by Shin Towada
“Huh? Hey, I’m pretty sure he’d kill me too, when it came down to it! Like I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t pass me up if he needed to eat, and he’s definitely not so fond of me that he wouldn’t sell me out to get something he wanted.”
“Oh, that is not want I wanted to hear! I mean if that’s the case for you, what’s that say for the rest of us?” There probably wasn’t much they could say or do in the face of such a fearsome foe. But that’s why the weak used weapons.
Weapons only they could wield.
Chie took out her smartphone and checked her email. “Ah!” There was one new message. She tried to hold the phone steady enough to read as she bumped and jostled about. “Yes! There it is!” she cried out, unable to resist doing a quick fist pump. “Ikuma, let’s get out of the 23rd Ward for now! If Ghoul investigators find us, someone like you is as good as dead!”
“Aha-hah. That’d be really sad if it weren’t also so true! Okay, which way?”
“Same as the original plan: to the 8th Ward hospital!”
“Got it!” Ikuma said, picking up speed.
As if sensing that something about their situation had changed, the look on Tsukiyama’s face shifted as well. “Oh, he looks so cool right now,” Chie muttered. “I wish I had a better angle!” She lined Tsukiyama up in her viewfinder and clicked the shutter.
Ikuma was looking understandably tired. They’d chosen a more secluded area, leapt up onto the rooftops, and kept running. Caught up in her emailing back and forth, Chie snapped back to attention as Ikuma uttered a panicked, “Uh-oh!”
Tsukiyama had closed a good chunk of the distance in one go. “Looks like it’s just about checkmate!” He’d once again manifested his Kagune, his sights set directly on them.
“Sorry about this!” Ikuma said as he hurled Chie and Mitsuba into a shrub with slender, leafy branches. He crossed his now-free arms and attempted to form a shield from his kagune, but he couldn’t keep up with Tsukiyama’s movements.
“You weakling!”
“Agh!” Ikuma was knocked back by Tsukiyama’s Kagune and slammed hard into a tree. Leaves scattered about, and a group of birds that had been resting in the branches fluttered off en masse.
“Now, then …” Tsukiyama fixed his red eyes on Mitsuba.
Ikuma managed to get back to his feet and tried to shield her, but Chie said, “It’s all right, Ikuma,” as she tugged her snagged clothing free of some branches and stood up.
She then faced Tsukiyama, set on trying to deal with him one final time. “Tsukiyama, I already told you, there are pictures I want to get of Mitsuba.”
Tsukiyama set a hand against his chest. “Ah, Hori, my friend. We’ve known each other only a short time, but your feelings reach me so well it almost pains me! I would love to be able to grant your wish,” he declared. “But I’ve been soft enough on you already!” His eyes showed not even a shadow of hesitation.
Mitsuba was visibly flustered, and Ikuma’s cheeks were drawn back, but Chie couldn’t really disagree with Tsukiyama’s assertion, and the look on her face showed it.
“My desires need to come first. My gourmet palate needs to come first! So you’ll just have to deal with that and let me fill my empty stomach. It’s my God-given right!” Tsukiyama stuck a hand out to brush Chie aside. Compared to Ghouls, humans really were quite powerless. “I’ll treat you to cheesecake sometime, my little mouse.”
But Chie still had her secret weapon. “I’m not interested in cake right now!” She took the smartphone she’d been fiddling with earlier and held it up for him to look at it. “I know you too well, Tsukiyama.”
Tsukiyama went stock-still, the text on the phone screen reflected in his eyes—a word that held a very special meaning for him.
“Kaneki”
Chie opened the email she’d gotten from him.
“Found it.”
There was a sudden whoosh through the air. Tsukiyama leapt quickly back as a new presence cast its shadow where he’d stood a moment before.
His white hair fluttered, the mask on his face leaving one strangely colored eye visible. Tsukiyama looked at him, flabbergasted.
“K-Kaneki?!”
It was none other than Ken Kaneki, whom Tsukiyama had set his sights on for so long.
Ikuma, a fellow resident of the 20th Ward, was clearly puzzled. “Huh? Kaneki?” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“Chie got in contact with me. She said she had some photos I was looking for, in exchange for my doing her a favor.”
“You want … pictures?”
“Yes. Ones necessary for my development, and which will demonstrate the atrocity of Ghouls even if I wind up getting killed,” Kaneki said. Tsukiyama eyed him keenly.
“And in my quest to get interesting photos, I’ve got a lot of pictures of Ghouls!” Chie said. She had sold several such photos of Ghouls to Kaneki before.
“Recently, I was able to have a little ‘chat’ with one of these individuals and got some very helpful information, so I thought it only fair to come and hear out Chie’s request,” Kaneki said, glancing down at Chie with a warm smile. “Whatever you need, just ask.”
The others turned their attention to Chie, clearly wondering what she possibly wanted to ask for. She allowed herself a smile. “From now on, if you’d like to use me for something, please get in touch with me through Tsukiyama!”
That didn’t seem to strike anyone as a suggestion that would resolve this situation, and the others’ eyes all went wide. “You want me to get in touch with you through Tsukiyama?” Kaneki asked.
“Sure, if you think I’d be of any use to you.”
“Of course. I’d certainly appreciate your assistance, but … why?”
In the back of her mind, Chie was sure that Kaneki was wondering why they’d need Tsukiyama as an intermediary when they were already in direct contact with each other. She folded her arms and said, “Because I’ll be able to get much better pictures that way.”
Kaneki tilted his head at first, but the smile soon returned to his face. “Very well,” he said with a nod, appearing satisfied that the agreement was to Chie’s benefit. “Tsukiyama,” he added as he turned away from Chie and the others. “I don’t know the details, but I believe Chie is on her way to take some pictures. I’d like you to see her and her friends there, safely.” And with that, Kaneki vanished into the night.
“What is the meaning of this, Hori?” Tsukiyama asked once Kaneki was out of sight, his eyebrows raised.
“I need your help to do what’s asked of me, Tsukiyama. Which means you’re that much more valuable now, right? I mean it’s not like I’ve asked for anything that’ll inconvenience you.”
Chie had gotten in touch with Kaneki first thing in the interest of helping Mitsuba escape. She’d figured that if she could curry favor with Kaneki by being useful, she could get Tsukiyama to give up his claim on Mistuba. And now, Tsukiyama could use Chie as a means of getting closer to Kaneki.
Tsukiyama, clever was he was, had probably weighed his options on the spot and realized which choice benefited him more. “Heh heh heh … Aha ha ha hah! Oh, you’re as clever as ever, you sneaky little rodent!” After he stopped laughing, his eyes narrowed to crescent slits. “Not bad.”
The issue had been resolved. “Man, I’m exhausted!” Chie said as she stretched her arms out. She then pointed her camera in the direction Kaneki had vanished and peered through the finder, muttering, “I totally get how you got so obsessed, Tsukiyama.”
“As my master has directed, I’ll see you there safely,” Tsukiyama said.
“The safest way would be if you weren’t with us,” Chie said in defiance of propriety.
“Ha ha ha. You really are a unique one,” Tsukiyama chuckled. “Then I shall go and ask Kaneki more details about what he’d like you to look into for him.” And with that, he departed, leaving
the others with a sense of relief at long last.
When Chie, Ikuma, and Mitsuba finally arrived at the hospital, the detective was there, wreathed in the scent of cigarette smoke. When he spotted Mitsuba, he approached her and asked, “Are you Kotone Mitsuba, miss?”
“Yes.”
“And is it correct that your older sister, Kiyone Mitsuba, went missing nine years ago, and that your mother is Kazene Mitsuba?”
“Yes, that’s … that’s right.”
Hearing that, the detective took something out of his coat pocket and showed it to Mitsuba. “This was among your mother’s belongings. Do you have any idea why that might be?”
In the detective’s hand was a toy microphone. Mitsuba’s lips trembled. “My … my sister loved that thing since she was little. She always carried it around with her as a sort of good-luck charm.”
A sorrowful look crossed the detective’s face. “I see …” he murmured. He then spoke briefly with some of the hospital staff before heading toward the patient rooms. “This way.”
He led them to a private room deeper within the hospital. The curtains were drawn, and it was dark, but the detective switched on the light near the pillow.
“Mother!” Mitsuba gasped as the light shone on the woman’s face. The girl drew herself in close, but whether because her mother’s condition was too poor or because she was simply sleeping, she gave no response.
The detective launched into an explanation. “A Ghoul named Koharu Utsumi, who’d kidnapped high school girls on the orders of Yujiro Utsumi, left behind the belongings of her victims. And not just those belonging to your sister, Kiyone Mitsuba.”
Mitsuba was sobbing so heavily that she may not even have heard him. Nevertheless, he continued. “But thanks to you, we now know your mother had one of your late sister’s belongings in her possession. Apparently, your mother acted as Koharu Utsumi’s caretaker and was quite fond of her. Perhaps she developed some affection for her while working for the Utsumi household.”
The sound of Mitsuba crying filled the small room as the detective spoke. “Perhaps Koharu realized that one of the high school girls she’d abducted had been her caretaker’s daughter, and had confessed by giving back one of her belongings. Your mother had a large sum of money set aside in order to make a getaway. Maybe Koharu gave her the microphone and told her to run, but your mother …” The detective stopped short, and then bowed his head deeply toward Mitsuba. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop your mother.”
Mitsuba, still clinging to her mother, slowly looked back up and then shook her head slightly. “Detective, you saved my mother after she tried to kill herself. I’d never have been able to see her again if not for that … I’m so happy to have even this.”
Mitsuba took her mother’s hand and pressed it against her cheek. Tears ran down her mother’s fingers, and Mitsuba’s breath washed over her skin.
“… right?” The voice was so quiet that it almost escaped notice. Surprised, everyone in the room looked around to see who had spoken, only to find that Mitsuba’s mother, who’d seemingly been asleep, had opened her eyes ever so slightly.
“Mother!”
“What are … you doing here?” It was now clearly her mother who spoke. Tears were welling up in her eyes.
“Mom? Do you … Do you know who I am?” Mitsuba asked, clutching her mother’s hand in hers.
“Of course I do,” her mother replied, nodding several times before saying, “You’re Kiyone …”
The detective started to correct her. “No, that’s—”
Mitsuba waved a hand to cut him off. “Yes, that’s right,” she told her mother with a smile. “I’m sorry for worrying you, mom. But I became an idol singer. I’m not famous or anything yet, but I made my dream come true! That’s why I came to see you, mom!” She clutched the toy microphone in her hand, a determined gleam set in her eyes. “Will you be one of my fans?”
Tears were streaming from her mother’s eyes. “Of course I will,” she replied.
Mitsuba embraced her mother tightly. “Thank you, mom,” she said.
Her mother showed a smile of utter relief at those words, and then slipped back into sleep. As she breathed gently, Mitsuba watched her with unwavering determination in her eyes.
She had clearly made some sort of decision.
Chie felt goosebumps all over her body. This was that sensation, that moment she’d been waiting for. Quietly, she readied her camera.
“From today onward,” Mitsuba said, “I will be ‘Kiyone.’ ”
Tears fell from her eyes as she spoke, and Chie clicked the shutter in order to capture that perfect moment.
V
“Whew! Well, that sure was quite the ordeal,” Chie said, back at the condo, thinking back on things as she stared at one of her photos on her computer—the photo of Mitsuba’s teary-eyed face. She’d gone through quite a bit to get that picture.
Apparently, Mitsuba’s mother’s memories were muddled. In addition to thinking that Mitsuba was her deceased older sister, she’d apparently forgotten about Mitsuba herself. Perhaps the hardships she’d been through had altered her recollections.
As Chie puttered about on her computer, an exasperated sigh broke the silence of the room. She turned to see Tsukiyama standing there. This was his condo, after all. He stepped inside without bothering to ask permission.
“Don’t worry. I’ll leave as soon as my phone’s finished charging,” Chie said as she chewed on some candy she’d gotten from Ikuma.
“No can do, I’m afraid,” Tsukiyama said. “Kaneki has a request for you, Hori.”
Kaneki, a man so exquisitely unbalanced that people couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Chie got to her feet. “Is that so?” she muttered. “Well, guess I’d better get to it!”
Chie called up the mental image of Kaneki in her mind.
She was certain that, someday, she’d be able to take a great picture of him.
This is something I can do for both of them.
Hinami heard the door open and shut with a clunk. She jumped to her feet from the sofa, where she had been lying down. While she’d been waiting, she’d been thinking about a lot of things. She must be lonely and sad too. Just like me. Hinami was at a loss as to how to fill this hole. But when we’re together she seems a little distracted.
“Touka!” Hinami exclaimed, clinging to Touka, who had just come out of her room. She buried her head in her chest. Touka gave her hair a stroke. Hinami looked up and saw that Touka was quietly smiling.
“What’s up with you, Hinami?” Touka said, and gave her a worried look. Concealing her own emotions, her face was one of pure concern for Hinami. “Wanna play a game?” she said, and went into the living room.
Hinami watched her walk off and started twisting her own shirt in her hands.
II
After the Aogiri battle, there had been an oppressive air hanging over Anteiku, although everyone had made it through safely. Perhaps the missing “piece” was much larger than themselves.
“Irimi, is Mr. Yoshimura all right?” Hinami asked, seeing Irimi coming out of the room where Yoshimura, the manager of Anteiku, was recuperating. Yoshimura had singlehandedly fought the CCG elites in order to buy time while they were rescuing Kaneki. He was heavily wounded.
Irimi gave her a gentle smile. “He’s just resting up so he can get better, so don’t worry,” she said.
“Oh. Will he get better soon?”
“Definitely. He’ll have the café up and going again in no time.”
Anteiku was temporarily closed at the moment. The door was shut, and the café, which was usually filled with a gentle buzz, was deserted.
But Koma, the big-nosed waiter who had been left in charge of the store while it was closed, was keeping things in good order so that the café could be reopened at any time. And the rooms that had been destroyed in the
Aogiri attack were still being repaired and would soon be restored to their former state.
“I guess you and Touka are gonna be really busy,” Hinami said casually. A faint shadow passed over Irimi’s face.
“Hinami, how’s Touka doing?”
“Um, well … same as always,” she answered.
Touka had gone into battle against the Aogiri Tree, fully prepared to die in order to save Kaneki, who had been kidnapped and imprisoned by them. Hinami thought that nobody had wanted to rescue Kaneki more than Touka, the young woman who let Hinami call her “big sister.”
She was often rather cold when it came to Kaneki, but she worried about him more than anyone else.
Hinami remembered seeing Touka immediately after Kaneki was kidnapped by Aogiri, pale-faced and shaking a little as Yoshimura told her that she should consider the fact that she may never see Kaneki again.
Bring Kaneki back and get back to normal. That was what everyone had wanted.
Hinami couldn’t fight like Touka could, but she’d learned from Irimi how to use her senses and had joined the fight by supporting everyone else. And then finally they’d succeeded in finding Kaneki, but—
It was like a novel by Sen Takatsuki, Hinami’s favorite author. There had been a conflict over something—conflicted emotions, misunderstood feelings, and a longed-for conclusion that never came to pass.
“Now things can go back to normal,” Touka had said, but Kaneki rejected that notion.
“I’m not going back to Anteiku.”
That was not all. Touka wanted to follow Kaneki if he was going to go his own way and do what he wanted to do, but he had rejected those feelings as well.
And then he’d taken off and left her there.
