#touhidekane

“Don’t touch me.”

She pushes him away with enough force to bruise and he falls backward, landing hard on the ground. There are angry tears in her eyes as she brings a hand to her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” she says, backing away from him.

“Touka—”

But she’s gone, and he’s left, once again, to only memories and regrets.

Two months pass and in that time, Souta has begun to undermine Hide’s popularity. Now maintaining his control over the circus and especially on the tents he created the contents of, is becoming more and more of a curse that shackles him. He prides himself on his stamina however, and for the time being, he is able to match up to Souta in terms of power and wit.

He presses the champagne to his lips as he watches Souta speak jovially to a group of aerialists dressed in lace and feathers in varying shades of red and orange. They giggle at all his jokes and fan themselves almost constantly. He remembers what Marude said: I doubt they’d be so quick to flatter me if I weren’t giving them the gold they need for their dresses and face paint. As he eyes the aerialists and the way they gravitate toward Souta’s easy smile, he starts to truly understand and fear for the fate of the circus should Souta take control of it.

Hide feels his stomach turn at the thought and decides that he has had enough alcohol for the evening. As he searches for a tray to return his half-finished flute of champagne, he catches the eye of one particularly handsome man. He does not recognize him and though this fills him with suspicion, he feels drawn to this creature that looks more Renaissance sculpture than living, breathing man.

“Bonsoir,” the mysterious guest says, inclining his head to Hide with a slight smile that is more reminiscent of a smirk than anything else.

“Bonsoir to you as well,” Hide says. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

“Yes, how uncharacteristically rude of me,” the guest chuckles before extending his hand to Hide. “My name is Shuu. You must be the circus-master’s son, Hideyoshi.”

“Hide is alright.”

Shuu arches a perfect eyebrow. “Nickname?”

“They tend to stick easier to memory,” Hide says, a little breathlessly. It is getting harder and harder for him to remember what he is supposed to be doing. Shuu’s eyes, his face, and his body, if separate, are manageable, but altogether they suggest temptations beyond Hide’s wildest imagination. Perhaps it is the champagne in his blood, but he allows himself to be coaxed into lengthy flirtation and fleeting caresses that leave room for wanting.

Soon the night grows hot, and the antiques room is growing much too crowded for their liking. They slip away from the manor under the cover of darkness. A few guests wandering the garden call out to them, but are too drunk to remember their faces. Hide enjoys the freedom the nighttime cityscape offers. He and Shuu stumble through the labyrinthine streets, kissing and grasping at whatever they can touch of each other.

Hide loosens his collar and drops his black silk bowtie onto the cobblestones. Shuu’s fingers trace his bare collarbones and he shudders at the touch. Shuu murmurs something in French, and Hide exhales.

“What does that mean?”

Shuu’s eyes meet his  and the intensity within his gaze is enough to inflame Hide’s senses. “I said, I want to see all of you.”

Hide shivers at the words, and yet manages a snarky grin. “Well, what are you waiting for? Take me home, bel homme.”

Shuu’s lips cover his and he is lost, for a moment, in senseless wonder. “I hope you do not regret tempting me,” he says in between hungry kisses. “Shall we?”

They pause for air, and in amidst the sounds of their ragged breathing, Hide whispers, “Yes.”

Perhaps a month of similar meetings later, Hide stirs in the sheets and pushes himself up. Light streams in from the windows and he feels a familiar ache in his back and hips that reminds him of the previous night with embarrassing clarity. He squints through the morning sunlight and sees Shuu carrying a tray with two cups to bed. Hide catches the strong scent of coffee and accepts his cup from Shuu with a grateful nod.

“You’ve gotten rather tenacious in bed,” Shuu comments. “And you’ve learned to ride with more efficiency.”

The suddenness of it makes Hide choke on his coffee and he takes a moment to bend over and cough until the discomfort passes. Shuu rubs circles into his bare back, laughing.

“Are you usually this technical with everyone you sleep with?” Hide asks, feigning disgust.

“Only with the ones that improve the fastest.”

“Was the first time really so unsatisfactory,” he says flatly, to which Shuu laughs again and pats him on the head as one would to a child.

“Of course not.” Shuu drains his cup and gestures for Hide’s. He returns both cups to their tray and gets up from the bed a second time. Hide watches as he gathers up his clothes from the floor and tosses them into a basket to one corner of the room, presumably to wash later. He then goes to the bathroom to wash his face and shave. He does all of this with only his underwear on and Hide is treated to a long and satisfying exhibition of Shuu’s smooth, white legs.

“So,” Shuu says from the bathroom as he pulls his razor over his cream-slathered chin, “who is Ken?”

Hide’s head snaps up so fast that he feels a thunderclap of pain for a few seconds. He winces and waits for the tingling to subside but by then, Shuu has already answered his own question.

“I’ve met the young gymnast—Touka, was it?—and I’ve heard of your past relationship.”

He winces, again, at the word past. “Yes, she and I… We were lovers.”

“And this Ken person, I suppose, is the reason why you’ve been out of sorts enough to have sex with a man you just met?”

“He’s not the only reason,” Hide mutters, flushing.

“Oh, I’m certain he’s not. You murmur more than one name in your sleep you know.” Shuu pauses. “Hmm. It’s getting rather hot all of a sudden. I wonder if someone forgot to turn off their heater.” He looks over at Hide, who has bunched up the sheets around him. “Do you feel it?”

“A little,” Hide lies. The source of the heat does not feel the heat, of course.

“Just when I mention it, it’s cooler now,” Shuu says. “How strange.” He shrugs slightly and shaves off the last of his early morning stubble. He steps out of the bathroom and begins to rummage through his closet for clothes to wear. Hide, with one of the sheets wrapped around his naked body, takes Shuu’s previous spot in front of the mirror and splashes water on his face.

Later, when they are both dressed, they leave the flat and head for the direction of the circus grounds just outside of the city.

Before Shuu leaves, he says, “I believe this will be the last I see of you.”

Hide stares at him. “What? Why?”

“I can’t continue being your distraction, mon ami. It was pleasing… perhaps even good for a while… but I do think that I might be in danger of feelings that I do not have the means to fend off against.”

He feels his whole body going numb as he realizes that the distance that Shuu had put between them as they walked had been entirely intentional. “You’re saying that you’re afraid of falling in love with me. Why did you stay so long, then, if you were going to leave in the end anyway?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as bitter as it tastes in his mouth, but it does, and Shuu gives him what appears to be an irritatingly patronizing look.

“I am not the same as you,” Shuu tells him. “I can only have room for one person in my heart, whereas it would seem that you are capable of loving more than one or two.”

They gaze at each other for a long moment, and then Shuu reaches out to touch Hide’s cheek. Hide allows the caress, and he closes his eyes, trying to burn the feeling to memory, of a love that might have been, but never will be.

He watches Shuu leave, and turns to the circus backlit by the setting sun. He can see the lanterns being lit, and it is a simple matter to close his eyes and sense every peg, every rope, stage prop. He can see, without seeing, every person preparing for a night of performances. He can taste the food, smell the cooking popcorn, even from a mile away.

Somewhere within those tents is Touka, painting her cheeks for her performance. And somewhere, further away, in the direction of the sun, out in the sea, possibly asleep in his ship, is Ken. Thinking of them both is as painful as taking a hot blade and slowly pushing it into his gut. But he knows that he has only been weak thus far. He needs to make his decision which he has already put off for so long.

The question is, will either of them be willing to make room for Hide and each other in their hearts?

He hopes against hope that they will. It is his last thread to hold onto and if it snaps, then he has to give up on both of them completely.

As Hide approaches the gates of the circus, he sees a figure waiting for him. He squints and when he recognizes who it is, his heart plummets.

“You’re quite early today,” Souta says cheerily.

“They do say the early owl gets the mouse,” Hide replies with equal gaiety. “Just my own spin on the old saying, of course.”

“Of course,” Souta echoes and his unsuppressed glee begins to unnerve Hide. Simply standing so close to each other is charging the air, electrifying it and making the hair on Hide’s body stand on end.

“Any other reason you thought to greet me at the gates this evening?” Hide asks. A completely innocent question, he presumes, will derive the best results.

“Only to deliver a bit of advice.”

“Advice?”

Hide frowns as Souta leans in with a positively devious smile.

“I find that two lovers are more troublesome than one,” he says, breath hot against Hide’s ear, “especially when both of them love you, quite literally, till death do you part—”

Hide fists the collar of Souta’s dress shirt and violently jerks him forward, seething. “What did you do to them?” he snarls.

“Nothing at all, my good man,” Souta says, putting on a façade of innocent confusion and raising both hands as if that can cleanse him of fault. “As I’ve said, I’m only sharing a bit of advice, and you haven’t even let me finish.”

“Talk then,” Hide growls. “Or pact be damned, I’ll turn you to ash.”

Souta throws his head back, laughing. “Alright, alright, yes, my lonely little rabbit. I suggest taking the next train headed north, or the inquisition will be seeing two heads chopped off instead of only one.”

Horror curdles Hide’s blood and he lets Souta fall to the ground with his shirt disheveled and now covered in dirt. He takes a step back as he realizes that Souta’s plans have only just fallen into place. The reason why Ken had been in the circus that night, the reason why Ken hadn’t been recognized and taken custody of even once in all his time in the circus, and the reason now, why Ken had been arrested and put on death row, with Touka hurtling north to save him for Hide’s sake. If Hide leaves now, he will be forced to accede control to Souta.

He watches, with unbridled disgust and dread as Souta gets on his feet with a smile like he’s won, but in truth, he has never been playing the same game.

“Your choice, whore-son?” Souta asks with a sneer.

Hide curses, and the tempest inside him spills over into reality. Plants around him wither, turn into ice and fire. The air coagulates like blood and it all, for a moment stinks of rot.

“I will make sure you regret ever involving them in this,” he says, wrath lacing every word. “I will make you suffer ten times anything they have suffered because of you.”

Souta’s lips quirk upward into an eerie grin. “I’d like to see you try.”

Not that he’s unattractive; that’s beside the point. He’s a puppy-ish guy, a loud lanky ray of sunshine in contrast to Kaneki’s quieter, sun-peeking-from-clouds demeanor (fully-awake Touka would strangle half-asleep Touka for thinking such poetic sap). He had a crush on her once, a traitorous voice in her head whispers. Maybe he still does.

Well, if he does that’s his problem. She’s become his (close?) friend, and she would be sad if he chose to leave her life (where had that come from?), but she’s with Kaneki, and she’s happy with him. Ridiculously happy; she’ll never admit to herself how much.

As she gets closer and closer to sleep, her brain gets farther and farther from sense. A sleepover, she thinks, with her boyfriend and best friend. That’s all it is, and it’s totally normal, and why hasn’t it happened before now?

Because. It’s not a thing. That they do. (Mentally, she nods sagely.)

Then Hide’s arm falls across her waist and suddenly she’s more awake, but not thinking any clearer. Her awareness shrinks down to the band of warmth on her stomach, Hide’s fingers curling around her side. The room’s too dark to see if he’s asleep but his soft slow breaths near her ear are the answer.

She swallows, heart thrumming. This is… Not Good. Right?

To her left Kaneki snuffles and her heart may have actually stopped for a painful second. He cuddles up against her side and Hide’s hand is still there–

And Kaneki’s arm settles right below Hide’s.

Well. This could mean more than one thing. It definitely means she’ll need to talk to them both. But what if they don’t remember? What if you’re dreaming?

There’s no chance of them not remembering because they’re so deeply asleep that they won’t wake up until the morning; no time to creep out, hoping she slept through it. And she isn’t dreaming because she never has dreams like this.

It is now 2:30. She is overthinking the situation. The world will not, in fact, end if she allows herself to enjoy whatever this is. Warmth on all sides, surrounded by two people she cares for and who care for her.

Wanting it to continue beyond tonight? That might be apocalyptic. But she’ll worry about it in the morning, when she probably won’t be alone in feeling terribly awkward. And also actually find out what they’re thinking instead of freaking out disproportionately, the rational part of her brain says from somewhere far away.

Very slowly, she eases onto her side to face Kaneki. His arm ends up nestled between them, while Hide’s arm– Hide moves, settling against her back, hand slipping to her hip, his breath ticklish on her neck and oKAY not okay, she tenses at the tidal wave of want and is-he-awake panic racing through her. She buries her face in Kaneki’s hair, shuts her eyes and tries to just breathe.

Kaneki mumbles in his sleep, nudging into her chin, and she breathes.

Hide’s honest smile and gentle eyes fill her mind, and she breathes.

I am doing nothing wrong, she thinks, and she breathes.

She breathes, and falls asleep, and doesn’t dream of kissing Hide while Kaneki watches. Doesn’t dream about her lips on Kaneki’s cheek mirroring Hide’s. Doesn’t even dream about them standing a little too close to her back when they show her an arcade game’s controls.

Marude tries to stop him. Of course he does. It is the riskiest, and possibly the worst move to play. Two lives against the circus, which is, in and of itself, a core of magic strong enough to wreak havoc across continents. It is ludicrous, Marude says to him. And if Hide will just stop to think he might be able to see just how dangerous and idiotic his decision to leave is.

“I can’t leave them to die, Father,” Hide says, his voice fracturing ever so slightly under the weight of the choice he has made. “I’ve hurt and lied and betrayed them far enough.”

“But to risk the world for it?” Marude is angry, but most of his anger has passed by now and all that is left is the wild desperation to understand why his son is risking it all for lovers he can easily replace. “To risk everything we stand for, and die doing it? Hide, if you wanted to take a wife or a husband or even a mistress, I could send for dozens of suitors. Those two… They are not the only ones who long for your attentions.”

Hide breathes, slowly, and chooses his next words with care. “Father,” he says, “I know that this is not only about the circus and me. You’ve made decisions you regret too. And I know that not a day goes by that you don’t think of Uncle Chika. Losing him, you lost a part of yourself, and you know that you could have lost the circus that way. And now you are afraid I’ll make the same mistake.”

Marude says nothing, only searches in Hide’s eyes for an answer that he might never find.

“I have to go,” Hide continues. “I have to, because it’s only right. It’s the only decision that I won’t regret.”

A pause, half a dozen heartbeats, and a long drawn-out breath. Then Marude sighs. “Alright. You can go.” He stumbles back a step when Hide pounces on him for a hug.

“Thank you,” Hide says. He releases Marude and beams. “Put your trust in me and I’ll return, whole and well.”

“Go,” Marude says quietly, a faint sorrow in his eyes. “And be careful.”

“I will.” And with that, Hide takes his leave, placing the circus in Marude’s hands for the time being.

He takes the train north up to five platforms before getting off. He brings no luggage and has been wearing the same clothes for the past two days. His exhaustion makes his steps sluggish, but he draws upon anger and worry to fuel his drive. As the train pulls away behind him, he pulls his coat tighter around himself. The sharp wind chill is still something he is not used to, even after all these years. For a few seconds, as the breeze picks up suddenly, he regrets not pulling on an extra layer.

He enters a town with more field than house, and pauses to buy three loaves of bread at a tiny inn. He tears into them so quickly that the innkeeper’s wife pulls her husband aside and asks him if this half-starved boy paid for his bread. After his makeshift meal, he leaves the inn and hurries behind it before pulling out his lucky coin. The king smiles with a conspiratorial eyebrow waggle.

He hopes the bread will provide him with enough energy to survive the journey he has planned. Then, closing his eyes, he wills his body forward in space.

The world folds in on itself around him, as easily as paper. He is the last to go, and the sensation of his entire body and self flattening is never a pleasant one. His body folds like the rest  of the world did before him. It is impossible to breathe—his lungs are paper thin, and so are the rest of his limbs. He endures, holding his breath for an absurd amount of time.

Then everything unfolds. First his arms, then his legs, his body. Trees surround him on all sides, grass pokes into his trousers and tickle his ankles, and then the world is back, as if it had never vanished. Hide sucks in a breath, then two. There is a weakness in his legs, but it is not unfamiliar. He crouches, then sits for a while on the forest floor to catch his breath and regain his strength before attempting another jump.

This time he lands on his stomach, gasping for air. He flops onto his back and breathes. He throws an arm over his eyes and tries not to vomit. He fights the exhaustion and nausea, staggers onto his feet. Using a nearby wall for balance, he walks out of a narrow alleyway onto a dim, lamplit street. With trembling hands he reaches into his pocket for an extra load of bread he brought from home. He forces it down, and clamps his lips shut with his fingers to keep from throwing it back up.

He swallows the last of it, and exhales, half-relieved. The street is, fortunately, devoid of life. He makes his way through it, surrounded by that familiar scent of brine, except this is much colder and harsher than that of his home island.

Local gossip with a few men at a pub tell him all he needs to know: that he is at the right place, at the right time. The garrison he must find lies on a rocky outcropping extending beyond the sandy shoals that border the town on its west side. The pirate’s execution is scheduled for dawn the next day. But didn’t they hear, one of the men adds, there’d been a break-in and a woman had been caught and tried for being the pirate’s accomplice. She’s probably his personal whore, they all agree, much to Hide’s concealed chagrin.

He makes for the garrison.

From a hundred feet away, he can already see the patrols at the gate. He wonders, for a moment, what to do. Then in a brief stroke of genius, he runs his hands over his long overcoat, and watches its threads alter in shape and color. He pulls the new hood over his head and walks as confidently as he can, right up to the gates. His heart pounds in his ears as the guards regard him.

“State your business, Father,” says the guard on the left.

“I’ve come to offer the sacrament of reconciliation to the souls on death row,” Hide says calmly.

“That’s rather unusual. Confessions are normally given right before execution.”

He swallows. “The parish priest wished me to come earlier. For the poor woman’s sake.”

The guards exchange glances, for a heart-stopping moment they seem as if they are going to turn him in, but instead they unlock the gates and step aside for him to enter. He lets out a sigh of relief when the gates close behind him.

He continues down the hallway, which stops at a pair of staircases which go both up and down. He chooses the flight that descends. Another guard stands at the foot of the steps, but this one only nods at him respectfully. He moves on, worrying all the while if he is walking too fast or too slow. Then, finally, he reaches the dungeons. Another sigh escapes him.

A long line of barred doors extends before him.

“Father,” moans one of the prisoners, “Father, help me. Tell them I am innocent of my crimes.”

“Early for an emissary of death now, aren’t ye,” spits another.

“All of you shut up, I’m trying to sleep before I die tomorrow.”

Hide freezes.

“Yes, milady,” says a prisoner in mock deference.

He tries not to let his happiness and relief show when he goes to her cell.

Then Touka is there, lying amongst a scant pile of hay on the moldy stone floor. Her dress is torn and her hands and feet are wounded. She sits up when she sees him at her door. Ken appears at the door beside her. They both gape at him in disbelief as he reaches for their faces and whispers, “Thank God. Thank God, you’re both alright.”

And when they look at each other, they simply have to smile.

“Hide,” Ken says softly. “I didn’t think… I didn’t expect… you would come.”

Touka grins and even her bruised smiling face is so beautiful Hide wants to kiss it. “I told you he would,” she says, her eyes on Hide’s and filled with loving pride. “He’s an idiot like that. Which is why you and I love him.”

Both Hide and Ken blush and stutter, but Touka is the one who gets them back on track.

“We can talk more about this later,” she says. “We need to escape first.” She pauses. “And Kaneki, I don’t want you starting any more ruckus about how you ‘deserve’ this punishment. If you don’t come with us, I’ll personally drag you back.”

Ken sighs. “Yes, ma’am.”

Hide chuckles. “You’ve gotten used to her already?”

“It’s hard not to, when you’ve been stuck in the same cell for half a week.”

Touka elbows him and says, “Alright. What’s the plan?”