Grey overwhelms the atmosphere, then the thick smog of inaudible whispers and drunken rumblings lift and slowly come to life. Swarms of beings flooding through the cigarette littered streets breathing in fresh sewer dust, each living a story of their own. Black hats, blue hair and stained fingertips
Locks bleached ash and soggy ponytails. The clear umbrellas become a canopy under a downpour of music and alluring signs. He walks down with his snow-drift-like dress code, fit for an outsider trying to live within a metropolis with no time to slow down, his breath hitching as he chases it, his pale lifeless cheeks gaining colour only momentarily.
He tries to read the street signs in complex language, flying past him if it would make it harder. But this is what he chose, the true fit to his aesthetic, a place where he can be content. I think this is where he belongs amidst a city full of people but also where he can be totally alone, dressed in all white or in black. When the sun drowns into the Tokyo skyline, light is never lost. His white hair glows on the neon layered with a toxic gray haze, and flares against his skinny charcoal drenched shoulders.
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Monotone Façade
FanfictionGet drunk on an over-worded observational short based on Tokyo Ghoul's white-haired Kaneki, told by a person who doesn't know what he was going through beyond that monotone façade.
