The Closed Ward | Tokyo Ghoul

Chapter Seventeen | Bury Your Head

"Fuck this shit."

Shin dances back, his quick, nimble reactions only just saving him from being skewered through the stomach. He brings his staff forward, clashing against the sword-like kagune once more, his breath hitching as he locks eyes with the ghoul. A violent swirl of unrestrained insanity radiates out from just behind the crimson veil, and another shiver ripples down Shin's spine as he shifts his staff, managing to scrape the end just over the side of the ghoul's neck; without wasting a breath, he activates the staff, and dozens of glass-like shards erupt from the end, shooting outwards.

The ghoul grunts, shoving Shin away with the broad edge of its kagune; Shin's only too happy to comply, putting as much distance between the two of them as he can.

The ghoul doesn't immediately lunge at him again this time; instead, it stands in a half-crouch opposite him, bleeding eyes watching him intently from beneath the shadow of its scraggly bangs. A hand rests against its neck, and Shin can see rivulets of blood welling up from between its thin fingers. Soon, though, the steady red river slows to a crawl, before disappearing altogether. The wound's already closed up. Still. The ghoul's wary of him now.

I suppose it's safe to say this thing's come into contact with quinques before, Shin muses, twirling his staff around his hand and settling into something of a ready stance. Narrowing his eyes, he adjusts his already too-tight grip on the staff, and it changes again, with each end growing a jagged, prismatic wing that extends out into the early morning air, casting a faint red glow across the ground.

Skinner does little more than frown at this development.

Its kagune slithers out further, encasing its left arm now, spiralling around until it settles round its wrist, and Shin, seeing the blunted edges and rather wide casing, imagines this is meant to serve as a shield. A sword and a shield. Shit. Shin's not equipped to handle a koukaku-type ghoul in the first place, and he'd been hoping the ghoul would try to maintain an offensive tactic against him. If it's already moved onto to matching him in defense...

Shin inches a hand towards his pocket, fingers reaching for his phone; but the ghoul must read his intentions in his face, as it suddenly rushes him, sword and shield equally deadly, and Shin has no choice but to wrap both hands around his staff if he wants enough power behind his strike to block the incoming blow. He hisses out a slow, volatile string of curses as he feels the soles of his shoes giving out, unable to find sufficient traction on the beaten asphalt. Desperate, certain that if he doesn't move this ghoul is going to be chowing down on a hardy investigator quite soon, Shin acts rashly - something he knows will get him scolded by Takashi is he makes it out of this alive.

The ghoul refuses to budge no matter how much force Shin puts into his staff, and the glowing kagune wings don't seem to be as much of a deterrent as he was hoping they'd be; worse, he's steadily being pushed back, and if he's not mistaken, at the rate this is going he'll be backed against the wall of a long-abandoned laundromat. Sucking in a sharp breath, Shin flicks his eyes away from the kagune currently aiming to slit his throat (and very nearly succeeding in doing so, as his staff is only managing to keep the lethal point a few inches from his neck) and swiftly assesses the ghoul's form.

Alright. Well, at least this has a chance of working.

Shin twists his staff, breaking apart the pointless shoving match he's gradually been losing, and hooks the curve of his quinque's wing over the ghoul's shield. He's not strong enough to tug the ghoul off balance, but the sudden shift is enough to distract it for a moment, and Shin takes advantage of that as best he can. Bracing himself against his staff (and offering up a silent prayer that this idiotic move doesn't get him killed), Shin bends his knees for a moment, then jumps up, angling himself back so that he can slam his feet forward into the ghoul's wide-eyed face. A smile quirks at his lips, just for a second, as satisfaction surges through him; cartilage crunches beneath his shoes, and a gasp of surprise escapes the ghoul, which is a nice bonus.