keiketsuso liked for a starter!
For a lack of social understanding so magnificent to exist in a man whose family and field of study were so... tangled with people and interaction, it was absurd. Unbelievable. Rather, Shuu had believed he quite understood personal relationships. A man cannot be friends with his food, but he can keep it as a pet. That’s how the humans are, no? The means used to obtain a meal do not matter so long as it tastes divine. Friends aren’t a matter much needed in the life of a predator.
Rather, what are those? How does one engage in such a thing, when the original intent was... well, less than holy. Impossible. Kaneki Ken had been a meal.
He’d lost his way, somewhere, in some terrible confusion. By the time he realized the intentions had shifted, that friendship chased away some emptiness in the deepest chambers of his thought to be nonexistent soul, it had been far too late. That person, whose well-seasoned, broken soul glistened through grey eyes had slipped into an abyss despite his prideless pleas on a desolate rooftop. Bedridden for such a terribly long time in the aftermath of a bewildering, yet painful loss.
He had not even the strength to scream over gentle melodies. Fingers had long-since ceased their practiced dance over monochrome keys. Had he been stronger, maybe the loss of someone he’d genuinely found himself fond of as a friend would not be necessary. He believes this to be true for such a terribly long time.
But he’s alive. Kaneki Ken exists in this world still, according to rumors flitting in the wind, and the squeaks of a little mouse. That person was no meal, but anything else has become fair game. An unfortunate turn of events, the loss of his once sophisticated palate in favor of the power to prevent it happening again. The moment word had reached him, sheets turned cold and became unused. Just perhaps if he can find him, he can keep him out of dangerous hands this time.
So long not eating and a voracious appetite have him shamelessly eating in the open, not bothering to stifle the screams of his cannibalized prey until it grates on tired, frazzled nerves enough to make him bite through a pale throat. Heavy footfalls entering the alleyway don’t feel nearly as concerning to his safety as they should.
He has a goal, after all. No one will get in his way, this time. He did promise, did he not?
“Would you please not go?”
Words unheeded, but all is not lost, so when he looks over at an all-too-familiar face before him, his half-finished meal is flung from his Koukaku’s blade with a sickening squelch, lips pulling into a smile that didn’t reach anywhere near his soul.
“Kaneki-kun?” Like a prayer unanswered, the tune changes, eyes partially disappearing behind half-fallen eyelids. “Rather, Sasaki Haise-kun... am I correct?”
tangentwithtanner
theartofmadeline
dailybridgerton
andulkaphoto
germansingergirl
dededos
snowghoul
