Chapter Text
Kaneki Ken knew he was screwed up.
He first realized that he wasn’t exactly normal when he was seven. All the other kids had no problem making friends. All the other kids didn't have trouble breathing when they were spoken too.
All the other kids didn't worry about the shadows watching.
Kaneki saw them everywhere– looming around him, slithering around in the corners of the room, poised to strike. He worried that around every corner the Bad Men would be waiting, ready to take him away and kill his Mother.
Kaneki never said anything though.
"You can't tell anyone about the Bad Men, Kaneki. If you do they'll take you away. You don't want the monsters to get you now, do you?" she would tell him. So Kaneki kept his mouth shut, even when he sat in the corner of his room at night and could feel the shadows curl around his neck and choke him; their oily tendrils slipping into his mouth and filling his lungs so much that he couldn't breathe.
But he couldn't bother Mother. Mother was very busy.
When the Bad Men would come over, Kaneki's Mother would send him to his room. He'd cover his ears and pretend not to be there. He'd imagine that him and his Mother would go on a trip to an island, where there was no Bad Men or work or "private time." His Mother would play with him and cook him meals and they'd be happy.
When Kaneki's Mother died he didn't know what happened.
The Bad Men were over and Kaneki was in his room, per usual.
He waited.
He heard their voices rising and paid it no mind, they yelled a lot. Sometimes the yelling would quiet down to just grunts and when Kaneki's Mother would wearily yell at him to come outside, she would be crying, her clothes wrinkled and messy.
That time was different though. Kaneki heard nothing but screaming, yelling, cursing, then–
Bang .
The shot reverberated through his chest and Kaneki was out of his room in an instant (even though Mother would certainly punish him for it again ), only to find her on the floor. She was bleeding heavily, a pool of red blossoming around her.
"Kaneki," she gasped out, "help me. Go get the phone. Call 911."
But Kaneki was frozen.
His Mother was wheezing, her hand pressed to her stomach.
"Useless child! Go! Call 911, now! C-Can't you do anything ?!" she screamed and Kaneki scrambled for the phone.
When he got back to the living room, his Mother was still.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"... She's sleeping."
Kaneki got to live with his Aunt after that.
He missed his Mother.
The shadows choked him almost every night.
The Bad Men were around a lot more often with his Aunt. They would show up randomly and hit her.
Sometimes they'd hit Kaneki too.
He started to listen in on their conversations as he got older.
He picked up bits and pieces, stuff about money and "angel dust".
By age fourteen he realized what his Mother and Aunt were caught up in.
The shadows would whisper things to him. They would tell him that it was all his fault. After all, his Mother could still still be alive. He wouldn't have been in this position then. He wouldn't have had to endure the Bad Men.
He wouldn't have ended up in the situation that began his downfall.
He was twenty-one and it was November. The Bad Men, which he now knew were an infamous drug-dealing gang called Aogiri, were visiting his house. Kaneki had managed to avoid getting roped into his Aunt's dirty drama for the most part, and had gotten quite skilled at staying out of her business.
This time though, there was gunfire. And screaming. A feeling of déjà vu washed over him, making the blood drain from his face.
Nonetheless, Kaneki ran out of his room only to find his cousin with a bullet hole in his head. The familiar men were there with the leader holding his Aunt up by the neck.
"Well," he cooed, "if it isn't the foster child. What perfect timing."
"Nice try," his Aunt snorted, "but I don't care about that worthless kid."
The man gave a laugh.
"That's not what I wanted him for."
Then the man snapped his Aunt's neck and Kaneki was taken.
All his memories after that were a blur; a constant cycle of pain, hunger, pain, hunger, weariness, repeat, repeat, repeat. He remembered blades poking into his skin and dragging through his flesh, he remembered trying to escape, he remembered hands pinning him to the cold floor and tugging off his clothes and touching him–
"Mr. Kaneki," the officer spoke gently, "can you tell us what happened to your Aunt?"
Don't, an unfamiliar voice hissed. He looked up to see that it was a girl, tall and elegant, with flowing purple hair and red-framed glasses. Lie. Don't tell them. Aogiri will kill you, Kaneki.
"I'm not sure," Kaneki spoke softly, looking back towards the officer. At that moment Kaneki wished that he could sink into his hospital bed and never resurface.
It occurred to him, after that thought, that he just wanted to die.
"Do you remember anything about what happened before they took you? They had you for three weeks, you know. Did you see anything that you could tell us about? Do you know why they killed your Aunt?"
It was your fault again. You're twenty-one and still useless. You could have saved her. So what if she hit you? You deserved it. You're so selfish for letting them take you. You don't remember me, do you, Kaneki? How pathetic.
"Maybe if you could tell us who took you or how you escaped?" the officer probed. Kaneki was shaking, his eyes refusing to focus.
They're going to think you're crazy. You are crazy. You don't even remember what happened.
"Shut up," Kaneki whispered, cutting off whatever the officer was saying. "Shut up, shut up, stop it!" He threw his hands over his ears, trying to block out all the noise and fight back the tears forming in his eyes.
"Please, stop, stop, stop !" he wailed, thrashing in the hospital bed. The officer was standing up and walking towards him cautiously, as if he was some dangerous animal.
Kaneki didn't remember what happened next.
He was forgetting things a lot lately.
He did know that they diagnosed him with Schizophrenia and PTSD. He did know that he was being brought to an insane asylum.
"It's not an insane asylum," his doctor would scold him, "it's a psychiatric hospital."
It was an insane asylum.
Kaneki didn't know how much they really knew about his situation. He couldn't recall what he had told them or if they understood any of it. He didn't want them to know though. He didn't want to bother them with his issues.
That's what his Mother would have wanted.
"Don't be so selfish, Kaneki," she would snap, "burdening me with your problems when I'm trying to keep food on the table."
His face would hurt later that night.
But none of that mattered now.
He was in the backseat of a white van, his knee bouncing as he watched the familiar townhouses fly by.
Kaneki grew more and more anxious as they neared the "psychiatric hospital". The shadows were swirling around him, whispering things. Kaneki squeezed his eyes shut.
"You're not real," he uttered out in a whisper. They only laughed at him.
"Mr. Kaneki, we're here," the chauffeur told him. Kaneki managed a weak smile, trying his best to ignore the ache brewing in his head.
The chauffeur helped him into a wheelchair since his legs were still too weak to support him. He had lost a lot of weight thanks to the starvation, torture, and the infections from the countless wounds that Jason had put on him, not to mention the lack of sleep. It was no wonder Kaneki was unable to support his own weight.
He still didn't know how he escaped.
"Are you ready?"
"No," Kaneki muttered out, voice hoarse. The chauffeur laughed lightly.
"Life will be better for you here, trust me," he said softly. Kaneki winced.
He didn't want to live anymore.
Hideyoshi Nagachicka was sat at his desk reading over the newest file he had been given. He had been expecting another normal file; a new patient with something like depression or bipolar disorder.
He wasn't expecting to cry.
When Amon opened the door to his office he looked surprised, that is until he saw what file he was reading.
"Yeah, Mr. Kaneki's going to be here any minute. I was coming to make sure that you could handle him," Amon said softly. Hide wiped his face quickly, nodding.
"Did... Did this all actually happen?" Hide asked wearily. Amon nodded with a grimace.
"That's all they were able to get out of him at least," he sighed. "They haven't found much out about his past. All they know is that some people killed his remaining family and then took him for roughly three weeks." Hide rubbed his eyes again, the multiple notes in the file making his head spin.
Multiple slash and stab wounds, infected.
Dehydration/starvation.
All known family deceased.
Signs of Schizophrenia and possible depression.
Severe PTSD.
"God, this is... This is so unlike anything we've ever gotten before, and we've had our fair share of tragedy," Hide growled. Amon's phone chimed suddenly.
"They're here."
Kaneki's first thought was that it was quiet.
He didn't know what he was expecting. Wild patients laughing maniacally and scratching at the walls maybe. But it was calm. There was a few patients sitting at a table and playing a card game, all of them dressed in the same white scrubs as Kaneki. A few more were crowded around a small T.V., and one young girl sat in the corner reading a novel.
His second thought was, ' I want to go home. '
His third thought was cut short by his fourth thought.
His fourth thought being ' wow, that doctor is hot. '
"Mr. Kaneki? Hi, I'm Hideyoshi Nagachika, but you can call me Hide!" The hot doctor told him cheerfully. He stuck out his hand and Kaneki visibly flinched, much to his embarrassment.
"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered once he managed to calm his racing heart. Hide's smile was still in place.
"Nah, I'm the one who's sorry. I should be more careful! I just started here, y'know. I'm apprenticing that guy over there. His name's Amon. You're my fourth patient!" Hide explained cheerfully. Kaneki managed a small, wobbly smile, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. He was still tense, expecting Aogiri to show up at any second and take him again.
When the purple-haired girl appeared behind Hide, Kaneki tried to ignore her. He was nodding and managing weak smiles to whatever it was that Hide was explaining, (something or another about the basic rules of the ward).
Instead of focusing on the purple-haired girl, Kaneki busied himself observing Hide. He was slightly tanned (at least compared to Kaneki's paper-white skin), and had nice, rounded features. His hair was full and soft-looking, brown at the roots and blond to the ends. His eyelashes were long and dark, a perfect frame to his hazelnut eyes. Freckles dashed lightly over his smooth cheeks–
"Kaneki?" Hide prompted and Kaneki jumped.
"Y-Yes, sorry," he gasped. Hide smiled again.
"Let's get you settled in," Hide said.
Kaneki Ken was beautiful.
Even in a wheelchair, even in the hospital scrubs, even looking miserable and spaced out, Kaneki was gorgeous.
He was sharp-featured, his jaw angled to the point where it could cut somebody. He had unusual white hair, the strands delicate-looking and thin. He had this aura of sadness; everything about him was curled inwards.
The most shocking was his eyes.
Stormy grey, narrow and clouded over. He was constantly changing where he was looking. His eyes darted around, taking in all the features of the room. Hide sucked in a breath and put on another smile.
When Kaneki flinched away from Hide's hand, he knew that Kaneki had been a victim of abuse.
He just knew. Kaneki looked scared, his breathing picking up slightly, his entire body coiling up.
The PTSD was obvious as well; Kaneki's eyes refused to focus on one spot for too long, constantly moving and finding something new to look at. Eventually, Hide clued in that Kaneki wasn't listening to him at all.
"Kaneki?" Hide prompted gently, and Kaneki jumped.
"Y-Yes, sorry," he gasped out, making Hide's heart swell in sympathy.
"Let's get you settled in, yeah?" Hide told him, walking around his wheelchair– slowly this time –to push him around the facility. Hide could tell, as he pointed out all of the important rooms, that Kaneki didn't want to be there. With every room they entered, Kaneki seemed to squish into his chair more, his arms wrapped around his middle.
"Okay, here's your room!" Hide said far too loudly. Kaneki jumped once more, his breath hitching. Hide mentally scolded himself (again).
"T-Thank you," Kaneki muttered hoarsely.
"No problem! Dinner's in about forty minutes, so I'll let you settle in. You don't have to leave your room if you don't want to, 'kay?" Hide told him, smiling brightly. Kaneki's lips wobbled in a sad attempt at a smile back.
"Yeah, I-I'll just...um, stay h-here, thank you," Kaneki muttered out. Hide placed a hand gently on Kaneki's shoulder and Kaneki stared at it like he'd never felt human contact before in his life.
Hide smiled again. "You'll be safe here, don't worry!"
The minute Hide left, it felt as if all the air was sucked out of the room. Kaneki's blood ran cold at the feeling.
He was alone again.
But he wasn't, was he?
He felt her presence lingering inside the room, drifting around.
He felt her cold hands, her sharp nails gently scraping over his cheek.
"Who are you?" he gasped, shivers starting to crawl up his spine. He felt like bugs were roaming under his skin, making him wary and uneasy.
You know who I am, Ka-ne-kiii , she purred, her voice reverberating off the walls, sounding like she was everywhere. Trust me, you know who I am.
"I-I don't remember!" Kaneki cried, burying his head in his hands. "I c-can't remember much, I-" he muttered out, getting cut off when the ghost hands closed around his neck and cut off his air. Kaneki wheezed, starting to panic.
Sleep now, Kaneki. Remember me.
S omehow Kaneki managed to crawl into his bed and twist up into a ball, a cold sweat making the sheets stick to his skin.
Kaneki couldn't recall when he drifted into sleep, but he knew that he was dreaming when he found himself strapped down to a familiar metal table.
He wasn't remembering anything useful; just clearer, more in-depth memories of his time spent with Jason. He remembered the feeling of Jason's scalpels digging into his flesh, pulling him apart slowly, but not slowly enough to kill him. He remembered the needle pop through his skin and make his entire body freeze and tense up like a spring unable to release. He remembered the feeling of the electrical shocks, charring him from the inside out.
He remembered Jason's laughs, his repeated question of ‘what's 1000-7, Kaneki?’ as he carved his name into Kaneki's skin and started running his meaty hands all over Kaneki's body, pulling at his hair and burning at his wrists when he cried–
"What's 1000-7, Kaneki?"
He was unable to do anything but lay there sobbing, weak gasps leaving his body in bursts.
He forgot that he was dreaming. It was too vivid. He felt every nail get torn off, felt every rib get cracked–
"What's 1000-7, my pet?"
All he could feel was the pain, the burn, the shaking of the table–
"Hey, Kaneki, wake up!"
...993,986,979...
" Please, wake up, you're dreaming! "
He was, wasn't he?
" What's 1000-7? "
"I don't know, please, please stop it!" Kaneki screamed.
The purple-haired girl appeared behind him, running her hands around his torso, the tips of her nails poking in slightly– and then she was tearing him open and ripping him apart and he was screaming and–
"Rize!"
Hide had been in his office for a whole twenty minutes before somebody knocked on his door.
"Come in," he called out absent-mindedly. Hinami stood at the door, nervously shuffling her feet. Her cheeks were red and her breath was coming out in puffs.
"S-Sorry, Mr. Hide, but I heard crying from the new guy's room, and-" she explained softly, but Hide was already speed-walking towards Kaneki's room.
He heard the sobbing from the end of the hall and sped into a sprint.
Kaneki was curled up into a ball on the bed, all the blankets pushed off from his thrashing. He was sweaty and shivering, his face tear-streaked and clenched in pain. He was itching at himself wildly, spewing out random numbers and babbling.
Hide was at his side in a second, shaking him gently, trying to wake him.
"Hey, Kaneki, wake up!" Hide whisper-yelled, smoothing his hair off his clammy forehead. Kaneki seemed to relax slightly, the numbers slowing down.
"Please, wake up, you're dreaming!" Hide tried again. Kaneki loosened slightly more before tensing up again.
"I don't know, please, please stop it!" he sobbed out and Hide's heart clenched. He shook Kaneki more violently, really worried now. Should he get Amon? Or Akira even? This wasn't normal, he'd never seen a night terror this bad.
Kaneki howled suddenly, clenching his stomach and bolting upright, wide awake.
"Rize!" he gasped out, his breathing wild and spastic. He scrambled away from Hide, backing into the farthest corner of the bed like a trapped animal.
"Hey, woah, you're okay, Kaneki," Hide reassured softly. Kaneki's eyes were blown wide, fearful and confused. Hide reached his hand out slowly, letting his fingers barely graze Kaneki's knee.
"See? I'm here," he soothed. Kaneki's breathing was still uneven, so Hide took the initiative to coax Kaneki to come closer. He did, cautiously, and Hide grasped his hand lightly and placed it over his own heart.
"Here. Breath with me," Hide commanded gently. Kaneki nodded, trying to quiet down and follow the instruction. Hide watched Kaneki as he closed his eyes, still trembling slightly. They stayed there for awhile, sitting in silence until Kaneki croaked out a ‘thank you’.
"Don't thank me," Hide laughed quietly. "This is what I'm here for!"
It was the truth. He had done that exact routine with multiple other patients before. It was a good way to calm a panic attack.
But why, with Kaneki, did it feel so different?