by Shin Towada
Knowing she was really in for it, Touka apologized. Yoshimura glanced around the café, then said, “Take a little break.”
“Wh—I’m fine!”
“Take a look in the mirror.”
Touka was dogged in her refusal, but Yoshimura shook his head from side to side. It was a quiet action, but it had a profound power.
Sandwiched between them, Kaneki looked at them both and said, “I think perhaps you should take a little break too.”
Touka was about to raise her voice again to say, “I don’t need you to tell me that,” but she felt Yoshimura’s eyes on her.
“Dammit.”
Touka defiantly turned her back and went into the back room.
“God, my face looks awful,” Touka muttered without thinking as she looked into the mirror in the living room on the second floor. She had a worn-out expression, as if all the exhaustion in her heart were showing on her face.
“I brought you a coffee, Touka.”
Despite her outburst at him, Kaneki had appeared carrying a tray with coffee, acting the way he always did.
“I made it myself,” he said, setting the cups on the table then sitting down on the sofa.
“Get back to work.”
“Yoshimura told me to take a few minutes.”
Kaneki gazed at the coffee, steam rising from it, as he asked, calmly, “Think you guys will make up?”
Touka said nothing. Kaneki chose his words carefully.
“Hey, the thing is, you’ve obviously got a lot more experience than me in the Ghoul world, and you’ve taught me a lot, but when it comes to the human world … I’m the one with more experience than you.”
Silence.
“So, I might be helpless as a Ghoul, but maybe I could be of some use to you in this situation. Just an idea I had.”
Kaneki just didn’t know when to quit at moments like this.
“How the hell could you be any use?”
“M-maybe you’re right. But maybe talking about it would make you feel better, anyway?”
No matter how much she pushed him away he wouldn’t leave. Touka was the one who’d run out of patience.
“Go to hell.”
She’d lashed out at him again and again, and yet Kaneki still approached her. And she spat words of abuse at him.
She paused.
“If you laugh, I’ll kill you.”
Touka started to tell him a rough version of the past few days’ events.
“Oh, right … that’s a tough situation you’re in,” Kaneki said softly, with a very serious look on his face.
“You really think so?”
“I do! You know how Yoriko is—she must be pretty upset right now.” He paused. “And it’s not exactly right to call this a fight, but when you have had a serious misunderstanding like this, you can’t help but think the worst.”
So is that why he said we should hurry and make up?
“But tell me, Touka—how are things, I mean really?”
“How is what?”
“Her sharing her lunch, or the thing with the zoo. What I mean is, what do you think about it?”
I can’t keep a poker face when I have to eat human food, and with the zoo, part of it is like Mayuhara said—Yoriko asked me, so I agreed.
But …
“I dunno.”
“Right,” Kaneki murmured, faced with Touka’s inability to provide an answer. “This is something I’ve felt myself, so some of it might be a little off the mark. But the thing about you is, you always act decisively. For you to feel so lost over something as small as this shows just how big Yoriko’s presence is in your life.”
Touka said nothing.
An objective, outside opinion. But one at total odds with Mayuhara’s.
“So obviously I think you should make up with her. Also, you should go to the zoo. I think if you don’t, you’ll regret it later.”
Originally, the two of them were supposed to go to the zoo the day after tomorrow. But Yoriko had told Touka the plan was off.
“Uh, well, you might be right …”
Kaneki cared about Touka and was seriously worried about her. What a gullible-ass idiot. Touka traced the rim of the cup of lukewarm coffee with her fingertip.
When they’d first met, he had been screaming and criticizing Touka for being a Ghoul, but before long, when faced with his own tragedies, he’d started to take them to Touka.
“Oh, yeah! Is there anything you could do for Yoriko that would make her happy?”
“Make her happy?”
Kaneki clasped his hands, delighted at what a good idea it was, and made his suggestion.
“Yeah. Yoriko’s been hearing all sorts of things from people over this, and she’s probably losing confidence. Which is why if you tell her how you feel, as if none of that matters, it’ll all be resolved.”
Thanks for laying it out for me. This stuff is so not my strong point.
“But what should I do?”
“Hm … you could give her some kind of present, or write her a letter telling her how you really feel.”
“No way. I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Oh. I thought that was a good plan.”
Kaneki seemed disappointed, and he looked up at the ceiling. Touka brought the coffee to her lips, turning it all over in her mind.
Something that would make Yoriko happy.
What on Earth could that be?
IV
Tomorrow’s a holiday—the day I was originally going to go to the zoo with Yoriko.
Looks like my threat got through to Mayuhara and her friends because they’re keeping quiet, but Yoriko’s still not herself, Touka thought at lunchtime as she ate a terrible sandwich.
When she was given people food it was painful for her to digest it, but she had loved how sweet it was of Yoriko to give her part of her lunch out of concern for how little Touka ate.
Then there was the zoo. Perhaps Touka didn’t really care about going to the zoo itself. But going with Yoriko, seeing her look happy—that would’ve been enough for Touka. And so they’d settled on going to the zoo, and Touka had loved seeing Yoriko so excited.
“Oh, right.”
I did actually want to go to the zoo with her. Maybe it was a different kind of wanting to go from what Yoriko desired, but still, I wanted to go. That’s why I’ve been hanging on to the map she gave me, carrying it with me everywhere.
I should’ve said I wanted to go when she told me the plan was off.
I’m bad at sorting out my feelings, and although I try to put on a good front I’m just so incredibly immature. And I hate that about myself.
Well, it’s not a conspiracy, dammit. If you want to do something, do it yourself, bitch.
The image of her brother, Ayato, who’d left home, flashed in Touka’s mind. I should’ve said something then, too.
School ended, and the two of them left school at the same time. Yoriko was talking about something inoffensive, as if trying to avoid anything to do with the zoo.
“Right, well, this is where I turn …”
They stood at a crossroads. This was where Yoriko said goodbye. She had always turned off here with a cheery “See ya,” but today neither of them was moving very fast. Yoriko seemed to be waiting for Touka to say something. If I’m going to fix this, now’s my last chance.
But the words just wouldn’t come.
“Well then, bye, Touka,” Yoriko said, then dashed off, as if she were running away from the silence.
“Yoriko!”
When the words finally came out, Yoriko was already far away, and Touka’s voice didn’t reach her.
Gripping the strap of her bag, Touka started walking toward Anteiku.
If I use my kagune I can soar so easily, like a bird, like a butterfly. But my feet cou
ldn’t be any heavier right now.
“Why am I so …”
Thoughts of Yoriko, Hinami, and Ayato ran through her mind, and Touka found it hard to breathe. All I do is upset people.
“Oh, and they’ll have somewhere we can sit outside and eat lunch!”
She remembered Yoriko’s smile. Touka stopped walking and looked back at the road she had disappeared down.
People suck. They’re bound by stupid laws, have an idiotic love for groups, and, convinced that they’re in the right, they lump together those they hurt and drive them out.
But though they’re weak, some of them care about others; they may be fragile, but they show love to the people who are important to them; they may not have claws or fangs, but they will fight to defend someone.
Do Ghouls do that? Do I?
Is it really just the boundary between Ghouls and humans that keeps me and Yoriko apart? Or have I actually been the one keeping us apart?
“Is there anything you could do for Yoriko that would make her happy?”
Kaneki’s words came to Touka’s mind. Something simple that a human or a Ghoul could do. And I can’t do that because … I’m the weak one?
“Shit!” Touka yelled, and began to run toward Anteiku.
“Hey, you!”
As soon as Touka walked in the door, she shouted at Kaneki.
“Y-you could at least call me by name, Touka.”
“Come with me after work!” Touka ordered Kaneki, interrupting him. Kaneki rolled his eyes, but despite Touka not explaining anything he must have sensed what it was about.
“Okay,” he said in agreement.
“Boss, I’m sorry, but could we possibly finish a little early today?”
She was much more polite to Yoshimura when she asked than she had been to Kaneki. Like Kaneki, Yoshimura did not ask why, but smiled and said, “I’ll let you this time, since you’re always such a hard worker.”
With Yoshimura’s blessing, Touka and Kaneki left at a much earlier time than usual. Kaneki followed behind Touka, who clearly had a destination in mind.
“Hey, Touka? Where are we going?” Kaneki asked, starting to get worried.
“Just shut up and follow me,” Touka said. He’s only here because I asked him, so what’s with the attitude? Touka wondered to herself.
But Kaneki looked like he was used to it. “Got it,” he said.
“This is where we’re going?”
It was about fifteen minutes’ walk from Anteiku. They had arrived at a supermarket—a place that held no importance for Ghouls. Touka went in. The smell of human food made her feel like she was going to throw up, but she ignored it and pushed forward.
She stopped in the middle of the supermarket and looked back at Kaneki.
“So what should I buy?”
“Huh? Why would you …”
“I need stuff to put in a lunch!”
Kaneki stared blankly at her for a second, then immediately began laughing.
“Don’t laugh!”
“S-sorry! Okay, I get it, I understand.”
She hadn’t told him everything, but he still seemed to get the idea.
“We need something you can manage to eat that’s also rich and luxurious. There’s usually a few cooking magazines in the magazine racks at supermarkets, so maybe we should start there,” he said, and started walking with the idea that Touka would follow. Kaneki looked authoritative then, if only a little.
“Wow, guys, what’s all this?”
Hinami, who had been waiting at home, was wide-eyed in surprise at the sight of Touka and Kaneki, their arms full of bags from the supermarket.
“I’m going out tomorrow so I’m making packed lunches.”
“Lunches?”
“We’re going to make great ones. Uh, Touka, we’d better make what we can now. It might take a while, so maybe we should get started.” Kaneki pushed up his sleeves and opened the cookbook they’d bought, checking the instructions and arranging the ingredients.
“Can I help you guys?” Hinami said, sounding enthused. Touka passed her some ingredients, along with a large lunch box she’d bought.
“Okay, can you wash this for me?” she asked. Hinami nodded emphatically and turned on the faucet.
“Let’s start with the fried chicken.”
Kaneki measured the spices out and mixed them in a bowl. He added the chicken and covered it in the seasoning. His movements were clumsy, but he seemed to be following the book’s directions.
“Touka, can you get the potato starch ready for me?”
“Potato starch?”
“It’s that stuff. You put it on a plate.”
Touka, moving more clumsily than Kaneki, picked up the potato starch and nervously poured it out on a plate. She held the plate out to Kaneki, who grinned. He carefully took the chicken out of the marinade and rolled it in potato starch.
Watching Kaneki’s profile as he cooked felt somehow nostalgic to Touka.
As Touka and Kaneki kept cooking despite being out of their element, the dishes came together one by one.
“I feel like we’re doing pretty well at this.”
There were sandwiches, asparagus spears wrapped in bacon, an omelet, battered fish, and fried chicken.
The biggest difficulty was that they couldn’t taste any of it. But with who knows what in mind, Kaneki picked up a piece of the chicken and popped it in his mouth.
“Wait!”
“Kaneki?!”
“Whoa!”
And he spat it out immediately.
“Gross!”
“Are you all right?!”
Kaneki wiped at his tongue with a tissue handed to him by Hinami.
“I thought it looked so good! But it was awful—the batter was like mulch that’s been dragged through slime, and the meat was like chewing on a big, fat earthworm …” he groaned.
“Why on earth did you think it looked good?”
It was already past midnight, and the three of them had filled up the large lunch box with their cooking. Hinami rubbed her eyes occasionally out of sleepiness.
“I guess I was just remembering. Hah,” Kaneki muttered, looking at the lunch they were putting together. Before Touka could ask what he’d remembered, she saw his face. He looked like he was yearning for something, but it was deeply tinged with sadness.
They sat in silence.
It wasn’t so long ago that he had a very, very normal life as a human. Maybe this is the kind of lavish lunch he ate before it happened.
Who has it worse—someone who was never equipped with a function, or someone who had it and lost it?
Touka sighed, blowing air through her nose, and did not continue the conversation.
“There we go, all done!”
By the time everything was in place it was already one in the morning. Sleepiness had gotten the best of Hinami, who was asleep on the sofa.
“I’m sorry about earlier.”
It was the kind of phrase that could have started it all over again, but Kaneki smiled and said, “It’s all right.” He paused. “In this book I just read …”
“Don’t give me that. I want to hear what you think.”
They got along well, but that was the one thing in their way. Kaneki scratched his head and changed tactics. “Okay, well, it’s a line from a movie, but have you seen the movie Giant? It’s an American movie about a Texas ranching family. One of the characters says, ‘The best part about quarreling is making up.’”
Touka stared at him.
“I guess the movie’s based on a novel by a female writer called Edna Ferber.”
“And here we are back to books again!”
She gave him a kick instinctively, and Kaneki yelped in pain. But his expression softened and he spoke again.
“Hide and I used to fight over stupid stuff too. But we’re still friends. I hope it goes well tomorrow.”
Thanks for the encouragement. With those words, Kaneki left Touka’s house.
Touka lifted Hinami up from the sofa and carried her to bed. She listened to the sound of her breathing as she slept and smoothed her hair, then went back to the kitchen and looked at the finished lunch.
“God, that was a lot of work.”
How many hours altogether did we spend on making this lunch? And people do this day after day, three meals a day?
Is this how much time Yoriko always puts into her cooking?
Touka put the lid on the lunch box and closed her eyes. I can’t tell her how I feel in words, so I hope I can get it across in this form …
VI
“Looks like she’s home.”
At eight the next morning, Touka stood in front of Yoriko’s house. There were signs someone was in, but Touka couldn’t tell whether it was Yoriko or not. Nervously, she rang the doorbell.
“Helloooo … Touka?”
Yoriko’s mother answered first. Judging by her very surprised tone, Yoriko had probably told her that the planned zoo trip was off. Touka quickly bowed her head.
“Is Yoriko in?” she asked.
“I’m sorry, but she’s still asleep. Just a second, I’ll go wake her up.”
Yoriko’s mom padded off. Not a moment later, she heard a voice say, “Touka’s here?!” then a few minutes later, Yoriko appeared in her pajamas, combing through her hair with her hands.
“Touka?” she said, unable to hide her surprise. Touka said nothing and held out a bag to her.
“What’s this?”
“Lunch.” Yoriko looked up from the bag in surprise. Touka didn’t know how she should look as she met Yoriko’s eyes, but somehow she looked her straight in the eye.
“Let’s go to the zoo,” she managed to say. But unable to bear the emotion of the situation, she looked down. She waited for Yoriko to say something, but she gave absolutely no reply.
She’d thought that if she did something to make Yoriko happy then things would go back to normal, but perhaps it wasn’t that simple. Maybe I’ve made things worse, she thought, quickly feeling embarrassed by her own selfish behavior.
