“Huh?”
“Like I just said—let’s just forget about the zoo for a while, okay?”
On their break, Touka had spoken to Yoriko, thinking that her friend would talk to her like usual, but instead Yoriko wiped the slate clean, plans and all.
“You changed your mind all of a sudden?”
“Look, I realized eventually that I shouldn’t have asked you without taking your schedule into account,” she said. Yoriko paused. “So next time—next time we’ll go whenever you can take the time. Okay?”
She’d said “next time.” But Touka sensed that the truth was there wouldn’t be a next time if things went on like this.
“No, there’s no need to cancel—can’t we just stick to what we planned?”
“Nope. I can see it now, I was way out of line.”
Touka fell silent, realizing that whatever she said made no difference.
“See, she won’t even say she wants to go,” said Mayuhara mockingly. She had been observing them. Touka turned to look at her. “Oooh, scary,” Mayuhara said, in an affected manner. Her friends giggled.
“Trying to say something to Yoriko again?” Touka growled.
“Of course not. Just saying what I thought …”
Touka made a move toward her, but Yoriko stopped her.
“Next time—we’ll go next time. Right?”
Yoriko’s weak smile made Touka’s heart hurt. She always used to smile at me so warmly.
“Yoriko …”
It can’t go on like this, Touka thought. But she couldn’t get the words to come out right.
“Class is about to start! Get to your seats!”
The teacher appeared before Touka could say anything, and then class started.
After school that day, Yoriko left before Touka, saying she had an errand to run. Touka went and stood in front of Mayuhara and her friends, who were gathered around the window of the classroom.
“Oh, Kirishima, not going home with your little friend today?” Mayuhara asked in mock concern once she noticed Touka was there. The girls were watching Yamamoto’s team play out on the field.
“What did you say to Yoriko?”
“What? What are you talking about?” Mayuhara twirled her hair with her finger, playing dumb.
“I asked you, what did you say to Yoriko?” Touka asked in a low tone tinged with murder. Perhaps instinctively sensing how bad this could be, Mayuhara let her hair slip from her fingers. Her eyes flitted around among her friends.
“Nothing. All I said was that it really didn’t seem like you wanted to go to the zoo,” she said, then paused. “Kirishima, you didn’t really want to go, did you? Because if you’d actually wanted to go, and I said that, then you could’ve easily told Kosaka, ‘I do want to go.’”
The other girls murmured words of agreement and support for Mayuhara.
“The same with the lunches Kosaka makes, and all sorts of other stuff. Anyone can see you don’t really want to be her friend! If you don’t want an outsider calling you out on it, then maybe you should change your attitude? And don’t take it out on m—”
A loud bang rang out. Mayuhara was speechless; her friends were left breathless. Touka’s fist had gone just past Mayuhara’s cheek and connected with the window frame.
What the hell do you know?! Touka was screaming inside. It’s all because I can’t eat, because I could be a target at any time, all because I’m a Ghoul!
No matter how much I try, there’s a wall I can never jump over, and there’s happiness that I can never have. But I’m still hanging on to life. Despite it all.
Mayuhara slid down to the ground on the spot where she’d stood.
“Want to be next?” Touka said, glaring at her and each of her friends in turn.
“I have nothing else to say, so don’t, bitch.”
Leaving Mayuhara crumpled on the floor, Touka left the classroom.
“Didn’t even get to see the baby animals …”
Touka walked alone, looking at the map of the zoo that Yoriko had given her.
Would it have made a difference if I’d said, “But I want to go,” when Yoriko told me she was calling it off?
“Hey, Touka. How was school?”
When she got to Anteiku, Kaneki said hello to her happily, not taking note of her mood.
Irritated, she told him to shut up. Kaneki tilted his head and asked, “What’s up?”
Touka said nothing.
Kaneki watched her for a little while before asking, quietly, “Did something happen with you and Yoriko?”
She was shaking with anger. She balled her hands into fists.
“And what the hell is it to you?” she shouted.
The customers all turned to look at the same time, and silence fell on the café.
“What is going on here, Touka?” This time it was Yoshimura, who was at the counter, who asked.
“Uh … I’m so sorry …”
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?