Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Haise knew he wasn’t exactly a normal person. It wasn’t that he had an odd appearance or acted strangely. To anyone else, he was just another university student, polite and soft-spoken, blending into the crowd.

But deep down, he knew something wasn’t quite right.

There were gaps in his memory, days, sometimes weeks, that he couldn’t recall. His skin bore scars he didn’t remember getting. He’d wake up in unfamiliar places wearing clothes he didn’t remember putting on, his fingers raw and aching as if he had spent hours clawing at something unseen.

And then there were the voices.

Low whispers that slithered into his ears, tugging at the corners of his mind. Some were gentle murmurs, others sharp and demanding. Sometimes, when the world got too quiet, he would hear the distinct crack of knuckles that didn’t belong to him.

When he was younger, he thought he had been possessed. A ghost, a demon, something had to be haunting him. How else could he explain losing time? The first time he’d blacked out and woken up with blood under his nails, he had cried for hours, terrified of himself.

Was he going insane?

Maybe. But there was no use dwelling on it. He had learned to function, to pretend. He got through high school, even excelled in his studies. He picked literature as his major at Kamii University because stories were easier to understand than himself. His life wasn’t fine, but he had control, some fragile semblance of normalcy.

Until he saw him.

Haise wasn’t sure what happened. One moment, he was sitting in his usual spot, pen in hand. The next, his body felt wrong. A jolt of something electric ran through his limbs, and the world blurred.

When he blinked, the class had ended.

His glasses were missing. His breath was uneven.

And the blonde was waving at him, his voice bright and familiar.

“See ya, Kaneki!”

The name hit him like a punch to the gut. His stomach twisted.

Who was that?

He forced a polite smile, raising a hand in an awkward wave. For appearance’s sake. For survival.

Then he turned and fumbled through his bag with shaking hands, finding his glasses buried beneath his books. He shoved them onto his face, but the distortion of his vision wasn’t the issue. His eyes burned. His throat felt raw.

And in his mind, someone was screaming.

—

Haise didn’t know about them.

And they would make sure he never did.

Naïve, sweet, and innocent Haise didn’t deserve to remember. He was untouched and unafraid, the most functional of them all. He could live. That was the deal, the silent agreement between them.

But then he walked in.

“Hide…”

The moment that familiar figure entered the classroom, Neki had started sobbing. His tiny form curled up in the inner world, hands clutching his knees, rocking himself as the memories surged forward. He was only a child, but he carried the unbearable weight of their past.

And he remembered.

Hide’s laughter. Hide’s warmth. Hide’s promise to be together forever, a promise that had been broken the day Kaneki disappeared.

The desperate need to reach him overwhelmed them. Neki had pushed forward, fronting for mere minutes, body shaking as he clung to Hide. “I missed you,” he had whispered, voice thick with tears, burying himself in the comfort of his childhood friend. Hide had frozen at first, confused, before wrapping his arms around him.

“I missed you too, buddy.”

But Neki was too fragile to hold control.

Ken had taken over, composing himself just enough to keep Hide from asking too many questions. To pretend. That’s what he was good at.

He had forced a grin. “It’s been a while, man!”

Hide’s golden eyes flickered with something unreadable. “I searched for you everywhere,” he admitted. “It was like you disappeared into thin air.”

Ken’s smile didn’t falter, but inside, he felt the weight of a thousand ghosts pressing against him.

If only Hide knew how right he was.

“You know how it is, man. I’ve been… around,” Ken said with a chuckle, forcing lightness into his voice.

It felt strange coming from his mouth, like something borrowed, like something not his. But Hide didn’t seem to notice. Good. Maybe, if he played this right, the conversation could stay normal. Maybe nothing had to—

“How’s your aunt?”

His breath hitched.

The words sank their teeth into him, dragged him back.

He saw the empty dinner table, the untouched second plate she never bothered setting, the walls that swallowed his cries whole. The cold bathroom tiles, the sting of too-hot water on his skin, washing away the evidence of another lonely night.

Dangerous.

The voice slithered through his mind; sharp, edged. Black Reaper. A warning. A command.

Ken swallowed thickly. He forced a shrug. Casual. Normal. Just answer. “She’s fine. I’m staying with other family members now.”

A clean lie. One he had told before.

Arima. The man who had found him. Who had seen what was left of him, wide-eyed, shaking, caged in his own mind, and decided to keep him. Mado, his sister, another orphan Arima had taken in, her own past just as bloodstained.

They were a family. Or something like it.

“Cool,” Hide said, still smiling, still effortless. “The glasses are new.”

“They’re for resting.”

He took them off, turning them over in his hands; lightweight, familiar, grounding. He handed them to Hide without thinking.

Predictably, Hide put them on immediately. He adjusted them on his nose, struck a dramatic pose. “How do I look?”

Ken blinked.

The grin was so Hide, so unapologetically him, that for a moment, everything went still.

Beautiful.

Sassan thought the word before she could stop herself. She was the only female alter, bubbly and flirtatious, often at the worst possible moments.

And maybe, just maybe, she had said it out loud.

Hide’s sudden burst of laughter made Ken jolt. “Thanks, man!” he grinned, completely unfazed.

Ken felt heat rush to his face. Damn it. He snatched the glasses back and shoved them to the bottom of his backpack, hoping Hide wouldn’t notice the way his hands trembled.

Before he could dwell on it, the professor strode into the classroom, voice cutting through the hum of chatter. “All right, class, settle down.”

Chapter Text

Haise Sasaki.

That was his name.

So why had that blonde called him Kaneki?

The question gnawed at him as he walked to the metro, lingering even as he stepped through the front door of his home. He felt raw, like an open wound, nerves exposed, everything too bright, too loud.

He didn’t like it.

His mind was a cacophony of sounds. A child’s muffled sobs. Someone screaming in rage. Mocking laughter curling at the edges of his thoughts. The words blurred together, unintelligible but suffocating.

He inhaled shakily and forced his voice into something steadier. “I’m home.”

“Welcome back. How was school?” Arima’s voice came from the kitchen, calm as always. A coffee cup rested in his hand.

“Good,” he lied, moving to prepare his own coffee.

Finally. I’m starving. A voice rasped in the back of his mind. He ignored it.

“How was work?” He changed the subject.

“Uneventful.”

“Mado?”

“She’s doing extra hours.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, gripping his coffee as if it grounded him. “I’ll be studying,” he said quickly before retreating to his room.

He loved his father. He really did. But sometimes, his presence made his skin crawl.

He climbed the stairs on autopilot. Sometimes, it felt like he was only a passenger in his own body, watching, observing, detached. Like he wasn’t the one moving, speaking, existing.

His head ached. His vision blurred. Maybe I just need a minute.

He set his coffee on the bedside table, rubbed his eyes, and let himself collapse onto the bed.

Just a minute…

—

Ghoul opened his eyes.

He was starving.

Coffee. That was the only thing that kept him going, and he wasn’t about to let Haise have it. He needed it like air, like something vital.

He ran a hand through his hair. The body had black hair with white tips and dark eyes, but in the inner world, his hair was pure white, and his irises burned red. It was uncanny to look so different from what the world saw. He avoided mirrors when he could.

His mind flickered to Hide.

He didn’t know him. Not like Neki or Ken did. He hadn’t been there before the incident. He was born from it. He had no memories of Hide beyond what the others whispered. A friend, Ken had told him once. A weakness, Ghoul had thought in return.

We have Hide. Sweet, not-so-innocent Neki whimpered in the back of his mind.

“Friends are a liability,” Ghoul muttered. His purpose was to protect the body, protect them. Friends weren’t necessary for that. If anyone found out Haise wasn’t alone in his own head… They’d be institutionalized. Treated like a problem to be fixed.

I liked him. Sassan’s voice drifted in, airy and amused. He was nice.

Ghoul could picture her perfectly, their only female alter. Shoulder-length white hair, soft bangs, dark eyes framed by long lashes. She liked keeping their nails done.

Thinking about nails…

Ghoul reached under the bed, pulling out the black nail polish he kept hidden. He started painting them with slow, careful strokes.

Ugh, really? Reaper groaned.

“Yup,” he replied, smirking as he continued making the body better.

Haise will notice. Ken warned. 

Ghoul scoffed. “He can suck my dick.” Like hell he was going to let that weakling dictate his life.

Besides, after what happened with Hide, it was only a matter of time.

They wouldn’t be able to stay hidden forever.

Chapter Text

Sassan didn’t get to be in control of the body as often as she wanted.
The others didn’t like how she dressed, too feminine, they complained.

It makes us stand out, Ken had admonished.
So, she avoided dresses and skirts, even if they looked hella cute on her. Instead, she leaned into a more androgynous style, which helped with her gender dysphoria.

Mentally, she thanked Ghoul for painting their nails, which made her feel more at ease in the body.
Still, she was content to be out for a while; it felt like she could finally stretch her legs after spending so long in the inner world.

When she entered the classroom, she immediately spotted an empty seat at the far back. She took it, only to notice a girl with shoulder-length brown hair smiling at her.

“Hey, girl. Love your outfit,” Sassan said honestly.

The girl blushed and sheepishly rubbed the back of her head.
“You think so? Thank you! I’m Kimi Nishino, by the way.”

“Haise Sasaki,” she replied, though the name still felt foreign on her tongue.

They made small talk throughout the class and exchanged numbers for a group project. Sassan was ecstatic, finally, a girlfriend . The guys tried to understand her, but never fully could. Being the only girl was exhausting.

Days passed, and eventually, Ken agreed to let her take control on Tuesdays, whenever they had that specific class with Kimi. She was so happy she could cry, but she didn’t.

They became close, texting often (though she could only reply when she was fronting). Haise never noticed the chat log, he barely used the phone anyway, like some old man who only made calls.

They gossiped about fashion, makeup, and boys. Kimi told her about her boyfriend, Nishiki. Sassan mentioned she had her eye on a blond-haired boy. They laughed and even went out to coffee shops together.

Kimi was kind . She didn’t get mad when Sassan dissociated, or, as she usually excused herself, “spaced out.” She’d even slipped a few times and used female pronouns, but Kimi never called her out. She was Sassan’s first real friend.

And she was content.
So, of course, it couldn’t last.

-

She was walking home from class when she ran into Hide .
Truthfully, she’d been avoiding him like the plague. She didn’t have the mental energy to unpack all the trauma he unknowingly triggered.

“Kaneki!”
That damn name.

Her mind grew fuzzy as Ken effortlessly pushed forward.

“Hey, man,” Ken said, trying to play it cool.

Hide was out of breath from running to catch up.
“I haven’t seen you in class.”

They’d been skipping that class ever since the last encounter. No one needed to know. They were smart, they could catch up.

“Got the flu,” Ken lied.

“That sucks. Oh, Nishiki!” Hide waved at a tall guy with blond hair and glasses who was carrying a stack of books.

“Hide, help me out with this,” the man said, shoving a few books into Hide’s arms.

“He’s in our campus. Older than us,” Hide explained.
Then he turned to Ken. “And who’s that?”

Rude.

“Oh! That’s K—”

“Haise Sasaki. A pleasure,” Ken interrupted, extending his hand.

Nishiki shook it with a firm, almost painful, grip. Asshole , Sassan thought.

Hide gave him a strange look but didn’t comment on the name.

“Where to?” he asked.

Nishiki gestured for them to follow.

They walked down a deserted alleyway. Instantly, Ghoul stirred, co-conscious, alert.

A loud bang.
Nishiki kicked Hide square in the head.
He dropped like a stone.

“Hide!” Ken shouted, dropping to his knees beside his friend.

“What the fuck?!” he snarled at Nishiki.

“What? You wanted an audience?”

The taller man grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him upright. Ken could feel Ghoul pushing harder for control. But Ghoul was too extreme. If he could just defuse the situation, maybe they could grab Hide and run.

Nishiki punched him. Hard.

His nose gushed blood. His ears rang. Pain bloomed behind his eyes.
Ghoul roared .
Neki was crying.
Reaper rolled his eyes.
Centipede laughed and laughed and laughed.

“What’s your problem?!” Ken yelled, trying to keep control.

“Stay away from my girlfriend.”

“Who?”

Another punch, this time to the gut. Ken doubled over, gasping.

Fuck. Fuck.

“You’ve been way too friendly with Kimi. She’s a kind-hearted girl, so of course she gave a chance to the weirdo .”

Ken swung a punch, but Nishiki sidestepped him easily.

“I mean, Haise Sasaki doesn’t even exist.”

“ Shut up! ”
Haise was real. Ken had fought tooth and nail to make him real.

Nishiki laughed , kicking him again. Ken blocked with his arm and felt it nearly dislocate from the impact.

“Ken Kaneki. I googled you.”

Ken stopped breathing.

Blood. He could smell it.
He could hear that voice again.

What’s a thousand minus seven?

“Kidnapped at a young age. Tortured. Rescued. But I read something interesting—”

“Stop talking,” Ken begged.
It was too much.

Memories crashed down like waves.
The chair. The checkered tiles. The restraints. The screams.

“Ghoul child. That’s what they called you.”

He shut his eyes.

“You ate him. I don’t want a cannibal near my girlfriend. You hear me, freak?”

Another kick.
Ken barely felt it. His mind drifted far from his body. He watched everything from above.

Then, Nishiki placed a foot on Hide’s head.

“Were you planning on eating him too?”

—

“Hey! Are you reading by yourself again?”
A child's voice.
He looked up.

“You’re always reading alone.”

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t mean it like that… I just moved here. I don’t have any friends yet. So! Want to be friends with me?”

Brown eyes.
Hide.
His only friend.

—

“Get your foot off him,” Ghoul said. He was front and ready.

“Or what?”

He launched without hesitation.
He didn’t train in boxing matches, but he knew how to fight, and he wasn’t above dirty fighting.

He tackled Nishiki to the ground and straddled him. Saliva pooled in his mouth as he bit into the man’s arm, moaning at the taste of blood.

God , he missed this.

He swallowed the flesh as Nishiki screamed.

“You—you crazy motherfucker!”

Ghoul grabbed his throat, choking him.

“I’ll die! Stop!”

He didn’t stop.

Nishiki turned red. Then purple.
His eyes bulged.
He stopped moving.

Ghoul looked at Hide’s unconscious body.
Maybe he could eat him too…

“Hey!” A female voice.

He turned with a snarl.

“I know Nishiki’s an asshole, but he doesn’t deserve to die.”
A girl with short purple hair narrowed her eyes at him.

“Who are you?”

“Touka Kirishima. I’m trying to help.”

Danger still buzzed in the air. Adrenaline ran high. His mouth dripped with blood.
Ken pushed forward again. Ghoul stepped back.

“He needs medical attention,” Touka said.

Ken sighed.
“You gonna call the cops?”
They were so screwed.

“No. I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“I know Nishiki. He started it. I’m not calling the cops.”

He glanced back at Hide.
“Hide is hurt.”

Touka nodded. “You carry him. I’ll take Nishiki.”

Ken lifted Hide into his arms.
“Where to?”

“Anteiku.”

Chapter Text

Apparently, Anteiku was a coffee shop.

Not the suspicious kind, either. It was warm, cozy even, like stepping into a memory that didn’t belong to him. The scent of roasted beans lingered in the air, layered with hints of cinnamon and vanilla. Wooden furniture gave the place an old charm, while the soft jazz played in the background.

Ken sat stiffly on a chair near the window, still trembling from the alley incident, clothes soaked in sweat and someone else’s blood. Ghoul had receded for now, but the taste still lingered on his tongue, sharp and metallic. Across from him, Nishiki lay sprawled on the long couch, bandages hastily wrapped around his arm. He was unconscious, barely, but still breathing. Lucky bastard.

Hide, meanwhile, sat propped against a wall with a thick cloth wrapped around his head. A gash above his right brow still trickled blood, though someone had tried to clean it up. He was still unconscious. 

Touka moved around the space like she belonged there, efficiently tending to injuries, boiling water for coffee, occasionally grumbling under her breath about Nishiki being a “stupid, jealous idiot.” Her movements slowed when she finally approached Ken.

“Are you calm now?” she asked, watching him closely.

Ken nodded, even though his hands were still shaking.

She didn’t press further. Instead, she gestured toward the bar counter where an older man had been quietly observing. White-haired, tall, with a kindly expression and the kind of aura that made you forget to be afraid.

“This is Kuzen Yoshimura,” Touka said. “He’s my boss. And my adoptive father, I guess.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Sasaki-kun,” Yoshimura said gently, stepping forward. His voice was smooth, patient, too patient. “I heard a bit about what happened. You’ve been through quite a lot.”

Ken’s body tensed at the man’s tone. Something about it was clinical. Too understanding.

“I used to work as a psychiatrist,” Yoshimura added, smiling knowingly. “I imagine that makes you uncomfortable. But I’m not here to evaluate you, only to offer help. From one survivor to another.”

Ken’s heart skipped. He didn’t like how much this man knew, or seemed to. Still, his voice wasn’t accusatory. It was the kind you wanted to believe.

“How do you… know about me?” he asked cautiously.

“Your case was very famous, although because you were underage, they tried to cover it up.”

Ken didn’t answer. He was too busy wondering how long this peace would last, and whether Hide was truly asleep, or pretending. And somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, Sassan was quietly asking if they were safe. If this could be a real home. If they could just… rest.

But no one rested for long in their world.

—

Hide didn’t know what had happened to Kaneki.

Not exactly.

He had pieces, fleeting things. A different tone in his voice. A look in his eyes that didn’t feel like it belonged. Touka calling him Sasaki, and Ken not correcting her. That was new. That was… telling.

And that voice in the alley.

Not angry, not cruel, just different. Like something deep had cracked open and someone else had stepped out.

Still, it hadn’t scared Hide.

Confused him, sure. Hurt a little, yeah. But fear? No.

Because underneath all of it, he knew his friend. Knew the way Kaneki fiddled with his sleeves when he was nervous. Knew the way he always listened too closely, like he wanted to disappear into other people’s words. Knew the boy who used to lend him books and underline the saddest lines, like he was trying to find his own pain between the pages.

That hadn’t changed. Maybe other things had, but not that.

So Hide kept his eyes closed, letting the warmth of the bandages press gently against his forehead. He could hear them talking a few feet away, whispering like he was still out cold.

He didn’t move.

He wasn’t ready yet. Not because he didn’t want to be there for Ken, but because he did. Because if Ken was going through something, whatever it was, however messy or painful or impossible, Hide didn’t want to make it worse by rushing in like an idiot.

He’d wait.

He’d stay still for now. Let his friend have space, let him breathe.

And when the moment came, when Ken wanted to talk, when he reached out. 

Hide would be there. No matter what name he used. No matter what had happened.

He was his best friend.

Chapter Text

Haise woke up with bruises and the taste of blood in his mouth.

At least he was at home.

The sunlight crept gently through the curtains of his room, warm and innocent against the ache blooming beneath his skin. He blinked up at the ceiling, a dull throb humming behind his eyes, and tried to piece together how he’d ended up here.

His clothes were thrown over the back of a chair. His glasses he wasn’t wearing them. 

He sat up slowly, wincing as his body protested. Something had happened. Something in an alley. A fight? His memories were splintered, flashes of movement, shouting, blood. A voice. Not his.

Before he could dwell on it, his phone buzzed.

Kimi Nishino:

I know what happened last night. I’m so sorry for what Nishiki did.

If you’re okay with it, can we talk? There’s a park nearby. Around noon?

Haise stared at the screen. The name sparked nothing. But her tone was sincere.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Whoever this Kimi was, she clearly knew him, or thought she did. And she’d mentioned Nishiki. The name tugged at something uncomfortable inside his chest. A fight, maybe? Was that who he’d fought?

With little else to go on, he dressed quietly, slipped on his black coat, and left for the park.

Kimi was already there when he arrived, seated on a bench beneath the shade of a tall, leaning tree, clutching a coffee in both hands like it might keep her steady. She stood when she saw him, worry flickering in her eyes.

“Hey… Haise?”

“That’s me,” he replied cautiously.

There was a beat of silence. She tilted her head, brow furrowing slightly. “You… seem different.”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek before answering. “I don’t know, it’s like… your whole vibe changed. You used to be so... light? A little dramatic, honestly. You wore your hair differently, and you used weird nicknames for me. I thought it was endearing, kind of charming in a silly way. But now—” She looked him up and down. “Now you’re quieter. Heavier.”

Haise stood there, unsure how to respond. None of this felt familiar. She wasn’t lying, her confusion was too raw, too honest. But he didn’t remember her. Not her, not their supposed friendship, not anything she’d just described.

“I read some messages,” he said, voice low. “They made it sound like we were close. I just… I don’t remember. I don’t remember you or the fight you’re talking about. I don’t remember acting like that.”

Kimi’s expression softened, though her worry didn’t fade. “Are you sure you're okay?” she asked. “You just feel like a completely different person.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. 

They parted ways with quiet goodbyes, neither of them satisfied, both leaving with more questions than answers.

That night, Haise slept with the covers pulled tight.

And when he opened his eyes again…

The world was black and white.

A vast space stretched around him, tiled like a chessboard that went on forever, cold and endless beneath his bare feet. Above him, a black sky. The silence was total.

In the center of it all stood a lone chair.

And in it, a  boy with black hair. Pale. Calm. Familiar.

Ken Kaneki. He somehow recognized. 

He looked at Haise with something ancient behind his eyes. Something tired. Something patient.

“We need to talk, Haise.”

—

Haise stared at the figure in the chair, the boy who felt so familiar, yet so distant. His heart hammered in his chest, as if he should know him, as if they should share something more.

"Kaneki?" Haise’s voice felt fragile in the oppressive silence of this strange world.

The boy, Kaneki, tilted his head slightly, his black hair falling in front of his eyes. There was something in his gaze, a quiet sadness that Haise couldn’t quite place.

"So you know who I am," Kaneki said, his tone neutral, though there was an edge of something sharper beneath it, like a warning. He studied Haise closely, as though he were searching for something.

Haise frowned, stepping closer to the chair but still unsure if he should approach any further. “I don’t remember... everything. But I know your name. I know… there’s something between us. Something I should understand. But it’s like—" he faltered, the words scraping at his throat. "It’s like there’s a gap. Like someone else is in my head."

Kaneki’s lips twitched, a small, knowing smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You’re not entirely wrong. Haise Sasaki… that’s who you are now. But you’re not just Haise." He paused, his gaze unwavering. 

Haise’s stomach churned at the words. "What do you mean?"

Kaneki leaned forward slightly, his fingers pressing against the arms of the chair as he sat upright. "You’re not just Haise Sasaki," he repeated, the weight of his voice settling heavily between them. "You’re Ken Kaneki. That’s who you were, who you are. But everything got… complicated."

Haise took in a sharp breath. "I don’t understand. You’re me?" He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m the son of Arima and brother of Mado, I'm a literature student, how am I supposed to believe I was someone else? Someone who—who wasn't this?"

Kaneki’s smile faded, his face growing distant, almost sorrowful. "It’s not that simple. You’re both, Haise. You’re me. You’re the one I was, the one I became, but also the one you’re trying to build. Your memories, your identity, they’ve been shattered. And in place of the broken pieces, you’re stitching something new together. But it’s not just your mind that’s been split."

Haise’s breath quickened, his thoughts spiraling. "This isn’t real. This can’t be real."

Kaneki’s eyes softened for a moment, and in that moment, Haise saw the deep pain behind them. "You’re real, Haise. More real than you think. But it’s not about who you were before, or even who you are now. It’s about who you choose to be. You just have to remember that you're not alone. I’m inside you, and I’m not trying to fight you."

Haise stood frozen, his mind grappling with the chaos. “I don’t know who to trust… or what to believe.”

"You don’t have to trust me," Kaneki said, his voice low and calm. "But trust yourself. Trust your choices. We’re part of the same whole. You just have to let that be enough."

Haise opened his mouth to respond, but the words got lost in the weight of Kaneki’s gaze. The pressure of the moment seemed to stretch the world around them, and Haise couldn’t breathe through it, couldn’t think past it. He looked at the boy in front of him, the reflection of his own soul, and realized, whatever had happened, whatever was happening, they were not two separate people. They were one.

"You’re me," Haise whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it real. "But… what does that mean for me now?"

Kaneki didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he let the question hang in the air like a fragile thread, each word both an invitation and a warning. "That’s for you to figure out. But remember, Haise… you’re not alone anymore."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Haise felt an odd sense of relief. He was no longer just alone in this empty, shifting world. But before he could fully process what Kaneki had said, the atmosphere around him thickened, a presence shifting in the air like a pulse, vibrating through the very ground beneath his feet.

Suddenly, the room seemed to change. The shadows twisted, moving like liquid, and the space that had once felt like an abstract, fragmented world was now filled with the sharp tension of other minds, other selves.

From the corners of the room, a figure appeared, towering, monstrous, and yet somehow familiar. His black eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity, and his white hair hung in wild, untamed strands. His skin was pale, almost deathly so, and his presence screamed of power and danger.

Ghoul.

He cracked his knuckles with a sharp, almost mechanical precision, the sound echoing through the silent world. There was a darkness to him, a primal ferocity that Haise could feel in his gut. Ghoul’s lips twisted into a predatory smile as he took a slow step forward, his figure becoming more and more imposing.

“Only drink coffee,” Ghoul muttered under his breath, his voice low and gravelly, almost mocking. He eyed Haise for a moment, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Human food… it makes me sick.” He spat to the side, the act too visceral, too repulsive to ignore. “Stick with what I can actually stomach .”

Haise stood frozen, unsure of how to react. The presence of this being, so violent and animalistic, felt suffocating, as though the air had thickened around him with the weight of his aura. But before he could process it fully, another figure emerged, this one a horrifying silhouette, like something out of a nightmare.

Centipede.  How did he know the name immediately? He would never know. 

The creature, if it could even be called that, was a grotesque mass of writhing, segmented legs. The body twisted unnaturally, its dark, slick form slithering across the ground like a nightmarish horror. The face was barely human, twisted with rage and cruelty, eyes gleaming with a deep, cold malice. Blood dripped from its wounds, stains of self-inflicted violence, a reflection of the torment that brewed inside.

Centipede let out a low, gravelly laugh, the sound like nails scraping across stone. “We’ve got a lot of work to do,” it hissed, its voice harsh, violent. It didn’t even seem to acknowledge Haise, its eyes focused only on itself, on the sharp claws it dug into the ground as if trying to rip the world apart.

Before Haise could react, another presence emerged from the shadows, this one a fragile, childlike form, small and delicate, with dark black hair framing a young face. His eyes, however, were filled with an unnatural depth, as though the weight of a thousand lives had already been placed upon him.

Neki.

The child's expression was blank, his tiny hands clasped tightly together in front of him. He looked lost, as though he didn’t belong here, as though the world around him was too large, too overwhelming. “I don’t like it here…” he whispered, his voice soft, almost childishly naive, and his small body trembled slightly.

Haise’s heart ached at the sight of him, this fragile little kid who seemed so out of place in this world of darkness and shifting realities. “You don’t have to be afraid,” Haise said softly, kneeling in front of him, unsure if the words would even reach him.

But before Neki could respond, another figure made its presence known, stepping forward with quiet authority, calm and composed. Black Reaper.

He was tall, his dark hair flowing just past his shoulders, and his glasses gleamed with cold calculation. His expression was stern, almost emotionless, but there was something in his eyes, a sharpness, a precision, that made Haise feel like he was being studied, analyzed in a way that felt almost invasive.

“Haise,” Black Reaper said, his voice firm, almost detached. “You’re going to need to control this. The others… they can't handle the world. But you can.” His gaze flickered over to the others in the room, as if acknowledging their chaotic nature with a quiet, almost resigned acceptance. “We’ll keep them in check, but you have to be the one to hold the reins.”

Haise nodded, feeling the weight of Black Reaper’s words. There was a sense of responsibility in his tone, a sense of duty, but also a cold distance that Haise couldn’t quite shake.

And then, as if summoned by the very air itself, another presence appeared, this one more familiar, more human , though no less overwhelming.

Sassan.

The only girl had white shoulder-length hair that framed her delicate face, and she was dressed in a simple yet elegant outfit. Her expression was calm, almost serene, but there was an underlying strength to her presence that Haise couldn’t ignore. She was… different, though. Unlike the others, she seemed almost too composed, as if she had a quiet control over everything around her.

She smiled at Haise, the curve of her lips gentle. She tilted her head slightly, studying him with a soft, almost maternal affection. “We’re all here, Haise. You just have to accept it.”

Haise stood in stunned silence, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of these figures. These fragments of himself. “Who… Who are you all?” he whispered, feeling his mind spinning, trying to make sense of the pieces that now stood before him.

“We are you,” Ghoul growled, cracking his knuckles again. “In one form or another. The ones who protect, the ones who destroy, the ones who remember, and the ones who need help. We’re the parts of you, Haise. Now you know about us.”

“It's going to be okay,” Kaneki’s voice echoed in the distance, a reminder, a constant reassurance.

Haise swallowed hard, the gravity of the moment finally sinking in. There was no going back now. He was caught between two worlds, the one he had known, and this fractured reality where he no longer knew who he truly was.

But at least, for now, he wasn’t alone.

Chapter Text

He woke up with a start. A dream. It had been a dream.

You wish.

A voice echoed in his head, sharp and mocking, sending a chill down his spine. Haise froze, staring at the darkened ceiling of his room, heart racing. He recognized the voice immediately.

Ghoul.

It was strange how normal this voice had started to feel. He still wasn’t used to hearing the different voices in his head, each one unique, distinct. Some were protective, some violent, others quiet, and one, the child , fragile and lost. But Ghoul, he was the one that seemed to command the space, the one who had always been there, lurking in the shadows of his mind. Haise had learned not to question it too much; the answers came in fragments, little pieces of information that didn’t always fit together.

Sitting up slowly, Haise rubbed his eyes and reached for his phone on the nightstand, his fingers trembling. The dim light of the screen illuminated his face, the soft glow offering him a semblance of comfort. He’d spent hours the previous night Googling something he never thought he’d need to understand: Dissociative Identity Disorder.

As he read, his eyes moved frantically across the screen, piecing together the information that felt like a revelation. DID. A disorder caused by trauma. A splitting of the mind. Multiple personalities existing in one body, each with their own traits, memories, and desires. The more Haise read, the clearer it became.

This is me.

He hadn’t known what to call it until now. He’d always felt different, fragmented. The shifting moods, the confusion, the gaps in his memory. The sudden appearance of his what he learned were  ‘alters’: Ghoul, Centipede, Neki, Black Reaper, Sassan. Each one emerging in moments of intense emotion, fear, or rage.

Haise closed his eyes, leaning against the headboard, processing the information. The past few days, or was it weeks? He wasn’t sure anymore. He had been skipping college. Processing. He’d been getting used to the presence of these alters. It all was starting to make sense. It was terrifying, yes, but it was also... an explanation. A framework to understand the madness in his mind.

And then, like a flash, the memory hit him, the dark, twisted memory of Jason. His first real alter had come from that night. Jason, the man who had kidnapped him. Tortured him. Broken him.

Haise’s throat tightened, a knot forming in his chest. He remembered the pain, the fear, the dark room he had been trapped in for days, the scent of blood and rot clinging to the air. He could still hear Jason’s voice, cruel and mocking, as the man slowly destroyed him, both physically and mentally. How he had raped him, taken him so young, that he didnt understand what was happening. 

But most importantly, he could still feel the hunger, the gnawing emptiness in his stomach as the days dragged on. Jason had taunted him, starved him, broken him down until Haise was nothing more than a shell.

And then Ghoul had appeared.

Haise shuddered at the memory, at the violence Ghoul had unleashed. He could still hear the sickening crack of Jason’s neck, the way the body had gone limp, the blood staining the floor as Ghoul had taken control. Haise didn’t know how long he’d been out of it, days, weeks, month he didnt know. Ghoul had killed Jason in a violent rage, tearing the man apart before Haise’s eyes, but when the hunger became unbearable, Ghoul had made a choice. They had eaten Jason’s corpse, torn into it with desperate, feral hunger. The memory was nauseating, revolting, but it was also a part of his reality now. A necessary evil in the face of starvation.

Jason’s disappearance had been reported, of course. His co-worker, Niko, had been the one to file the report. Jason had never shown up to work, hadn’t answered his phone, and had left his apartment in disarray. The police had eventually found Haise, or rather, Kaneki, lying in the mess of his own destruction, traumatized and barely conscious, half-starved, covered in blood.

Haise ran a shaky hand through his hair, his mind spinning with images of his past. The time between being kidnapped and the day the police had found him was a blur—strange, disconnected. He remembered flickers of things, flashes of memory like a fragmented film reel. He remembered Jason, the pain, the darkness.

And then, he remembered the police. The sharp, accusing eyes of the officers, their whispers and hurried movements as they found him in that horrific state. They hadn’t known what to make of him, of his broken state, of the terror in his eyes. The trauma was too much for a child to bear, and they had only known that something was horribly wrong. But it wasn’t until they found him that he had met Arima .

Arima, the man who would become so integral to Haise’s life.

Haise didn’t know why he remembered this so vividly. But when the police found him, Arima had been there too. The man with the cold, calculating eyes had come forward, offering no comfort, no reassurance. Just an assessment of what had happened to Haise. The blank stare of someone who had seen it all, who knew all the answers but didn’t care to give them.

And in those moments, Haise hadn’t been able to process it. Hadn’t understood the man’s role in his life. But looking back now, he wondered if Arima had known. If he had known about Haise’s DID all along. If he had been the one to hide it from everyone, to make sure Haise remained just a broken boy, a tool to be used, molded.

His phone buzzed, with a name that sent a strange ripple of emotion through his chest.

Hide.

His heart stuttered. It had been a long time since he’d heard from Hide. Since everything had fallen apart. His mind quickly scrambled for answers, but it didn’t take long for him to find the courage to open the message.

Hide: "Haise, we need to talk. I know things are different now... but I’m here for you. Always have been. Call me when you’re ready." 

Haise stared at the message, his hands trembling. He had so many fears, he felt vulnerable and raw. But the desire to hear Hide’s voice, his old friend, was stronger. 

He didn't call Hide. He went to his house. 

He knocked on the door. Hide opened the door. 

"Come in— er..Haise?" Hide’s voice was familiar and warm, but there was a slight hesitation in it; it was something new and different. A tension they didn't use to have.

"Yes, Hide... I..." Haise’s words caught in his throat. "I don’t know where to start."

"Hey, take your time," Hide’s voice was soft, reassuring. "Let's sit.” They moved to the couch.

When Hise remained quiet, Hide said, “I’m here. I just... I need to know how you’re doing. Really."

Haise closed his eyes, the weight of everything pressing down on him. "I’m still trying to understand it all. What happened to me... what I am."

For a long moment, there was silence between them, two old friends struggling to find the right words.

Finally, Haise spoke again. "I disappeared, Hide. I... was taken. He, this man, tortured me. But there’s more, and I need to tell you. All of it."

"I’m listening."

And as Haise began to explain everything, the kidnapping, the pain, the horrors, the alters, and Hide listened to him, didn't flinch, didn't judge, didn't push him away, something in his chest fluttered. A strange, new feeling. 

Haise blushed.

Oh.  

Oh, shit. 

He liked Hide.

"I told you he was cute," Sassan said to him with a grin. 

"You were the last one to notice," Ghoul complained. 

He groaned into his hands. Trying to make the flush of his cheeks go away.

"You okay, man?" Hide asked good-naturedly. 

"Yeah, they are just talking," He explained. 

"That must be...interesting? Do they have different voices or do they all sound the same?"

"Well.."

And that's how they passed the afternoon. Hide asking questions that weren't invasive, just pure curiosity, and Haise trying his best to answer honestly. While coming to accept his feelings for his best friend. 

Chapter Text

Time passed in a blur of healing and understanding.

It had been weeks since the chaotic, fragmented events that had shaken Haise's world. Slowly, the pieces of his life began to fall back into place, though some gaps remained, things he couldn’t fully comprehend yet. He had grown more accustomed to the presence of his alters, the voices in his head no longer as terrifying but rather... part of him. They weren’t just fragments of his trauma anymore; they were pieces of his survival, his identity.

Nishiki had forgiven him. The bite, once a point of anger and fear, was no longer an issue between them. Haise had apologized profusely for the moment of rage he had lost control over, but Nishiki, after a long talk, understood. He had his own demons, after all. They had found common ground. They were both survivors in their own way, and in a quiet, unspoken bond, they had come to an understanding. Nishiki had become a stable part of Haise's recovery, someone who knew the struggle, someone who didn’t judge.

Kimi, too, had learned of Haise’s DID. When Haise had explained it to her, the disbelief in her eyes had been palpable, but the sincerity had carried her through the confusion. They had sat down together, a careful conversation unfolding. Haise had been honest, too honest, maybe, but Kimi had listened patiently, trying to understand. She apologized for the things she had said in the past, not fully realizing how much Haise had been carrying, and they parted ways as friends. 

Sassan takes hold of the body from time to time to hang out with Kimi. They had been friends first, after all. They went to cafés together, sometimes hanging out in quiet parks, and their conversations were light and easy.

Sassan had taken on the role of someone who didn’t dwell on the deep, emotional struggles that Haise was dealing with. Instead, she provided Kimi with a distraction, offering her a different kind of companionship, something more carefree. Even though she struggled with hypersexuality and dysphoria, she was strong, and Haise knew she would thrive.

As for Haise, his bond with Hide deepened during this time. The late-night conversations shifted from the pain of the past to the hope of the future. Hide never judged, never pushed him to open up more than he was ready to. He had always been there for Haise, but now, there was something more between them. A connection that, despite the complexities of Haise’s mind, felt natural and true.

Touka, too, remained a steady presence. She had truly become the ‘mom friend’ of their little group, her protective nature offering everyone a sense of stability. She wasn’t just there for Haise, but for everyone. She took care of them in the way only she could, unwavering, strong, and filled with warmth.

One evening, after spending time with Sassan and Kimi, Haise found himself sitting next to Hide on a park bench, the cool night air wrapping around them. Hide leaned back casually, but Haise noticed the small, thoughtful glance he sent his way. It was almost as if he had been waiting for this moment.

"Haise," Hide said softly, breaking the silence. "How are you feeling?"

Haise turned toward him, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I’m... better. More at peace with myself. It’s still a struggle, but I’m managing."

Hide’s smile was soft, full of understanding. "I’m glad to hear that." He leaned forward slightly, his voice quieter as he added, "You’ve been through so much, Haise. I think it’s about time you started giving yourself some credit."

Haise let out a soft breath. "Maybe... maybe I’ll start doing that."

There was a silence between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was a silence that spoke volumes.

"Haise," Hide said again, his voice filled with sincerity. "You’re not alone in this, you know. Not anymore."

Haise’s heart skipped a beat, the weight of his past and his disorder no longer felt as crushing as it once had. With Hide by his side, the future seemed just a little bit brighter.

"Yeah," Haise said softly, his gaze meeting Hide’s. Tentatively reaching for his hand. "I know. And... thank you. For sticking by me."

Hide smiled, a soft, knowing smile. Reached back, squeezing his hand. "You don’t have to thank me. I’ve always been here, Haise. I always will be."

“And what about the others?” He asked, suddenly insecure. 

“What about them?” Hide frowned, confused.

“Will you be there for them too?” He looked down at their hands, he couldn't look at Hide.

Hide with his other hand and grasped his chin. His expression was open, and a sweet smile graced his lips. “Of course.”

“Really?”

Hide closed the distance between them. Their foreheads touching. He gazed into his friend's eyes. 

“Really,”

“Okay,” Haise closed his eyes.

He felt Hide pull back and kiss his cheek tenderly. 

And maybe just maybe things would be all right.