Kaneki stares at it for a second, skin stretched down to exposed collarbone, swallows, then holds Hide at a distance - distinct difference from the up, close, and personal of a bit ago. He shakes his head, grins all watery, “I’m not going to do that.” It’s more to himself than anything else.
Hide decides that Kaneki’s fucking weird. He got a hint of it with the one-eyed business, not fully absorbed but acknowledged as a thing that may not just be a trick of the light. Kaneki’s hungry - his grip too tight, sends Hide’s pulse thumping through his thumbs where they dig into his forearms, and his skin is clammy, like he’s sick, cold and shaking - but he won’t eat and Hide can feel his chest preparing to burst, lungs a size too big.
Hide smiles back. “I want you to.”
Kaneki loosens his left hand little by little, drags it up Hide’s arm until it snags on a sleeve, jumps to where his collar meets flesh, places his hand against it, fingers barely making contact. Something in the glint of his eyes shifts and Kaneki looks like a different person. “Please leave.”
“Please eat.”
Hide doesn’t particularly want to die. There’s something about Kaneki, however, that makes it seem like it’s not such a bad idea. Some weird self-sacrificial thing he must be on around the kid. That said, he’s not about to let some stranger bite into his neck like that. “Hey, hey, I was - it’s a little conspicuous, right?” He places his hand on Kaneki’s cheek as he’s prone to doing. “Consider the arm.”
“Oh,” Kaneki breathes, turns his face into Hide’s palm, presses his lips against the creases. He brings his hand back down, circles his fingers around his wrist, and it’s oddly intimate. Hide’s patient though, doesn’t exactly mind all the attention. “Why do you smell so good?” He kisses Hide’s inner wrist, parts his lips and licks a stripe and stifles a moan that has him several feet away in a flash, crouching on the floor, arms tight around legs pressed up against his chest.
“You’re making this really difficult.”
“Why are you like this? You and her - you’re both like this.”
Hide heads to the refrigerator, opens it with a woosh and grabs the only thing in it, a neatly wrapped brown package. At Anteiku he’s not allowed to witness the dismembering, sectioning off of victims, but he’s seen the packages be delivered, upstairs and out of public eye, can figure what they consist of. He closes the fridge, sits in front of Kaneki and starts unwrapping it - unties the string holding it together, unfolds the plastic-lined paper until a pile of nondescript flesh lay between the two.
“It’s alright to eat, man. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
“I am, I am - I can’t - ”
Hide tries really hard not to sigh but this is getting out of control. Instead he crawls behind Kaneki and sits, criss-cross applesauce, places his hands on Kaneki’s shoulders and tries to pull back so he’d sit in his lap. “What you really need is a little cuddle!” It takes a bit of time but Kaneki is needy and eventually settles down, stiff, until Hide wraps his arms around Kaneki’s waist, rests his forehead against the crook of his neck. “But you also need to eat,” Hide says and Kaneki expectedly shakes his head.
If Kaneki was weird, Hide was definitely weirder. He didn’t know what Kaneki’s deal was, had only heard about the notion of one-eyed ghouls prior, didn’t expect them to be this - this guilty over their dietary restrictions. And maybe Hide got it, could barely hold back the bile in his throat as he felt the weight of human meat in his hands, its heft, something of a betrayal to his species. But that’s what he does - back and forth between CCG and Anteiku like it was no one’s business, helping both, helping himself.
The smell of blood is heavy in the air and Hide isn’t sure if it’s the meat or Kaneki’s jacket. What a stupid situation.
There’s a part of him that’s really glad this is happening. Whatever this could be considered - brims with maybe not joy but some sort of wholeness that eases the pain in his chest. Hopefully Kaneki can feel it too. It seems like he does when he hums, squeezes his eyes shut, and reaches forward, tears off a small chunk of meat with shaking fingers while Hide holds tight, nuzzles his shoulder, whispers “It’s okay” over and over.