The Devil Within | Chapter One | Top of the Food Chain
Early fall to midwinter in Tokyo is my favorite time of the year. It signifies the end of September's dark and rainy days. The region becomes a work of art – 8 meter tall Magnolia trees line the avenue in deep shades of red, gold, and orange. It's just so magical. What's not to love about it? Humans tend to flock here during this time, more than average, because they are taught to believe that they're in safe hands. But I disagree.
To a starved ghoul like myself, even the rain guarantees an easy meal, but also the risk of investigators. They've killed more of my kind than I'd like to admit, but with winter on the approach the Doves are less likely to stick around Nerima for long. The 20th ward is protected, and has been docile for more than ten years now, but as of late, I've seen more and more of them roaming around the streets. Could this be because of her?
I bare my teeth at the thought of the binge eater – may she rot – and force myself to enjoy the afternoon as I walk along the empty street to my last stop; a small neighborhood café on the corner. I'm late, but not exactly expected on today.
I take the long way around the shop from the alley and enter through the back door – my usual approach into Anteiku. Being discreet is how I like to live. I've been this way since I came to Nerima, always cautious that I don't draw attention to myself. I assume that years of playing make-believe with the humans has made me this way, and to some degree I'm proud of that. Not exactly the style I like, however.
My ears pick up noise from the galley; a person most likely. I want to surprise Touka this time, as I'm sure she is the one clanking about, however I am certain the teenage girl, keen as she is to my reckless behavior, won't be shocked in the least. Unexpectedly, I find myself to be the one in awe, coming into the room to see a person from whom I've never had the pleasure of meeting before – a young man wearing a medical patch over his left eye. Ken Kaneki, I've been told.
Rumors tend to spread like wild fire across each of the twenty-three wards when relating to ghouls, but I will admit, getting to set eyes on the most talked about person in the ghoul community – in addition to the fabled one-eyed owl – is much better than what Itori has told me.
He's thinner than I pictured; a lot weaker in contrast to a natural ghoul, but he smells mouthwatering.
I wet my lips, chapped from the cool air outside and resolve to introduce myself to him. My heart pumps in excitement. This sentiment I'm feeling is something from my past. It's the thrill of hunting, I suppose.
Carefully as to not let my presence be known, I tip toe closer to him and ready myself to pounce. Kaneki has his back to me, busy with folding up a fleece blanket that he positions over his left arm. Beneath his right, he steadies an empty serving dish that suggests customers in the room behind the door with the staff only sign hanging from it. Caution is key; to not alert and danger myself or the human patrons while I have my fun is the inner goal of this mission.
I spring into action only when Kaneki makes a move for the door, curving my slender arms around his neck and shoulders. As a precaution to prevent him from making a scene I place my hand over his mouth. He mumbles something in objection, but I pay him no attention. Instead I offer him a gentle laugh as an indication of no hostility towards him.
"Good evening, Eyepatch," I purr. "Please excuse my informality, but I just had to come and meet you."
One thing I have come to expect from someone of the opposite sex is when stuck in a situation where they must deal with a conflicting force such as a woman, they tend to misplace their good judgment. But in Kaneki's instance, his body goes to a standstill and tenses up. He feels to be at odds with my embrace, perhaps because I am a ghoul and he can smell it. I too am aware of his kind.
The anxiety I can taste makes his sweet scent amplify beyond good sense. I smell the weak but pleasant aroma of fear seep through his pores and succumb to my nature as a ghoul. What harm can be done from just a taste?
Burying my nose in his soft, black tresses, a rough sigh escapes my lips. He smells even better like this; a blend of alluring scents that in words are hard to describe. I've never encountered anything like Kaneki before, but while in joy as I may be, I also feel the unrefined pain of hunger twisting in my gut. This feeling is without a doubt indescribable, but even so I know the after-effects of eating the flesh of my own kind – I am a living product of this. I take away my arms from his figure and step in front of him, brushing my shoulder with his as I pass.
"Don't be alarmed. I didn't come here to hurt you," I assure him upon meeting his apprehensive stare. How could I blame him? I did just attack him out of the blue and in theory admit my intentions to him. Complicated as this situation may be, I applaud him for his patience.
His eyes stay focused on me, but they increase noticeably with uncertainties I suspect he will want answered. Instead he resolves to be an idiot, rubbing beneath his chin with a fake edginess to his expression. "I'm sorry miss, but I don't know what you're talking about." His voice weakens; concern for his own well-being. Or is it concern for the humans in the next room?
The corner of my lips sink into a frown. "Worried? There is nothing for you to be worried about, Kaneki-kun. I already told you of my intentions."
"You said that you needed to come and meet me," he restates my words. His voice weakens. "What did you want to see me for?"
"Who doesn't?" I admit. His apprehension shakes me to the bone. I'm not sure this boy knows how delicious he looks scared. I hum a happy tune beneath my breath while I try to think of how to start. Kaneki is tolerant at least, waiting on me to give him a better explanation. He watches me prance in circles in front of him, swaying my arms from side to side until I decide to speak. At last a smile curls at my lips as I hum in approval. I spin on my heels and face him. "First, sorry about the scare. It wasn't my intention, but when I saw you standing there I couldn't help myself."
"I wasn't scared," he tries to lie.
"No need to lie, Kaneki-kun. I can smell it on you." To make my point across I sniff the air, taking in the richness of coffee with a sigh of satisfaction. I enjoy teasing the shy, young man. His face tints a lovely shade of red that brings a smile to my face.
I allow myself the chance to look at him more closely as I wait for the tension to die down. Kaneki appears pale, more than usual I note. It suggests his well-being is unbalanced, worrying me into thinking that he has something weighing on his mind other than his recent predicament. I heard from Itori that he clings to his human self still, but even I know his body has adjusted to the organs taken from the binge eater, making human food intolerable to him. I wonder if he starves himself, somehow wishing that his other side will take dominance. For his sake, I hope so, but I know better.
"Secondly, what I said earlier was a lie. I didn't actually come here to meet you, but I have heard mention of you from Itori," I admit. "I can be eccentric at times, but I'm sure you've heard all about me as well. It's a pleasure to meet you." I give him a quick turn-of-the-head smile in hopes of breaking the ice between us.
A moment later, within the dead of silence I hear him breathe deeply. Maybe he is off the defense. Now that I think about it, I would like to have seen his kagune up close and personal. Word is, he inherited it from Rize.
Kaneki returns the smile. "Mirai, right?" I nod to confirm his question. His body seems to relax at this. "Yeah, I've heard about you from Touka. Unpredictable is more of the word she used to describe you though."
"Unpredictable you say?" I lift a brow.
"N-Not a bad sort of unpredictable," he stutters. "She says you're very friendly, even to strangers. I guess I mucked that up, didn't I?"
I giggle at his nervous tone. From the way that he acts, I'd almost guess he doesn't know very many females aside from Touka. I can't imagine how her sour attitude has lead him to befriend her so quickly. It took me years to accomplish what he already has in just a few months.
"It's quite alright."
After our brief and rather informative engagement, Kaneki allows me to lead us into the main room where the coffee is brewed. Immediately I come to a standstill, eyes wide in child-like wonder and mind rolling with questions at the site that lay out before me. Touka stands against the bar, arms linked beneath her chest, holding a glare at a man's body that lays passed out on the floor.
"Who's ass did you kick this time, Touka?"
She gives me a glare. "What makes you think I had anything to do with this?"
I was right; she's not surprised. However, I am. The shy, young man before me is responsible for this?
"No way! Kaneki-kun beat this guy up?"
"It was an accident," he retorts in defense. "He was acting crazy, thinking that I was dating Rize, then attacked me. My reflexes sort of kicked in and I defended myself. I didn't mean to knock him out." His pale cheeks dusted with a shade of pink.
I am speechless. This guy is out cold. Impressive, but regardless of the scenario that played out moments before I walked through the door, true or not, Yoshimura-san is sure to be unimpressed. There is an unconscious ghoul in his café, not to mention a rag-tag group of heathens in masks, nonchalantly drinking coffee as if nothing had ever transpired.
"So who is this guy anyway?" Directing my question to Touka, she pinches the bridge of her nose in annoyance and sends a cold glare at the three sitting at the table.
"Ghouls from the 11th ward. They came here thinking that Rize would be here," she answers. With a brief pause I assume she knows my next question before I have time to ask it. The despondent look that pales my face must have tipped her off. "They don't know yet. Kaneki is planning to tell the big guy when he wakes up." Her eyes slide closed.
"I see. Nevertheless, I feel bad for him." Obviously, he cared for her; the 11th ward is such a long trip to take just to see the lavender haired woman. Too bad she died not long back. Poor Kaneki has much to explain.
"So what are you doing here anyway?" Touka's question interrupts my thoughts. I nudge the guy with my foot and brush a lock of black hair behind my ear.
"I came to help out around the café. Mr. Yomo called me earlier, told me Yoshimura-san and he were on important business and thought Kaneki-kun and you could use the help," I answer.
"If you're busy, don't worry about it. I've got things covered for the rest of the shift."
I snort in laughter. "It's fine. As of right now I don't have any odd jobs to run so I thought it wouldn't be so bad to catch up with childhood friends. Kind of reminds me of back in the day, you know?"
Touka gives me a gentle smile. I'm happy she remembers those times, even if they were sometimes dark.
"You're going to need a uniform then. Should be a clean one in my closet that will fit you."
I rock back on my feet, and suddenly remember that Hinami is usually here. Since her mother and father were killed, she has been living in the guest room upstairs. "You don't mind if I check up on Hinami while I'm at it, do you? Is she here?"
"Be my guest," Touka replies frankly.
"Thanks birdie." She brushes off my playful taunt with a wave of her hand. I laugh and saunter up the stairs, heading for Touka's bedroom.
The door is unlocked, so I enter quickly and move over to the closet. Just as she told me, a spare uniform is hanging out for me. Taking a second to admire Touka's street clothing, I dress in the plain colored uniform – after rummaging through the dresser across the room for a pair of stockings – and leave the room. Hinami is in the spare next to Touka; a room I use to call my own for a brief time. I gently tap my knuckles across the bedroom door and clear my throat.
"Hinami, it's Mirai. Mind if I come in?"
A minute or two later, the door opens and a bright pair of brown eyes stare up at me. "Mirai, you came to visit," she says happily. Hinami allows me into her room, and takes a seat on the couch in the living area. Piles of books and a chunk of half-eaten meat are on the coffee table. I must have caught her in the middle of lunch.
My stomach whines in protest, but I ignore it and sit next to her. "I said I would, didn't I? Reading I see. Which book?"
"Still the same one as before. I've read it several times now, but I can't seem to put it down. Plus, Kaneki is teaching me a few new words every day. Guess what I learned?"
"Enlighten me," I say with a smile.
Books are not my idea of fun. While living in Bunkyou, I never really had time to read. But seeing Hinami so excited about learning makes it hard for me to be uninterested. She never went to school, much like myself, but she is at least self-taught.
The young teen lets out a gentle laugh and opens up her notepad, flipping to a page with only a few hand-written notes on it. "I learned the meanings of limerence and paroxysm. Can you guess what they mean?"
Honestly I have no idea. I shake my head.
"Limerence is a state of mind which results from a romantic attraction to another person and typically includes obsessive thoughts and fantasies and a desire to form or maintain a relationship with the object of love and have one's feelings reciprocated," she explains. I see, infatuated love. "Paroxysm is a sudden attack or violent expression of a particular emotion or activity. It's like a burst of laughter when something is funny." Or a fit of ravenous hunger.
I scratch my neck a little too hard. The sudden pain makes me flinch. "W-What type of books is Kaneki-kun letting you read?" It sounds like smut to me; adolescent angst maybe.
"Have you heard of Sen Takatsuki? It's a short story collection by her, called Monochrome Rainbow." The horror novelist? I know of her. I hum in agreement.
Hinami does not break into topic about the author, but goes into reading as I sit and relax a moment. I could return to the bottom floor, but the confrontation between Kaneki and the ghouls from the 11th ward is really none of my business. Instead, I resolve to sit here with Hinami until they're done. I lean my head back onto the frame of the couch and sigh in relief. This is nice; seeing old friends again.
The hum of the ceiling fan is the only noise I hear for a while, which is unusual to me. There are no voices. No screams of anger, nor cries of sadness. The café is silent as a grave. I strain to listen for the thread of conversation, but I hear nothing, apart from the sound of Hinami squirming about anxiously next to me.
The brunette sighs in what sounds like discomfort. "Mirai, I smell blood. It's faint, but I think it's coming from downstairs."
"Are you certain?" Hinami doesn't have to answer, because soon enough I smell it too. The fear is intoxicating. It smells like Kaneki. But something is off about it. The scent is everywhere, almost like his blood is scattered across the walls. "Sit tight for a bit. Lock the door and don't open it unless Touka or I tell you otherwise," I order the teen, clearing the saliva from the corners of my mouth. I turn to look at her. "Promise me."
Hinami is hesitant, but a sudden raise in my voice gets her to agree. Hastily I stand, making my way across the room with cautious steps. The door barely makes a sound as I open it and little by little slip out into the hall. I hear it immediately, clear as bells.
The hum of voices fill my ears. They speak quietly, but viciously to one another. As I close the gap between the stairwell and the doorway, I peak through a thin opening and see three additional figures in the parlor – their scent is like mine. The smell of blood and gutter filth masks my advance.
The closest to me, in front of the bar is a boy around my age. He dresses like a stubborn teenager in all black with long, messy hair. Strangely enough, he bares a striking resemblance to Touka. However, the rough-looking image he carries pales in comparison to the man in white.
This man – if he can be described as such – is an animal. His size is enormous, but his actions are what shake me to the bone. Kaneki's blood is all over him; all over the floor and the walls. But, his arm is shoved into the stomach of the third man – or woman. He dresses very elaborately for a man, wearing pink lipstick and colorful clothing. His reaction to the fist in his stomach borders on arousal, which incites a gag from me. How can he enjoy this?
At this time, Touka tries to attack the man in white. But, the teenager who resembles her jumps in the way. Touka has no time to dodge his punch while she's in midair and gets knocked to the floor.
"You're so weak, Touka. Just like dad," he tells her. So he's her brother. I remember her mentioning she had family somewhere, but I never would have expected him to be a ruthless brat.
His words seem to anger Touka, because she brings out her kagune. I watch as she attacks him, but it doesn't hit. He blocks at close range with a hardened kagune, much like the sort Touka has power over. A single vermilion wing on both his shoulders effortlessly outshines the single extension his sister uses against him. He's beautiful like this. I can't help but to stare.
His kagune whips open and shoots crystalized bullets at her. Touka is hit by them, and staggers to the floor in pain. Her clothing and skin are torn and covered in blood. I've never seen her like this before. It makes me sick.
My heart begins to race and my blood boils. Touka doesn't deserve this. Before I have time to think, I dash out from behind the door and leap over the bar; the focus of my retaliation being on the blue haired ghoul in question. Along with the power of my swing I activate my kakuja, which clads my body in armor. A black steel-like glove from my double bikaku covers my hands; the nails razor sharp.
I coil back my fingers and slash at the teenage boy, slicing three long gashes into his cheek. Quite a few strands of his silky, blue hair are cut in the process, but I manage not to remove his head. This form is impossible to control, but I am able to make it revert back into the bikaku type it once had been. However, I feel exhausted and have to stop using it. My kagune deteriorates and I am left without a weapon. I shouldn't have put off eating for so long.
What do I expect to do now?
The feminine-like ghoul whistles. "Was that a bikaku kakuja you just used? Not bad, sweetheart. I'm afraid it needs some work, however."
He's right; I didn't do much to Touka's brother. I did manage to piss him off though. He sizes my wrist, pulling me toward him and off balance. His knee slams into my stomach and with no time to flex my muscles I get the extensive force of his kick. My insides feel literally like they've been knocked into an unnatural position, sending pain to every nerve in my torso.
As I struggle to breathe, the teen curls his slender fingers around the tresses of my disheveled hair and pulls at the roots. I cry out in discomfort as he forces me to meet his heated stare. Like Touka, he carries the same harsh look that I am unable to hold.
"Don't you idiots ever get tired of being weak?" To make his point, I feel his short, filed-down nails dig into my scalp, inciting another feeble cry from me. His lips bend into a menacing smirk at this. "I could do you a favor and put you out of your misery. What do you think about this?"
"Bite me," I hiss. Me and my big mouth.
His expression contorts into a sort of teeth baring sneer made only by predators as a precursor to more serious aggression, and like the sudden strike of a venomous pit viper he latches his sharp incisors into my upper shoulder, tearing at my flesh. The pain in intolerable.
This situation feels strangely ironic to me. I've made a meal of humans and ghouls my whole life, some alive as I ate them and some already dead, but I for one have never known the discomfort of my own nature. The strong survive, the saying goes. I am not strong; a point this superior ghoul makes clear to me as he satisfies his irritation with my flesh and blood as the release.
The coffee shop fills with my screams of protest and whether the ghoul tires of hearing them, or takes pity on me I'm not for certain, but he frees his mouth from me with a wet smack and spits my blood from his mouth.
"You taste horrible," he snaps.
The man in white cracks his fingers. "Finish this up, Ayato. We don't have time to play."
Ayato rolls his eyes. "That's rich coming from you, bastard." He dangles me around like a rag doll as he says this. However, like he's asked to do, he ends our little game. Ayato lifts me onto my feet and kicks me into the wall.
My body hits the floor with a dull thud. I lie on my side, struggling to breath and unable to move. I am thankful for what comes next. The teen ignores my broken body and goes on about his business as if I'm a bug he simply squashed beneath his boot. The blood in me begins to boil, but my kagune doesn't come to my aide. I'm too tired to even fight back. Ayato is right; I'm simply weak.
They have Kaneki with them, slack as a corpse over the shoulder of the brute. His clean, white suit is stained in the boy's blood, but seems to be electrified by the notion as he leaves the shop with him. What kind of man walks around proud of the blood on his garments?
One by one, they leisurely file out of the café; toy soldiers to their own measure. The strongest go first, then Banjou and his three followers. I bury my face into the crook of my arm like the coward I am. Some ghoul I turned out to be. The sad thing is, I allowed them to take Kaneki away without much of a fight. In a heap of broken bones and torn flesh I squeeze my eyes shut until darkness consumes me at last.
Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). Akiyama Mirai belongs to author LittlexNightingale. Please enjoy.