Chapter Text
At first, Hide hadn’t noticed the new student in the cafeteria.
He supposed it was normal, seeing as it was the start of a new semester, there were obviously going to be new students, but as soon as he noticed him his attention was completely drawn to the quiet boy by the corner of the cafeteria.
His physical appearance was enough to call him over: Pale skin, white hair, medical eyepatch covering his left eye, leaving the other silver one exposed, and –while he wasn’t sure- Hide thought he noticed a few black nails. Coupled with his black outfit and frosty demeanor, the kid looked like he’d just walked out of a photo shoot for The Black Parade.
The boy was weird, and Hide liked weird.
Despite “having enough joy to be used as a nuclear weapon and single-handedly cure cancer” as Nishio had oh-so-eloquently put it, Hide didn’t actually have a huge mass of friends. He would usually start a conversation with anyone he met, but at the end of the day, he didn’t really have anyone to lay back and joke around with. Sure, he was surrounded by groups of people 24/7, but most of them were from the various committees he’d signed up for as a distraction from the drama that had been going on at home.
He shook his head as he told himself not to think about it.
Hide’s attention was snapped back to the boy as he noticed him being ganged up on by the local asshat bullies of the school, making the stereotypical threat of physical harm unless he handed over his money. The gang being led by none other Kirishima Ayato. Hide could never understand how a prick like him could be related to Touka (actually, now that he thought about it, there were quite a few similarities between the two, but in order to avoid a beating from the afore-mentioned barista, he’d keep his mouth shut), but he knew that if the new kid didn’t back away soon, he would be left with a painful souvenir of his first day of school.
Hide moved to break up the fight, but was caught off guard by the newbie laughing at the group’s threat, not even a nervous laugh or a confident chuckle, the kid was in full-on hysterics, gasping for air in between crazed giggles that echoed across the space.
“If you think you’re taking anything from me, then you’re dumber than I thought.” The words were muttered so coldly, but at the same time carried a note of childish glee that made Hide’s skin crawl, even Ayato looked slightly perturbed. Anyone with common sense would’ve backed away immediately and run home to hide under their covers.
Unfortunately for the human race, lots of today’s people lacked common sense, as demonstrated by Ayato’s lackeys.
“You honestly think a little bitch like you can take us down?” One of them sneered, he was tall, -no less than 1.75- with squinty eyes and partially bleached hair that was done in a bad copy of a Faux-Mohawk, an expression of amused disbelief on his face as he lifted a pierced eyebrow in a condescending manner, “I bet all the ladies are dying to date a scrawny shrimp like you!”
Eyepatch continued to smile in a way that made Hide want to put as much distance between the two of them as possible (he probably would’ve left the place by now if he didn’t have the almost suicidal urge to stick around to see what was going on).
“They do, but I prefer fucking your mom, so I don’t pay attention to them,” he replied, voice suddenly dropping ten degrees and losing the childish glee.
Hide was shocked, and by the look of things, so was everyone who’d heard Eyepatch’s remark, he couldn’t tell if the kid was delusional, masochistic, or just brave.
No one moved for a full minute in stupefied silence, until the lackey snapped out of his stupor into a crazed rage, bellowing a ”You little shit!” and grabbing the smaller boy by the collar so he could lift him up, fist drawn back, ready to paint the other’s skin black and blue.
Eyepatch was looking stunningly detached, as if he was watching a bug buzz its way around a room as it tried to find its way out. Then, like the flick of switch that silver eye hardened until the gaze was a cold, hard steel, as he muttered something under his breath, -Hide thought he heard the words, “crushed centipedes” though he wasn’t sure-.
Eyepatch lifted his right hand to be level with his face; and, using his thumb, cracked the knuckle of his index finger.
It was over too fast for Hide to process anything.
One moment, the new kid was two milliseconds away from getting pummeled into a paste, the next, Ayato’s lackeys were writhing on the floor in agony, with Eyepatch twisting the leader’s arm to the point that it looked like it was seconds away from getting snapped in two.
The new kid was whispering something into the other’s ear, too low for Hide to hear anything, but if Ayato’s reaction was anything to go by, it wasn’t anything pleasant, Eyepatch’s expression twisted into another childishly delighted smile, he looked like he was about to rip off the other’s arm, until a distant call of “Stop!” stole his attention.
Everyone turned around to see Koutarou Amon -the ward’s security guard, mostly responsible for breaking apart horny teens mid-make out session- charging his way through the crowd that had amassed in the area, followed by Yomo Renji (the school’s nurse, he was mostly quiet and rarely spoke unless necessary) and Mr. Yoshimura (the counsellor, almost everyone was fond of his gentle attitude that reminded you of a kind grandfather).
“You! Let go of your fellow classmate!” Amon ordered, pulling out a taser (Why was he carrying a taser?! The man was a college guard for crying out loud!!) and aiming it at Eyepatch, the boy just stared at the weapon blankly, before letting go of his victim’s arm – Ayato gasping in relief as he clutched his injured limb -.
As soon as the staff members were certain that the new kid wasn’t going to pull any tricks, Yomo got to work, tending the injured students and making sure that there weren’t any other injuries apart from broken bones.
Mr. Yoshimura pulled the white-haired boy aside and began to ask him questions while Amon worked on dispersing the crowd, Hide (luckily) got close enough to catch a few snippets of their conversation.
“Might I ask why you attacked Mr. Kirishima and his friends?” The old man questioned, tone calm and slow so as to not aggravate the student any more than necessary.
“They were bothering me… kept calling me names…” Eyepatch muttered, fingers shaking against each other as he pulled at his nails.
“It was my mistake to introduce you to a public setting so soon after you were discharged, I should’ve expected that the influx of other people would’ve put you on edge,” Mr. Yoshimura susurrated, as he began to lead the younger out of the room to who-knows-where.
“We’ll have to isolate you for a little while longer, it seems,” the change was instantaneous, the boy’s pupil dilating as he began to shake and hyperventilate, alternating between gripping strands of his hair and digging his nails into his arms.
“Don’t take me! Don’t take me! I don’t wanna go into the room! Please! Not the chair! Please! Please no!” The boy wailed, words mixing together as he descended further and further into his breakdown, too far for even Mr. Yoshimura to snap him out of it.
Eventually, Yomo and Amon had to intervene by restraining the boy and sedating him, frantic movements turning sluggish as his body surrendered to the medication in his veins.
Yomo lifted the boy into his arms and took him out of the room in the direction of the infirmary. Leaving the other two staff members muttering to each other, Hide only able to catch snippets.
“I don’t understand… keeping him here… menace to all the other students! How do we know… disrupting everything?” The security guard grumbled, expression annoyed and confused.
“…continue his studies… stable enough by his doctors… institution… pressure on him… responded the way he did.” Mr. Yoshimura replied, somehow unaware of the eavesdropping student until Amon’s uncanny sixth sense caught notice of him.
“Hey! What are you still doing here? Get back to class!”
The startled film making major took off running, heading away from the cafeteria and into the street, he had one hour free since the Festival Planning Committee cancelled this week’s meeting, and he decided to go somewhere more relaxing to process what he’d seen.
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Anteiku was, like usual, pretty deserted this time of day, since most students would be busy with clubs or partying, and Rush Hour wasn’t for another thirty minutes. Hide sat down on one of the barstools close to the kitchen, looking out for any traces of the purple or orange haired-baristas he called friends.
A slap to the back of the head had him jumping in surprise with a yelp as he rubbed the aggravated area.
“Look at that, Shittychika finally graces us common mortals with his presence,” an annoyed voice drawled, Hide let out a small chuckle before turning around to face the exasperated barista.
“Yeah, I figured you commoners could entertain me with your beverages and snacks,” Hide replied, voice switching to a snooty tone as he raised his head in a petulant manner to look down at Nishiki.
The barista scoffed, re-adjusting his glasses as he moved behind the bar, “I’m surprised you even knew half of the words you used in that sentence,” the man grumbled, grabbing a spare cup and filling it out with some of the remaining batches of coffee from a previous customer.
“Anyways, what are you doing here? Finally remember how to be a decent friend and came to pay me a visit?” Nishiki asked in his usual sarcastic manner, passing Hide his drink as he sat down on the stool next to him.
“Do I get a discount if I say yes?” Hide questioned, blowing on his coffee before taking a quick sip (still as good as ever).
“No.”
“Then no, I just came here to use your services as a supplier of food,” Hide answered, grabbing one of the cookies on the counter and taking a bite (with all the stuff that had gone down in the cafeteria he’d forgotten to eat, and was quite honestly starving).
“Okay then, what gives? You usually only come here during the weekend or when you have an exam and need the caffeine, and last time I checked, it’s Wednesday and we’re still in January.”
Hide took a small breath before replying to the inquiry, “You heard about the new kid at school?”
Nishiki lifted a confused eyebrow, but went along with it, “From what I heard, the kid has some behavioral issues and looked like he could put all of 2004 out of business, what does that have to do with you coming here in the middle of the week?”
“He got cornered by some of Ayato’s gang today after school,”
Nishiki’s expression was a fine balance of puzzlement and irritation.
“So the guys threatened the guy, he thought he could stand for himself and then got the ever-loving shit beaten out of him, nothing new, now are you gonna answer me or just keep Houdini-ing your way out of answering?”
“Turns out the kid has more going to him than we thought, he figuratively and literally, handed their asses to them,” Hide replied, taking another sip of his coffee and gauging the other’s reaction.
Very few things ever impressed Nishiki, the guy always had a dismissive expression regardless of who he was talking to or what he was doing, (unless his girlfriend Kimi was involved), so seeing his face break its traditional mold to make an expression that could only be described as ‘absolutely flabbergasted’ made Hide break down into near hysterical laughter.
“Wait a goddamn second, you’re telling me, Ayato Kirishima, king of Kamii University, and the guy who picks fights with people like he drops out of classes, got taken down by a scrawny twig who probably drowns in eyeliner and cries every time someone plays a g-note on the piano?!” Nishiki’s voice was full of disbelief and a tone that Hide had learned to recognize as his ‘quit-this-fucking-bullshit-right-now-before-I-send-you-to-the-hospital’ tone.
“Yeah, and in less than a minute, you don’t believe me, ask the dude himself, or even Amon, he had to break up the fight before Eyepatch ripped off someone’s arm.”
“Eyepatch? Really?”
“He was wearing a medical eyepatch over his left eye and I wasn’t able to ask his name in between him annihilating Ayato’s group, what else was I supposed to call him? ‘Edgy McEdgelord’?”
Nishiki snorted, “To be fair, Eyepatch does sound like the name of a vigilante or something, god knows I wouldn’t want to be stuck with a name like ‘Edgy McEdgelord’,” the barista replied. Taking Hide’s now empty cup and placing it in the sink to be washed later.
Just as he was about to reply with more ideas for the new kid’s vigilante alter ego, the ringing of the bell at the entrance interrupted him, both males turned around to see an out-of-breath Touka stepping into the café. Removing her scarf from around her neck, the purple-haired student walked over to the two boys and sat down on Hide’s right side, gulping some water from a plastic bottle she’d bought with her.
“What took you so long, too busy shoving a stick up your ass?” Nishiki teased, not missing one chance to call out anything when it came to his rival.
The other glared at him, focusing on thinking up a comeback as she got her breath back, Hide decided to play peacekeeper and diffuse the situation before they broke another table (that had been fun to explain to the manager).
“I-I’m sure that whatever you were doing was important,” he stumbled to reply, (Touka’s stare was intimidating enough on a normal day, her glare could probably stop entire armies right in their tracks.)
Touka sighed, forgoing her shouting match with Nishiki to answer the question, taking another large gulp from her water bottle before answering, “It was chaotic, there was this new kid who had a breakdown in the cafeteria and sent the asshats to the infirmary, so I had to run in between the infirmary and Mr. Yoshimura’s office running errands.”
Touka was somewhat akin to an assistant, running small errands between the different staff members, (her main job was bringing paperwork or coffee to and from the offices, as well as the occasional memo.) She mostly focused on the infirmary, the art department and the counsellor’s office, since they were close together and the staff was constantly interchanging paperwork between each other (apparently they were all old friends from their college days, so they kept in touch).
“Oh?” Hide questioned, noticing Nishiki’s expression dissolve into poorly-disguised shock as he recalled the news that he’d heard earlier, “Yeah, I saw it happen, I’ve never seen anyone get taken down so quickly before, it looked like something out of a martial arts film.”
The barista scoffed, “I can imagine, it was hell with me trying to pass reports of the gang’s condition as well as Edge’s,”
“Edge?”
“I mean, have you seen the kid? I don’t even wanna imagine how many notebooks filled with dark poetry he has at home.”
Hide couldn’t help but snort at that, after all, it was probably true.
“Did you at least catch his name?” Nishiki inquired, probably trying to get the scoop for the university’s news blog.
“Kaneki Ken, according to the file. He looked like a nice guy, doesn’t seem like someone who’d cause such a riot,” Touka said, neither she nor Nishiki noticing how Hide’s face had paled at the mention of the boy’s name.
Kaneki Ken. Images of a shy raven-haired boy flitted through Hide's mind.
The same Kaneki Ken whom Hide had spent countless hours chatting about the most inane things, the same kid who could go on and on about one chapter in a book for hours on end, the same kid whom Hide would comfort every day after school when either his aunt or the bullies got to him, the same kid who would rather sit down and talk about some other than subject than ever say a mean word about anyone, the same Kaneki who had been Hide’s best and only friend throughout his entire childhood.
Hide remembered that Kaneki, the quiet, gentle bookworm with black hair and soft grey eyes that transfixed Hide just by holding eye contact. He remembered how much fun his days got when he saw him. He remembered caring and protecting him.
Hide had no clue how to feel about this Kaneki.