For When Your Heart is Broken

11: Dinner

{MAJOR GORE WARNING... This is Tokyo Ghoul, guys, so... idk why I'm warning, but... just a little head's up, since I haven't really featured anything quite this graphic so far.}

The Gourmet had felt like doing something unnecessary, and, without a doubt, he would. In a manner that was just as cruel as it was unmerciful.

He tightened his hand into a fist, the leather of his glove squeaking out in protest.
"First, I'll probably take out that filthy lying tongue of yours..." He murmured, leaning towards the man cowering at his feet. "You claimed to have a spouse, yes? Thinking I would pity you...?" The sharp spikes of his canines were glinting sinisterly in the darkness, "How pathetic." He spat angrily, "No spouse. Direct relatives: dead, you're disowned... have no children. A dead-beat divorcé without a career."

"Had you not lied... I may have allowed you to keep your hands~"
A strangled scream tore out of the victim's throat as Shuu snapped his right index finger, then the middle. They both bent completely backwards, hanging only by the ligaments that once allowed their dexterity. Then, the Ghoul tore the hand off entirely, dislodging the socket as flesh stripped away from muscle, then the blood began flowing much quicker.
A crazed smirk appeared on his lips, and Tsukiyama heard himself laugh for the first time in what seemed to be years. He closed his hand around the opposite shoulder, dislocating it and popping it out of the socket before tearing it completely off altogether. Now, his victim was screaming.
Grotesquely, the detached arm twitched and writhed, the fingers flexing for a second before it fell limp entirely. Cursing, shouting, begging for mercy, the man gasped and coughed, becoming choked up on his own mucus.
"PLEASE, PLEASE, STOP, I'LL DO ANYTHING, JUST PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP!" He howled, writhing around in the binds that held his legs helplessly.
The other victims were now crying and sniffling behind the tape that held in their screams.
Shuu would get to them in a moment, surely; for now, he was going to take his time with this screaming fuck who thought it would be a good idea to lie right to his face.

"Mm? Make it stop?" Tsukiyama leaned in very close, "Would you like me to kill you...?"
The response was incoherent of course, and it had Shuu somewhere between amused and annoyed.
"Do you want to die?" He reiterated, closing his fingers around the man's throat as he pulled him upward, "Do you want to stop hurting?"

Sobbing, squawling, drooling, the man nodded, crying out not for his life, but for release.
Shuu feigned pity, his lips turning down in a frown. He uncapped the gas lantern he had brought in, and the flame flickered to life.
His expression was visible to the tortured man; Tsukiyama looked like he was in pain as well.

"I would also like to stop hurting, love..." He mumbled, "Make peace with your god."

Tears were streaming steadily down the writhing, armless man's face, soaking into his blood-and-sweat-stained shirt, and he cooed out an apology.
"I'm... so... sorry..."
Tsukiyama allowed for a small grin, "Goodnight." He said, then closed his hand around tighter until the struggles had stopped. One final, violent jerk later, the man fell slack.
He looked as at peace as one could with no arms...

"I'm feeling a bit merciful tonight..." The Gourmet hummed, adjusting his gloves with a dazzlingly handsome smile, "Who'd like to go next?"

It was going to be a long night...

Meanwhile, back home:

A sudden moment of clarity reached Kaneki after the phone had gone silent in his hand from Hori having hung up on him so suddenly.
Why did this just occur to me? I could have asked her that sooner. He has to have a phone!

Kankei called Chie back multiple times, and she finally picked up after the fifth try.

"Make it quick. I'm busy." She deadpanned.
"Do you know Tsukiyama-san's phone number?" He asked her.
"He hasn't been answering me. Why do you think he'd answer you?"
"This isn't my phone." Said Ken.
"Oh? An unknown number?" Some shuffling was audible in the background on her end, "Alright, then, I'll give it to you. Have a pen nearby?"
His shoulders visibly slumped with relief when she said this. "No, but I can remember it."
"I'll only tell you this once..." She began, then listed off the digits quickly without pause.
Ken made a mental note not to fuck them up, and repeated them to himself after her departing word: "Bye."

Hastily, Ken tapped the numbers into the device he was holding; he was sweating all of a sudden, and his breath was audible in his own ears as he listened to the ringer chime repetitively. It was painful to wait, and he groaned out in frustration as the man's melodic voicemail message sounded.

"Bonjour! C'est Moi, Tsukiyama Shuu. I'm sorry that I cannot accept your call right now, but if you'd leave a message with your callback number, I'll be happy to return it as soon as possible! Wait for the beep, and have a nice day. Au revoir!"

The white-haired male broke down in tears at the sound of Shuu's voice, giving a choked sob as he hung up before the message could record.
He tried again and was met with the same result.
"Third time's a charm..." He said to himself, sniffling before trying one more time.

A few rings before the pre-recorded message, he was about to hang up, but suddenly...
Click.

"Allô? Who is this?" A smooth, though very clearly exhausted, voice answered, sounding as if the person had just awoken in the middle of the night.

Kaneki gave a shuddering gasp and collapsed to his knees.