Embroidery

“Old lady, look out!”

A hail of projectiles rained down on them. Asa reached out for Tsumugi, who was walking ahead of her. However, the projectiles from the ukaku pierced through Asa’s outstretched hand, and then her body.

She cried out in pain, and as she was about to hit the concrete, she saw Tsumugi take an even more grievous injury and then collapse.

“Old lady!” Asa cried out, pushing off the ground with her injured right hand and hurrying over to Tsumugi. The masked Ghoul who’d attacked them blocked her way, however.

“Damn you!” Asa ground her molars together hard. She called on her power to release itself, splitting her skin as it rose to the surface in the scaled pattern of her rinkaku. “You son of a bitch!” She turned about and attempted to strike the masked Ghoul with all her might, but he leapt nimbly aside to dodge. It figured that he was capable. Now she had no choice but to focus her mind wholly on killing him.

“Ngh …”

Asa’s eyes darted over to Tsumugi’s silhouette. The pool of blood was growing ever larger. Asa’s mind raced, her thought process becoming muddled.

“Not paying attention?” There was no time to react. The man closed the distance all at once and attacked Asa from close range.

“Argh!” The kick caught Asa hard in the abdomen, sending her hurtling back into a telephone pole. The man then kicked her in the face where she huddled, and proceeded to stomp on her fallen form.

“Who the hell are you? Why are you wearing the old lady’s mask?” Asa asked, catching sight of the embroidered mask. Wasn’t the Ghoul who’d had Tsumugi’s mask supposed to be dead?

“You have no idea what’s going on with us, huh? Meh, whatever. Losing our breadwinner’s made us a bit cranky. So I guess I’ll just torture you to death, and—”

The man stopped short and backed away from Asa. She couldn’t understand why, but then, across the street, she saw a figure emerge from the shadows.

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped that.”

Asa could hardly believe it. “Uta?” But he’d already gone off.

“Uta, from the 4th Ward, huh? Hmph. This doesn’t look good …” The man looked over at Tsumugi as he backed away from his intimidating foe. The old woman wasn’t moving at all. “Well, guess I accomplished what I came to do. No point in sticking around. See ya!” The man then leapt into the air and darted off.

Ordinarily, Asa would have given chase, but now wasn’t the time for that. “Old lady!” She rushed to Tsumugi’s side. She had injuries all over, and was bleeding out. Asa tried using both hands to stanch the bleeding, but all she succeeded in doing was getting them soaked red. Her own Ghoul body had already begun to recover, whereas Tsumugi’s life was draining away.

“Th-that’s right! The hospital!” If she took Tsumugi there, they could help her.

As Asa was about to lift Tsumugi, the old woman managed to croak out some words. “You fool. I told you …”

“Old lady!”

“How do you plan on explaining this? With all these strange punctures … the doctors will realize … I’ve been attacked by a Ghoul  … ”

“So what? You have been attacked by a Ghoul!”

“And then the Ghoul investigators will come. If they investigate me … they’ll find out about you. Worst case, you might be killed …” With that, Tsumugi coughed, a large amount of blood spilling from her mouth.

Asa had killed countless people, had seen blood so many times before, but the sight of Tsumugi’s blood now made her tremble in fear.

“You can’t save me … I’d hoped for things to end this way.”

“You … you wanted this?”

Tsumugi’s eyes narrowed, and she stared up at the nighttime sky. “Yujiro raised two Ghouls … one who did the kidnapping, the other who did the butchering. The one who died was the kidnapper, so the one just now must’ve been the butcher …”

“There were two of them? But wait, why did you want this?” Asa couldn’t make sense of any of it.

Tsumugi went on, her voice halting. “He was long afraid that I might expose everything. He behaved while Yujiro was around, but now that Yujiro’s not long for this world … I suppose he decided to take action.”

It was visibly painful for her to talk, her upper body heaving with each raspy breath. The sight of her suffering like this brought a pain to Asa’s chest. “Why didn’t you say something before? I could have done something! This didn’t have to happen to you!”

Asa’s shouting made Tsumugi narrow her eyes again. “I just wanted to take responsibility for the life I’ve led.”

“Old lady …”

“This is fine …”

In the hospital room, Tsumugi had murmured something about deserving judgment. It seemed she hadn’t been referring only to Yujiro, but to herself as well.

Her eyes grew heavier, her pupils disappearing behind her eyelids. She was dying, about to drift off into the dark. It hadn’t been a long time, but the days she’d spent with Tsumugi flashed through Asa’s memories.

“No,” she said, feeling a heat growing in her chest. “Don’t you die on me, old lady! I’ve had so much fun … I’ve had so much fun spending time with you!” She was a human, and an elderly woman, at that. She would have been completely beneath the old Asa’s notice; now the girl was despairing so much that she found it hard to breathe. “Your masks were so amazing, and your embroidery is amazing too! I mean you were a pain in the ass at first, but at some point, I … I started having fun, and …”

Tears fell from Asa’s eyes, one after the other.

“There was a warmth inside me, and sometimes even a tightness in my chest … and right now it just hurts so much … Don’t die, old lady … You can’t. You still have so much more to teach me!”

Uta silently cast his gaze aside as Asa shouted. There was a sudden warm sensation on her cheek. She watched as Tsumugi took the palm of her hand and roughly wiped away the tears.

“You’re getting all sentimental on me,” the old woman said, tears streaming from her own eyes. “Don’t do shoddy work now, Asa,” she added with a tiny smile, her wrinkled face wrinkling up all the more.

With that, her hand limply fell away.

“Old lady?” Asa looked at Tsumugi in disbelief. But she wasn’t moving anymore. She wasn’t answering. “Old lady!”

Asa drew the body up into her arms and held it close, unable to hold back her scream. “Tsumugi!”

“Uta, did you know all this from the beginning?”

They were back at Tsumugi’s house. Asa had washed the blood away and lain her out atop the bed. She looked into the dead woman’s face, her voice dry. “That someone was after her, I mean. And if I’d known, would there … could I have protected her?”

Uta shook his head. He looked back and forth between Asa and Tsumugi, and then calmly muttered, “All I wanted was to take a look at Tsumugi’s embroidery. And …”

“And what?”

“And I thought you two would have really good chemistry, so …”

Asa looked back at Uta.

“I wanted you two to meet each other.”

Asa’s eyes went wide. Then she bit her lip hard as she looked at him.

Even though the loss hurt, even though there was sadness in death, even though Tsumugi was a human and Asa was a Ghoul …

… she was glad to have met her.

She truly felt that, deep down.

VI

Several days after Tsumugi’s passing, Asa stood outside the 8th Ward police station in the full glow of the streetlights. A man stepped out of the station and came over to her.

“Sorry I haven’t been in touch. Did you happen to find who made that mask?” It was the detective, Morimine. Asa had been in contact with him.

“I didn’t, no. I asked around, but none of my contacts had any hunches to go on,” she lied blithely.

“I see. Well, I mean, thanks for taking the trouble to look into this for me. I appreciate your cooperation.” Morimine was at least quick to thank her for the effort. He was probably a decent guy. Which meant he might do what humans would call “the right thing.”

“I do have some other information, though.”

“Other information?”

Asa nodded. “Promise not to ask too many questions?” she asked.

Morimine regarded the serious look in her eyes, and steeled his resolve. “Sure.”

“You’re working on the Yujiro Utsumi case, is that right, detective?”

Shock spread out across Morimine’s face. He was about to ask something, but closed his mouth, swallowed, and gave a simple, “Yes.”

Asa continued. “Apparently, Yujiro Utsumi used Ghouls to abduct young women, and then he ate their flesh.” She shouldn’t get this involved with human affairs, and there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t hang for the decision at some later point. But Asa was willing to take the risk.

“You’re saying that Yujiro Utsumi ate human flesh despite being a human himself?” Morimine asked in disbelief, rubbing at his forehead.

“I don’t have any proof, so whether you believe me or not is up to you, detective.”

Asa was surprised at how quick Morimine was to respond. “No, I believe you,” he said. “Thanks to you, all the pieces have come together. Guess this maybe was a human’s doing after all.” Then, something else appeared to click inside his head. “In that case, then Otokaze might … Oh, this is bad. I’ve got to stop her!”

Morimine turned on his heel, clearly unable to hold back his racing thoughts, but stopped long enough to look back and say, “Thank you so much for all your assistance.”

“Is it cool to just leave me be when I know this secret?” Asa asked.

The corner of Morimine’s mouth curled up slightly at Asa’s inordinate forthrightness. “You’ve changed your face,” he said.

“Huh?”

“A bunch of stuff happened to me a little while back, so I get it. It’s a good look for you,” Morimine said. Then, he offered a casual “See ya!” before heading off.

Left by herself, Asa reached up to stroke her cheek. “What’s that about?” she muttered quietly to herself. “Well, I guess it’s to be expected.”

The day Tsumugi died, Uta had told her, “Tsumugi said she wanted to leave this house to you. And she told me to list you as one of her family members. I’ll see about having Itori handle the relevant paperwork for that.”

“She wanted me to have the house?”

“Way back when, this used to be Tsumugi’s dressmaking shop. She said she wanted it turned back into a shop, whether it’s a mask shop or whatever else.”

She didn’t have the skill to open a shop. But someday, once she’d gotten better, she would open one there. She couldn’t do shoddy work.

Wound around her arm now was the scarf Tsumugi had embroidered. She clutched it tightly and turned her gaze back ahead. “All right, let’s go home!”

Back home, where some trace of Tsumugi still lingered.

The tiny archivist reveals the truth through snippets cut from the flow of time.

“Idol Fest?” Chie Hori repeated, curious. It was eleven o’clock at night, and the crowds around the 20th Ward station were beginning to thin out.

“Yeah, tomorrow in the 1st Ward, apparently,” affirmed the familiar street musician.

Chie stroked the camera that hung from her neck as she murmured the words to herself one more time. “Idol Fest, huh?” She had close-cropped black hair and bright, round eyes that darted this way and that in no real hurry. By outward appearances she looked like a grade-schooler, though in fact she was a grown young woman attending university. She devoted far more time to her hobby than her schooling, however, and rarely even went to campus.

That hobby, as the camera that hung around her neck made clear, was photography. She’d long had a love for taking pictures, the thought of it occupying her every waking hour. While her height never increased, her fervor for photography did, and now she scurried about to and fro in search of interesting pictures to take.

She’d returned to the 20th Ward several days ago, but here and there she still asked her acquaintances if there was anything interesting going on when she ran into them.

“Abrupt as ever, Chiehori,” the musician laughed as he resituated the guitar that hung over his shoulder. “I hear some big-name idols have been invited. I’m going too!”

“You’re an idol singer now, Ikuma?”

“Oh, no, no! I’m just going to help load stuff.” His name was Ikuma Momochi, an affable young man who’d moved to Tokyo at age twenty to follow his musical aspirations. By day he worked for a shipping company, and by night he took his trusty guitar out by the train station to sing. “Apparently it’s an all-female idol event. But you don’t strike me as having much interest in idol singers.”

He then handed Chie a piece of candy he’d received from a fan. Though he’d gotten used to life in Tokyo, he still had his old accent, along with a big secret.

“It’s too bad you can’t eat candy,” Chie said.

“It’s too bad I can’t eat any human food.” While Ikuma appeared to be a typical young man in pursuit of his dreams, he was, in reality, a Ghoul. The only thing he was able to eat was human flesh, and his eyes would go awash with red when he was on the cusp of danger.

But although he was a Ghoul, he was a more gentle sort, one who tried his utmost to live as a part of human society. Evidently, he didn’t kill people, and fed only on the flesh of suicides.

“So anyhow, how’s Tsukiyama doing?” Ikuma said, asking about one of his fellow Ghouls.

“Tsukiyama? He’s out being a stalker right now.”

“Man, Tsukiyama’s got this weird ability that, no matter what he does, it just comes across as such a ‘Tsukiyama’ thing to do, y’know?”

And Tsukiyama didn’t do things at all like Ikuma did. No, Shu Tsukiyama was a belligerent Ghoul, and no means were too craven for him to obtain the fine meals he constantly sought. As someone who enjoyed the act of hunting, he was certainly a very “ghoulish” Ghoul from a human perspective, but his very particular tastes evidently made him something of an oddball maverick even to his own kind.

Tsukiyama and Chie Hori had been inseparable since high school, ever since Chie managed to snap a photo of him feeding. Her nose for a good scoop had led her to follow her classmate in secret, and she’d gotten the picture she’d been after.

At first Tsukiyama had wanted to kill Chie for taking his picture, but his interest in her seemed to grow upon seeing her unflinchingly taking photos of whatever situation she encountered. Since then they’d been close associates, despite the lack of desire to actually interact.

And lately, Tsukiyama had been absorbed by thoughts of his current prey.

“He says he’s found some super tasty-looking prey, but there’s some trouble in actually getting to eat it.”

“Huh. Sounds like someone’s in a bit of a bind.”

Chie popped the candy she’d gotten from Ikuma into her mouth. “Mm-hmm,” she agreed. “But more importantly, you said this Idol Fest is tomorrow, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. Wait, are you going?” He didn’t think Chie would have any interest in an idol festival.

The look on Ikuma’s face told Chie that there could be some rare sights, and so she pointed to her camera. “I just have a feeling I’ll be able to take some neat photos!”

Ikuma’s cheeks pulled back at that. “I’m a little scared by anything you’d consider ‘neat,’ Chie Hori.”

II

It was the day of the Idol Fest that Ikuma had mentioned, and the concert grounds were brimming with an unusual enthusiasm. Stalls offering pop star merchandise lined the open plaza, and throngs of spectators were crammed together in front of the outdoor stage.

“Ohhh, I can’t see a thing!” Chie had come all this way hoping to get a look at some idols, but a tall, thick wall of men blocked her view, and given her diminutive stature she had no hope of seeing over it. Taking photos from this vantage would be even more of a problem.

“Hmmm …” Chie scanned the grounds. “Aha!” she said upon spotting a large tree far off to one side. She circled the tree in order to scope it out first, then got up on one of the roots and proceeded to climb up using footholds in the bark. Soon she reached a large branch and sat herself down on it, finally able to peek through her camera.

By zooming in, she was able to get a look at the showily dressed idol singers dancing about. There was a surprising assortment of them, some clad in adorable pastel-colored outfits, others scurrying about like they were in some comedy routine, and everything in between. “Ah, so this is what sort of event this is,” Chie said, whimsically clicking the shutter on her camera.

While she was checking the photos she’d taken, the cheers of the crowd started to die down. It looked as though a minor idol singer, one who didn’t look like they’d be on television, was performing on center stage.

“Huh?” Chie muttered as another meek-looking girl got up on stage.

“Next up, we have college student idol singer Mitsuba!”

Chie readied her camera again. So, even girls like this do idol singing? The music began to play as the introduction finished, and the girl called Mitsuba started to sing.

“Oh wow,” Chie murmured. The girl wore a frilled skirt and a hair band with ribbons. She certainly looked the part of an idol singer, and her voice carried clear and distinct, but here and there her expression looked sad and lonely, contrary to her cheerful tune.

The time she’d been allotted was short, and before long her song came to an end. Upon finishing, she bowed her head and then hurried backstage and out of sight. Then, a sudden voice jolted Chie. “Hey, you! It’s not safe to climb up there!”

It was one of the venue’s security guards, shouting at Chie up in the tree. Chie slid back down, and then made her way back over toward the stage.

“H-hey!” called the security guard, presumably wanting Chie to stop so he could press for more of an explanation, but she disappeared into the massive crowd near the stage. She then calmly inspected the photos on her camera.

“Whoa!” It was a photo of Mitsuba, who’d just been performing. Despite her flashy title of idol singer, her expression was flat, her eyes vacant. Her lips were faintly parted as if to call out to someone, sadness about to issue forth from them.

“Now just what is the story here, I wonder?”

Slipping her way out of the Idol Fest, Chie made her way to a nearby café and transferred her data to the laptop she carried in her backpack. She sipped hot cocoa topped with a dollop of fresh cream as she reviewed her photos on the larger monitor—specifically, the ones she’d taken of Mitsuba.

According to what Chie could find on the Internet, the girl was nineteen years old. She had a somber disposition and wasn’t very self-assertive, to the point where even her fans seemed perplexed as to why she’d become an idol singer.

Well, that’s certainly begging for a follow-up, Chie thought to herself as she went on to check the other photographs she’d taken that day.

The bell at the café entrance jangled as a new customer came in, and on some curious instinct, Chie looked up.

“Aha.” Her hunch had been right: slipping in through the door was none other than the Ghoul gourmet, Shu Tsukiyama.

He took notice of Chie soon enough himself. “Oddio!” he cried out, his right hand extended, his left set against his forehead as he arched his body slightly. At once, all eyes were upon him. Could he just not stand not being the center of attention? The fact that he could lead such an active life without being caught by the CCG made Chie think that, while the CCG might be made up of professionals, they certainly weren’t perfect.

“Oh, Hori! Have you been lying in ambush for me?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.”

Tsukiyama sat down across from Chie as if it were a matter of course. “Then what have you been doing?” he asked.

“Organizing photos.”

“Ha ha! Ever the shutterbug! C’mon, show me what you’ve got, my little insect!” Tsukiyama said, gracefully extending his hand, palm up.

Chie plopped the laptop into his outstretched hand, which promptly smacked down onto the table, Tsukiyama having seemingly underestimated how heavy it would be. “God, and you’re still such a tomboy, too,” he said, his expression unflinching, the computer still atop his palm, clicking away at the keys with his free hand like it was a piano. “You’ve been taking pictures of some pretty fancy stuff, haven’t you?” He seemed surprised that Chie would have taken pictures of trendy pop singers. His eyes were fixed on the screen as his fingers methodically tabbed from one photo to the next.

When he got to one photo, however, his fingers stopped. “Hmm …”

It was a photo of Mitsuba.

“White lines down to her throat like a Greek sculpture, her eyes like a cocktail of sadness … Well now, isn’t she quite a marvelous subject to be photographed!”

“They said her name’s Mitsuba,” Chie said, eyeing the photo as she took the laptop back from Tsukiyama. “I feel like I could take a much better picture of her than this!”

Tsukiyama let out a nasal hum, sipping at the coffee one of the employees brought him. “By the way, Hori, I’ve got a real obsession right now.”

“It’s Kaneki, isn’t it?”

Ken Kaneki, a Ghoul from the 20th Ward who apparently worked part time at the café Anteiku. Tsukiyama had followed him around previously with the hopes of eating him, but had since come to work together with him. His other companions weren’t quite as trusting, and seemed to exclude him, but Tsukiyama wasn’t the sort to be down about that.

“Ah, so the tale that Kaneki and I weave has indeed reached your ears!” Tsukiyama said, raising his right hand high. “Ever since we began working together, every day is spicier and spicier! You can tell, can’t you? That I have this glow I never possessed before!”

“I’m sure Kaneki’s wallet is happy with that, at any rate.”

“Non. Riches are just another form of power. Which is a price worth paying for Kaneki’s time! It’s the ample time we do spend together that so deepens our trusting relationship.”

“You sound like some old man talking about his favorite hostess,” Chie said. Was he of a mind to one day betray that trust with a sword, only to lick at blood that dripped down from the blade? No, Chie thought blithely. She didn’t think anyone would trust him in his whole life.

“Oh, speaking of which,” Chie said, suddenly remembering something, “what are you doing for ‘food’ nowadays?” Apparently, Kaneki was scouring the wards in search of something. If that was the case, then Tsukiyama was probably going along with him, and considering that Tsukiyama’s finicky, particular tastes currently had him craving Kaneki above anything else, Chie had to wonder what he’d been eating instead.

“I’m getting by,” Tsukiyama replied quickly enough. “After having set eyes on Kaneki, everything else looks like such meager fare—that is how exquisite Kaneki is!”

Tsukiyama looked like he was ready to launch into another spiel about Kaneki when Chie blurted out, “Wait, what? The self-styled ‘gourmet’ has been getting by on junk food?” Her eyes were wide with astonishment.

Tsukiyama stared back at her, the look on his face making it look as if he’d just been struck by lightning. “I do beg your pardon?”

“I know you’ve had your sights set on Kaneki, and you’ve also never been one to skimp when it comes to meals. I guess people really do change.” Well, Tsukiyama wasn’t necessarily a “person,” per se.

Chie put her computer back into her backpack and stood up. She tried to leave Tsukiyama with the check, but he held out his right arm to block her path. “Hold it right there!” His brow was furrowed, and he had an almost exaggerated look of pain on his face as he forced out his words. “Oh, Hori! Your words pierce my delicate heart, sweet and smooth, like a knife through cheesecake!”

“But you’ve never even eaten a cheesecake.”

Ignoring Chie’s words, Tsukiyama continued repentantly. “Oh, Hori, it’s just like you said. I, Shu Tsukiyama, born to seek out and consume only the finest cuisine, have had to stoop so low as to consume common food. And once I know what Kaneki tastes like, nothing else will ever be worth tasting again! However”—he suddenly thrust a finger at Chie—“I have decided that, though she might not meet the standards of my discerning palate, I must have this delicious, despairing diva you’ve shown me!”

“Huh?” That finally got a reaction out of Chie. Here was Tsukiyama, talking about how he wanted to eat Mitsuba. “No way. I need to take pictures of her.”

“Seeing that picture finally stirred my appetite after so long! Not as much as Kaneki, of course, but there’s something in her that makes her such an enticing cocktail. I am sorry, but she will be mine.”

Tsukiyama’s proud laugh pushed Chie over the edge, and without a word she took what was left of the syrupy cocoa and dumped it over his head as hard as she could before marching out of the café.

“H-Hori! Do you have any idea how long it takes to do my hair right?!”

Now Tsukiyama would probably go home and take a shower. Chie adjusted the backpack bouncing against her back, got out her smartphone, and began a web search on Mitsuba. She needed to make sure she found her before Tsukiyama did.

III

“Guess this is the place,” Chie said, looking up at the apartment building. Having heard that Mitsuba lived in housing provided by her agency, Chie had been able to deduce her address from photos and statements she’d posted to her blog, along with other eyewitness accounts from the Internet.

It was already past midnight, and given the possibility that Tsukiyama might well use his wealth to gather information, Chie figured there was a fifty-fifty chance the girl was still safe.

“Well, the lights in her room are still on.” Chie made her way up to the second-floor apartment and rang the doorbell.

“Yes?” came a reply from inside. “Who is it?” Chie recognized Mitsuba’s voice from the Idol Fest. It seemed she was safe after all—but still, it wouldn’t be too surprising for Tsukiyama to turn up at any time.

Chie faced the peephole and said, “I’ve come to deliver some photographs.”

“Photographs?” She was bound to be confused by that, but she also didn’t seem to be terribly wary of someone who looked like a grade-schooler, and so she opened the door, visibly curious. “Who asked you to deliver these photographs, miss?”

In a complete change of pace from her outfit at the Idol Fest, Mitsuba was dressed far more casually in jeans and a three-quarter shirt. Probably nobody would suspect she was an idol singer if they saw her out on the street wearing that, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that sort of thing.

“Pardon the interruption,” Chie said, slipping her way in through the open door without bothering to ask permission. Once inside, she took the intense perfume she’d brought out of her backpack and sprayed its scent around the room.

“Whoa, what?!” Mitsuba cried out, eyes going wide with bewilderment. Chie headed farther inside and started spraying with another type of perfume. “Um, miss? What are you doing?”

The different scents intermingled, stirring up a stench that almost made it difficult to breathe inside the one-room apartment. Tsukiyama ought to find the vulgar scent repugnant, to the point where being awash in it would be more than he could stand, making him unable to do much of anything without first taking a break for a shower.

Chie scanned the room, ignoring the confused Mitsuba behind her, who clearly wasn’t sure how to deal with this. “Huh?” the girl squeaked out as Chie unlatched the window, then picked up the cell phone and wallet that were on the table and tossed them to her. Flustered, Mitsuba managed to catch them.

“Okay, now let’s go and—” Chie began, stopping as she noticed the picture hanging by the front door. It was a family photo showing a young Mitsuba, her parents, and a girl Chie guessed was Mitsuba’s older sister. Chie picked up the photograph, forcibly handed it off, then said, “Okay!” as she grabbed hold of Mitsuba’s arm and dragged her outside.

“Miss, I, ah … I don’t know what this is all about, but …” Mitsuba was quite flustered, but Chie could feel something in the air behind them, like little pinpricks, and she shushed the girl before hiding behind a telephone pole. Watching Mitsuba’s apartment from the shadows, Chie could see someone trying to sneak in through the window.

“Hey, what’s …” Mitsuba had noticed the suspicious man now as well. He opened the window, slipped fluidly inside, and then, a mere moment later, jumped right back out, holding his nose.

“Guess we can call the scent bomb a huge success,” Chie said. She walked quietly so as not to catch Tsukiyama’s attention, then broke into a run after rounding the corner at an intersection.

“M-miss, what’s going on? Who is that man?”

“I have a name, you know. It’s Chie Hori,” Chie said, introducing herself.

“Chie Hori?”

“Yeah.”

By now they’d come out onto a main thoroughfare. Chie stuck out her right hand and hailed a taxi. “Come on, get in.”

“Wait, hold on. Where are we going?”

Chie felt it was only fair to give poor, perplexed young girl another hint. “Mitsuba, you’re being hunted by a Ghoul.”

Mitsuba stiffened visibly.

“Come with me if you want to live.”

“Where are we?” Mitsuba asked as they got out of the taxi, fearfully inspecting her surroundings.

“We’re near a Ghoul detention center.” Up ahead, the building was visible, encircled by a tall fence. There was no telling what might be inside.

“Then we’re in the 23rd Ward?”

“You know it, then?”

“Yes. I used to live in the 23rd Ward a while back, so I’ve heard of it. But wait, wasn’t there a breakout at this detention facility a few months ago?”

She was right. Several months earlier, a number of Ghouls had indeed managed to escape from the Ghoul detention center, and the 23rd Ward had been in a state of high alert ever since as a result. “Yep. According to the rumors, some of the Ghoul escapees were particularly nasty, too,” Chie said.

“But Miss Hori, hold on. Doesn’t that mean it’s dangerous around here?” Mitsuba seemed like she thought one of these nasty Ghouls could be right next to her, and she continued to uneasily inspect her surroundings.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. After the breakout, a whole bunch of Ghoul investigators were assigned to the 23rd Ward, and Cochlea had its security beefed up a ton,” Chie said as she led them to a nearby park. With a soft huff, she sat down on a bench and patted the spot beside her, which Mitsuba promptly took.

“So what do you mean, I’m being hunted by a Ghoul?” she asked.

A picture being worth a thousand words, Chie took her laptop out of her backpack and showed her the photo she’d taken of Tsukiyama feeding from way back when. A tiny squeak of fear escaped Mitsuba’s throat, and she went pale.

“Apparently this Ghoul has taken a liking to you, Mitsuba, and he’s decided to track you down. Which, uh, might be partially my fault.”

“Your fault, Miss Hori?”

“Yeah. This Ghoul’s an acquaintance of mine. His name’s Tsukiyama.”

“You’ve got a Ghoul for an acquaintance? Then … then does that mean you’re …”

Probably she was wondering whether Chie was also a Ghoul like Tsukiyama. Under the circumstances, it may have been reasonable to think.

“Hey, I might have a Ghoul acquaintance, but I’m very human!” Chie said promptly, to clear things up.

“But sheltering a Ghoul isn’t something you …”

“Sheltering? Hey, I’m just leaving him be,” Chie replied, pulling up the photo that started this whole mess. “I wound up showing him this picture of you singing at the Idol Fest, and that sparked his interest.”

Mitsuba gasped as she saw the picture. “Is … that what I look like when I sing?” It was as if she’d been shown a picture of someone she didn’t recognize. She just stared at it, dumbstruck. After a moment, however, she snapped out of it. “You’re a very talented photographer, Miss Hori,” she said.

Chie slipped her computer back into her backpack and hopped off of the bench. “If Tsukiyama finds you, you’re going to get eaten, so for starters you should probably hide for the time being. I know someone who has a place here in the 23rd Ward, so let’s see about hiding you there for a while.”

“But Miss Hori, since this is a Ghoul matter, shouldn’t we take this to the CCG? They should be able to help me, right?” Mitsuba asked.

“That’s a no-go,” Chie replied. “The CCG could harbor you for a while, sure, but it’s not like you can just live there forever, right? And investigators can’t guard you 24/7, either—and besides, Tsukiyama’s likely stronger than they’d be, anyway.”

Chie went on. “Also, assuming we did somehow eliminate Tsukiyama, his Ghoul family would be out for revenge, and you’d wind up being killed anyway. They’re kind of a … unique bunch.”

“Then it sounds like there’s no way to save me …” It was understandable for Mitsuba to lose hope. Even just having Tsukiyama after her was frightening enough.

But Chie hadn’t come to her without a plan.

“I don’t know if we can pull it off, but I have an idea of how to avoid him for the time being.” A glimmer of hope appeared on Mitsuba’s face. “I feel like I could take much better pictures of you, Mitsuba.” Which was why Chie couldn’t let her get eaten by Tsukiyama.

Mitsuba probably didn’t even understand half of what Chie meant, but she seemed to have at least some idea. Standing up from the bench, she lowered her head. “If you would, please.”

Chie took Mitsuba to a high-end condominium not too far from the Ghoul detention center.

“This is incredible …” the girl said as she took in the sights of the extravagant interior design and dazzling decorations. The window offered a great look out at the nighttime cityscape.

“Let’s hide out here for now. Oh, and you should probably contact the people from your agency. Let them know you probably won’t be back for a while.”

“Oh. Yes, right …”

Chie sat down on the floor in a position she was quite used to, then got her computer out of her backpack and booted it up. She then got out some snacks, rolled up her sleeves, and opened her photo files.

“What are you doing, Miss Hori?”

“Mmm … just picking out some pictures.”

“Picking them out for what?”

“Figure I might be able to sell some.” It was too much to hope that she’d be able to win out over Tsukiyama on her lonesome. If she could sell some of her photos, she’d be able to purchase some assistance.

“Oh, by the way,” Chie said then, remembering the photo of Mitsuba’s family amidst trying to figure out the next stages of her plan, “what’s your family like, Mitsuba?” Knowing Tsukiyama, there was a chance he’d make contact with her family in order to get information. That wouldn’t be too bad by itself, but it would be a disaster if Chie blurted out that Tsukiyama’s particular sensibilities might get the better of him and cause him to eat her family as part of some taste-comparison test. “It just might be a little risky if Tsukiyama makes contact with them.”

Mitsuba’s eyes drooped at that. “You don’t need to worry about that,” she murmured. “My father remarried and is living overseas now. I get email from him sometimes, but that’s it, so he knows almost nothing about what’s going on with me.”

She set the family photo atop the table and clutched her knees. Tsukiyama could probably still get to someone overseas if he caught wind of things, but given his current obsession with Kaneki, Chie doubted he’d go through the effort. So Mistuba’s father was probably safe.

“What about the other two?” Chie asked, looking at the photo set on the table.

Mitsuba huddled herself up even tighter. “They’re … missing.”

Chie stopped her typing and looked up. “Both of them?

“Did they go missing together?”

“No, separately,” Mistuba said. “Sorry. I’m not really explaining it right, huh?” she added with a bitter laugh.

Chie shook her head. “It’s all right,” she said. “Would you mind telling me about them?”

For a while, Mitsuba was lost in thought, but then seemed to find the resolve to talk. “My sister ran away when she was in high school. My mother was worried sick over it, and a year later she went missing too.”

Mitsuba’s sister was about ten years older than her, and had longed to become an idol singer since she was little. Back at home, she was always dressing up in cute little outfits and singing with a toy microphone. Her mother and father would laugh and smile as they watched her, praising her singing.

As her sister grew up, however, her mother began to frown upon these antics. “You’re in high school now! How long are you going to cling to this silly dream of becoming an idol singer?”

“It’s not some silly dream! I’m serious about this!”

Mitsuba’s sister held off on taking her college entrance exams, and almost every day she and her mother had arguments about her future. Her sister said that she wanted to quit school and go into the entertainment industry, but her mother staunchly forbade it. Her father stayed out of it, pretending not to notice as the other two argued incessantly. Mitsuba had wanted to support her sister, but her mother’s threatening, oppressive demeanor forced her into silence.

The arguments came to a head when Mitsuba’s sister went and got herself business cards from an entertainment agency.

It had been a summer day, the air filled with the droning of cicadas. There was the usual angry shouting from Mitsuba’s mother and shrill cries from her sister. At some point, Mitsuba’s mother raised her hand and struck her daughter across the cheek.

“Mommy, stop it!” Mitsuba hurriedly interposed herself between them after seeing her sister fall to the floor. Her sister shoved her out of the way, however, and got back up, a hand pressed to where she’d been hit on the cheek.

“You used to encourage me so much when I was little! You’re such a bitch, mom!” her sister spat before gathering up her things and rushing out the front door, slamming it closed behind her.

“Sis …”

“Leave her!” Mitsuba’s mother snapped before she could chase after her sister, then stomped off to the kitchen, indignant. This wasn’t the first time her sister had stormed off, and so Mitsuba was sure she’d come back home before long. Previously, it had turned out that she’d actually just gone to her voice lessons.

But that time, when her sister left the house in tears after her mother hit her, was the last time Mitsuba ever saw her. She never came back.

After that, her mother and father began arguing daily. Her father would tell his wife it was her fault. Despite having gone for so long watching their fights and ignoring them, he still had the gall to blame her every day for their daughter never coming home.

Her mother would cry, tears falling onto the photo of her daughter she clutched in her hands day in and day out.

And then, a year after Mitsuba’s sister disappeared, her mother vanished as well, leaving only a note that read: “I’m sorry.”

“Ah, maybe that’s it,” Chie said, feeling like she’d hit upon the answer now that Mitsuba’s explanation was finished. “The sad look on your face, I mean.” She brought up the photo on her computer screen again.

“I thought that if I went into the entertainment industry, I might find my sister. Given how badly she’d wanted to become an idol singer, I was sure that’s where she’d be working. And if I got famous enough, maybe my mother would see me on TV. But now, I … I don’t really think either of them is alive anymore …”

“Hmm. I see,” Chie said, crossing her arms, rocking about restlessly as her eyes darted around. She then got out a pen and some paper and handed them to Mitsuba. “Write down the names of everyone in your family.”

“Huh?”

“I’m gonna do some searching.” Because just maybe, she might find the key to all this.

It was after three o’clock in the morning, and the exhausted Mitsuba lay on the floor. Chie worked at curating her photos while also running searches online, scanning through news reports. A run of burglaries. Hospital patients suffering injuries. Sports news. Financial data.

“Hmm?” As Chie was following this narrow thread of hers, one word unexpectedly jumped out at her. “Huh …”

She wanted to go and look into it right away, but she couldn’t well leave Mitsuba here. Instead, she called up a helpful friend of hers.

“Hey, Ikuma? There’s a little something I could use your help with …”

IV

“You know the 23rd Ward is terrifying, right, Chie?” Ikuma fretted. It was the next day, and he’d come bearing plastic supermarket bags in both hands. Chie had asked him to look into things, and also to pick up some food, supplies, and other daily necessities. It seemed, however, that having to set foot in the 23rd Ward while it was on special alert was something of a tribulation for a Ghoul like him. He continued to look around restlessly.

“Thanks! This is a big help,” Chie said. “So what do you think?”

“Well, it looks like you might be onto something with regard to that thing you had me look into.”

“Aha. I thought as much. Do you think you’d be able to get in touch with someone for me next?” Chie asked, handing Ikuma some notes she’d written down for what to do next.

The conflicted look on Ikuma’s face was quite unlike anything Chie had seen from Tsukiyama. “Chie, I’m not really that good at this sort of thing. I might be a Ghoul, but I’m really just a normal guy.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could pull it off.”

“Sheesh, no pressure or anything. I mean, I guess I’ll see what I can do,” Ikuma uttered meekly. “Besides, that poor girl must have it really rough,” he added. At least he seemed worried for Mitsuba. “I never should’ve told you about that Idol Fest …”

With that, Ikuma hurried away from the condominium, a distant look in his eyes. He clearly felt like he alone bore responsibility for this whole mess.

Chie had Ikuma helping her out as she spent day and night at the 23rd Ward condo gathering information. Before she knew it a week had passed, and it was dawning on her that she might well be in for a long haul here.

“Hmmm … This is taking a while.” Chie had actually made contact with someone who could turn this whole thing around at the drop of a hat, but given her own position and not wanting to put her contact too on edge, she hadn’t been able to make much forward progress.

She hadn’t heard from her contact today, either, and it was already past sunset. Well, not much I can do about it now, Chie thought as she took her gaze away from her computer screen and began to fiddle with her camera.

“Hm?” She heard a quiet voice, singing. Straining to make it out, she recognized it as an idol song that had been popular a long while back. Mitsuba was singing, apparently. Chie headed to the back room and poked her head in to check on Mitsuba.

“I’m sorry. Was I being too loud?”

Chie shook her head. “It’s all right,” she said. “You have fond memories of that song?”

“My sister used to sing it a lot. Back when my mom and dad used to listen to her, smiles on their faces, and tell her how good she was.” Mitsuba’s eyes narrowed with visible nostalgia. “I think my sister was really happy for all that. Even after she grew up, she’d always carry around her old toy microphone in her bag …”

The look of reminiscence on her face then grew tinged with sadness. “I guess people need to learn to let go of the past,” she laughed, trying to cover that up. “But how are you doing, Miss Hori?”

“No real progress. We might need to move to a new base of operations soon so that Tsukiyama doesn’t find us,” Chie said, and as she ran through a mental checklist of where their next safe house might be, the intercom chimed. She padded over to the front door and opened it.

There stood Ikuma, a rather serious look on his face. “Chie, I think I’ve got something,” he said, quietly enough for Mitsuba not to overhear as he showed Chie a picture.

Chie took a good look at it, then nodded. “Got it. I hate to bother you, but do you mind coming inside?”

Every other time, Ikuma and Chie had done their business by the door, and he’d gone home as soon as things finished up. Mitsuba’s eyes widened to see him actually come into the room. “Good evening,” he said.

“Oh! Thank you so much for all you help.” Mitsuba hadn’t been informed that Ikuma was a Ghoul. Probably she just thought he was a nice, helpful young man. Today, however, she appeared to sense that something else was going on with him and Chie, and her expression stiffened.

“Mitsuba, could you come here for a sec?” Chie said, sitting down on the floor. Ikuma sat down alongside her. Mitsuba sat across from them, her eyes attentive.

Chie decided to cut straight to the point. “Mitsuba, we’ve tracked down your mother and your sister.”

Mitsuba let out a quick, sharp gasp at the sudden news. “My … my mother and my sister?”

“Yes. I won’t beat around the bush: your sister is already dead. Your mother stabbed someone and then attempted suicide, and is in critical condition.”

“Ah …” That probably wasn’t anything like the answer Mitsuba had been expecting. She was visibly stricken, and began to tremble as she took in Chie’s words.

“Chie, did you really need to put it like that?” Ikuma said, his sympathy for Mitsuba plain.

Ignoring him, Chie kept her gaze on Mitsuba. “Do you still want to know?” she asked.

There was a long pause before Mitsuba replied, in a shaky whisper, “I … I do.”

“No matter what the details are?”

Mitsuba swallowed hard, then nodded. “No matter what the details are!”

“Hmm. All right,” Chie said. She took out the note paper she’d had Mitsuba write her family’s names down on a week before and showed it to her. “Your mother is Kazene Mitsuba, and your sister is Kiyone Mitsuba, correct?” Mitsuba nodded yes. “On the day of the Idol Fest, there was an incident in an 8th Ward hospital where a terminally ill patient named Yujiro Utsumi was stabbed by his housekeeper. Afterward, the housekeeper tried to kill herself.”

The day she’d first brought Mitsuba to this condo, Chie had inadvertently come across the incident while browsing news stories online. It had recently come to light that the perpetrator behind a string of incidents involving missing high school girls had been a Ghoul: Yujiro Utsumi’s adopted daughter, Koharu Utsumi. These incidents apparently went back as far as eighteen years ago, with high school girls being abducted mainly from the 8th Ward and the wards neighboring it—including the 23rd, where Mitsuba had said she used to live.

“The housekeeper who stabbed Yujiro Utsumi was apparently named ‘Otokaze.’ ” Mitsuba’s mother’s name was Kazene. If you switched the kanji around and changed their readings, you got “Otokaze.”

“Thanks to the detective who rushed to the scene, Yujiro Utsumi survived the attack and is still alive, at least for the time being. The same detective was apparently quick enough to deal with Otokaze after she tried to kill herself; he wound up saving her life. Probably lucky that this all happened in a hospital. Anyhow, I had Ikuma get in touch with this detective for me. They discussed things behind the scenes, and he managed to get this photo of Otokaze.” Chie slid the photo she’d gotten from Ikuma over to Mitsuba.

Mitsuba cried out at the sight of the emaciated woman sleeping in the bed. “Mother!” She looked nothing like the woman in the happy family photo Chie had seen before, but Mitsuba’s voice confirmed it. Her mother. Tears began to stream down the girl’s face.

“So this is just supposition on my part, but I think what happened is that, while your mother was looking for your sister, she ran across this Utsumi family, and she may have become their housekeeper as part of her search.”

Mitsuba grabbed on to Chie’s shirt and leaned in close. “Miss Hori, is there some way I can see my mother? Please, I … I want to see her!” While the reality of the situation was grave, it didn’t change the fact that her mother was still alive. She clung to Chie, sobbing as she begged over and over again.

Seeing this, Ikuma spoke up. “The detective on this case really opened up to me after I told him about you, Mitsuba. He knew he wasn’t supposed to, but he let me have this picture, and he also promised me he’d make a special exception in allowing a meeting.”

“Meaning …”

Ikuma flashed Chie a look, and Chie smile brightly. “Meaning yes, you can see her,” she replied. “Do you think now would be all right, Ikuma?”

“Hmm. Maybe? I mean the detective did say he wanted to see Mitsuba ASAP, so it’s probably all right?” Ikuma got out his cell phone and started typing away to check on that.

With Ikuma focusing on that, Chie moved on to the next matter at hand. “Mitsuba, we should use this opportunity to bail on this place and get ready to move someplace else.”

Mitsuba wiped her tears away. “Yeah,” she said with a nod before standing up.

Chie checked her computer one last time, but she didn’t have any new emails. “I hope this won’t take much longer,” she said, sighing as she slipped the laptop into her backpack and hefted it up.

Ikuma made an “OK” sign with his hand. “You’re good to go, Chie!”

“Mitsuba, your mother’s hospital is in the 8th Ward.”

“From here it’s maybe thirty or forty minutes by taxi,” Ikuma said.

“All right. Thank you so much!” Mitsuba said, bowing to both Chie and Ikuma.

Ikuma turned to Chie and nodded. “Ready to get going?”

When they turned toward the door, however, it was already open, and a man was standing there. “Going on a little picnic, are we? I’d be delighted if I could join you.”

“Ah, geez,” Chie muttered.

Ikuma’s face fell. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me …”

Over by the back window, Mitsuba gasped, only just now noticing the intruder, doubtless recognizing him from the picture Chie had shown her previously.

The picture of Shu Tsukiyama feeding on someone.

“So you were right under my nose this whole time. To think you’d be sneaking about in my own townhouse, Hori!” Tsukiyama stepped inside without bothering to slip off his shoes, the door behind him locking with a sharp click as he reached back for it. “But you’ve made a clear mistake in choosing the 23rd Ward, under heavy guard.”

Tsukiyama made grandiose, operatic gestures as he spoke. “You see, knowing you, Hori, I realized you’d probably hide someplace I’d have a hard time getting to. And what place fits the bill better than the 23rd Ward? After that, it was a simple matter of having my attendants do some searching.”

“Took you long enough, all things considered.”

“My master has been busy searching for Kamishiro, and I’ve been aiding him in that. But I finally found the time to swing by,” Tsukiyama said as he hungrily eyed Mitsuba like his prey. “Heh heh … Oh, I’ve longed to meet you, my sad little songstress! Have you been crying? I can see those charming eyes of yours wavering with tears.” He slowly crept closer and closer to Mitsuba.

“Ikuma, can you take Tsukiyama in a fight?” Chie asked.

“Nuh-uh, no way! Can an amateur boxer take on the heavyweight champ? Because that’s basically what you’re asking here!”

Someone had to do something, though, or the girl was as good as dead.

“I’ll replace your pearls of tears with rich rubies of blood … Oh, the very thought of it is just thrilling!” Tsukiyama shouted, his eyes now a flush crimson. He radiated an air of menace that made it hard to even breathe. Mitsuba slumped back onto the floor.

“I should thank you, Hori. This little ordeal you’ve made me go through has ratcheted my appetite up a tiny notch!” Tsukiyama’s Kagune coiled around his right arm like a slithering snake, soon taking on a knifelike shape, which he brandished at Mitsuba. “This is going to be the most fun I’ve had with a meal in a long time!”

No ordinary person—no ordinary Ghoul, even—would be able to bring themselves to take action in the face of such a threat.

Chie turned to Ikuma and snapped, “Ikuma, jump!”

“Oh, goddammit!” Spurred into action, Ikuma’s own eyes went red. Hefting Chie up over one shoulder, he then dove in next to Mitsuba. He yanked her in close with his free hand and, clutching her tight, leapt away from Tsukiyama—and right toward the window as he cried out, “This is why I hate my own peeeeeopplleeee!”

There was the piercing sound of shattering glass as he jumped right through the window, and the three of them began to plummet as gravity took over.

“Eeeeeeeek!”

“Whoa, this is aaaawesome!” Chie’s playful shout intermingled with Mitsuba’s terrified shriek.

Ikuma held the other two tightly and shouted, “Hold on tight!” His Kagune erupted through his skin around his shoulder blades and wrapped around his body in a spiral, reaching all the way down to his feet, where it took on a shape like a spring.

He grunted as his Kagune softened the impact of landing. It still hurt, but considering they’d just leapt from the top floor of an apartment building, it wasn’t too bad at all.

“Wow, you’re really good at carrying stuff!” Chie said.

“That’s why I work part time for a shipping company! But hey, this isn’t the time to joke around like that!”

Mitsuba seemed to have finally realized what Ikuma was. “I-Ikuma, are … are you a … ?”

“Sorry for not saying anything! I wasn’t trying to deceive you. For now, let’s just hope we can get away!” Ikuma quashed his Kagune and began running through the nighttime city streets. It was doubtful that Tsukiyama was just going to stand by and let them run off.

“You’re not getting away that easily!” he cried as he leapt gracefully from the window.

“Ikuma,” Chie asked, “how long can you hold out for us?”

“Well, I’m carrying two people, and I’ve got Tsukiyama of all people after me! I think if he wanted to, he could end this in the blink of an eye, but he’s probably having more fun toying with us right now.”

Clinging to Ikuma’s shoulder, Chie looked back to see Tsukiyama following them some distance behind. He’d stopped using his Kagune, but his eyes still smoldered a fierce red. What Chie felt on seeing that, however, wasn’t fear. “Wow, looking good, there, Tsukiyama!” A Ghoul running full-out with his eyes blazing amidst the darkness of night. Chie took up her camera and began to fire off shots as if she were smitten.

“Hey, look, check it out!” she said. “Tsukiyama makes for a good picture when he’s not talking!”

“Chie, I’d really appreciate if you could focus on the more immediate situation!” Ikuma protested. “I mean Tsukiyama might not kill you because he likes you and all, but Mitsuba and I are kinda marked for death here!” He kicked up into the air and leapt over a fence, weaving up and down and side to side for dear life.

“Huh? Hey, I’m pretty sure he’d kill me too, when it came down to it! Like I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t pass me up if he needed to eat, and he’s definitely not so fond of me that he wouldn’t sell me out to get something he wanted.”

“Oh, that is not want I wanted to hear! I mean if that’s the case for you, what’s that say for the rest of us?” There probably wasn’t much they could say or do in the face of such a fearsome foe. But that’s why the weak used weapons.

Weapons only they could wield.

Chie took out her smartphone and checked her email. “Ah!” There was one new message. She tried to hold the phone steady enough to read as she bumped and jostled about. “Yes! There it is!” she cried out, unable to resist doing a quick fist pump. “Ikuma, let’s get out of the 23rd Ward for now! If Ghoul investigators find us, someone like you is as good as dead!”

“Aha-hah. That’d be really sad if it weren’t also so true! Okay, which way?”

“Same as the original plan: to the 8th Ward hospital!”

“Got it!” Ikuma said, picking up speed.

As if sensing that something about their situation had changed, the look on Tsukiyama’s face shifted as well. “Oh, he looks so cool right now,” Chie muttered. “I wish I had a better angle!” She lined Tsukiyama up in her viewfinder and clicked the shutter.

Ikuma was looking understandably tired. They’d chosen a more secluded area, leapt up onto the rooftops, and kept running. Caught up in her emailing back and forth, Chie snapped back to attention as Ikuma uttered a panicked, “Uh-oh!”

Tsukiyama had closed a good chunk of the distance in one go. “Looks like it’s just about checkmate!” He’d once again manifested his Kagune, his sights set directly on them.

“Sorry about this!” Ikuma said as he hurled Chie and Mitsuba into a shrub with slender, leafy branches. He crossed his now-free arms and attempted to form a shield from his kagune, but he couldn’t keep up with Tsukiyama’s movements.

“You weakling!”

“Agh!” Ikuma was knocked back by Tsukiyama’s Kagune and slammed hard into a tree. Leaves scattered about, and a group of birds that had been resting in the branches fluttered off en masse.

“Now, then …” Tsukiyama fixed his red eyes on Mitsuba.

Ikuma managed to get back to his feet and tried to shield her, but Chie said, “It’s all right, Ikuma,” as she tugged her snagged clothing free of some branches and stood up.

She then faced Tsukiyama, set on trying to deal with him one final time. “Tsukiyama, I already told you, there are pictures I want to get of Mitsuba.”

Tsukiyama set a hand against his chest. “Ah, Hori, my friend. We’ve known each other only a short time, but your feelings reach me so well it almost pains me! I would love to be able to grant your wish,” he declared. “But I’ve been soft enough on you already!” His eyes showed not even a shadow of hesitation.

Mitsuba was visibly flustered, and Ikuma’s cheeks were drawn back, but Chie couldn’t really disagree with Tsukiyama’s assertion, and the look on her face showed it.

“My desires need to come first. My gourmet palate needs to come first! So you’ll just have to deal with that and let me fill my empty stomach. It’s my God-given right!” Tsukiyama stuck a hand out to brush Chie aside. Compared to Ghouls, humans really were quite powerless. “I’ll treat you to cheesecake sometime, my little mouse.”

But Chie still had her secret weapon. “I’m not interested in cake right now!” She took the smartphone she’d been fiddling with earlier and held it up for him to look at it. “I know you too well, Tsukiyama.”

Tsukiyama went stock-still, the text on the phone screen reflected in his eyes—a word that held a very special meaning for him.

“Kaneki”

Chie opened the email she’d gotten from him.

“Found it.”

There was a sudden whoosh through the air. Tsukiyama leapt quickly back as a new presence cast its shadow where he’d stood a moment before.

His white hair fluttered, the mask on his face leaving one strangely colored eye visible. Tsukiyama looked at him, flabbergasted.

“K-Kaneki?!”

It was none other than Ken Kaneki, whom Tsukiyama had set his sights on for so long.

Ikuma, a fellow resident of the 20th Ward, was clearly puzzled. “Huh? Kaneki?” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Chie got in contact with me. She said she had some photos I was looking for, in exchange for my doing her a favor.”

“You want … pictures?”

“Yes. Ones necessary for my development, and which will demonstrate the atrocity of Ghouls even if I wind up getting killed,” Kaneki said. Tsukiyama eyed him keenly.

“And in my quest to get interesting photos, I’ve got a lot of pictures of Ghouls!” Chie said. She had sold several such photos of Ghouls to Kaneki before.

“Recently, I was able to have a little ‘chat’ with one of these individuals and got some very helpful information, so I thought it only fair to come and hear out Chie’s request,” Kaneki said, glancing down at Chie with a warm smile. “Whatever you need, just ask.”