Chapter I – Charlotte's Bakery

He comes to an abrupt stop and simply pants for a moment as he stumbles. The heavy growls of his stomach causes him to be thrown off balance, the reason behind him losing focus throughout his fight. How long had it been since he had enjoyed the taste of actual food? Days? Weeks? Months? He had lost count. Use to the harassment of his own organ, he had learned to ignore it. Surviving off of snacking here and there to keep it quiet.

His heavy breathing puffs out as it comes into contact with the cool rain, chest heaving as he tries to pull whats escaping back into his lungs. He wipes the mixture of sweat, dirt, and water from his face, with bloody hands before clasping them into a tight knit fist. Teeth grinding at the lack of peace and disturbances that he had gotten all week as he stares, eyes focused on the carnage before him.

Various monster parts were scattered about, all ranging from threat levels of the pathetic wolf to tiger with a demon misplaced somewhere in the fleshy debris. Upset over the demise of the Monster Association three months ago, they hunted Garou down, believing him to be part of the cause that bought upon the Monster Association's downfall. Hoping to let their built up anger out on him, they tracked him only to meet a grisly end.

His stomach growls again and he curses under his breath. "D-damn it..."

He takes off his shredded clothes and makes his way to the small stream to wash himself off. Using the clothing, now rags, to wash off the built up blood, sweat and grime he's collected.

Once finished, he walks back naked to his only home, a wooden shack stowed away in the woods lying on the border of S and Z cities. It's old and falling apart with wood faded and cracking from years of abandoned neglect. The door opens with an ungodly noise as it turns on the hinges, threatening to fall apart at any moment at the slightest bit of force. The floor creaks just as loudly beneath him with every step as he heads towards the couch, the sole piece of furniture and little comfort he has.

He snatches up the pair of clothes strewn on the edge of the hole filled, bed bug infested couch. A white shirt and grey sweats and hoodie stolen from a donation bin some time ago. He puts them on, making sure to look as tidy as possible, flipping the hood over his head and pulling the drawstrings tight enough that the hood squeezes his face.

He heads out, not sparing a passing glance to the old shack behind him.

The rain lightens up by the time Garou has made his way into the city, his hoodie darkened in large spots all over. He keeps his head down, hands in pockets as he makes his way down the sidewalk. Many of the citizens walk pass him with drooped and tired expressions, exhausted from work and overtime hours. They walk like mindless zombies and as such, Garou relaxes a little, seeing no need to be defensive around those who are barely alert enough to breathe.

A sweet aroma hits his nose carrying the scent of fried grease and poultry. He stops in his tracks, sniffing it and closing his eyes for a moment. It's intoxicating, urging his stomach and stimulating his saliva glands and is much more tempting than the stale smell of the spilled, coagulated blood he had become so accustomed to with devouring monsters. Blindly he follows it, leading him through a group of young beta males gambling in the middle of the pavement.

"Hey, hey you!" One of the young men grabs Garou by the shoulder from behind and Garou stops, not

bothering to turn around. The man circles around him to the front, hands placed in back pockets as he stretches his neck out at him, breath reeking of alcohol. Garou's face contorts in displeasure. He hated the smell of alcoholic drinks. They were strong, intense and foul to his senses.

"Ya not gonna say 'excuse me'?" The thug mean mugs, pointing to the playing cards strewn about the sidewalk where Garou walked through having stepped on them. He's wet , not having an umbrella or rain coat to protect him and dressed messily in a suit.

Garou doesn't respond and opts instead to keep his eyes to the ground, hoodies casting a shadow over his pale face.

The man grabs the hem of his hoodie in a fist, yanking him closer. "Hey, I'm talkin' ta ya!" He slurs, wobbling slightly back and forth.

"Looks like we got ourselves a mute." One of his lackeys grins, stumbling a bit forward. "Maybe he's a foreigner. Don't know any Japanese."

"Really now?" He clenches his free hand into a tight fist, pulling it back. "Let's teach him some of our culture then!" He lunges it forward only for Garou to catch it with his palm in perfect time. The man gasps having been caught off guard by the perfect timing and attempts to hit him again, letting go of Garou's hoodie. Immediately, he's stopped by a sudden intense pain.

Garou tightens his grip on the man's right hand, squeezing his knuckles and cracking his bones. The man howls and attempts to yank his hand away, grabbing the wrist of his right arm. But his efforts are pointless as Garou holds it in a vice like grip, not relinquishing his hold. His buddies watch on, too afraid to intervene.

"P-p-p-please stop! I'm beggin' ya!" The man bends at the knees, falling to the ground on them. He looks up, seeing Garou's piercing gold eyes shine through the shadow of his hoodie down on him. It pins him in place as his pupils narrow, mouth pinched. "Please, allow me..." Garou tightens his fingers, listening as the man's bones break. "Some of my own culture."

The man falls to his side on the ground, curling up into a fetal position. He groans and screams in pain as he grips the wrist of his right hand, fingers flopping back and forth unnaturally. The noise begins to attract the attention of the nearby pedestrians.

Garou sees this and prepares to leave, not wanting to be the center of attention.

"Ya think cuz' ya an alpha ya can do whateva' ya want!?" One of the injured man's allies come charging towards him with a pocket knife he had hidden inside of his jacket, aiming straight for Garou's side. He catches it and snaps the blade in half in full momentum, pointing it at the delinquents eye.

"Piss...off." He spits. Eyes widened and pupils dilated.

The man freezes in place, too afraid to move. The last of the gang stands behind him, just as nervous and equally frightened.

Garou drops the blade and glances to the last man who yelps and trembles when his eyes meets Garou's.. He wisely backs off and Garou continues his trek to wherever the smell is leading him to. The on-lookers mumble amongst themselves, giving no mercy to the gangstas. They were known for stirring up trouble and harassing young women anyway.

Eventually he comes to a pause in front of a small restaurant. The smell of friend grease and chicken overwhelms his nostrils, the smell concentrating in the building before him. Flowers of all types decorate the outside as a large American flag is displayed next to the door. He looks up and reads the sign:

Charlotte's Bakery

He walks up to one of the windows and peak inside, inspecting the type of food that is upon the tables, seeing steaks, chicken, and vegetables bought out. The place is full of people however, some still in suits from working and he contemplates weather or not he should take the chance to go in. A less crowded restaurant would be more convenient in his circumstances but the delicious aroma, one that smelled like something he had never smelled before, was much too enticing to just ignore.

He shrugs his shoulders, and walks inside, ringing the bell.

The cafe is warm in both temperature and atmosphere with bright lights casting a soft, warm, golden glow. Providing a stark contrast from the gloomy weather of the evening outside, bright lights casting a soft, golden glow.

He doesn't wait to be seated by a staff member and sits next in one of the red colored booths next to one of the windows in the far back corner of the cafe. The further away from people, the better.

The tables were dressed in red and white plaid tablecloths, a nice complement to the bright red padding of the booths. The chairs are painted brown to contrast with the beige color of the walls which were lined with paintings of key historical American figures. The whole place had a old time southern feel.

Garou rests an elbow on the table and his chin in the palm of his hand, gazing out of the window.

"Metal Bat..." he mumbles, thinking back to their fight three months ago. The young man was burned into his memory, having gave him one of the most invigorating fights he had ever received, But the thought of a hero being his soulmate didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. Maybe it had something to do with the fact he was Metal Bat of all heroes or maybe he was just happy that he had found him.

He sucks his teeth. "Too noisy."

"Really? I find it quite tame."

Garou whips his head around and lays eyes on a young male smiling softly at him carrying a menu under his arm. His dark raven hair is styled in an updo with eyes just as black and a beauty mark lying under his left eye. Dressed in a simple white dress shirt, black tie and pants, the young man has good form and height, tall enough to be eye-to-eye with Garou. He gave off the vibe of a young bachelor, ready to live his life to the fullest. A single whiff and Garou's able to tell from his pheromones that he's an alpha though his scent intermixes with the strong smell of cologne. Had it been a regular person, it would have been hard to notice.

This man's aura...it shifts and waves violently. Is there something off about him?

"I saw you sitting alone and figured I'll come over and check if everything was alright."

Garou looks him up and down. "Mmhm..."

The young man reaches under his arm and grabs the menu, placing it in front of Garou. "Would you like to order or are you merely taking shelter from the rain?"

"I'll like to order."

"Ah, that's good, that's good." He reaches into his shirt pocket and grabs out a pen and notepad. "What would you like to order? My name's Reiji by the way."

"Mreow."

"Hm?" Garou looks down only to see a black cat looking up back at him sporting a red collar with oriental print and a golden bell.

Whats a cat doing in a restaurant?

The cat rubs up against his leg, egging for attention. It was pitch black with golden eyes, around its neck a baby pink collar with a golden bell. Upon it's head was a matching small bonnet lined with pink rose flowers and pearls.

Must be miserable looking like that. He reaches down, stroking its back. It purs in happily in response, arching its body into his palm.

"Ah, forgot to introduce our other staff member." Reiji smiles. "This is Tsu Tsu. He's our mascot and pet here."

"Mascot huh? You just let him roam around getting fur in people's food?"

Reiji laughs. "Of course not. He's extremely well trained and doesn't jump on tables or try to steal food. People try to give him food however, but he doesn't eat it. He does have an affinity for shiny things but..." He glances over to the cat, eyes narrowing."He's learned a lesson personally from our boss on why it isn't good to take them."

Tsu Tsu hisses at him in response.

He looks back to Garou. "Have anything in mind on what you want to order?"

Garou moves his hand from the cat who goes to bother another table, flipping through the menu, scanning the options. "I've never had this type of food before."

"Really now? I must say your missing out then! Were the only western restaurant in all of Z-City. Our specialty is specifically in soul food. A lot of Japanese folks aren't too familiar with it, it seems."

Garou doesn't take his eyes off of the menu, lifting an eyebrow. "'Soul food'?"

"It's food popular in the American south. It consists of fried chicken, collard greens, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, mac and cheese, banana pudding, bread pudding-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah that's nice." Garou waves a hand. "You guys got any meat?"

"Of course." If you listened I mentioned that. Reiji's eye twitch. "Would you like our popular fried chicken or something else?"

"I'll take one of every one of your meats."

Reiji blinks his eyes. "I'm sorry, w-what did you say?"

"One of every one of your meats." He repeats slower this time. "And every salad you have. Oh, and you can bring out your party fruit platter too." Garou points to the menu, having lifted it up, showing his waiter.

"That's a party platter, it serves twelve people alone."

"Did I stutter?"

"U-um...right. No sir." Reiji jolts the information down quickly, taking the menu from him. "Thank you for your order. It may take some time to complete as there are other people before you."

"How long?"

"It could be a good solid hour or two. Especially since the fruit has to be cut and freshly prepared."

"Fine." Garou waves. "Take off the fruit platter then."

What about the rest of the food then?! "As you wish. You'll food will be out shortly." Reiji gives him a bow and heads to depart for the kitchen.

"And don't forget a jug of water! I need something to wash all that stuff down with!

Reiji's mouth jerks, slightly annoyed. "Of course sir." He disappears through the kitchen doors only for a collective scream to come from the kitchen, disrupting the peace of the cafe as pots and pans clash together.

Garou makes eye contact with one of the two security guards situated for the night and one of them returns his gaze before whispering to his partner, stealing glances at him every now and then.

"Tsk." Garou resumes looking out of the window, wanting to look inconspicuous.

He waits for what feels like hours before his food finally comes out, having to be delivered by three other staff members, two other young men and a woman. They sit down his food in front of him and are forced to pull over a separate table to the booth for the rest of the food. Once finished, they give a collective bow.

"We hope you enjoy the food."

Garou scratches the back of his ear with his fork. "Yeah, sure."

The two waiters and waitress give each other a nervous look before leaving Garou. The cafe's customers, finding amusement from the absurdity of the scene before them.

"Itadakimammoth." Garou chuckles to himself before diving in. Greedily snatching up the food and devouring it with such ferocity as to make the others in the cafe look upon him with equal amounts of disgust, wonder and absolute bewilderment.

Probably should have ordered light, he thinks to himself. He feels a tinge of regret for making a scene but quickly does away with it, overwhelmed with the delicious taste of the food. It had been months since he was able to gain a good meal since the onslaught of the Monster Association and his Hero Hunting rounds. The way the mac and cheese melted on his tongue, the crunch of the fried steak batter, the mushiness of the mashed potatoes and tender meat of the chicken was heaven to his buds. A welcomed break from the tasteless matter that was monster flesh.

"Is he okay?"

"That is ridiculous!"

"Where does it all end up at?"

"M-monster..."

"Where does he put it all?"

As the other customers mumble among each other, Reiji looks on. leaning up against the wall by the kitchen and register next to one of the waiters. He watches him attentively, arms crossed with eyes focused. "Hey, you smelled it too right? Jason?"

The young man next to Reiji, looks up from the register, pausing his counting of cash. Sporting short yellow hair, a pretty face, and a pierced ear, he had a tough demeanor. One that was complimented by a slightly muscular body and an almost delinquent like look. He had on a simple white shirt and black shoes and slacks, always at odd with wearing a uniform.

"Hm? Oh, that guy?" He glances at Garou from across the cafe. "Yeah. That smell is undeniable. Ya know how boss feels about those types in her cafe."

"But doesn't he smell weird? Like, something in between a human and monster?"

"Yeah, definitely, kinda like ours. Are you gonna report it to boss? Maybe she can get him to be a staff member like us." He laughs.

Reiji shrugs his shoulders, eyes narrowing. "Depends."

Garou grabs the jug and chugs it down, water dripping down his chin and onto his wet hoodie. He slams the empty jug on the table and breathes out. "That hit the spot."

Reiji heads back into the kitchen and grabs the dish cart, rolling it out towards Garou's table taking up his plates. "Allow me."

Garou flops back on his seat, and picks at his teeth with a toothpick left over from one of the sandwiches he ordered, content with a full belly. Reiji does his job dutifully, picking up the soiled dishes and sitting them on the cart to be rolled back in through the kitchen, slipping a used napkin of Garou's into his pocket. He bows again and walks away towards the kitchen, Garou watching until he's out of sight.

"Now what to do..." Garou whispers to himself. He takes the time to glance over the cafe which has calmed from his spectacle-though they still very much are whispering about it- and next to the security guards, watching as one of them slip into the bathroom and the other pulls out his phone checking a quick text.

Garou loosens the muscles in his legs, spreads his feet and slowly gets up.

It was now or never.

"Stop that man!" Jason yells. Not finished in totaling up his bill, he points after Garou who makes a beeline for the door. Security guards chasing after him in quick succession.

"Dine and Dasher!" A customer shouts.

Reiji comes pacing out of the kitchen, confused at the sudden yelling and shouting. "What's going on?"

"A dine and dasher! Bastard ate our food and dipped!" Jason spits, gritting his teeth.

"He slipped past security!" The waitress yells.

"Where are the guards?"

"Their chasing after him but he's fast! Never seen anyone move like that."

I knew this guy was trouble the moment he stepped through the door. Reiji rubs his face, bunching up his hair between his fingers as he rests his hand on his hip. "Just great, absolutely great."

The security guards had all but one job, to protect the cafe and the customers and they failed, miserably so. A single moment of lax attitude had allowed a free loader to escape their grasps. An annoyance that Reiji and the others would no doubt hear the end of.

"I don't get paid enough for this." He grumbles to himself.

Tsu Tsu takes the opportunity to rub his body between Reiji's legs just to criticize him. "Mreow."

"Yeah yeah I know! No need to rub it in." Reiji sighs and clicks his tongue, instantly waking up a white, black spotted rat that had been sleeping in the pocket of his apron. It climbs up his clothes quickly and sits next to him on his shoulder, the pink ribbon around it's neck tickling Reiji's ear who moves his hand to cover him up. He pulls the used napkin he took from Garou's table from the other pocket of his apron and lets the rat sniff at it.

"Follow him and be sure to alert the boss before she gets here."

The rat squeaks in obedience and runs past him, dodging the eyes of the customers quickly and running out of the front door.

Reiji rubs the back of his head and breathes out a sigh heavier than one before. This ain't gonna sit well with the boss.