Persistent Memories (Tokyo Ghoul:re, Arima)

[Ashy]

Okay, so @LeapYearKisses requested more TG stuff, and I thought that it was a GREAT idea, so I decided to do a little sick Arima with Haise helping him out. The dashes are to seprate present and past. This story is in 3rd person omniscent, so it switches thoughts at some points it would seem. My computer no longer checks for spelling errors, so I apologize for any mistakes.

 

WARNING: Spoiler alert if you have not read or are caught up on Tokyo Ghoul:re. The story of Tokyo Ghoul is very depressing and this small drabble touches upon those many points. It is dark and general angst, so if you are oversensitive to talk of death and just underline dark themes this story is NOT for you.

 

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A small trail of sweat dripped down his ivory toned forehead, passing the charcoal brow and slowly sliding further. His features were scrunched in an anxious manner, a feeling of regret sitting heavy on his chest. These feelings couldn’t drag him down during battle, he would not let them. How he would defeat the man standing before him would be an impossible feat. Hard, cold orbs burned into his body, sending shivers down his spin. But, was the man right to do what he had done? Kaneki cared for nothing more than to save his friends, he had to shove all thoughts aside no matter how both physically and mentally stressing this battle maybe.

Arima had been like a father to him, but he held high expectations, wanting Haise to suppress his true instincts, who he really was. Even that cold look the white haired gave him now made him think back to the times he was scolded for being a ‘Ghoul sympathizer’ how he was too soft when facing Ghouls. He had seen it many times before, it wasn’t a gaze only he was met with. Often he saw Arima give Ghouls such a look, no matter how hard he tried to have Haise shove down Kaneki and leave him in the past he would always look at him as though he was still Kaneki, a Ghoul.

He had breached Cochlea, torn all bonds that were connected to Haise, he was no longer Haise. Haise was a facade Arima had him create to get back in touch with his humanity. It hadn’t worked, Kaneki was who he was and will always be.

 

‘Hard to believe that I would bite the hand of you, my mentor?’

 

They were persistent, the many times he was stuck in this very building for so many months. He was driven into insanity when Arima had kept him alive though he stood there, ready for death so he could be with his dear friend. He clawed out his eyes, refused to eat, he wanted death at the loss of Hide, but instead Arima saw a half Ghoul he could make human once again. Who was the Ghoul sympathizer then? Haise could name Arima’s actions, but not explain the purpose behind them. Like his cold and expressionless appearance the Ghoul Investigator was near impossible to read, to understand. Haise had tried, he had tried very hard, but he would never live up to those damn expectations.

Even though Kaneki should be filled with resentment, anger, hatred towards Arima, he did not want to fight him. A good part of his reasoning was the man was a terror to fight, the most elite. Kaneki would be lying had he said he was fearless to fight him, doubts gripped his mind tight, in fact. There was another part of him that thought of Arima like a father, something he had never had. Memories of times Arima had reached out to him, helped him with settling back into humanity, training with him. There was one memory that stuck out to him, one where for the first time he had seen a different side to this elite man.

-

 

It was long ago, before he became a Dove. The man, he had just taught Haise how to read and he loved it very much. Along with reading, it was then he was given his name Haise Sasaki.

 

His body was curled on the cot, a book in hand and his eyes filled with curiosity and wonder. Haise had woken up one day, having no clue who he was, where he came from, even simple reading and language. A simple, white dress shirt and loose fitting pants was the outfit in which he was allowed to wear. Books led him to a world of wonderment, gave him memories, images he hadn’t before. There were many words he stumbled across in these stories that Haise was unsure about, he was told to write them down and the man that came to see him would tell him what they meant and how they would be used in a sentence. This man gave him knowledge and comfort despite his expressionless mannerisms.

 

Hasie frowned a bit, his eyebrow knitting down in a bemused expression as he tried to sound out the word he read in one passage. He grabbed the pencil pressed to his torso and set down the book, but his page was still in his sight. A a torn piece of notepaper was what he wrote the word on, his handwriting also needed work, but that was an issue for another time. Bright orbs looked up from the paper as the door to the room opened. Like an excited puppy, the blended haired boy jumped up, knowing who was entering his room. He excitedly grabbed his book and paper and stood silently waiting for instructions, but a giddy wide smile clear on his features.

 

The tall, slim figure walked in. His build was firm and stern, his features were cold, hard, and expressionless, but they seemed to bring Haise joy. This man, Arima Kishou, was all Haise knew, had and he was fine with that. Little did he know at the time how much things would change, even to the point the same man he looked up to with excitement and unquestioned loyalty was now standing before him more than well prepared to end his life. Only as his gaze fully set on Arima, he knew something was off,  just not right about the other. His smile softened, but did not drop to a frown. His eyes carefully looked over the White Reaper’s features, they seemed...more pale? Was that possible? Maybe it was the faint red blotches on his cheeks that made them seem that way?

 

“Haise.” The man stated, stern, but low in volume. Haise was snapped back into reality away from his thoughts, his gaze looking directly into Arima’s empty, onyx eyes. They looked to the chair at the small table then back to Haise. He nodded and walked over to the table, taking a seat and setting his items on the table.

 

“I’ve gotten to Chapter Five since I last saw you, but I have some words I wasn’t sure about.” The younger man spoke as the elder took a seat adjacent to him, looking at the paper he was speaking of.

 

“Haise, you are a smart boy, I want you to go back to the pages you saw these at and read them again. Try and guess what context they may be used in. I will not be there to hand you the answer, we’re going to try to work on some more independent skills.” That would be the extent of words exchanged. Arima’s tone sounded low and gravely, rather than smooth. In the pit of his stomach, Haise felt something off. He wasn’t used to this feeling, he should have said something, but instead he pushed it down and did as he was told.

 

His eyes trailed the words of the passage, mindlessly following along, the pictures he had imagined before playing over again in a more fluid fashion. Only, his eyes seemed to move away as he heard an odd noise from the other man. It seemed as though his breathing grew irregular to he had thought was normal. His eyes closely and sharply studied Arima’s features, body language, as though he was trying to read him with the same carefulness as he did a book. The man’s eyelids slowly closed, hiding his tired, dark eyes and his firm jaw went slack for a moment. A gloved hand rose clasping over his lower features while white hair fell over his upper features. Haise’s eyes then trailed down to Arima’s frame, his shoulders shuddered with each breath, and his chest would expand suddenly before relaxing back as he exhaled. He could see the tightened muscles, could feel the discomfort radiating off him.

“H-h..Hhh-hh!” His fore finger and thumb clamped down on his nose and the usually strong man jolted forward. “Hh’gnxxts!” Arima was scrunched into himself, allowed another breath before, “Eh’gxsst!” Each controlled, yet sudden burst made Haise jump a bit in his seat. He could only stare at Arima, unsure of what had just happened.

 

The gloved hand lowered a hint, a thick, wet sniffle the only sound after. Though dazed, his eyes met Haise’s. They could see how worried the boy was for him, but he grunted to clear his throat some and did not acknowledge the outburst of his in anyway.

 

“Read,” he stated dully, a small rasp escaping him. Damn this forsaken cold of his, he had no time to lie in bed until it had passed. There were far too important tasks he must do that could not wait for ‘sick days’.

 

“A-Arima..Are you-” The elder cut the other short.

 

“Read, Haise.” He spoke more clear and loud. Only this was a poor choice. His throat resented the use, and a sharp pang triggered a coughing fit from the man. It was dry and chesty, is made Haise cringe a bit. He felt pain in his own chest just hearing the other’s cough. That was when he remembered something from his book. Haise set down his book and stood. His hand hesitantly rested on Arima’s back. He could feel the crackling in his lungs as the other coughed, that shouldn’t be good. Slow and soft, he rubbed small circles. This was more so comforting than any other purpose. This man, he did so much for Haise, Haise owed him the same comfort he gave him.

 

“It is okay, Arima. I’ll help you.” For just a moment he leaned foreward, able to meet the gaze of the elder. It was not hard, or stern. No, it was kind and caring. For a moment, just a moment, he could see a smile on Arima’s face. This was the first time he had seen Arima smile. He could feel his stomach fill with butterflies, a bit of pink dusting his cheeks. He was a bit honoured the man graced him with a smile. His own spread wide with a glowing happiness. The words he had spoken he could remember Arima telling him just the same when he struggled with something. Arima made him feel as though he were no longer alone, something he appreciated.

 

“I don’t need help, but thank you. Read.” And his smile dropped, Haise was staring at this man hard for a moment before complying. So much for feeling graced. What was he? Chopped liver? A small exhale of air passed through his nostrils, he found himself funny. “He’gnxXSH’ue!” Arima was unable to stifle successfully that time, the sneeze had escaped. It was loud, Haise had almost fallen over the chair by the sudden scare.

 

He whipped around, looking to Arima with a surprised look. Arima, of course, did not even return the a gaze in response to Haise. The underling of the Death God of the CCG had been skeptical to return to reading, clearly his mentor was not okay.

 

He then noticed Arima’s cheeks were a shade redder than they were before. A dark brow rose, but as he placed his hand on the table, he realized why. Haise had set his hand on something rather...grotesque, his body visibly shivered in disgust. Arima’s sneeze was uncovered, and what Haise placed his hand in was what had traveled out of his nostril. His eyes were hidden beneath his bangs, he couldn’t possibly look the other in the face. How unprofessional, gross, and of course something so utterly and agonizingly embarrassing happened in front of someone who looked up to Arima, thought of him so highly.

 

“Do...Do you have something I can clean my hand with?” Haise mumbled, glancing to Arima. The other did not speak. Instead he just simply pulled a napkin from his overcoat pocket and tossed it Haise’s way. The half Ghoul gratefully took the napkin to rub away whatever was on his hand and the table. “You have some on your…” The elder man turned his head away as Haise brought the trail of mucus dripping from his nose to attention. He pulled out another napkin, this time for himself. Haise thought to himself for a brief moment, this man who he could sense was strong looked rather pathetic. “Arima, you don’t have anywhere to go after helping me, do you? I think I need a while to figure this out...It is a bit tricky.”

 

Those dark, midnight colored orbs peered over glasses as he looked to Haise. He knew what the boy was doing. “Haise…” He mumbled, his lips twitched upward the slightest bit. Haise cared enough for Arima that he wished to ‘waste his time’ so he would not have to work himself rugged in his current state.

 

“Take all the time you need.” This was the elder’s way of thanking him, by accepting his offer of a brief time to rest there.he would still be doing his task of helping  him, just he would have long moments of silence to relax with.

 

“I should be the one saying that to you.” Haise said softly, a warm smile on his lips. He then turned to his book, once again reading to perform the task Arima had originally given him.  

 

-

His jaw clenched tight, the lump that formed in his throat was hard to choke down. Such a fond memory, the first time he had seen Arima smile to him in such a genuine way. There was no way he could kill Arima, but what if he must? Why did he have to be so poor at decision making. Kaneki knew he would have to make a choice, be it wrong or not, but that did not settle the churning uncertainty in his stomach. He fist tightened, pale knuckles turning white.

There was simply no more time to dwell in the past, their battle was in the here and now. If he must, Kaneki will burn that bridge when he gets to it.

Edited July 3, 2016 by Ashy

[LeapYearKisses]

Aaaah!  You're so fast, and oh man, I'm so happy!  I absolutely love the atmosphere here!  I think it's so great that you chose to frame the story how you did, in the middle of their battle.  That battle is still resonating with me, since I just finished reading a day or so ago, and this brings me right back there!  I love all of the detail you put into this.  Haise's feelings are so complex, and so is the picture of Arima.  It was awesome to see Arima have a vulnerable moment in here when he's always such a stiff and imposing character.  It was great to see Haise's reaction to confinement before and after Arima tried to bring him back.  And you really have to feel a bit sorry for Arima here, even after everything he's done. You got so much of what I like in here!

Thank you so much!!