author's note;
04/03/15 — A very long wait for... a very short update. Oops. Chapters will become longer as I get a more solid idea for the sequence of events, since, unlike my other multi-chaptered fic, I don't have everything meticulously plotted out yet.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter nonetheless.

Kaneki remains by her side after their little reunion has ended.

She knows it's only a temporary thing, however. He will ditch her without a moment of hesitation as soon as he's sure it's safe to do so. She's sure that he'll disappear from her life once again, as soon as he knows no harm will come to her.

(She would be happy, under any other circumstances.

But these are not any other circumstances.)

"Touka," he quietly says to her, and she sorely feels the absence of the old honorific. "You should go back."

But she's adamant, shaking her head and making an effort to keep her face carefully blank. "No," she replies, voice hoarse. She refuses to cry after today. "Like hell I'm going back to them, so shut up. I'm staying with you."

She thinks he sighs, but she's not too sure. His mask keeps her from seeing anything other than his left eye.

When nighttime approaches, they find a dingy (but miraculously still standing) building to spend the night in. A house, she presumes, judging by the structure and some of the utilities that were left behind during the great exodus. Briefly, she wonders if the former occupants had a family to care for; children that would cry and weep as they were suddenly uprooted from their home, forced to go into hiding thanks to another person's ideals.

She dismisses the thought as quickly as it comes. There is no time to think about those things. Surviving in the present is hard enough when she isn't busy worrying about the past.

They huddle together until the wee hours of the morning, wrapped in threadbare blankets scavenged from the surrounding wreckage. She's not really sure if Kaneki actually sleeps during that first night, but when she's jolted awake by the sound of something (or more accurately, someone) making a racket outside their makeshift shelter, he's already awake and ready to defend himself if necessary.

As it turns out, it's always necessary.

When the sun rises over the horizon, Touka pushes a stray strand of dirty hair out of her eye. Behind her, she feels Kaneki shifts, undoubtedly adjusting his mask and staring at the corpse at their feet. Touka notes, with mild horror, that she can't even bring herself to be disgusted over the sight of viscera. It's become as common a sight to her these days, as her father's smile used to be three years ago.

"What was his name?" Kaneki asks her, his tone low. She wonders if he regrets all that's happened.

Touka kneels, the heels of her shoes clicking against the cracked concrete floor, and picks up the man's attach case. She once rubbed shoulders with him, but that was ages ago; the body before her might as well belong to a stranger. When she turns around to glance at Kaneki, his kakugan is active.

Two years of training tells her to attack.

She pointedly ignores those two years of training.

"It doesn't matter," she replies. "Let's keep moving."

And despite herself, she's not entirely sure she made the right decision.

( etcetera )