I Fell In Love, But It Wasn't Mine To Have

4

Tsukiyama trailed her for half a block, waiting for an opening. He didn't really care that his lower half was bare to the general public, as very few people were out right now.
In fact, the old lady was the only person he had seen so far. He paused when he saw her drop something, bending down to retrieve it. Now was the perfect chance. Shuu willed himself forward in a short burst of speed. His mouth watered, and his vision went red as he gave in to his hunger. He tried to bring out his koukaku, intending on a quick, quiet kill. And promptly collapsed, a short scream tearing from him as agony pulsed through him. He curled into a ball, feeling liquid seep from his kahuko. RC cells or blood. Both, more than likely. Writhing in pain, he clumsily brought is hand to the area just below his shoulder blade. He sobbed when his fingers brushed it, but forced himself to touch it more. Something is wrong ohfuckohfuckohfuck whyisn'titcomingout!?
He could feel his kagune trying to emerge, but it was stopped by...itself. Tears dripped down Shuu's face. It was damaged.
What had those two ghouls done to him!? How was he supposed to hunt, provide food for himself? He suddenly heard a frail voice speaking rapidly, wavering in and out of focus.
"........was stalking me.........ghoul.... Scared he will.....please......"
Tsukiyama knew the old lady was calling the Doves.
He had to run.
If they found him like this, he'd be defenseless.
He stumbled to his feet, only to be knocked back by a small, suprisingly strong hand. He saw the old lady, looking fierce and terrified, going in for another slap.
Oh, oh, oh......savoureux. Delicious flesh, smells so good, want want want.
He snapped at the hand flying at his face, feeling his teeth rip into yielding flesh. She screamed, and that only fueled his bloodlust. He knocked her over, tearing into her arm, blood streaming down his chin, and he moaned, satisfaction and pleasure filling him as he began his meal.
The old woman was no match for him, even weak as he was. Blood sprayed across his face as he ripped out her throat, hands digging out her organs.
So good, so, so good, oh, yes, delicieux, magnifique, merveilleux.........he barely swallowed after he chewed, lost in his own world as he devoured his prey.
Tsukiyama could feel the wound in his shoulder healing, along with the other scrapes, scratches, and bruises.
Finally, he was full. He had eaten the old lady's insides, all of them, and some of her arms and legs. He was covered in blood. He staggered to his feet. The CCG would be here any second. He grabbed the old lady's coat and wrapped it around his waist, staggering away from the crime scene, thinking only of someplace he'd be safe.
He moved semi-quickly, wounds still healing, winding through alleys, keeping in the shadows, eyes open and ears straining. He knew that he was defenseless.
His kagune didn't work, nor would it ever again, most likely. Even if he ate more, he could feel the damage. He knew it was useless. He was useless.
Shuu finally found refuge in the back of an abandoned shop, breaking through the window and curling in a far corner, despairing over what to do next. He couldn't go back to the 20th ward.
What would the others say, when they found out that Tsukiyama was the ghoul equivalent of an invalid?
They'd probably laugh. Then kill him, celebrating his death.
He would deserve it, too.
Welcome it with open arms, at this point.
He began to cry again, some part of him laughing bitterly at the thought that he was more of a crybaby than that one ghoul, Naki.
He felt dirty, and filthy, and gross, but he closed his eyes, more tired than he'd ever been in his life. Tomorrow, he would worry about getting clean. And he would need to eat again. Maybe he'd stay here for now, instead of trying to find somewhere else to live. Because Shuu knew without a doubt: he wasn't going home.
***
The next morning, Tsukiyama woke with a cry, tears in his eyes, looking around wildly, terrified he wasn't alone. He scanned the dark shop, wide-eyed, every sense on high alert. His whole body trembled, soft whimpers slipping from his mouth. He didn't want to, he didn't want to, he didn't want to.
He shuddered as invisible fingers trailed over his skin, nails digging in, leaving crescents of blood. He could hear a soft moan, feel hot breath on his neck.
He hugged his knees, rocking back and forth, burying his face in his arms. "PleasestopnononoI'msorrypleasedon'ttouchmepleasedon'thurtme."
His unseen tormentor didn't reply. He breathed quickly, gasping for air as his head swam. Distantly, he knew he was having a panic attack, but he couldn't stop it.
He curled into a fetal position, the only sounds his harsh breaths and soft sobs.
***
He didn't know how long he had been here. He laid on the cold tile, staring at nothing, arms wrapped around his body, mind high-strung, alert for any possible threat. Shuu was hungry, stomach protesting at the lack of food, but he didn't dare move. Besides, he couldn't hunt anyway. His koukaku wouldn't work, he had tried to make it come out, only to end up writhing with pain when he tried. He knew he was dirty, and starving, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care.
It would be better if he died. No one would look for him. No one would care that he was gone. He replayed Kaneki's words in his mind, memorizing them, the truth of them keeping him grounded.
He thought of all the comments, all the insults the other ghouls had said to him. Pretty boy. Pig. Trash. Piece of shit. Pervert. Freak. Self-centered asshole. Little bitch. Stupid idiot.
Selfish prick. Why won't you go away? No one likes you. How can you even live with yourself? French bastard. Get out. I don't love you. No one could love you.
All of these things were true. He held them close, knowing they were what made up Shuu Tsukiyama. A pathetic, trashy whore. In more than one way.
He laid there, and he thought, ignoring the ache in his stomach and the pain in his chest, just wanting everything to go away.
**********