note: this was something that came out to me out of a whim. i love the kirishima siblings, and am incredibly chapfallen at the very few number of fics about these two. so, ah, here.
note2: there's a season-two in january. but can someone clarify me if the manga's ended? i can't — i just uta —
disclaimer: if i owned tokyo ghoul, kaneki wouldn't have you know, dammit. /spoilerrr
drabble.

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Sometimes, Ayato likes to think he's doing a fairly good job in taking care of Touka.

He remembered, leaning against a red-splattered wall, that they took care of a little bird, onceuponatime — when they were little, that is, still kids and innocent and really, really naïve. They used to even go so far for the little bird; sacrificing themselves under the broad sweltering heat in the younger years of a summer-afternoon. Small, dainty hands clawing determinedly on the dirty grime of the earth in their local park, looking, finding for food — worms, in particular.

"Eee!" cried Ayato back then — his chubby hands shooting up to his face frantically as he anxiously peered on the well-being of his beloved, older sister behind the small gaps of his tiny digits. "Nee-chan! That's too gross!"

He was such a pussy, back then.

Touka, in the past, with girly, parted hair, held-fast by that small, rabbit clip, could only react like any other older sister would—

(He remembered being scared as fuck back then — the thought of Touka dissing on him for being such a huge coward was the greatest fear his child-self could ever have. And so he waited nervously for his sister to mock or even bully him for being such a no-good, immature boy—)

But Touka had been different.

And he knew that to be true, especially now, as he watched her through heavy-lidded eyes — her; standing in the middle of the chaos in the 11th Ward, despite the long trail of blood tricking down from the ridge of her parted lips and the huge hollow hole of gore pierced right through her middle, made only by one of the many brutal, crystallized attacks his kagune had been adept with.

She stood, no matter how much he shot her down. She fought, no matter how much she knew how strong he had become.

Touka was different.

"Baaa–ka," sneered Ayato, stepping up forward and feeling his kagune creep leisurely around the blades of his shoulders, flashing vivid electric sparks of power as his eyes swiveled a deep, dark shade of ebony and crimson. "You're weak, stupid onee-chan—"

Before he could say more, there's a blur of pretty red and violet crystals charging at him head-on, and he does all he can just to hide that small smirk that threatens to eat his whole face, when their wings meet.

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(In the end, Touka — with neat, dissevened strands, and a small rabbit clip tucked mildly on the left side of her head — just laughs and intertwines her little brother's hand in hers, tugging him gently to the ground.)

end