The Closed Ward | Tokyo Ghoul

Chapter Sixteen | Day of the Dead

"Annnnd.... That should do it!"

Hinata steps back to survey his work, head tilted. The door may have seen better days, but all in all, he can't it looks all that different from before he rammed his shoulder into it. A few splinters here and there, but nothing major, nothing too eye-catching. Rui shouldn't have much trouble with people asking her what happened so long as they don't look too closely.

Rui.

He winces, craning his neck to see over his shoulder. The apartment turned quiet quite a while ago, and Hinata can't recall exactly when it was that he ceased hearing her occasional sniffle, or the whispers she thought were too low for his ears. Guilt gnaws at his heart like something physical, a rabid animal let loose inside his rib cage. However illogical it seems, he can't help but think Rui's life took a nosedive the moment she met him.

It's not true - he wasn't in any way responsible for Ikehara Kaori's disappearance, and especially not her death. He knows it isn't true, and yet...

Stowing his tools away in the box he carried in from his own apartment, Hinata stands from his crouched position. He unties his jacket from around his waist and slips it on, frowning at the chill so evident in the air. Rui must be freezing if he's feeling it this badly.

"Rui-chan! I took care of the door. Anything else ya want me to do..."

He trails off as he enters the living room, his face going slack in surprise.

Rui's curled up atop the couch, hands balled up beneath her head, brow furrowed and mouth parted slightly. She's shaking, which he only realizes once he's knelt down beside her; worse still, he can't be sure her trembling's even the result of the onslaught of cold that's invaded the room.

No, he thinks, brushing aside a lock of damp hair, darkened to a grayish pink with sweat, and tucking it behind her ear, she's terrified.

Is she dreaming? Perhaps. There's tension in the set of her jaw once she closes her mouth, and he can almost make out the faint sound of her teeth grinding against one another. A muscle ticks in her temple, responding to the abuse of her jaw.

A nightmare, then.

He's not surprised - rather, he would have been shocked to see her sleeping soundly after everything that happened. To find her sleeping at all, though, he wouldn't have expected that. Some part of her doesn't trust him, however small, however ignored - that's what he's told himself since day one. Because it's only natural that she would hate him, fear him, wish death upon him and all his kind. Ghouls have done nothing but terrorize humans since they came into existence however many centuries ago, because that's all they can do. They crave human flesh; it's the only thing that sustains them. They can't help that, of course, any more than people can when it comes to needing their own food for survival.

But Hinata knows they've gone about it all wrong.

Ghouls and humans... they're not so different, really, aside from certain aspects of their anatomy. Hinata's no genius, but he knows the basics. Ghouls may have the upperhand when it comes to physical strength, but they're primal, in ways that humans find downright animalistic. And they're right to think that. Hinata's seen what hunger does to a ghoul firsthand, what instincts it preys on, how it shuts off all sense of rationality until the aching emptiness in one's stomach has been appeased.

He hates that part of himself more than anything, that instinctual drive to feed, to survive above all else.

He hates his helplessness, too, but he smothers that most of the time, focuses on something, anything else, because he can't be helpless, not all the time. He has to be strong, steel-like in his intent, or else... or else, everything he's ever fought for will be meaningless in the end.