It's on a rainy autumn day that the young woman takes notice of a boy sitting in the murky corner of the coffee shop, away from the prying eyes.
He is deeply absorbed in his book, only sometimes taking a momentary break and simply observing his surroundings with a casual interest whilst snacking on one thing or another. The kid piques her interest. Briefly pondering, she realizes that he is somewhat of a regular here, and therefore, an irregularity, a witless lamb who wanders carelessly into this den of predators, time and time again. She is fascinated with the contrast, just as with any other things that draws her away from the boredom of her existence.
It is then, after tasting the kid's delicious smell, that she decides upon her angle of attack.
Carefully approaching him, she plays the role of a daunted damsel in distress to a T. He seems enraptured in her charms, drawn to her like a moth to the flame, straight into her masterfully weaved web of deceit, and he shares his name with her.
Kaneki.
She returns the sentiment.
Rize.
Realizing that they share their tastes in literature, they chat about prose and poetry alike for hours, sometimes changing the subject to more worldly matters, and sometimes just making some small talk. She enjoys playing with her prey in this little cat-and-mouse game of pretend. His seemingly innocent laughter and bookworm mannerisms give her sadistic satisfaction, like that of a grown man about to take a candy from a child.
It is long after the sun settles outside that the kid leaves. The girl doesn't try to force herself on him, nor does she pursue him. After all, she can afford to wait, for he promised to return, as he always did. Neither of them are aware of this yet, but the day he returns will be just as cloudy as this one.
The kid is familiar with the district, but the night has long settled, and he is too unnerved to make the trip home back on foot alone, through the vast network of lanes and alleys of the 20th Ward. It is then when he unwittingly makes his first mistake, when he becomes involved in something much bigger than him.
He hails a stray cab.
He hails me.
The ride to his home is uneventful. I warn him of the nights to come, but he doesn't understand.
This is fine. When the time comes, he will.
He doesn't know of the role that I devoted to him in the future conflict. But I know he will manage.
It could've been anyone, but the die was cast upon him.
I'm sure he will be a worthy childe to his Father.
There is no need for me to actually Embrace him.
After all, I have played this game for a long, long time. I am the proverbial giant on whose shoulders the dwarves rely to stand on, the last of my kind in these modern nights.
I can afford to break some rules.
When I drop him off at his place, he is unaware that the change has already occurred. That there is no going back for him.
He wakes up from the agonizing pain in his body, the smell of the burning flesh assaulting his senses. In mindless panic, he crawls away from the window as quickly as possible and draws the curtain shut.
At first, he doesn't understand, but slowly the comprehension crawls upon him.
He is no longer human, but neither he is a ghoul, or whatever beast that passes for it these nights.
Thankfully, the kid remembers some of the hints I dropped during our brief chat, and he comes through on them.
But, instead of accepting his new existence, he chooses to close himself off from the rest of the world, in the dark depths of his room.
The nights pass for him without any semblance of rest, but he doesn't seem to tire.
And, sure enough, the ancient Hunger starts to etch firmly into the forefront of his mind, slowly wearing upon his humanity.
This is not nearly enough to make him succumb to the Beast, but it takes its toll.
His friend, Hide, sometimes comes to his door, which the kid leaves shut and closed, making one excuse or another, careful to not reveal his condition. Time and time again, the kid carefully opens the curtain, wary of the radiant sunlight and welcoming the night.
Until one day, he realizes that the heavy clouds aren't going anywhere today, and the sunlight will not reach him through them.
He dresses as heavily as he can manage and takes the biggest umbrella that he has. He is somewhat uncomfortable, but he is happy to roam the day streets again, to pretend that his life is back to normal.
And so the kid goes to the only place that welcomed him all these days. He goes to Anteiku.
He doesn't know it yet, but he goes to hunt.
The somber mood and the subtle coffee aroma. The sounds of paper rustling and china clattering.
The perfect atmosphere for our lovebirds' reunion.
Both of them take precious care not to arouse suspicion in each other, to show they are both more and less than human.
Their reasoning is clouded by their preconceptions. His smell has gone stale, and he can sense her predatory aura, but that is not enough to dissuade either of them.
And so, blinded by their unwillingness to accept the obvious, they talk, time flowing swiftly during their conversation.
And after the night comes, they take a walk.
It is then and there, in the darkness of the rain, in an abandoned construction area, that she reveals her true nature.
The kid isn't ready to hunt this particular monster, lest he becomes the prey himself. His inner strength lies in manipulation and subterfuge, not confrontation.
I figure that the kid needs some help. I take control of the situation.
The kid's body takes a bit to get used to.
Through his eyes, I see the spitting image of Lilith. Tendrils of crimson flesh sprout out of her body, menacing to carve my progeny's body to shreds. The irony of the situation is not lost upon me.
It is not often that I need to Dominate these nights, after our kind has all but vanished. It is even less often that I need to use the Disciplines second-hand, through the faulty lens of Domination.
His blood is still thin, but it should suffice.
I force the kid to dodge the tentacles' assault, and counter it with his special brand of attack. He promptly vanishes from the woman's sight, and just as promptly reappears. Twisting her mind to my willing, I can't help but enjoy the role reversal of the hunter and the prey.
Whatever she perceives the now, it is the worst nightmare of her Demented mind.
She flails mindlessly at the mirage in front of her, slowly deteriorating into panic as she realizes she hasn't made a single scratch on her enemy.
In reality, the kid just stands there, Obfuscating his presence, completely unaffected, just far enough to stay safe and sound.
As the madness and panic completely overtake her mind, the woman's movements become powerless and frantic. It doesn't take much to make her succumb to her nightmares. She falls unconscious, and I let the kid enjoy his first Kiss.
After I quench the kid's primal thirst from her warm, wet, bloodied body, I order him to bring her to my cab.
As I drive away, I return the kid's body to its rightful owner, leaving the kid confused on the city streets, his memory of the events unfolded intact but clouded and scrambled.
Dropping the girl off back at the coffee shop, her clothing drenched with the blood and the rain, I realize that my involvement is all but done in the kid's story, and yet I can't help but be curious as to his decisions over the nights to come.
For he will become the one who predates on the predators, and stories that they scare their children with, and things that they fear in the dark.