In the midst of winter, right at the end of the rainy season, the silence of the streets was broken by loud footsteps. A runaway was on the loose with a black leather bag under his arm, running from a group of depressingly dressed dangerous men.
Street lamps had a dim red light that glowed on the blue walls to create an aesthetic of a sort. The last rain of the season was going down, bringing sounds of heavy drops and breaths of white clouds.
The boy's short hair and bangs got heavier with each step into the rain until it was completely soaked. Not only the pursuers, but the exhaustion was catching up as well. The fire going off in his lungs wasn't helping either.
He took the last of his energy and slipped and sled around a corner. His eye sight was blurry, but he could still manage to see three black figures pass right by him, leaving him unnoticed. He pushed his back against the wall and sled down slowly panting hard. "Finally... it's mine...."
He had to find a new place. Back home was probably already destroyed, crumbled into a whole knew existence. He tried to stand up, tried, almost tripping over thin air if not for the wall he swiftly supported himself on. He exited and started walking while stripping his jacket off and throwing it into a puddle of water in front of him. Only a dark drown vest and a cream shirt with long sleeves remained on top. He restyled his hair, combing his bangs up with pale and cold fingers.
In the darkness of the night, there was a warm orange light emanating from a bar right across the street, through an alley between a pair of yellow buildings.
He walked in, pushing the door open, a kind scent of coffee floating in the air. There was a stage that still had its curtain shut. There was a little space below them where dancing shadows were visible. A show was yet to start.
It was fairly packed, but not suffocating. A table for a single place was located on a platform right in front of the stage with various other occupied seats scattered around it. Rather than a bar it was more of a coffee place for eccentric people that would think of going out this late at night–night owls actually.
He sat down, noticing a waiter approaching him. A tanned guy with chin length straight dark hair and an amusing eye patch. He almost felt sorry, he had an eye patch on as well, but for such a young person other than himself to have that bad of an eye problem gave away a sad detail of their past.
The waiter smiled nonetheless and greeted the customer with utmost cheeriness. "We match." he said, smiling back. "I'm surprised to see an eye patch mate at such a usual night."
Both chuckled and exchanged names: Kaneki Ken and Tooru Mutsuki.
"A coffee of your recommendation then."
"Perfect! Your order will be ready in a few minutes."
He said, then left to deliver the order to another person behind the counter.
While waiting for his beverage Kaneki looked around the place when most of the lights went off. Only the ones at the counter were on and a few others here and there. It was completely quiet, except for the sound of the curtains parting, revealing a single figure.
Long blonde hair, shiny red lips and light brown eyes with curved ends. It was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen, except for another person left somewhere deep in his memories.
She began singing in a long black dress, glittering with the orange lights. No wonder all these people went through the trouble of coming here: for the eighth wonder of the world. In Kaneki's world at least.
His coffee arrived with yellow petals on the cup's plate alongside a sunflower shaped coffee spoon below two sugar cubes. Both bowed their heads slightly with smiles before Mutsuki left to deliver other cups to other tables.
He added the cubes and mixed them well before dropping the spoon back on the plate. He almost spilled it a few times because his eyes and ears were mesmerized by the pleasure of the calming atmosphere that drove his mind into a drunken state.
He brought the cup up to his lips for a sip just when his eyes widened. The lady was looking at him, quite surprised as well. It was a moment of instant teleportation of an aching longing between the two. Then the rest of it was like a scene straight out of a romantic tragedy where the two strangers fall in love only for one of them's past to consume the other.
But that wouldn't happen, since it was only fiction.
She sang–for him this time–and he listened, gradually drinking the entire coffee until the song ended with a sweet glance of another secret message mailed to Kaneki, and only Kaneki.
