For When Your Heart is Broken

13: The Sinner

...

不全, Fuzen is a rare name with rather negative connotation: its meaning is sin, mischief, or incomplete.
It is both masculine and feminine, though highly uncommon. Here, our dearest Fuzen returns, but not for long.

...

    Tsukiyama Shuu was up and dressed in a flash, and he sighed into the phone as Kaneki continued quietly, uncontrollably sobbing.

"Regaurdez, mon cher, I... I need to make another call." He stated softly, swapping languages smoothly, "May I call you back at this number?"
"Mm... mhm..." Ken sniffed, "Yeah."
"Alright, then I'll ask you to hang up first, so that I may keep my promise. Okay?"
"I... I don't wanna."

    Ken's tone was both stubborn and whiney. Shuu almost allowed himself a chuckle, but he stifled it.

"Is Ganache there?" He asked instead.
"W-who?" The nickname bounced off of Ken, and he was so confused that he actually stopped crying.
Thankful for the side-effect, Shuu smiled, "Ah, Nishiki... is Nishiki there?" He elaborated, the jingling of keys in his hand making the other male perk up.
"No...?" Said male hummed, looking to the entrance of the 24th Ward.
"Go get him."

    If Kaneki wouldn't hang up on Tsukiyama, Nishio sure as hell would.

"Okay," Ken mumbled, and the shuffling sounds of him getting to his feet were audible. It seemed he was struggling for a moment, then there was the annoyed-sounding chatter of a familiar voice paired with the relieved sigh from his King. He hadn't needed to look after all, as the Serpent Ghoul had come up himself, in search of the missing leader.
Leadership status aside, Nishio was concerned all the same.

"Senpai..."
"Gimme that." Nishiki snapped, approaching the white-haired male with a scowl.
He snatched the phone, then proceeded to swear at the Gourmet like the dog he was.

"Look here, you arrogant fuck," Began the brunette, his hand on his hip. Kaneki simply stared after him in shock, unable to interject even if he wanted to. "I don't know what the hell has gotten into you, but I hope to whatever god feels like listening that you're prepared for the ass-beating I'm about to give to you when you get it the fuck back here." He stated, adjusting his glasses onto his face with a stern hand. Tsukiyama could imagine it now, the downturned lips of his angry frown and those mussed chocolate waves falling just behind the frames of his trademark ovular glasses.
"I understand, Ganache, I hear you loud and clear," Tsukiyama replied smoothly. Ken could hear both ends of the conversation as he continued, "I'm on my way home now." He added.

    Ken's shoulders slumped with relief.

"Alright, asshole." His dear Ganache responded snappily, "Bye."
"Goodbye now." Shuu waved his fingers to a figure that couldn't even see him.
The snapping sound of the cheap flip-phone clicked in Nishio's hand, and he passed it to Ken with a wrinkled nose.
"Stop snotting everywhere, kid." Serpent ordered, wiping Kaneki's face with the sleeve of his sweater, "Your dumbass boyfriend is gonna be back in no time."
"He's not—"
"Yeah, yeah..."
Nishio wasn't listening, already on his way back inside to get the hell out of the cold.

...

    Tsukiyama made a single phone call, and then he was off.
The cold grip of nightfall had sunken its claws into the small country known as Belgium many hours ago, and those hours now grew smaller once more as the hours approached daybreak.
It was now two o'clock in the morning.
Time was ticking. His way had finally found him, and there was one other person that he needed help from again.

...

    A shadowed figure appeared, slender and slightly delicate, though no clear curves were visible, so gender was still questionable. As they approached, the outline of their clothing grew more apparent, as did the expression on their pale face.
A pinstriped vest and nondescript trousers, along with a navy blue string bowtie. They wore glasses on the bridge of their nose, of which were tinted shades, and a hand rest delicately on their hip.

"Good morning, Shuu-sama." Fuzen greeted with a mischievous smile as if to say, I was right all along, and you knew, didn't you? The servant's pure white, elongated Ghoul-fangs peeked out from their lips while they cocked their head back. "Il y a longtemps, non?" [Fr. "It's been a long time, no?"] (Sarcasm intended.) Fuzen held a Tupperware container full of little bits of flesh; they had just come from a hunt, it seemed.
Tsukiyama smiled, happy to see a familiar face, despite hardly being acquainted with the servant. 

"Bonjour..." He replied, swinging his keys around the loop on his finger, "I'll drive... that is, if you don't mind?"
"Well, as much as I'd love to stay gracious and in service, I can't say I'd absolutely hate it if you did the driving." Fuzen tilted the frames of their specs down, "I haven't slept in three days."
"My apologies."
"Not your fault. My nasty Goshujin-sama is to blame." They popped a cube of meat in their mouth, "Tell 'em I said that and I'll kill you." Added the person, turning on their heel, "Come."

Somehow, Fuzen had known where Shuu was parked.
No big shock there, really, servants were highly perceptive; finding where a master parked their car should be no problem at all, even if they had no idea which car was the one they were looking for.

"Unlock it, Shuu-sama."
"Ah, right!" Shuu clicked the lock-button, and Fuzen held the door open for him, then closed it as well before clambering into the passenger seat, Tupperware bowl in hand.
"Let's get the hell out of this place..." They murmured, clicking the seatbelt over their chest into place.