OC Tokyo Ghoul Fanfiction

Chapter 4

The ripples of tears swam down his face, streams of a time long gone. His black fingernails tugged and clawing against the white waves as they streamed over him, encasing him in a warmth that he yearned for. His orange strands flung in violent spurs as the boy sprung upwards, dark skin reflecting in the afternoon glaze, rippling over his toned figure. His silver eyes watered slightly, tear ducts struggling to pressure the waves of sadness past. That toned chest raised in and out rapidly, taking several seconds to slope downwards to a slight stillness. A voice pierced the room's floorboards, the tone concerned, the volume a demonic boom.

"Hideo-Kun?" It echoed, "Are you alright?"

The boy slid his hand past his forehead, pushing the orange hair back, fixing his view. The Tear ducts swallowed the last remnants of the waves which were now mere drips. The apparent nightmare over...

He breathes in deeply, calming himself before giving his standard reply.

"All is well Tai-Sama," he replies, struggling to be chirpy, "Sorry to keep you waiting."

He slowly clambers out of bed, his short black boxers clinging to him tightly. Gingerly his feet touch the glazed floorboards as he lets out a gentle sigh.

Minutes later his combat boots stamp their imprint into the household steps, as the boy thunders down, Orange and black outlined vest clinging to his built figure as his hair gingerly waved left to right. His gaze leaves his feet as his eyes meet his seniors. A pair of hazel pupils smile at him, the grey suit arching into an upright position...

...He's too much like Ken...

"Morning," Tai smiles, a bowl of streaming hot noodle soup with red barbeque pork waiting before him. He gestures to the bowl, "Please. Eat."

The apprentice joins Tai at the table, and his fingers draw the bowl forward as he sets to work.

"Late start huh?" the voice asks, the apprentice looks up and meets Tai's gaze.

"Uh yeah," comes the reply, it was quickly followed by the slurping of noddles, clicking of chopsticks and a spoonful of soup.

Silence. Awkward.

The apprentice finishes his food foolhardily, anxious to begin work. Tai taps his pale fingertips in silence, unsure of how to proceed. "So..." he begins tone cautious, "I'm...I-I'm sure you're aware what day it is..."

The apprentice nods.

"Well...If you need time..."

The apprentice nods.

"Will you please say something Hideo-Kun?"

Those silver eyes pierce upwards meeting the Senior Investigators gaze with a slurp.

"I'm fine," the boy says, brandishing his Orange spiked hair, casting over his eyelids, "I need some air". He gets up hurriedly and leaves, pushing through the apartment door, feet pattering down the steps, marching onwards into the afternoon air. As he storms away, a wanted flyer blurs past him, he barely takes notice. If he had only payed attention to the posters figure, her long waving skirt that flowed down her lean figure the end frills a blood red. The waist belt has wrapped its velvet violet around her waist and drifted down beside the frills. Armoured top, shades of beige, navy blue and blood, her left armed encased in a loose frilly and her opposite hand dominated by a dark violet thumbless glove. A white, navy blue, and red cat mask glaring into your soul.

Feline.

 He finally reaches his destination. The cemetery. Cold is the waking death that the dead take around him, their still lifeless bodies radiating a frozen wasteland of shivers. Kuero-Mado knows the path too well as he walks onwards. He smiles weakly inside. Ken Hideo. His superior. Mentor.

Adopted Father.

Kuero-Mado was aware he had been adopted. He knew from the second he had been born he was not the blood and flesh of his father. But he had never cared for Ken had always treated him the same. An equal. He was beloved more than anything his father had chosen to do. Not even his job reigned supreme. His feet halted as Kuero's knees gave way. His ebony tracksuit pants thud against the grass, as the apprentices gaze meets the written passage.

Ken Hideo

Beloved Friend, Father and Son. A man of justice.

A swell ripples under his eye lids. He shivers, the air feeling more dense and frozen than before. The cold whispers of the dead riveting through his body. He closes his eyes and tries to forget that's the bloody memories float back.

"Run boy!"

And then...their final conversation as a father and son...

The warmth of sun gazed upon them as he felt his father's warmth snuggle against him.

"Another nightmare?" Ken asks, his tone was soft and reassuring, worry painted across his face.

"Yeah," Kuero replies, he gingerly breaks away from the cuddle and shifted to his side of the bed. Sometimes his dad was too...over caring. It seemed weird. He couldn't tell whether his father was hurt by that action or not, but the son swore he felt his father's eyes fall from his back to an ashamed parting.

"Son," Ken begins, trying to sadden tiny quivers in his voice, "You know you can tell me everything, right?"

Kuero sighs. "I know".

Hideo senior moves forwards, sliding himself into Kuero's side of bed, his embracing and large arms wrapping around his son once more as the daylight shone through the blinds.

"Good." He begins, his tone light and comforting, "I will always love you Kuero. Even in parting."

The son doesn't immediately reply, instead he waits a few painful seconds before stating something as he moved out of the cuddle and essentially out of the bed into the mornings wistful and slightly colder air.

"Yeah. Whatever."

If only he had said the words that he truly meant. His orange stands sway over his eyelids as the rivers of regret rile and roll over his cheeks. He croaks as he slumps against the tombstone, embracing it as the sobs overtake him.

"I...I love you too dad..."

Silence.