So there are a lot of things in this chapter, and a whole lot of others that have been implied. I guess that it'll be sometimes difficult to understand but please keep reading, everything will be explained. Also, I left a (big) note at the end of this chapter to explain something about Harry's state of mind in the previous chapters. I wrote him that 'stupid' and out of it for a reason.

That being said, I want to dedicate this chapter to seio, whose PM was probably the best thing I got in those last weeks and who made me write this chapter faster. So, thank you, I'm sorry that I never answered your message, I'm not good with words (oh the irony...)

Also, special thanks to Aladdina Magi and DirectSomething who helped me with some parts of this chapter. And the story in a whole. (wow, so many people helped me, I feel like a cool kid. Or a lame one. I don't know)

And now, to answer the anons:

sleepyJAE : Amon? He does have the eyebrows to do the job.

Pyrokitty : This is the prologue, everything happens before Kaneki meets Rize. (Harry needs to take some time to get accustomed to the ghoul's life. I made my mind and there won't be any Mpreg. (just mentions of hermaphroditism). You're right for the part with Kaneki and Harry though.

And without further ado, I'll leave you with this chapter. (Yay, new chapter~)


The sun wasn't even out when Ayato woke up. His sleep hadn't been that good since they (his sister and he) had to leave their house and go to Anteiku and the muffled noises coming from the room next to theirs had been enough to woke him. The young Kirishima sleepily rubbed his eyes and got out of his bed, glancing at his still sleeping sister Touka, before he opened the room.
The door didn't make noise and he swiftly peered through the opening, widening his eyes when he saw (and smelled) the manager as well as the current best fighter in the ward, Yomo Renji. The two men (or rather the old man and the teenager) were talking in hushed whispers in the corridor, Yoshimura was frowning at the white haired boy while the latter was explaining something that Ayato couldn't hear. He strained his ears, furrowing his eyebrows when he could finally understand what Yomo was actually saying.

"... just ended. Seems like he didn't get to eat. We already tried to give him fresh meat but he couldn't keep it down."

The manager of the 20th ward pursed his lips in a disapproving fashion and held his chin between two fingers.

"Did he make complete sentences?" he asked and Ayato frowned.

Why would Yoshimura ask that? The young boy pursed his lips and remembered everything that he knew about ghouls. What would disturb or change a ghoul's speech? Ayato's frown increased as he recalled how his father always smiled gently at him whenever he taught them about their species.

The dark haired child shook his head to shake away that memory and closed his eyes, his ears catching more of the two older men's words.

"... says that he couldn't smell him during his heat," Yomo was saying. Ayato hadn't heard him answer the manager's question. And now he was a little lost about what they could be talking about.

"He must have hid in the sewers," Yoshimura commented with a small sigh. "Poor thing. No wonder he's gone feral."

Feral?

Ayato widened his eyes and let out a small gasp of surprise. The two other ghouls stopped talking and the young Kirishima quickly scurried back to his bed. He promptly hid under his covers and tried to calm down his heartbeat. His bedroom door slightly opened and Ayato did his best to breath like his sleeping sister. When the door closed, he continued doing it and faintly heard Yomo saying that they were sleeping to the manager.

The young boy cursed under his breath and kept his eyes closed.

A feral ghoul. They had a feral ghoul hiding somewhere in Anteiku and those two weren't even trying to secure it.

"Feral ghouls aren't born like that," his father's voice, only a faint memory, murmured in his mind. "They become feral when they have been left famished during their heat."

Ayato remembered. He had asked his father about the rumors of a binge eater who had been killed by those horrible Doves. Rumors that said that the ghoul had been a feral one who had killed most of the Doves' squadron before they had taken it down. They also said that the ghoul had been nothing but a growling beast, tearing everyone to bits and not even attempting to eat it.

"Their heat?" he had asked his father. The latter had just quietly laughed and ruffled his hair before he had answered him with his soft voice.

"Only those who can give birth become feral. That's why, Ayato, you must protect your sister."

Ayato concealed a growl in his pillow.


When they noticed that the younger of the Kirishima children was awake, Yoshimura signaled to Yomo to get into the nearest room and promptly closed the door behind him. Then, he calmly walked to the two couches situated one in front of the other, sitting on the only vacant one. He folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes when he finally looked at the man laying on the other couch. Yomo stayed quiet, standing between the two couches, his eyes never leaving the foreigner's (for it clearly was a foreigner) face.

"If you're certain that he did make complete sentences but couldn't eat," Yoshimura sighed and glanced at the teenager. The latter hadn't taken his eyes off the man's strained face. "It could mean that he's too weak to do it. He couldn't take his kagune out?"

"His kakugan too," Yomo clarified with a small frown. "Uta kicked him and nothing happened. His reaction time is slow too."

"I see," the Anteiku manager mumbled while he pensively rubbed his chin. "I'll call Fueguchi. Make him eat something. Try some mashed kidney or a bottle of blood."

The teenager nodded and left the room. Yoshimura looked another time at the slumbering ghoul, noting how pale his skin was and the distinctive marks of starvation over his hollow cheeks.

He left as well the room and went to make the call to the doctor before he returned to the probably feral ghoul. Yomo was already by his side, pressing against his lips a spoon full of mashed meat and frowning as it didn't go past his lips. The manager sat back on his couch and watched over them, slightly smiling when the ghoul finally gulped some kidney. But he immediately frowned when retching spasmed through the unknown ghoul's body. The latter vomited the little kidney he had ate and the two other men sighed.

"He's going to become feral if it keeps going like this," Yoshimura whispered.

Yomo frowned and the adult quietly raised a hand to calm him.

"But if he was able to speak normally, it won't happen," he accorded.

Of course, he had to jinx it. Because just as he finished talking, the famished ghoul weakly groaned and finally opened his eyes.
The two other ghouls slightly widened their eyes when they felt the call that the unaware dark haired man was making. The latter blinked several times and tried to sat on the couch before he stopped moving and turned his head to look at the other men.

Yoshimura raised his eyebrows when he was met with those two green eyes glaring daggers at him. Yomo didn't react, merely judging how the man was acting. The green eyed ghoul was slightly panting, his breathing hitching from time to time and his face was even paler than when he was unconscious.

In fact, he was showing every symptoms for a feral ghoul. But Yoshimura didn't want to make a hasty conclusion so he straightened his back and gently smiled at the man. The latter reacted by growling in a louder fashion.

"Please, do not worry," the older ghoul assured with a calm and soft voice. "You're safe here."

The green eyed ghoul didn't stop growling and slowly crouched on the couch, his eyes traveling from the manager to Yomo without ever stopping.

"My wand," he said in a breathless voice.

Yoshimura frowned and looked at the teenager. Yomo still had his frown on his face but acted on the unsaid order. He took out of his pocket a small stick and put in on the little table between the two couches. The famished ghoul immediately jumped to retrieve it and swiftly went back to his crouching position, his stick pressed against his chest while he growled lowly whenever the other ghouls did as much as breathe too much.

And it was in such a situation that Fueguchi Asaki entered the room. The doctor widened his eyes in surprise when he saw the famished ghoul growling at whoever came too close to him and the two other men standing still.

To be quite honest, Asaki wasn't that frazzled by the aggressive behavior. He had seen worse in his line of work. So he just shrugged it off, took his coat off and gave it to the young Renji, putted his glasses over his noses and, finally, approached the growling ghoul who hadn't moved an inch since he arrived. But as the doctor took small steps towards them, the dark haired ghoul's growls increased. Considerably.

Until Fueguchi Asaki had to stop because the two unmated men had taken a protective stance between the doctor and his patient. Yoshimura frowned as he noticed his unconscious action and slightly shook his head when he met Asaki's questioning eyes. Yomo seemed more confused by his sudden move and the doctor slowly raised his hands to make his point clear.

"Renji," he said with calm and soothing voice. The kind he used on his wife whenever she went into her post-heat daze. "Don't listen to their Call. I won't hurt them."

The teenager reluctantly nodded and took a step aside, letting the doctor walk toward the still growling ghoul. Fueguchi didn't bat an eyelash when the growls morphed into aggressive snarls and observed with calm eyes his patient's face.

Thin lips with a tinge of blue stretched over small teeth, bloodshot eyes and hollow cheeks.

Fueguchi frowned and cocked his head, trying to catch a glimpse of the ghoul's neck.

"Where did you find them?" he asked in a soft voice, almost covered by the ghoul's snarls.

"He found us," Renji answered, insisting on the first word.

"Was it in the sewers?" the doctor furrowed his eyebrows when the teenager merely shook his head and sighed. "They seem to be asphyxiating."

"But he's breathing fine," the white haired boy protested before he quickly shut up under Yoshimura's stern glance.

"Asphyxia?" the manager quietly said.

"It could be that," Asaki shrugged before he tried to take another step towards the snarling ghoul. "From what I see, they almost died, by asphyxia maybe, and entered a mock-heat from the shock."

The ghoul's snarled at his words and tried to jump at his throat. Asaki barely avoided it thanks to Yoshimura's sharp reflexes. The Anteiku manager had pushed him behind him just in time to avoid the ghoul's teeth.

"I will need to touch them," the doctor commented in a slightly stressed voice. "Did they eat?"

"Couldn't keep it down," Renji answered from his spot on the shadows.

He was keeping an attentive eye over the growling ghoul, his grey eyes showing from time to time how affected he was by the dark haired ghoul's calling.

"I see," Fueguchi muttered to himself before he straightened his back. "I suppose that we can't use the children next door to appease them?"

"No," Yoshimura sternly said. "No children will be used or put in harm's way."

"Very well," the doctor conceded with a tilted head. "Then you'll both need to keep them down while I examine them. Same goes for their kagune of course."

The white haired teen softly shook his head. "He hasn't used it until now."

Asaki furrowed his eyebrows and stopped hiding behind Yoshimura, his dark eyes analyzing the dark haired ghoul while he softly gnawed on his lips.

"That's bad," he admitted quietly. "From the blue tinge on their lips, I can tell that they have cyanosis, explaining why they haven't used their kagune as their blood doesn't have enough oxygen to produce enough Rc cells. I need to see their throat and chest."

Yoshimura nodded, his lips morphing into a stern frown and the two Anteiku ghouls swiftly moved until they had pinned down the snarling ghoul. The latter let out a pained growl before they coughed in between pants, Renji flinching at every wince and cough coming from the ghoul.

In the meantime, Fueguchi took out his stethoscope and put plastic gloves on. Then, he carefully walked towards the growling ghoul and tugged open the filthy coat the latter was wearing. When he finally saw the naked chest under the clothes, the doctor furrowed his eyebrows.

The skin was pale and covered in sweat. But there was also the same blue tinge all over their bared throat.

Fueguchi gulped and put two fingers over the ghoul's throat, searching for their pulse and frowning when he noticed something that was supposed to be there and yet wasn't.

There wasn't any bulge on their throat, meaning that they weren't asphyxiating because their conduct had been obstructed.

The doctor gritted his teeth and used his stethoscope on the ghoul's chest, wincing when he heard the rapid staccato of their heartbeat. They had tachycardia. Bad sign. He needed to find out what was wrong with them quickly.

And then, just as he moved his stethoscope over their ribs, he felt it. There was a small, almost insignificant, bulge under their pale skin.

Fueguchi swore under his breath and quickly ran his hands over the ghoul's stomach, only stopping when he felt an old scar running above their navel.

There it was.

"It's a hemothorax," Asaki breathlessly announced while he straightened his back and went to fetch his bag.

"Hemothorax," Yoshimura repeated with a questioning frown.

"Blood in their lungs," the doctor tersely explained while he took his scalpel (the one that can cut through ghoul's flesh) and a plastic tube. "I'll have to drain them. Hold them tight, it'll hurt."

Yomo nodded once to show that he had understood and thinned his lips as he strengthened his hold on the snarling ghoul. The latter's face was slowly taking a rather unnerving blue tinge and he could see how the dark haired male was actually gasping like a drowning man. Because he was, if the doctor had been right, the ghoul had been drowning in his own blood since his first meeting with Uta from what Yomo could deduce.

It was a wonder how the man had been able to speak and manage himself for that long while he was slowly dying.

"Okay," Fueguchi announced in a whisper while his scalpel hovered above the ghoul's ribs. "I'm going to cut."

The scalpel carved its way on the pale flesh and Yomo had to briefly close his eyes when he saw how the vein on the dark haired ghoul's throat bulged before the latter fell on the couch, the growls vanishing into nothingness.

The pull of his call also disappeared and Yomo blinked wearily, his eyes searching for something, anything, before they found the manager's.

"He's unconscious," Yoshimura told him with a soft voice. "Don't worry."

"And with reason they are unconscious," Fueguchi commented as he rolled his eyes, his hands moving the plastic tube until it was entering the cut on the ghoul's ribs. "No sane person would have been walking out there with a hemothorax. Were they able to talk when you found them?"

Yomo ignored the sweet smell of blood as well as the slowly increasing puddle of blood on the floor, drained from the unconscious ghoul's lungs, and slightly nodded.

"Mostly monosyllabic words," he said while trying to remember what had happened on the rooftop with Uta. "Sometimes a whole sentence."

"They must have been out of their depth, confused and scared," Fueguchi murmured as he pulled a bit on the tube and frowned when the flowing blood increased. "That's a lot of blood. The wound must have been borderline mortal."

Yomo frowned and glanced at the unconscious ghoul's face. The blue tinge still was there but at least they all knew what was wrong with him now.

But still, something was wrong with him. What kind of ghoul would wander alone in the most dangerous ward without a proctor with them?


The first thing that he noticed when Harry finally woke up was that he had a searing pain on his ribs. What had he done to end with a broken rib? He furrowed his eyebrows, eyes still closed, and tried to remember what had happened to make him end with broken ribs.

But the only thing that came to his mind were freaky eyes, a deep hunger and blood flowing from his chest.
Also, he felt lightheaded without even moving. Oh joy.

Harry softly groaned and tried to open an eye. Keyword tried.

Feeling the crust all around his eyes and the way his eyelids weighed more than a mountain troll, he swiftly decided that being blind wasn't that bad. He had always had a bad eyesight.
Then, once he decided that being blind was okay, Harry noticed something else. A smell. A good and familiar smell.

A coffee-like smell.

His mouth watered and Harry groaned another time before he finally opened an eye and noticed that, yes, he didn't have his glasses. So, he still was pretty much blind. But from the smell, the cup of coffee wasn't that far so the wizard quickly resolved himself to blindly look for that deliciously smelling cup of coffee.

Yes, it smelled that good.

Harry slowly rolled over what seemed to be a couch and winced when he felt something prickle him on his ribs. He softly ran one of his hands over his chest and shuddered when his fingers stopped on what seemed to be an intravenous injection. Except that it was at mere inches under his heart and not on his arm.

He suddenly remembered his awakening in the muggle hospital and his following actions, making him moan at his stupidity.

"Seriously?" he grumbled while facepalming (and wincing because he felt like shit). "What the bloody hell, Potter! That was like walking back to a dangerous trap! And just for clothes..."

He moaned another time and softly shook his head, surprising himself when he took a deep breath and didn't feel the need to cough.

What had happened to him to make him so foolishly stupid?

The creaking of the opening door shook him from his rather pitiful thoughts and the wizard wearily blinked his eyes when he saw a rather familiar face scowling at him. He knew that white hair and scowl.

But he couldn't for the hell of it remember the name of the white haired teen who had just barged into his room. Except that it wasn't his room and that Harry was pretty much lost at where and why he was there. And while he thought about his sudden streak of fainting and then waking up in an unknown place, the teenager moved.

Suddenly, Harry found himself curled into a ball of hurting ribs (because his intravenous injection hurt and moving so suddenly wasn't really the best idea ever) and had to fight down the rising snarl that was slowly creeping through his parted lips. The wizard blinked in surprise and slowly uncurled himself on the couch, his eyes faintly perceiving the white and pink blotch of the teenager moving closer. His heartbeat slightly increased when he caught a whiff of the teen's fragrance and Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he felt his mouth water in hunger.

What was this? A Pavlovian reflex?

But the wizard quickly forgot his indignation over his sudden hunger when he smelled blood coming from the teenager. From what he had seen (or rather perceived as Harry still couldn't see shit), the white haired boy wasn't injured so it could mean only one thing. He had something to feed him. Thus explaining that Pavlovian reaction. And also causing Harry to ask himself if the teen had been the one to feed him during his fainting spell. Poor boy, Harry had never been a good patient, even unconscious.

"Eat," the teen said in a stern voice.

Harry merely blinked and slightly moved his head, his green eyes blearily searching for a plate or his meal. Except that the only thing that was near him (and his mouth) was the boy's hand. Empty hand.

Okay, that was weird.

And Harry was accustomed to all kind weird. It was an occupational hazard when one was the Wizarding World's Savior.

But still, it was weird.

"Okay," Harry drawled before he licked his lips. His hunger was now making his stomach rumble and he briefly considered biting the boy's hand just to make his point clear. He. Was. Hungry. "Where's the meal?"

The boy seemed taken aback by his words and Harry briefly wondered what had happened during his brief holiday to Lalaland. It seemed as if the teen had been shocked to death by his ability to talk.

See? It was weird.

"I'm the meal," the boy finally droned.

Harry blinked. Then quietly gulped. And rubbed his eyes because he still felt a bit sleepy.

"Wait, what?"

The teenager sighed and slightly shuffled, making Harry narrow his eyes as he still couldn't see what he was doing. The boy seems to realize it because he walked away and came back to hand him something.

His glasses, thanks Merlin.

Harry swiftly put them on his nose and finally saw the boy's face. He had dark circles under his eyes and seemed tired. But he was as stern faced as the first day (no, it was a night) they met. And the wizard still couldn't place a name on his face.

"The only thing that you seem able to eat is other ghouls," the boy explained with a scowl (that was also familiar to the wizard, how strange). "So eat."

"I won't eat you," Harry scowled as well as he stood from his couch.

His ribs (or rather the rib on his right side) protested a bit but he ignored it and took the intraveinous out of his flesh. It was nothing against the Cruciatus curse. The wizard then took two small steps to see if his legs could hold him and smiled wearily. He felt as if he had taken a full Skelegrow cauldron but he could walk. It was something.

"If you don't eat, you'll die," the teenager said in his back.

Harry ignored him and looked around him for his wand. Once he had it, he would immediately apparate in the Japanese Ministry of Magic and then call his family. That was quite the good plan, he couldn't believe that he hadn't had it before. Seriously, he was afraid at his former stupidity. That was quite the idiocy.

But at least, he quickly checked it, he didn't feel as if his magic was tightly constricted in his chest. He didn't know what had happened during his fainting spell but he felt a lot better than before. Seems like demons knew human anatomy better than Muggles. Strange but useful right now.

"Well," the wizard muttered as he continued searching for his wand. "That's too bad but I won't eat you. Merlin, who would have thought that I would have to say those words..." Harry shook his head in disbelief and began to pat the couch to see if his wand had slipped between the cushions.

The teenager frowned and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. The wizard immediately tensed and swiftly turned his head to glare at the boy before he shrugged it off and continued looking for his wand.

"You need to eat," the boy insisted while his frown increased. Harry huffed lightly. "I know it because you're Calling me."

"Young man," Harry shook his head and softly sighed before he looked at the frowning teenager. "I'm sure that you're a nice fellow but I didn't call you. I don't even know your name! So, please, stop pestering me on eating you and help me find my wand."

"It's with the manager," the teen said calmly and Harry froze.

He slowly turned his head to look at the white haired boy and widened his eyes.

"What is with the manager?" he quietly asked, his body thrumming while he considered multiple plans on stealing his wand because he sure as hell needed to find the Japanese Ministry of Magic. And to make some clothes.

What the hell was he even wearing?

It seemed like some kind of old café garb. Harry was pretty sure that he had never been a waiter, even if his relatives liked to treat him like one (tips non included).

"Your stick," the teenager answered with a small shrug. "You always tried to poke our eyes with it so the manager took it."

Okay. That was the definite proof that he had been an idiot. What kind of wizard tried to poke a demon's eye out with his wand when he could simply apparate away and, you know, live another day?

It seems like Harry was that kind of wizard.

Harry groaned in self-pity and vividly shook his head before he walked towards the door. He was going to retrieve his wand, leave that house and find the Japanese Ministry of Magic and once he was there, firecall Ginny or Hermione. Yes, that was quite the fireproof plan. Pun not intended.

Also, his magic seemed to approve it because it rumbled happily around him while he exited what had seemed to be a small living room and ended in a corridor. The wizard followed his intuition and went down the stairs until he ended in another corridor (that house was quite the maze). By then, the smell of coffee was so strong that he felt it pull him towards a door and he pushed it open until he ended into what could only have been a café room.

"Merlin, Hermione will love this place," Harry murmured as he observed the round tables, the quiet clients sipping their cups of coffee and the waiters with the same clothes as him. And above everything else, there were a lot of people reading.

Indeed, Hermione would love that place.

But Harry wasn't there to look for place for his best friend so he narrowed his eyes and glanced around until his eyes stopped on a man. The latter had a grandfatherly expression while he talked with one of the customers and the wizard almost growled when he saw the familiar wand peeking through the work coat pocket.

So, like every man on a mission, Harry ignored everything around him and quickly stalked towards the older man, not noticing that the white haired teenager was following him with a frown on par. Once the wizard was next to the old man, he politely coughed and waited for the other to notice him.

The man blinked, excusing himself to his customer (a pregnant woman with a lovely smile) and (finally) looked at Harry. The latter tightly smiled at him and patted his hip with a hand while he stretched the other towards the older man.

"I see that you feel better," the man said with a relieved sigh.

Harry refrained from rolling his eyed and nodded.

"Indeed, I feel so good that I want to go back home," he said through his gritted teeth before he smiled (falsely so) at the other male. "Could you please give me back that stick, it's needed to get back home."

The man slightly widened his eyes in surprise and nodded after some seconds of hesitation before he fetched the wizard's wand and gave it to him.

"Thank you," Harry politely said seconds before he left the establishment.

The old man blinked and narrowed his eyes. He exchanged a look with the teen and just as quickly as the wizard, he exited the café and followed the dark haired man.
The latter noticed him right away and stopped walking, his arms folded over his chest while he waited for the old man to explain why he had chased him.

"You left in such a hurry that you didn't leave me the time to introduce myself," the man told him once he was in front of Harry. "I'm Yoshimura, the manager of Anteiku, the café you just left, as well as the 20th ward."

"Harry," the wizard simply said with a small nod. Then he pursed his lips and slightly narrowed his eyes. "Farewell."

And just like that, Harry left Anteiku and its ward. (It had been way too easy)

Yoshimura frowned and glanced at Yomo who had followed him in the shadows.

"Did he eat?" he asked in a stern voice.

Yomo shook his head and the manager sighed heavily.

"Let's call everyone," he calmly said. "There's a binge eater kakuja out there now."

The teenager frowned and opened his mouth, wanting to protest, but quickly shut it. Even if the man had been able to normally speak, it didn't mean that he had stopped to be so ravenous like he had been during those last weeks.

He needed to tell Uta.

The dark haired ghoul had been able to track down the bleached teen when he had been delirious. Now that he was slightly saner than before, Yomo didn't know what would his next move be.


The first thing Harry did once he was sure that no one was following him was transfigure his bow tie into a coat similar to his Auror uniform. Except not in purple. Harry hated purple, it was so not his color.
Then, he walked (or rather used the tube) until he ended somewhere in Akihabara. From what he could remember of his Auror classes about foreign countries and their Ministry location, the Japanese one was in a temple somewhere in a place named Akihabara. That didn't help him because Akihabara was huge. As in 'you could fit two Hogwarts in here and still have enough place to throw a rave' huge. It seriously made Hagrid's little brother look like a dwarf. Yes, it was that huge.

Harry sighed heavily as he avoided another maid trying to make him go into her den (so what if he was traumatized by maids? Try being seduced by one after seeing a harpy wearing maid's clothes. It just didn't work. At all) and glanced at his wand.

He hadn't wanted to use it and it was his last resort but Harry was getting tired of seeing Muggles bustling around him. He wanted to see his family, kiss Ginny and hug his son.

So he straightened his back, tightened his grip on his wand and took a deep breath. He was in the middle of a crow, in a really bustling street and surrounded by Muggles. And somewhere near the Ministry of Magic in Japan. Harry seriously hoped that the Japanese had a sense of humor because after what he was going to pull, he would need it.

He closed his eyes, clearing his mind and thought of his family. Then, just as he pictured Ginny hugging James while they walked home without looking at him and yet smiling heartily, Harry opened his eyes and incanted.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Immediately his silver stag came out of his wand and began to prance around him, dispelling the crowd around him and making him the center of their attention.

'Well,' Harry grimly thought while he thinly smiled at the surprised crowd who was taking pictures of his patronus. 'Let's see if the Japanese are as hospitable as they say...'

Two hours passed and no Japanese Aurors came to curse him for using magic in front of Muggles. In fact, no one came. Just Muggles taking pictures passed around him and Harry quickly ended like some kind of street attraction, frowning as his stag had to avoid some children that had wanted to play with it.

This was bad. This hadn't been planned.

Harry's frown increased and he rubbed pensively his chin while he dispelled his patronus, ignoring the boos from the crowd while he walked away.

So the patronus hadn't worked to make the Aurors come after him. Maybe if he used a more... evil spell in front of Muggles?

Harry scowled. He didn't want to hurt anyone, just to go back home. And for that, he needed an access to his vault or a chimney connected to England. (Portkey didn't work when one was hopping from a continent to an other)

Merlin, even a broom would have been enough!

He angrily kicked a pebble and ignored the indignant shout that came from a muggle that had been hit by it right on his shin. The wizard continued walking, pondering over using an Imperius on a muggle before he suddenly stopped on his tracks. He had felt someone following him (thank to his reflexes honed after years of fighting dark wizards) and that could only mean one thing.

The Japanese Aurors had finally found him.

Harry grinned and continued walking, deliberately selecting an empty alley hole where no one could interrupt them, before he stopped right on a dead end. He smirked to himself and, just as he heard steps behind him, turned around to point his wand at the chest of an unknown male.

A bloody teenager, no more than fifteen, with purple hair and surprised eyes.

"I await excuses," the purple haired boy said with a haughty voice.

Harry merely blinked before he sighed and facepalmed. He ignored the teenager's rant about being hit by a rock and annoying classmates (he didn't want to know what was the relation between those two facts) and how he was going to eat him, preferring to go into a self-pity party on how he was always unlucky.

Well, that left him with no other choice than the Imperius, right?

Harry sighed and silently cursed the ranting teen, cutting him right on the middle of a sentence about delicious looking biceps (what the hell was he even talking about...) and the wizard cocked his head when he felt the teenager's tentative resistance against his will.

For a muggle, the boy had quite a drive.

That would make him a terrifying enemy, Harry considered before he shrugged.

Once the Aurors came to take him, the boy would be under an Obliviatus and would forget about him so no need to worry about a brand new enemy.

Except that no one came.

A whole hour passed and Harry glanced at the cursed teenager, faintly noticing that the boy was wearing a school uniform (that looked quite pricey. If he had been someone else, he would have considered kidnapping to make some pocket money) and that his purple hair was natural. Not bleached, Harry couldn't wrap his mind around that fact, a muggle having purple hair. (Why purple of all the colors?)

Merlin, this wasn't an animal, or whatever the Japanese called their cartoons.

And as the waiting increased, so did the boy's resistance. The purple haired teen was still trying to break the curse and Harry had raised his eyebrows his surprise when he saw the boy actually move without him telling him to do so.

But when he saw the tentacle looking thing get out of the boy's back and slither around his right arm, the wizard quickly understood why a muggle had resisted so well his Imperius.

Seriously, a muggle resisting his Imperius. What a joke.

But more seriously, what was it with Japan and demons? That was already the third he had met in his whole life and the three had been in Japan.

Harry sighed and swiftly casted a Petrificus on the teenager before he undid the Impero. The purple haired boy frowned when he felt the curse vanish and tried to attack the wizard only to be stopped by the fact that he couldn't move an inch.

"What are you doing," the teenager scowled and waited for his answer yet Harry didn't say anything.

Mostly because he didn't have an idea about what he was doing.

Kidnapping a demon teenager? Waiting for non existing Aurors (he had come to the sad conclusion that there wasn't going to be anyone looking for him)?

So Harry opted on interrogating the teen. Because why not.

"And you," he retorted with an even voice, "what were you doing?"

The teenager looked at him like he thought he was an idiot.

"I've heard that you don't eat raw meat," he answered after a little silence during which they both glared at each other. "So I wanted to invite you to a restaurant. I'm sure that the meals served there would be better than the ones in that dingy café."

Harry frowned and eyed carefully the purple haired boy. From what he could see of the teenager's face, the boy really wanted him to follow him to that restaurant. Had he been a muggle, Harry would have accepted because he didn't have any money and couldn't use magic to make himself something to eat.

But that boy was a demon with a tentacle looking thing that came out of his back. (That was actually a little bit disgusting)

"I'll have to refuse that proposition," Harry suavely answered while he carefully stepped around the demon and walked, without turning his back to him, towards the bustling street. "Maybe another time..."

"Next time, c'est promis!" the demon cackled happily and Harry discreetly rolled his eyes. Seriously who did he think he talked to? The wizard could totally see his glee and hunger. "Arrivederci, my sweet binge eater!"


Harry didn't undo the Petrificus until he was three wards away from the demon creep. (It didn't make him feel safer but he couldn't let that demon under it, it used magic for nothing)

But he tried to ignore that disturbing feeling of having met his future killer (or stalker) and tried to find another plan to go back home. There always was the muggle way but Harry seriously didn't want to get on a metallic thing that flew without any magic and used propulsion to do it. Without forgetting the fact that he was a wizard with a strong magic. It could disturb the airplane in its flight and make it crash.

Harry didn't want his life to end like that so it didn't leave him a lot of options.

He could take a boat. It was like that that the European wizards colonized America after all.
But Harry wasn't that great above water, it always reminded him that time in the Hogwarts lake and then reminded him of Cedric's death. So, yeah, it wasn't something that Harry liked.

Thus, his desperation at the Japanese Ministry of Magic's lack of reaction after cursing a demon on his ground. Weren't they a little bit too lax?

Harry ended up sitting on a bench in the middle of a playground, trying to ignore how much of a creeper he must have looked when they were so many children around him, and he sighed heavily. He heard small steps carefully approaching him and decided to ignore them as well. The wizard rolled absentmindedly his wand between his fingers, trying to find another idea, no matter how idiot it sounded (come on, he had already done worse with going back to that hospital).

But he quickly forgot about his desperate search for new ideas when he heard a small cough and an annoyed huff.

Harry blinked and finally moved his eyes away from his feet (that were covered by two newspapers transfigured into really classy looking shoes, Harry was a beast at transfiguring shoes) to look at a child. The latter had ruffled blond hair and a (normally) smiling mouth that was for now turned into a pout.

It made him think of his son and Harry flinched at the thought. He needed to go back home.

"Yes?" he said in a soft voice, trying to mask his hurt and smiling at the boy.

The kid didn't seem to believe his nice smile and furrowed his eyebrows, making look even cuter but Harry swiftly crushed that thought.

"You're in Kaneki's place," the boy stated while he folded his arms over his little chest.

"Kaneki?" Harry repeated while he slightly tilted his head.

It seemed like a name so it meant that the boy had a friend. Harry swiftly glanced around and finally localized the boy's friend. It was a kid with dark hair cut into a simple haircut that Harry recognized as the 'I couldn't care less about my haircut so do whatever you want with it'-cut that he always ended with during his childhood, and with a book in his hands.

The book made him think of Hermione and he smiled, this time more honestly, at the boy before he slowly got up.

"I'm sorry for that," he told to the blond haired kid.

It was a nice boy, looking out for his friend, it made him think of Ron. That made him flinch.

He needed to find a telephone booth and call Hermione's muggle phone, just to make sure that the muggle doctor hadn't lied to him.

"Enjoy your book," he added before he left the playground.

"What a weirdo," the blond kid commented with a puzzled face.

"Hide!" Kaneki immediately chided him while he slowly sat on his designated place. "Don't say that, you were the one who was rude to him!"

"Yeah, yeah," Hide shrugged off the comment with a smile and smiled at his friend. "You seem to like him, are you hiding something, Kaneki?"

The dark haired kid furrowed his eyebrows, not noticing the little jab, and glanced at his book cover before he nervously bit his lips.

"He kind of looked like this book hero," he explained in a hushed voice.

"Huh?" Hide went to glance at the book and furrowed his eyebrows. "There are too many words! What's it called, Kaneki?"

"Harry Potter and the philosopher's stone," the other kid answered with a tiny smile. "It's quite good."


And like I promised, Kaneki appeared in this chapter. Another ghoul did too. Fueguchi is totally canon and Hinami's dad. At least, he had some lines in this story. And he will appear a bit more because who doesn't like a kick-ass doctor/loving dad?

Also, to further explain what the heck happened with Harry in the previous chapters, I'll explain it now as it will never be further explained in the story. (I think)
Harry had been pierced/skewered to death by a Skrewt, thus making quite an injury in his lower stomach. That caused internal bleeding (and thus blood in his lungs). Normally, once he had ended in the hospital, they would have scanned him and looked at his radios. Except that his magic interfered (making his scans impossible to analyze as well as his radios) and that he healed too quickly to make the muggle doctors realize that something was wrong with his lungs.

And then, there is his "stupidity". Harry was in shock, having been almost killed, then transfered to another realm and finally by slowly drowning/asphyxiating to death. That made him regress to his instincts (the ghoul ones) and he reacted as such. Also, whenever he apparated, it compressed the blood in his chest (explaining why he felt as if his magic was constricted, it was just blood) and made him feel even worse. At the end of the day, Harry was (instinctively) scared of using his magic and worsening his state, thus why he only used small and unnoticeable spells.

And finally, the reasons of his return to the hospital will be explained by the muggles in the next chapters so stay attentive. (Sorry for the big - and medical jumbo - note)