Chapter Text
There is a moment when you're waking up and only partially aware of your surroundings, when the world is made of sounds and temperature. Sometimes, the feeling enters your dreams and suddenly the vision's interrupted by the cold flowing through an open window or your favorite band's new song set as the alarm on your phone. Sometimes you wake up immediately, sometimes you're caught in between. It lasts only a moment.
The couch wasn't suited for sleeping. Short slumber born from after hours in the cafe and last night spend outside left her neck aching, but with waking up came the memory that there was actually something she had been doing. She was cold, even though she wasn't before. Getting up, she remembered making herself coffee - unbelievable even working in a coffee shop didn't make her dislike it - but now it was cold and bitter. It was already dark and the tiny flat seemed more lonely than usual. She could feel the smell(odor) of the neighbors' dinner and hear steps and voices all around the building. What was it like in there? She could hear and smell what these people did, but the emotions felt by them escaped the most sensitive of senses. The dinner they're having, the family on the upper floor, it must be delicious to them.
Suddenly desperate for air, she opened the kitchen's window and let cars, trains and traffic fill her home instead of other people's happy Friday evening appearing in the place of the absent. Sleeping during the day and waking up to one's loneliness and cold - she never sleeps well without a blanket, day or night - it was simply not going to do. Tomorrow will be the same as usual.
***
It wasn't a busy day. It was as if rainy weather made people realize there wasn't time to stop at a cafe, pop in the cosy room with all the tables and chairs and the sound of the coffee machine. It was just as well, though. Yomo left before already, said he'd be out the whole week, and their only other worker, a tall girl just out of high school, didn't work on the weekends. Compared to Anteiku, :re was a quiet place, with the current aura filling it with humidity, not voices. A lazy day.
It was only two or three o'clock when he showed up. Normally, he'd come later, just before the shop closed. 'Was he not working today?' she wondered. Unusual, for him to come alone, too. Thanks to Haise Sasaki :re had seen far more CCG's investigators than it should. Come to think of it, there was more human customers than ghouls lately, who would just stop by for their 'packages' and a coffee. The almost domestic atmosphere of the original shop has seemingly permanently disappeared along with it and now :re remained solely a replacement. Still, there was something refreshing in their visits ever since Sasaki first appeared. Among the other Doves - his coworkers, now, she reminded herself - a familiar voice, face, person stood out even more. The uneasiness, when they casually placed the unmistakable silver suitcases under the tables - it all combined into a sweet and sour feeling. But this time, he was alone and she watched him hang his coat on the rack, the fabric glistening with water. Their eyes met then and she found herself walking up to his table, though she knew what he'll order.
She watched him leave an hour later, when the sky cleared a little and sun appeared, giving the illusion of warmth. Everything was on its place, with Sasaki at the table and her at the bar, the routine settled down long before he came the first time. It was like when the story first began, she remembered, back then four years ago. They've come full circle. The sun shined suddenly and brightly through the café's windows and she was reminded of Anteiku. They were strangers again, a client and a waitress. Yet Touka knew his customs as well as her own, always ready to reassume the act of not knowing. It was what she decided to do. A wait, really, but how could one not wonder if it would ever end, if this balance be broken? Because there they were, suspended in the balance of strangeness.
He didn't bring his coat the next time he came. All the rain has left was the impossible humidity, so usual for mid July. The characteristic overcoats that gave. investigators the 'Doves' nickname became unnecessary with the air so hot it almost clung to the skin. Touka hesitantly joined Sasaki where he stood before one of :re's bookcases, facing nothing else but a complete collection of Takatsuki Sen's novels. 'Should she talk to him, or rather, could she? Now, it wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary for a waitress to strike up a conversation?'
And so she talked, inquiring about books and work and weather. Sometimes she leaned through the counter, speaking loudly to him in the buzz of the cafe, sometimes she placed two cups on his table and they sat together. The most trivial of things became a perfect opportunity for her just to study his face and manner. Maybe that's how they would talk if they didn't meet that forgotten evening over two corpses. But now their eyes weren't black and red kakugans.
"I was meaning to ask you, Sasaki, don't you work now?" , she asked one of these sunny days. :re's big antique clock has just struck midday.
"Ah, I suppose I would, normally." , Sasaki answered, tilting his head and focusing his eyes on the steaming cup of coffee she just put on the table. "But lately I've got more, um, free time."
"And you never come with the others anymore, too." she observed
"The Quinx? I told you about them-"
"Many times."
"Well, they've been assigned to someone else now, partially, at least, so now I don't have that much to do..."
***
Touka saw his demeanor change whenever she brought the subject on. He seemed lonely without his subordinates, and the more time had passed the more resistant Sasaki was to mention them, or his work at all. Before she realized, he was at :re everyday, and suddenly he was not quite coming just for a coffee, but rather to see her. She was uncertain and self-conscious about it. After all, it was her who had the full view on the situation. For all the things Sasaki didn't want to tell her, she was painfully aware that the smallest misstep on his part would mean inevitable action from his superiors. Touka cautiously navigated through ghoul related topics, desperately keeping up the facade of an innocent, friendly waitress oblivious to her friend's indentity. It would be no good for her to slip in in front of him. Only ghouls called the CCG names and she wasn't allowed to show any resentment towards the organization. It was mesmerizing, yet scary to finally see him like this, sometimes even get to celebrate his smile - somehow washed clean of the shyness she knew before. She knew her own expressions have lost any trace of casualness. She couldn't help herself admiring the way he obviously brightened when she came up to his table, but somehow knew that the feeling was mutual.
Sasaki wouldn't talk about the CGG, but he - they - were noticed in :re. Touka was soon sick and tired of Nishiki's banter, although as time passed it was ridiculous to simply shrug off his comments. She could smile and laugh, tell him what Sasaki told her that day, it wasn't as if Nishiki would not be interested in it, but she understood his fears pilling up under the playful teasing. Now Haise Sasaki should be an investigator to them before he could be anyone else. He didn't need them, yet. Now that they were... friends, she would know when he does. That had to be enough. Except Nishiki was not the only one having doubts, Touka herself had plenty of them. She had a reason coming up to him on that hot day, chatting about books she'd read solely because Kaneki loved them so much. She saw something was off about him right there, but now reaching out to him seemed less and less safe.