#Moments of levity to counterbalance the pathos | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ipsen · 8 months

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Read on AO3. Word Count: 3153 Summary: Kaneki has a specific image of himself on the beach. Chapter 10 Chapter 12 Master Post

When Kaneki imagined himself on the summer beach, it went something like this:

The salt on the wind. The tantalizing scent of sizzling meat. Pelts of laughter from the others. A book in his hand, and him peacefully turning the pages beneath an umbrella in a chair.

(He also imagined Takatsuki nearby with the same book. They would pause after every chapter or so and discuss their thoughts, both similar and different. Her ideas burned hot and angry, yet they could be comforting. His shifted like water, yet they could topple buildings. They would blend together into a steam that differentiated between none and became all.)

Or, perhaps, he would be drawing the scenery. The tide, calm or aggressive, lapping at the shore. The smoke from the grill curling into the air. Everyone’s smiling faces as they kicked up the sand with their feet. Stories always needed moments of levity to counterbalance and enhance the pathos. A vacation like this was perfect for ideas. Takatsuki had some lighter moments in her short stories, but she was surprisingly hands-off with him. She never said why, and he’d never tried asking. It was just how things were.

(He should’ve asked Chie for a camera. Oh well.)

Regardless, Kaneki was not sharing thoughts beneath a private umbrella by the shore, nor was he holding a sketchbook and rubbing graphite between his fingers— both things that he would much rather be doing. In reality, his book and his drawing materials were in a bag next to Miza and Takatsuki. He never thought he’d be jealous of his belongings, and to such a high degree, too.

Takatsuki had her hair pulled back into a messy bun. At this point, he was sure it was her favorite style besides having her hair down, given how easy it was to do and how often she did it. As for her swimsuit, she wore a black wetsuit with bright white sleeves underneath a T-shirt and shorts.

He allowed himself to stare for a moment. Even at the beach in the summer sun, she insisted on covering herself head to toe. And again, she never said why, and he never asked. At least this time, she was underneath an umbrella, helping Shiori build sandcastles with Miza.

Kaneki was not so fortunate. He had the privilege of being beneath the sun, no protection, and staring at Naki, Tatara, and Big Bin— all shirtless, all muscular (which would make for a good reference later)— through a network of net. A net-work, his unhelpful brain supplied.

Middle Bin, hands on his hips, sucked in a breath and said what Kaneki was honestly thinking. “I dunno about this, Ayato. I could probably take Naki, but my brother? And Tatara?”

Ayato glared. “You implying I’m not up to the task?”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just, well… Yeah, you’re strong, but let’s face facts: it’s Tatara. Tall, athletic, competitive. He’s the whole package.” He gestured to the man stretching his impressive biceps across large pecs. “I’m all for a friendly match, but a fair one, this is not.”

“Middle Bin.” Ayato folded his arms. “My sister’s the top fighter in her judo class. She has a winning ratio against everyone who's ever dared to fight her.”

Kaneki screwed his eyes shut.

“Her lowest ratio is against this guy.” Ayato jabbed a finger at Kaneki.

There it was. “I-It’s really not that big a deal.” Kaneki waved his hands in the air. “Besides, judo and volleyball are two completely different things—”

“You clowns ready to rumble?!” Naki shouted from the other side, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Nobody here actually plays volleyball, Tree Branch,” Ayato said hastily. “So it comes down to synergy and ability.”

“Sure,” Middle Bin said, “but c’mon. Look at them.”

If Kaneki didn’t know any better, Naki was a large kid on a sugar high. Big Bin stretched his legs (very impressive calves and thighs). Tatara rolled his shoulder, radiating competitive, though friendly, menace.

“Hey.” Ayato, also looking at the opposition, clamped a hand on Kaneki’s shoulder. “Take off your shirt too.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Take off. Your shirt. Too,” Ayato repeated. “We need to intimidate Naki.”

“What does me being shirtless have to do with—”

“Naki might not seem it, but he’s incredibly perceptive— when it comes to someone’s physical strength.” He hastily added the last part. “We need to give him a reason to be nervous. It’ll help us if he messes up early.”

“But that’s only once! Once they see me in action, it’ll fall apart!” Kaneki could already see himself with a face full of sand. Takatsuki might laugh at him. That might not be so bad, making her smile. He’d consider it if the team started losing badly.

Ayato rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’ll be fine. I believe in you or whatever. Just do it.”

“But—!” He inadvertently glanced toward Takatsuki, who was paging through a book. He wondered what book it was. “I, well, I—”

Ayato followed his gaze, saw Takatsuki, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. His voice lowered to a whisper. “You’re hopeless, dude, you know that? You and I both know she wants to see you shirtless.”

“No she does not,” Kaneki hissed back, even though he was curious to know if she did.

“You done yet?” Naki asked impatiently. “If you want Sasaki to take his shirt off, you gotta try harder than that!”

Kaneki saw Takatsuki, for the briefest of moments, flick her gaze up, before immediately going back to reading. Middle Bin approached him and Ayato, grinning. “I think you’ve got your answer, Sasaki,” he whispered. “Go on.”

With a resigned sigh, Kaneki, red as a tomato, discarded his shirt and took his position.

It was a normal body, he told himself. Just average, like anyone else. Sure, when he looked at himself in the mirror, he occasionally saw that scrawny boy again, with bruises across his arms and occasionally his chest, but those were days long gone, and they weren’t coming back. In place of bruises were toned muscles trained by himself and by Touka. With them, he would defend that scrawny boy. He would—

A sudden sputtering noise interrupted his train of thought. Everyone— everyone— turned to see Takatsuki choking on her drink.

“Sorry!” she coughed, waving them off. “Wrong pipe! Fuck—”

Shiono, manning the grill, immediately went over to check on her, while strangely enough, Miza burst out laughing.

Kaneki’s ego, meanwhile, roared from its pit, demanding to feed upon the swelling pride expanding across his mind and threatening to spill over, but he was vigilant. When its claws found purchase on the surface, he beat it back the way a hero slew their enemies. A protagonist of humility. Takatsuki had simply choked on her drink— correlation, not causation.

In public, he cleared his throat. “I-I’m ready!” he said, trying not to scratch where the sun tickled his bare chest.

“Alright,” Yumitsu called from a high chair, playing referee, “First to five points wins!”

“Ready to get crushed?!” Naki shouted.

“We’ll see about that…” Ayato grumbled, rolling his shoulders.

“Let’s have a clean match, guys!” Big Bin grinned.

Kaneki glanced between Ayato and Middle Bin, who looked excited to play. It was almost infectious, and the more he thought about it, the less he minded the idea of winning. It’d make for a good story to tell Hide.

He wondered if Takatsuki would be impressed if he won.

Alright, yeah.

She didn’t seem the type, but on the off chance she was, well—

Yeah. Let’s try to win.

It wouldn’t hurt.

Win…

—

“Left, left, left!”

“Okay, a bit more forward! Oh, back back back!!”

“S-Sasaki— Pffhahahaha!!— Wrong way, dude!”

Humiliation was not the right word to describe how Kaneki, stumbling dizzily about in a blindfold (with his shirt back on) for watermelon splitting, felt at the moment, but it would have to do.

Honestly, he should have expected the loss; Big Bin, Naki, and Tatara had far more synergy and experience with each other than he, Ayato, and Middle Bin did. It wasn’t a slaughterfest, but it wasn’t exactly close, either. There were a thousand ways he could have improved, but the benefit of hindsight was forever cursed to come after the fact.

“Go, go!”

“It’s right in front of you!!”

Oh, thank goodness. He swung down with all his might, and felt the bat sink into a fleshy material. A direct hit.

“Alright!” he heard Ayato shout. “A rematch, like you said, Naki! One-on-one if Tree Branch got a hit!”

“Woo!” came Naki’s response. “Let’s do it!”

Kaneki was just grateful he didn’t have to play again.

The beach didn’t last forever; the sky turned orange, people got tired, and the fireworks show was soon on the horizon. It would begin early in the evening, so any time in the hot springs was reserved for after.

On the large porch at the resort overlooking the city, a few tables and chairs were set up. Naki and Shiono had cooked up a huge feast for all to enjoy. Kaneki stood in the background, letting everyone take what they wanted before going for something himself. He wasn’t a very picky eater, anyway; sure, he had his favorites, but he’d make do with the leftovers. Besides, he technically wasn’t even supposed to be here. By that logic, any food for him should be leftovers.

Alas, a storm of energy with hair like grass beneath the sunrise had other plans. She was the first to grab two(?!) plates and fill them up, but instead of sitting down and getting started, she marched straight up to him and held one of them out.

“You look hungry,” Takatsuki commented. “Go on, take it.”

“Er…” He wasn’t sure how to respond. “I-I can get the food myself; you can—”

“Take it,” she repeated, more insistent this time. “Don’t tell me you’re turning down your favorites!”

He took a second look at the plate: a few corn cobs, some spears of asparagus, two slices of tomatoes, a glob of mashed potatoes, and a large slab of a familiar meat.

(It was just a little begging…)

Across their culinary adventures the past few months, he supposed he had gravitated towards similar things throughout. However, that wasn’t because he was picky; he just had never really been one for adventuring beyond his current palette, which was more than enough for a healthy diet.

He hadn’t realized that his… acquaintance in those adventures was actually looking at his plate while she sampled as much of the menu as she could in a single order.

Kaneki stared at it. “You…?”

“I am an author.” She shrugged. “Comes with the territory.”

It would be rude to turn her down after all the trouble. “Thank you…”

She smiled. “Enjoy the show, Haise.”

“Um, actually, I—” he began, but when he looked up, he saw her mane of hair disappear back indoors.

Before he could follow, someone bumped against his shoulder and stopped him.

“Sh-Shiono!” he stammered.

“Hey, Sasaki!” Shiono had a fresh plate of food and a drink. “Talk with me a bit?”

There was an unidentifiable edge to his voice that made Kaneki nervous, and as Shiono led him far, far away from the others (or as far from them as they could be on a porch, even if it was a large one), the feeling only worsened.

What could Shiono possibly want to talk about? All sorts of scenarios ran through Kaneki’s head. Was the script not up to par? Was his art just that disgusting to behold? Was he being interrogated for misconduct in the workplace? Ami never really liked him; had she filed a report? Had he overstepped his boundaries?! Was this vacation all just a ruse to let him down gently?! That was… kinda cruel, honestly, but at least he had a good meal to eat when—

“Are you in love with Sen, or am I misreading things?”

What.

What was once a growing fear turned into abject horror and embarrassment. Kaneki would rather get fired a thousand times over than hear that question. “W-Well, I— I don’t—” He scratched wildly at his face as it itched with heat. “I wouldn’t say— I-I mean, that is to say that I, um, well—”

Shiono laughed. “Sorry, sorry. I don’t mean to embarrass you, but it seems like the others’… efforts to get you two to say something isn’t working, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

‘Efforts’? “Efforts?”

His brow furrowed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. Your tickets to the play, the room arrangements— Ever since it came out that you were getting invited here, Miza and the Bins’ve been bending over backwards to get you alone and get either one of you to say something to the other.”

“But I don’t— I mean, she doesn’t even—” Kaneki sputtered. ‘Say something’? Really? And ruin all these months of hard work?

Shiono rolled his eyes. “Sasaki, I’m gonna be straight with you— Sen’s been head over heels for you for a while now.”

If Kaneki had had the stomach to eat during this conversation, he would have spit it out over the edge of the handrail.

“I’ve been raising the kiddo for thirteen years now.” The weight of that statement made even Shiono shiver slightly. “I know when she likes someone.”

Kaneki latched onto that first statement. “W-Wait a minute, you’re her—?”

“Father, more or less. Second adoptive one, to be more specific.” Shiono took a drink. “Her first one died, and she spent about a year in an orphanage before I entered the picture. As for her biological father, he’s alive, but, well… Yeah.”

Kaneki, relaxing, took a thoughtful bite of some meat, chewing to focus and digest the new information. Noroi Takatsuki had adopted Takatsuki, then died in the incident with Kasuka Mado. Takatsuki herself was involved with that event, but instead of having her record stained, she was sent to an orphanage, and Donato took the fall due to an unknown party.

“As you’ve probably figured, I met Sen when she was fifteen.” Shiono swirled his drink in his cup. “She wanted to submit what would become Dear Kafka, and I was the one she talked to for that. She was wearing unwashed clothes and shoes stuffed with napkins to fit her feet. She kinda smelled too, but don’t tell her I said that.

“I remember thinking, ‘Poor kid.’ She had that look in her eyes, the kind that told me that she’d lost something precious, and now she only had herself to count on. Most people would say, ‘she’s so mature’, but what kinda kid is self-reliant at fifteen? It’s messed up, is what it is.”

Kaneki happened to glance at Ayato, who was cackling at a joke Yumitsu had cracked. Ayato and Touka hadn’t always gotten along, and she once confessed that he’d run away from the orphanage they were at once, after an argument neither remembered anymore. He didn’t get far— he was only twelve— but Kaneki shuddered to think of what would have happened if he’d actually left.

Takatsuki must have experienced something similar. All alone, with no one who understood, except for the halls of her own mind.

“She was so nervous too, rubbing her wrists and glancing around like she might get attacked any second now. I didn’t think it then, but that was probably when I decided I’d adopt her.” Shiono glanced out at the ocean, toward that distant memory.

It must have meant so much to her, Kaneki thought. Someone who brushed aside the bad stuff and embraced her, even if they didn’t really understand. He felt the same about Hide, Touka, and everyone at Apes & Dobers. So many friends and experiences, even if their pieces didn’t quite fill the hole.

“That’s all to say,” Shiono took a swig of his drink, “kiddo’s had it rough. She’s gotten better, yeah, but part of that pain’s never really gone away, even though I’ve tried my best. Unfortunately, there are some things I can never fix, both as her friend and as her father.”

Kaneki’s brow furrowed. Where was he going with this?

“This’s a bit weird to ask, Sasaki, but… Be good to her. Can you do that for me?”

He tilted his head. “Er, sure? I, um, wasn’t planning to be… bad to her…?”

Shiono blinked, then burst into laughter. Full peals, sort of like Takatsuki. He really was her father.

“W-What?”

“Nothing, nothing! You’re a funny guy, Sasaki.” He put his drink down. “I can see why Sen laughs and smiles far more with you.”

She did? “Sh-She does?”

“You’re oblivious to your influence, huh? You’re just like Sen. Maybe that’s why she likes you so much.” Shiono shrugged with a smile. “She doesn’t have to explain why to you; you just get it.”

“But I—” I’m just her artist, her coworker, he wanted to say. An acquaintance of a few months. And even then, there are others far more qualified than— “Me?”

“Is it so hard to believe? Sen wouldn’t keep you around if she didn’t like you; she’d toss you out to the wolves instead.”

Kaneki chuckled at that. “Hopefully not literally.”

“Hopefully not literally,” Shiono repeated, then pat Kaneki’s shoulder. “Look, I’m not saying that you’re the perfect partner for her or anything, but I am saying that she picked you for a reason. And that reason’s why she’s brought you to so many things. I mean, who drags a mere coworker to Cochlea in the middle of the night, right?”

Kaneki’s laugh was a bit more nervous this time. When viewed from that angle, it made sense; Takatsuki trusted him to a very high degree to not say anything regarding that. A weirdly high degree, too.

“So I’ll ask again: are you in love with her?”

Kaneki looked away. “I…”

He could lie and say no, and Shiono no doubt would let the whole ordeal go. Hell, he might even tell the others for Kaneki, save him the awkwardness of apparently disappointing everyone. Things would continue as they had been, and eventually, the book would be completed and Kaneki would part ways with Shiono and Takatsuki both. The world would keep turning, wholly oblivious to the whole ordeal.

Or… he could say yes. Tell the truth. Say everything he’d been wanting to say for months. Cast his pride aside and make that faithless leap across the abyss. Would he fall into its depths, or would he make it to the other side? There was no way of knowing until he tried.

Kaneki grabbed the chains shackling himself down, then slowly undid them. It manifested in a small, “Yes.”

Shiono smiled. “Well, don’t tell me, then.” He made a shooing motion, chuckling. “Go on.”

Kaneki, with a bit of weight lifted from his shoulders, nodded, and cleaned his plate.

#blank canvas #writing #good dad shiono #special chapter next time! please look forward to it

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