April 4th, 2004

Everything hurt like hell. Mika Miura's eyes cracked open to greet the sun. Where am I? Cautiously, body still wracking with pain, she sat up. Glancing at a puddle of rain by her side, she noted that her eyes were showing their black sclera. Puffing a sigh, she closed them, then opened them again. Her eyes were—they were human. Good. She stood, knees almost buckling beneath her weight before she adjusted.

She sniffed the air.

No traces of blood or battle, except on herself.

Which was odd, because the last thing she remembered before passing out had been the One-Eyed King—Ken Kaneki was his name—turning into some motherfucking monstrosity and nearly eviscerating her in the process.

Rinkaku writhing out of her back, she scaled the walls of the alleyway with her tentacles. Gravity was a bitch to her weakened body—she really needed to eat soon—but she managed to find her footing on a rooftop.

Miura frowned, lips pressing into a thin line. What's this? Why's everything so... clean? Where's the King's, well, everything? Kaneki's dragon form had stretched across more than one ward the last she recalled. The battle can't be over already, can it?

She inhaled deeply, taking in all the fresh air.

I need a snack.


Inter-dimensionally Displaced Bride and Hungry Ghoul


A snack was found in short time. Some drunk in the adjacent alleyway. He'd been sprawled in his own beer cans.

Yuck, Miura gagged, Old drunk guys taste so nasty. This is seriously a low point. She liked to think that she had more dignity than this, but she had given in her instincts like any other ghoul. Some of her old ghoul friends used to say that she had too much pride.

Of course she had pride.

Unlike the rest of you, I'm not some uneducated hick. Miura chewed, aggravated, on the drunk's arm. She'd devoured library books alongside human meat during her youth, and had conned her way into high school and university. Like Nishiki Nishio, but better. Or so she liked to tell herself. She and Nishio hadn't been the only ghouls in Kamii University, but the others were irrelevant.

Mika Miura was a scientist first and foremost, and a ghoul second. She wasn't ashamed to admit that she enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, but she spent her time pursuing knowledge rather than prey.

She was a hungry ghoul.

Hungry for knowledge.

And, right now, a way back home.

She'd deduced by now that this certainly wasn't her Tokyo. It couldn't be. Everything screamed that it wasn't.

If I were to guess... Miura peered skyward, clutching a bloody leg in one hand. Ghouls probably don't exist here. This was a peaceful, ghoul-free world. Truly, she was intrigued to how it would be like, beyond this smelly little alleyway and this disgusting corpse. Would the world have achieved true peace without our existence? I wonder...

She thought back to the CCG and the Doves.

Miura smiled. Probably not. Humans and ghouls... We're more similar than either side would ever like to admit.

Using a nearby faucet to wash the blood off her face and hands, Miura stepped out of the alleyway to explore her new world.

Her first stop—the nearest university.


A/N: This is literally just my fever dream. University misadventures of 18, a Tokyo Ghoul OC, and L and Light. All chapters will be short and drabble-ish because it's all the energy I can afford it at the moment.