[He didn't want to admit it, but he had found plenty of reason not to regret his decision to include Tsukiyama in on what his small group was trying to accomplish. There were benefits to having him around—it was no secret that he was the only truly competent fighter among their number (besides Kaneki himself), which was useful both in times such as this and when they were combing through ghoul conclaves for more information, a careful game of honey and poison, cordial words and threats. He also couldn't deny the fact that Tsukiyama was well-connected, not only with information but with money, apparently. Kaneki didn't ask questions (quite frankly not caring enough to hear), but he didn't argue when they were practically outfitted by Tsukiyama's "generosity."
But Kaneki never for a moment allowed himself to lose sight of what Tsukiyama's true intentions are with their alliance. He had his uses, sure, but he was (to use a metaphor he might find some identification with) the keenest knife in a chef's collection—sharp enough to make certain tasks much easier but also more than willing to cut at one's hands the second attention was diverted elsewhere.
It was why, when the other ghoul was around, Kaneki tended to keep a constant vigilance of him. Even leading him down the hallway as he does now, back turned and posture deceptively casual, he had all of his senses honed on anything out of the ordinary. Tsukiyama wasn't stupid enough to brazenly attack him in their house, in their hall at least, but it was something of a different story when they fought like this. Another unspoken insinuation of how they handled the rules—if Tsukiyama managed to get the better of him, it would most likely prove to bring him that much closer to his goal.
As if Kaneki needed any more reason to fight at his best.
He watches Tsukiyama carefully as he enters the room, hearing rather than listening to what he said, scrutinizing rather than watching every movement. He had realized some time ago (perhaps first when he fought Yamori, more so in the weeks after) that one could read a person's movements the same they might a book. Read enough and you could anticipate certain "tropes" and story structures—read the same enough and you knew what was coming exactly when. He was still memorizing Tsukiyama, but there was enough he had already gleaned. He had a sort of "gratuitous motion" to his movements, a flourish meant for aesthetic sense and nothing more. It could distract some, but Kaneki had started to learn how to see through the gesture to the straight lines of the architecture beneath the artifice.
He rolls his shoulders in a single, fluid motion, two claws of his kagune snaking out from underneath the him of his shirt. Months ago it had been difficult enough to muster just one, teetering as he was on the edge of general starvation. Now it had become a matter of "two, for now," knowing that it was barely a draw on him now.
He answers Tsukiyama's question in affirmative by lurching forward without a single second's delay. Tsukiyama might be hungry, sure, but so is Kaneki.
Another thing he'd noticed as he continued to fight—there was a sort of axis of balance that differed between ghouls, largely reliant on whatever type of kagune they had. With his koukaku, it was all about the rotation and movement of the shoulders for Tsukiyama. He kept an eye on that first, though he had an arguable advantage. Kaneki's, as a rinkaku, was the middle, the waist, high mobility and versatility. Even now he approaches fast in a half-crouch, one claw of his kagune half-raised in wait to intercept any counter-attack as the surges forward, no hesitation to pierce the "shell" curved around Tsukiyama's shoulder.
no subject
But Kaneki never for a moment allowed himself to lose sight of what Tsukiyama's true intentions are with their alliance. He had his uses, sure, but he was (to use a metaphor he might find some identification with) the keenest knife in a chef's collection—sharp enough to make certain tasks much easier but also more than willing to cut at one's hands the second attention was diverted elsewhere.
It was why, when the other ghoul was around, Kaneki tended to keep a constant vigilance of him. Even leading him down the hallway as he does now, back turned and posture deceptively casual, he had all of his senses honed on anything out of the ordinary. Tsukiyama wasn't stupid enough to brazenly attack him in their house, in their hall at least, but it was something of a different story when they fought like this. Another unspoken insinuation of how they handled the rules—if Tsukiyama managed to get the better of him, it would most likely prove to bring him that much closer to his goal.
As if Kaneki needed any more reason to fight at his best.
He watches Tsukiyama carefully as he enters the room, hearing rather than listening to what he said, scrutinizing rather than watching every movement. He had realized some time ago (perhaps first when he fought Yamori, more so in the weeks after) that one could read a person's movements the same they might a book. Read enough and you could anticipate certain "tropes" and story structures—read the same enough and you knew what was coming exactly when. He was still memorizing Tsukiyama, but there was enough he had already gleaned. He had a sort of "gratuitous motion" to his movements, a flourish meant for aesthetic sense and nothing more. It could distract some, but Kaneki had started to learn how to see through the gesture to the straight lines of the architecture beneath the artifice.
He rolls his shoulders in a single, fluid motion, two claws of his kagune snaking out from underneath the him of his shirt. Months ago it had been difficult enough to muster just one, teetering as he was on the edge of general starvation. Now it had become a matter of "two, for now," knowing that it was barely a draw on him now.
He answers Tsukiyama's question in affirmative by lurching forward without a single second's delay. Tsukiyama might be hungry, sure, but so is Kaneki.
Another thing he'd noticed as he continued to fight—there was a sort of axis of balance that differed between ghouls, largely reliant on whatever type of kagune they had. With his koukaku, it was all about the rotation and movement of the shoulders for Tsukiyama. He kept an eye on that first, though he had an arguable advantage. Kaneki's, as a rinkaku, was the middle, the waist, high mobility and versatility. Even now he approaches fast in a half-crouch, one claw of his kagune half-raised in wait to intercept any counter-attack as the surges forward, no hesitation to pierce the "shell" curved around Tsukiyama's shoulder.
Unspoken, again: we shall.]