The Rose and the Centipede

The Emperor and The Empress

He wanted nothing more than to stay in this disintegrating house, frozen in time, with his arms around his trembling flower.

Kaneki lost count of how many hours he and Hanami had spent laying on her childhood bed deep within the bowels of her former home. His heart barely lurched with the rushed concern to flee some place before any human or investigators caught him. The house, with all of its scars mirrored inside of Hanami's soul, was forgotten by the world past the boundaries of the land it stood upon.

Hanami's fingers remained twined with his, their joined hands laying close to her face. Kaneki could feel her breath against his fingers, a cool breeze skimming his flesh. Even now, the sweet, floral scent that he had come to associate with Hanami permeated through the entire room so that he would be drowning in it. He nuzzled her shoulder, the warmth of her having a calming effect on him. "We should get up," he murmured. "I promised we were going to find out more about you before we came here."

"I'm sorry. I lost track of time." Hanami's words were slurred and Kaneki could tell from how relaxed her body was against his that his girl was exhausted. He pushed himself upright, his fingers slowly slipping from hers.

"You don't have to apologize, Hanami. Just lay here and rest for a while. You relived a lot," he murmured, his fingers suddenly threading through the short, light-brown strands as though it were second nature. "I'll look around, see if I can find anything and bring it so you can look at it. Sound good?"

Hanami nodded slowly, her lids fluttering as though a weight were upon them. "Sounds good," she echoed softly. A knot tightened deep inside of Kaneki as he reluctantly ceased stroking Hanami's hair. He didn't want to leave her to sleep by herself, even though he was still going to be in the house looking for clues. After what he learned about her so far, about her memories inside of this rotting corpse of a house, Kaneki would be loathed to leave Hanami alone with her nightmares; but his flower looked serene for once, the combative mask in their power struggle giving way to a peacefulness that seemed to be so rare on her expression. He sighed inaudibly, bending down to brush his lips against the corner of Hanami's mouth. Not quite a kiss, but...

Hanami barely stirred and Kaneki didn't expect her to. He straightened up, grey eyes softening at her, before he walked out of the room. His very instincts were screaming for him to go back, to just lay in that bed with her and let everything pass them by. But I can't right now, he told himself, the aged floor creaking with every step he took down the hallway of the second floor. His flower gave him the sweetest gifts he could ever want—her forgiveness for his sins and her heart long ago. She unveiled absolute vulnerability that was not forced by his hand. The least he could do was become better, stronger, and more resilient. Selfish as it was, Kaneki did not want his place threatened among those he cared for—that had always been his goal. For his place, for those he cared about, he would remove anything in the way.

But with Hanami...

Kaneki paused, his fingers grasping the feeble railing that would prevent him from hurling to the floor, had it been in its prime. His thoughts returned to his girl, his fragile little flower, his heart racing wildly within his chest. If anyone ever threatened his place at her side, there would be no debate. That threat would be annihilated with upmost prejudice.

You were the biggest threat to her, a voice inside of him whispered and Kaneki gritted his teeth with a rough shake of his head. He knew that, knew that he caused her so much pain with his manic need for her, to taint her with his darkness. I can make it up to her now. I won't hurt her again.