;make sure to disappear that you don't erase me

Send me a symbol…

“You hate me”

“You comforted me”

“You wanted me?”

“You left me”

“You chose me”

“You kissed me”

“You held me”

“You love me?”

“You loved me”

“You hurt me”

“You broke me”

It blurted out from him, interrupting and blunt. There was nothing in this world Kaneki could offer him to replace what he had already lost. Matsumae, Kanae, Mairo… There were names he would never know from his lack of involvement with the various businesses that had essentially helped his very existence, aided in maintaining his survival until the very end. It was debt he could never repay. 

Being scolded by Kaneki only rubbed salt into the wound. 

Stupid was not an adjective Tsukiyama wanted to hear from the other when his situation was far different from his own. An investigator was free to roam willingly, praised for his accomplishment of slaughtering an entire family to the brink of extinction. His kill count was measured in trophies and promotions. He silently wondered if Kaneki received an award for his accomplishments, if he received a benefit from his misfortune. 

Karma was cruel in this sense. Tsukiyama’s past transgressions with Kaneki may have led him to this. His selfishness and pestering need to claim whatever his hands touched. Perhaps it was his own fault, but no one should have had to pay the price for his mistakes. Unfair.

A flicker of bitter disdain crossed his features, disbelieving the words spewed from Kaneki’s mouth. 

“Did you want an award for allowing me to live?” As if anyone could call it truly living, but he refrained from uttering such thoughts. “Next time won’t happen. I can’t… This – My life after this does not include waiting.” Not for him. A thin hand pushed at the grip still around his arm, forcibly removing it from him. The last thing he ever wanted was to have Kaneki’s touch upon him. The same hands that had indirectly destroyed people he held dear.  

At least not now… Some things would not be forgotten, forgiven. 

     “I didn’t lead them to you. I don’t expect you to trust me.”

     Fingers clenched and teeth worked at the soft, fragile skin of his cheek. Kaneki could taste iron but that didn’t stop him. Not even when it coated his entire mouth, and certainly not when he continued speaking, regardless of whether they were words he’d regret uttering in the first place. “After you tried to stop me I ran into Arima Kishou in the underground. For all my real rights, I may as well be in Cochlea. There is no difference. I’m a living quinque. I didn’t know better before because I got stabbed in the head. Twice. I should be dead. I should have listened.”

     A sharp, uneven breath follows those words, and slate grey eyes disappear behind his eyelids. “I wish I were. I got a promotion for my fight with you, yes. Mostly because I almost took out the Owl. I didn’t want the promotion, but if I said that...” Lower standing would make the changes he’s attempting to make in the world impossible, and he may be punished for it. Others may be punished for it. “That doesn’t justify any of it. I hurt you. The CCG hurt you. Pretending I don’t care about that is...”

     He’s having trouble breathing, and his vision is flickering as a headache starts setting in. Fingers move to pinch the bridge of his nose, as if that might fix it -- chase away the pain. Admitting he cares hurts. “There’s nothing else I can do but tell you to go away. I don’t want to have to hurt you. Not again. If your life doesn’t include waiting, then get away. I don’t want another promotion because I killed you or anyone else.”

|| @sphaeria - the way you said, “I love you” - still accepting !! 

32. ‘in a way I can’t return’ 

Familiarity followed his silhouette in the way he walked away from him, repeating a scene that haunted Tsukiyama every moment he closed his eyes. It was always the same. His voice cracked in an attempt to bring him back, to call out to the only person to have been both a remedy and his ultimate demise. He screamed until his throat went hoarse, raw and sore from envisioning a figure coming toward him, only to disappear when his arms extended, desperate for any contact.

“Kaneki-kun, please…”  Barely a rasp, breathless and choking on sobs that shook his entire body. Tsukiyama knew he was alone in his bedroom much as he often was. The servants could probably hear him; a regular occurrence that had become a daily part of everyone’s lives. It was hard for anyone to intervene in his mental state. It wasn’t as if he wanted them to in the first place. Existing in this fading world was a task all on its own that left him tired, almost wishing for the inevitable end. 

Fingers dug deep into the edge of mattress, clinging him to the side of the bed in hopes this vision would falter and change his mind, return to him… “Kaneki, what can I do to make you stay? I’ll give you anything, anything you want.” Bargaining with the image never worked. Tsukiyama should have learned from the multiple times he had tried. There was no object, trinket, or gift he could ever give to Kaneki. In the past, giving all he could was never enough. Tsukiyama was a man built on worldly possessions. Some things did not come packaged in pretty bow or don an expensive price tag, some things he did not know how to give. 

“Please, please… D-Don’t – Don’t go!” Polite asking turned into pleading, teetering over the brink of begging. All Tsukiyama could do was watch and wait until Kaneki’s image disappeared, faded into nothing. He should ignore it for his own health, but desperation made people resort to crazy antics. “Kaneki, can we go back? I want…” There were several things he wanted, things wealth could never buy. Kaneki was one of them. His time, company, affection. He… 

“I love you…”   

Some fluffy, some angsty prompts

As a hello

With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

A scream

Over a cup of tea

Over a beer bottle

On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

As a thank you

As an apology

When baking chocolate chip cookies

Not said to me

With a shuddering gasp

When we lay together on the fresh spring grass

In a letter

A whisper in the ear

Loud, so everyone can hear

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

When the broken grass litters the floor

From very far away

With no space left between us

As we huddle together, the storm raging outside

Over your shoulder

Muffled, from the other side of the door

Through a song

Without really meaning it

In a blissful sigh as you fall asleep

Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave

A taunt, with one eyebrow raised and a grin bubbling at your lips

When I am dead

Slowly, the words dripping from your tongue like honey

Too quick, mumbled into your scarf

In awe, the first time you realised it

In a way I can’t return

On a post-it note

Before we jump