KANEKI X READER ONESHOTS

Shiro Kaneki: Don't Bother Searching For Somebody Like Me-angst

This oneshot can either be read as platonically or romantically, no established relationship is written but can be read as such.

[Genre: hurt/comfort]
[Not requested]
[Summary: Late night talks can reveal alot]
[Warnings: talks of trauma, child abuse, torture, touch starvation]

~~~

Your legs swung back and forth below you as you sat at the top of the Tokyo Tower, tired eyes looking out at the sea of buildings and street lights. The distant honking of car horns constant in your ears, making them ring.

The night was cold, as it usually was for a February in Japan. You pulled your scarf up over your nose, taking a deep breath in and taking in the scent of clean laundry.

Snow filtered down from the dark sky above, landing in your hair and on your clothes, but you didn't mind, it'd melt anyway, at some point.

The soft sound of something hitting the metal of the tower reached your ears, but you didn't react, as you already what -or rather who- it was.

His lithe frame sat beside you, a heavy black coat resting on his shoulders, as well as a stark white scarf around his neck. The same medical eyepatch was wrapped around his head, although you didn't know why he even still wore it.

His pale cheeks and nose were flushed pink from the cold, giving him a soft look as he watched the streets with you.

"You're late." You said, your voice slightly muffled by your scarf.

He fidgeted with his fingers absentmindedly, picking at the black on his nails as if it would go away. He just shrugged.

"Only by five minutes, I couldn't get away" he said, softly.

You mimicked his shrug, picking at a piece of loose fabric on your coat.

You looked over at him, taking in his appearance. It had only been a week since you had seen him last, yet it looked like he had changed so drastically. No longer was he a wide eyed, curious boy who just wanted to figure out what was wrong with himself. Now, he seemed just an empty shell of that.

He still occasionally talked about books he was interested in, but he no longer rambled about it like he used to. He no longer had that big smile he got whenever someone mentioned something he liked, he didn't even talk about many of his interests anymore.

He just looked so exhausted. The bags under his eyes seemed alot more prominent this time around, it looked like he could pass out any second.

As if he had felt your gaze, he turned his head and met your eyes. He didn't show much expression, but the slightest lift of his right eyebrow told you everything.

Your eyes trailed over his figure again. The bagginess of his clothes hid alot, and his hunched shoulders looked as if he were curling in on himself.

You looked into his eyes again as a single question rolled of your tongue, one that just made everything in him fall apart all at once.

"Are you ok?"

The hollow look in his eyes turned sad, and his posture turned from reserved to defensive, as if he were expecting to be hit.

He tore his eyes away from you and hugged his arms to himself, seemingly trying to offer himself protection.

With a shake of his head, a single, one worded answer fell from his lips.

"No."

The word came out alot more broken than he had intended. He hadn't been asked that kind of question in such a long time, and he didn't know why he told you the truth. That he was, infact, not ok.