Edited on the 14th of July 2017. Chapter one and two have been put together.

I just couldn't get this idea out of my head, thus I had been planning this story for a while now. I love Tokyo Ghoul.

Personally, I believe that the anime and manga have a potential for really good fanfiction and I'm quite disappointed that this fandom has so little of them(I mean fanfictions in general.).

I enjoy writing self-insert stories (To be honest, it's more of an OC-Insert), so this isn't my first one.

For now the rating for this story will be 'T', however, I might change it to 'M' later.

Please leave a review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Tokyo Ghoul or any of its characters.

Summary: About three things I was absolutely positive. First, I was screwed. Second, I got somehow reborn as the twin sister of Kaneki Ken. And third, the world was wrong. [SI, Self-Insert/OC-Insert]

Have fun.

Metempsychosis, the wandering of souls, implies that the same soul inhabits in succession the bodies of different beings, both men and animals. The word is derived from Ancient Greek and the more appropriate term for it is 'transmigration'.

Metempsychosis

Chapter 1

What A Mad World

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Where A Tragedy Begun

"In a mad world, only the mad are sane."

― Akira Kurosawa

''I was not the protagonist of a novel or anything. I was a college student who liked to read, like you could find anywhere. But if, for argument's sake, you were to write a story with me in the lead role, it would certainly be...a tragedy.''

― Kaneki Ken, Tokyo Ghoul

There was once a quote in my favorite manga that claimed if the main character should ever be the protagonist of a novel, then it would certainly end up being a tragedy. It was the introduction of the whole story and managed to capture my attention for many reasons. Among them the fact that even though it did not fit like two puzzle pieces, it did seem to represent my life perfectly.

After all, I was only sixteen years old when I died. Yeah, you've read right, when I died.

I was dead. Or at least I should have been dead.

I could still remember the sight of a huge wave rising from the sea, towering meters above the ground. Together with a few friends I had decided to visit the beach that day, therefore I had one of the many first row seats for the destruction that was to come.

During my supposedly last day on earth I witnessed the most magnificent sight ever. There was nothing out there that could compare to the beauty of an impending natural catastrophe.

A tsunami, nonetheless.

One my friends had pointed at the horizon and alerted us to the destruction that was to come. Water rose higher and higher above the ground and I could do nothing but stare at that cerulean blue wall that continued moving in my direction.

Faster than I thought possible, the wave clashed with the land and continued tearing its way across the small beach. Nothing could oppose it, everything that stood in nature's way was eradicated; trees ripped from the ground along with their roots, houses shattered into tiny pieces. But it were the humans who colored the once so beautiful water with their blood, some dying instantly and some not.

Even though I knew that I would die, I still clung so very desperately to my own life. Foolishly, I tried to hide behind a small hut, pulling one of my friends with me. A pipe pierced my body as punishment for this idiotic behavior.

Maybe it was this foolishness that led to what happened afterwards?

It hurt, a lot. The pipe was made from some sort of metal, not sure if you wanted to know that. Perhaps, the more interesting thing was that the object managed to pierce my right lung. The sensation of blood flooding my lung was nothing pleasant. Especially, because it continued flowing upwards into my mouth. I never did like the metallic taste of blood.

Once again, the irony was just too cruel.

I couldn't remember if I drowned in the water or my own blood. Possibly, both of them.

But I did know that I didn't die immediately after the water collided with me. I wasn't that lucky.

Panic mixed with desperation and fear and prompted me to fight. My legs and arms moved, trying to push me up to the surface. The sad thing was that I had no idea where that actually was. Sharp objects cut my sensitive skin, crimson blood changing the water around me into a murky brown. Violently, the currents ripped me into all directions and slowly my eyesight blurred.

All of my senses were robbed from me and a frightening confusion took over my entire being.

Still, there was one thing that made the whole situation even worse. I just couldn't breathe.

One moment I was there, the other I was gone.

And yet my story, unlike many others, did not end there. It did not end with my death. No, my death was just the starting point of a new beginning.

The transition wasn't gradual or anything like that. After I died—It was still weird to think about it like that.—none of the normal bullshit happened. You know, like golden gates, a reception or even an entrance to hell. One second I was drowning, the next I found myself being squeezed through a way to tight space.

It was uncomfortable, shocking and so many other things. And it did not get any better for a (long?) while.

And when the squeezing sensation finally stopped, I faced a new pile of problems.

It was cold. Freezing cold.

Why couldn't I see? Where was I?

Oh god, I couldn't breathe.

The stinging sensation at my bottom did nothing to calm me down. Did someone just hit me? And wait, was someone actually holding me? Who were these people?

Could someone please shut the wailing infant up?

I never realized that I was one of those 'wailing infants'.

I couldn't really tell if the fact that my mind soon shut down was more of a blessing or a curse. But as the shadows of sleep wrapped around, I started to hope that all this was just a really bad dream.

A nightmare, if I had to guess.

It didn't really matter because as long as this whole situation was just a dream, I could still wake up. I could still wake up in my bed and find out that all this had been just a nightmare.

I never believed in god. If I did, I would have had to accept the fact that I was one of his least liked creations. Maybe, even hated by him.

Because at the end, I did wake up again and it turned out that all this wasn't just a dream. No, it was my new reality.

Autumn announced its presence with a heavy barrage of rain. Between the constant confusion and fear my death left me and the disbelieve I felt at the thought of being reborn I noticed little of what was happening around me.

When I was reborn—And wasn't that a frightening thought?—I had no idea what was going on around me. All I felt was confusion, sadness and an all encompassing fear.

The air caressing my skin seemed to be freezing and my infant eyes left one of my senses crippled. The voices that surrounded me were strange and unknown, thus they did nothing to calm me down.

And then there was the fact that I had died. I remembered it more clearly than anything else.

What was happening? Why was it happening? What did I do to deserve it?

The stress was too much for me and my new body. I fell asleep and didn't truly wake up for months.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I noticed that I woke up once again about a day later. Only half conscious, I basked in the fact that for a moment I was free of the nightmares that plagued me for what felt like an eternity. Not even an hour later I succumbed to the weakness of my young body and fell into a restless sleep.

Days blurred into weeks and nothing changed. I slept and dreamed. Woke up screaming and never truly managed to escape the nightmares of my death. Even awake my thoughts were still plagued by the trauma I had experienced.

Haunted by nightmares and tormented by my own thoughts, I lived inside my own living hell.

Thankfully, things started to change when my new body reached the age of four months. The constant unconscious state I had found myself in since I entered my second life drifted away. Staying awake became easier and opened new possibilities for me.

My eyesight improved and I started observing my new family. It was still very much awkward to call them that.

I already had a family. A mother and a father.

But this family, this young couple, so clearly loved me. Would it really be so wrong to enjoy this new life?

Especially as I now had the one thing I had always desired; a sibling, a twin brother.

Would it be wrong of me to take this second chance that was unwillingly thrust upon me?

Alright, this just needs to be mentioned. Breast feeding was one of the weirdest experiences I had ever had to go through. Right after being born, of course. Nothing could trump that.

I was just happy that my new mother had relatively small breasts. I could imagine some demented god trying to smoother me with them.

What a way to die for a second time.

The only thing worse would have been dying by drowning in her milk. Now that would be ironic.

I was somewhat glad that I missed most of the breast feeding. Not only did the whole experience seem awkward to me, but the milk tasted like absolutely nothing. I wasn't sure if this was due to underdeveloped taste buds or if the liquid truly didn't have a taste.

Even now, drinking it for what felt like the thousandth time, I still couldn't stand it.

On the bright side, Ken—My twin brother, can you believe it? I had a twin brother.— who was situated opposite of me, seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. He even held onto our mother's breast with his small hands.

Nope, I certainly won't be going there. It would feel too much as if I was doing something wrong.

''Ken!'' The woman who had given birth to me shouted loudly as pain distorted her face. My gaze shifted away from her and towards my brother who had probably thought that biting down would be funny.

Our gums were still toothless, so she could consider herself lucky. I did not want to imagine the pain she would have felt if he had teeth in his mouth.

The little brat actually had the gall to giggle loudly and practically spit some of the milk in his mother's face. Afterwards he latched onto her once again and continued his third meal that day.

The woman sighted in exasperation. ''At least you're gentler than your brother, my sweet little girl.''

It was that very moment that I noticed how young she was. Maybe twenty years old. A mother of twins.

The woman looked tired.

Her pale skin accentuated the dark circles under her eyes and it seemed as if a lot of time had passed since she last had the chance to properly take care of herself.

A small part of me couldn't help feeling sorry for her. I doubted that our conception was planned.

But it's not as if she could blame us for it.

''Finished?'' My new mother asked with a gentle voice. Obviously, we did not answer her.

One arm somehow managed to hold the two of us against her upper body, while the other carefully angled us upwards.

Yay, it was time to burp. Do note the sarcasm.

The impressive thing was that my new mother somehow managed to take care of the both of us at the same time. Not once did her hold on us slacken.

That was some serious coordination talent.

Time flew by quickly, and the next thing I knew, I was six months old, pulling myself up and sitting for the first time in this new life. The amount of strength this little action cost me was unbelievable. When I finally finished the task I had given myself a few days ago, I felt tired enough to instantly fall asleep.

This new body's weakness was astounding. In all my life I had never felt so helpless before. I used to value my independence more than anything else, so finding myself in this kind of situation was horrific.

Delighted giggling and babbling distracted me. Looking up from my pink, flower decorated bottoms, I smiled at the sight of my twin who was positioned at the other side of our crib and gazing at me with something akin to pride. If children as young as him were even capable of feeling such an emotion, anyway.

He was sitting as well. The little brat actually mastered doing it before me. Honestly, the fact that a not even one year old boy managed to best me in something as easy as this cost me a small part of my pride.

In my defense, I could have tried learning it sooner but I decided to follow his lead. I knew nothing about babies and their development and it wouldn't have done me any good if my new parents started to question my abnormal growth. Particularly, because I had spend the first four months of this new life in a catatonic state.

And that was also something I often wondered about. Every normal parent would have panicked when their child showed obvious signs of some illness. After waking up in this world I spent a long time mourning what I had lost and ignoring my new reality. This put me into a rather unresponsive state which should have worried my new parents.

So why hadn't they taken me to a doctor? I was sure that they had noticed my abnormal behavior and had been worried about me. Every normal person would have visited the hospital with their obviously ill infant.

My new parents did nothing.

This even led me to believe that they didn't care about the two of us, but I dismissed those thoughts quickly. If they did not care about us, then our parents would have long since abandoned us. Instead, both of them treated us with a gentleness that implied that we were made of porcelain. Sometimes, our father would look at us as if he couldn't quite believe that we were actually there.

Maybe they didn't have much money? Our apartment had certainly seen better days. Not that it was bad or anything, but it still could have been way nicer.

Now that I thought about it, I didn't think that my new father had a job. He spend most of his time at home, taking care of the two of us. Him being unemployed meant that my new mother was the only one bringing money home.

And if I had to guess, it wasn't a lot of money.

Why didn't my new father have a job? Did my new parents decide that it would be better for one of them to stay home to raise us?

Still, that did not explain his regular disappearances. Once every two weeks he would be gone for the whole night. I only noticed this because I wasn't asleep during one of those disappearances and greeted him when he came back from his nightly endeavors. It had rained that night and my new mother ushered him into the bathroom the moment his foot stepped over our threshold.

I would never forget how tense she had been that night. How she couldn't quite meet my new father's eyes when they resided in the same room. How she flinched when he gave her a small stack of money.

I knew that it wasn't much, but in our situation that shouldn't have mattered. Not while she had two children to take care of.

The money was put into a small metallic container and hidden under the kitchen sink. The woman never deigned to touch it again.

''You did it, Rei-chan!'' A feminine voice said. Akemi, that was my new mother's name, was standing in the doorway of our nursery. Delight shone brightly in her eyes as she rushed forward and stopped moving in front of our crib. ''Look at the both of you.''

Akemi—I needed to stop calling her that. She was my mother now. Not 'Akemi', 'That woman' or 'New mother'.—leaned down and took little Ken into her arms. My twin giggled happily at our mother's attention. ''You're a good little boy, huh? Just as your sister is a good little girl. My two sunshines.''

I didn't think that anyone ever called me a 'good little girl' before. Well, there was a first for everything.

Mother smiled down at me and proceeded to look at her wrist watch. ''The both of you must be hungry.'' She put Ken into the crib once again. ''I will go heat your dinner. I'm sure it tastes better warm than cold.''

Kaneki Akemi was a gentle soul. Sometimes it seemed as if she didn't quiet know what to do with us, but that must have been a first time mother's charm. She was still quite young and inexperienced, however, that did not mean that she neglected us.

After all, Kaneki Akemi was a good mother.

If only I had known.

My new father's name was Kaneki Ryota.

He was half Japanese and half Swedish. I wouldn't have known that if it weren't for the photo of his mother decorating a wall in our living room. She had been a lovely woman. With her golden blond hair and stormy gray eyes, she could have charmed any man she wanted.

Father inherited her eyes, as did Ken and I.

I wasn't a vain person, but I had to admit that compared to my previous dull brown eyes, these ones were beautiful. A light gray that sometimes darkened like clouds just before a storm.

At least Ken's eyes did that. I couldn't take my gaze off them. In the lightning of our living room they seemed more mesmerizing than ever. Regrettably, I was forced to look away when the brat decided that it would be funny to stick one of his fingers into my left eye.

The shriek that passed my lips was as undignified as it was childish. However, I couldn't help it. Having a finger stuck in your eye hurt like hell.

(If only I had known.)

''Ken.'' Father raised his voice only slightly. There was no need for shouting, we were still physically and supposedly mentally too young to truly differ between right and wrong. His large hand clasped around my brother's smaller one and pulled it away from my face. ''Don't do that. You're hurting your sister.''

Yeah, he did not get a thing of what father was saying. Ken only put the finger that had previously been inside my eye into his mouth—Eww. Disgusting.—and turned his head left. He started mumbling to himself as he gazed at the TV in front of us. I doubted he understood whatever they were talking about.

It was some popular talk-show with a very famous moderator. Takeshi Haruka.

The weird thing was, that I had never heard about this man before. Neither did I know his show. In my previous life—You have no idea how much it hurt to think about it this way.—I may not have been the most up to date person, but I did know my fair share about the current pop

If I hadn't already seen the date on a calendar a few months prior, I might have suspected that I had been reborn into the future. But I wasn't.

Currently, we had the year 1996. Only three years before my first birth.

With how famous this Takeshi person seemed to be, I should have heard about him before.

I never did.

It were such small things that unsettled me. We had a lot of stuff at home, mostly food and drinks, from brands I had never heard of. Some of the technology seemed too advanced for this decade.

There was something very, very wrong with this place.

And yet I still clung to the hope that everything was fine. That I was still in my known when and where.

That one day I would meet my family once again.

Father shifted slightly and for a moment I thought I would fall from my position on his knee. Ken's squeal indicated that he must have experienced the same thing.

Meanwhile, father wasn't bothered or even worried. His right arm was wrapped around the both of us and held us in place. At the same time his other hand reached out for the remote on the small table before us and turned the TV's volume louder.

The expression on his face was very alarming.

'BREAKING NEWS', was written boldly across the screen, just before a middle aged reporter replaced it. The man was gravely pale, his mouth set into a thin line. Whatever he was meant to report wouldn't be pleasant.

'Good evening, Japan. We interrupt the program with a theme of outmost importance. Less than an hour ago an attack on the popular Ringo Restaurant occurred. There are already five casualties confirmed and more expected. No visitor or worker has been left unharmed.

The perpetrator is supposedly a ghoul.'

Wait...what?

'We hope that our coworker Chieko Amaya can tell us more directly from the crime scene.' He fumbled with a microphone. 'Chieko-san, can you hear me? If you do, please tell us more about the current situation.'

There was a slight rumbling noise and the screen flickered. Then it split into two; on one side was the middle-aged reporter, on the other a young woman appeared. 'Good evening, Keiichi-san.' There were many police cars and panicked civilians behind her. The windows of the Ringo Restaurant were stained red. 'As you see, the situation here is very uncontrolled. Many wounded still haven't been treated and the police doesn't know what to do. They try to keep the masses calm.'

'Could you tell us what happened?' Keiichi questioned. He looked nervous, sweat was gathering on his temple and his eyes kept flickering in all directions.

'Precisely at 7 p.m. the doors of The Ringo Restaurant had been locked, trapping all its occupants inside. It was then that the perpetrator struck. From what the police gathered, it seems to be a ghoul by the code name Hebi.

The culprit managed to escape the crime scene before any help could arrive.

He's still on the run. I repeat, he's still on the run.'

Was this some kind of joke? It had to be.

The camera moved away from the female reporter to show a pair of men exiting the restaurant. They were wearing long coats and each of them carried a silver suitcase in their right hand. 'Four CCG Investigators arrived at the crime scene minutes before the police. Two of them have gone missing, most probably hunting the ghoul responsible for yet another tragedy. As of now, there is nothing else known. I will notify you the moment I hear something new.'

Keiichi appeared on full screen once again. He started summarizing all the intelligence Chieko was able to give us, but I wasn't listening anymore.

This surely had to be some kind of joke. This just couldn't be happening. No, no, no. Oh god, was this meant to be some cruel joke? It had to be one.

I could accept being reborn in my own world—Universe?—but this was absurd. Being reincarnated into a manga or anime should have been impossible. No, it was impossible. Whatever higher entity had sent me here couldn't have been so cruel.

Tokyo Ghoul.

One of the most fucked up manga I had ever read. The word 'tragic' wasn't strong enough to describe it. I remembered loving and hating it in equal measures. Especially after they killed Ka...ne..ki.

Oh my fucking god. Kaneki Ken. I had a twin brother who was named Kaneki Ken.

If this...if this was real, then I had been reborn as the twin sister of the Kaneki Ken. One of the most tragic fictional characters to ever exist. I doubted that this universe had two Kaneki Ken's running around the place and even if it did I didn't think that I was that lucky.

Black spots started to appear before my eyes. The blood that rushed to my head stopped any sound from registering in my mind.

Why was this happening? I didn't want to be Kaneki Ken's twin sister. I never asked for any of this. Maybe it wasn't real? It could be some TV show. Live action?

My vision faded completely. Someone grabbed my arms before I collided with the floor.

What did I do to deserve this? Why did it have to be Tokyo Ghoul? Almost every other fandom would have been better than this one.

Provided that this truly was Tokyo Ghoul and Ken was the Kaneki Ken, it might actually be better for me to murder us both. Compared to what the future held in store for us, death would have been a blessing.

What did that make me? The fact that I was considering murdering a baby and committing suicide afterwards.

Hysterical laughter. Was it mine?

The fictional world of Tokyo Ghoul had now become factual. Was I mad?

The darkness grabbed me like a vicious lover. Unwelcome and fear-inducing.

When would I finally wake up from this nightmare?

I was mad. I just had to be.

There was no other explanation for my current predicament. Being reborn was something that I could accept. The concept of an afterlife had always been believable to me and never did the idea cross my mind that I would just disappear after death.

I didn't know where I would go, but there had to be someplace for the dead. Be it hell, heaven or a completely new life, I always believed that I wouldn't just cease to exist.

The reason for why I just couldn't easily accept that I had been reborn was that I hadn't been ready to die.

I had been only sixteen years old, not even out of school. Suddenly, I had to face the fact that I had lost everything. My family, my home, my future. There was not a thing left.

And lets not forget about my death. I was sure we all agreed that it wasn't a pleasant one. If I could make a list of ways I would wish to die of, drowning would have been among the last few options.

Accepting that I died and lost everything in the process hadn't been easy. Accepting that I had been reborn into a fictional universe was outright impossible.

My sanity must have completely dwindled. I could only guess that I must have been admitted into some mental institution and was currently laying in some bed, trapped in my own little world.

While not enjoyable, it would certainly explain everything.

After all, reincarnating into another universe couldn't be possible.

It just couldn't be real.

Kaneki Akemi's biggest dream was becoming a doctor.

She had to give up on that dream when Ken and I were born. There was no time for studying. Not enough money for her little family to survive. With her being the only one who could bring money home, there was no time for anything but work.

Somehow, I knew that a small part of her resented us for her misfortune.

If it weren't for us, she would be studying at a university and fulfilling her dreams. She would have time to meet up with friends in the evening and gossip about meaningless things.

Instead the young woman—She seemed to be about twenty-one years old now.—had a harsh job that payed her less than we actually needed. Akemi woke up early in the morning and came back home in the afternoon. Then she let our father have a little time for himself and fed both me and Ken.

During the evening she had about two hours of freedom. She liked reading some of our father's books. Most times mother fell asleep doing just that.

This was a routine she repeated each day. Only Sundays were off. But even then she couldn't truly rest. There were two infants that needed to be taken care of.

Father left the house on almost every Sunday. From morning till evening he was nowhere to be seen.

My parents' relationship suffered severely from that.

''You need to calm down, Akemi!'' Father's voice resonated through the whole apartment. His anger so profound that I could almost feel it.

''Calm down!? Calm down!?'' The sound of glass shattering followed mother's screech. ''Do not tell me to calm down! I have had enough of this! Coming home each day to find you lazing around! You do nothing. Nothing!''

Silence reigned our home for a second. Then another one. ''What do you want me to do? You refuse to use the money I acquire and it would be too dangerous for me to get proper job. Besides, we both know that one of us has to stay home with the children!''

''What we both know is that everything that leaves your mouth are weak excuses!'' I could imagine how she threw her hands up and gestured wildly in all directions. ''My sister is pregnant. She's staying at home and could take care of them for a while.''

I felt a small hand twisting my shirt. Ken was trembling slightly and big tears were streaming down his cheeks. ''Wei? Why angwy?''

My heart broke. He did not deserve this. A child shouldn't have to witness its parents arguing like that. ''Is alight, Ken. Is alight.''

We were inside our nursery, in a far corner of the room. My sweet brother had deemed this place to be the safest. Children could be so irrational sometimes.

His small ten month's old body leaned into mine. There was nothing I could do but try to sooth him with my presence and touch.

I pulled his head onto my lap and started to stroke his short hair gently. He always liked it when our mother did that. I hoped my touch would calm him just as hers would have.

''Wei?'' The little boy pointed at the door in question.

I wasn't sure what he meant, so I continued stroking his hair and hoped that the loud shouts would soon cease to exist. To comfort Ken, I even started to hum a lullaby my first mother used to sing for me.

His trembling lessened, but the tears continued to flow.

''...ou truly are out of you mind! There is no way for us to leave them with your sister!'' Father paused to take a breath. ''Perhaps you want them to be in danger. Perhaps you just want to get rid of the three of us!''

The next thing I heard was a loud slap. For once I thought it was deserved. What father had said was a low blow.

Mother did not deserve this.

''Don't you dare say something like this ever again! I gave up on everything for you and our children. On everything.'' There was the rattling of keys. Mother's footsteps headed down the hallway.

The entrance door opened and closed with a loud thud.

Father turned off the light in the hallway and living room.

In the darkness of the night silence surrounded us once again. We did not dare to make a sound.