Photos

Let it be known to the world. I am Shu Tsukiyama, the Gourmet.

All of this happened a few years before Kaneki had that run-in with Rize. He was still going through his life as a human, still living under the delusion that the world was peaceful. But there were already Ghouls on the streets.

On a night the moon shone brightly, I had one prey I was targeting. My favorite part was the calves. This man, whose daily routine after work included preparing for a marathon, had apparently run the big one in Hakone in the past.

But he had no legs to run on anymore. He’d noticed someone suspicious behind him, and the sight of him trying to run as hard as he could was beautiful. But I’m a Ghoul—I’d chase after a baby if it was dinnertime.

“Muscles that dance across the earth … and perfect proportions, too. At this moment, I must give my thanks to you for continuing your healthy lifestyle so I could devour you!”

In the middle of the completely deserted park, the man who had lost both of his legs lay basking in a sea of his own blood, in shock and losing consciousness.

How sad that he didn’t put up much of a fight. But in my hand I held his leg, which couldn’t have stimulated my appetite any more.

“Don’t worry, this is the main dish. And thanks for doing all the prep work for me. I think I should partake before you get near to death!”

Ecstasy flashed over Tsukiyama’s face as he began to lick up the blood from the man’s severed lower leg.

To be called a boy suggests that one’s body is supple and still growing; to be called a youth suggests some innocence still remains. His eyes, red as a pomegranate, emphasized that he was something grotesque, though he exuded a bewitching charm.

Tsukiyama was sixteen years old.

When the sun reigned over the world, he worked hard at his studies just like any other “normal high schooler,” but the truth was that he was a Ghoul.

It was a life he chose, the one he should have chosen. And then to make himself even better he had to be into gastronomy.

“May this meal make me even more radiant!”

Tsukiyama opened his mouth wide enough to distort his beautiful face, ready to sink his teeth into the man’s powerful calf.

And that is precisely when it happened.

A dazzling flash, like a bolt of lightning. Then the loud snap of a camera shutter. Tearing off the man’s flesh with his teeth, Tsukiyama looked around for the source of the light and sound. But before he could get his bearings, a voice boomed out unexpectedly.

“Allriiiiiight, got the photooooooo!”

In one hand was a digital SLR camera; the other hand was held up to the starry sky. And below this raised fist was a girl—no more than twelve years old, judging by her appearance.

His attention was pulled away from his meal to the girl, the flesh he was eating passing down his throat half-chewed. The second he gulped Tsukiyama came back to his senses. He began to shake with anger.

“You interrupted me!”

He had barely tasted the dinner he’d gulped down. The girl bounced happily, like the pure embodiment of joy, with absolutely no clue what she’d done.

“That was my first bite too!”

Tsukiyama tossed aside the man’s leg and kicked the ground. The impact was enough to leave a hole. He went straight at the girl, teeth bared and ready to take her life. Add another body to the count—or not.

“Agh!”

The girl stooped slightly, ducking behind something—the playground slide.

As Tsukiyama’s fist destroyed one of the poles of the slide, the girl shouted, “Wow!” with an admiration suggesting she did not understand the seriousness of the situation, then ran away at full speed. The backpack she was wearing swung from side to side as she ran.

Who manages to escape from Shu Tsukiyama? Is she a Ghoul or an investigator? But she didn’t smell like a Ghoul, and she didn’t have a Quinque, those weapons the humans use against us. She smelled like a human—like any old human.

The girl ran off without any hesitation, as if she were familiar with the geography of the area. She seems much faster than the guy who was meant to be my dinner. Tsukiyama chased her as she ran down the narrow streets, blowing right past people’s houses and making wild movements in every direction.

Tsukiyama used some boxes he happened to find outside a storefront as a platform to leap from, then grabbed on to the foothold spikes on a utility pole, swung back like a gymnast on the horizontal bar and leapt to the top of the building, all in one move.

“You little—! Get back here, you scampering devil of a mouse!”

This bizarre late-night chase through the slumbering streets, the thudding weight of their footsteps. Even if he couldn’t see her he could sense her. And then there’s my exceptional sense of smell.

Before long, the girl stopped in a narrow alley. The chase was over. Tsukiyama leapt down from the rooftop, landing a short distance from the girl.

The girl was sitting on the ground with her back to him, her little body moving slightly. Looks like she’s shaking with fear.

Tsukiyama again observed the girl’s appearance. She had a small frame and simply cut black hair. And she somehow resembled a hamster—although perhaps that was because she was sitting with her back hunched.

He looked at her in admiration, wondering how there could be a human that held so little fascination for him, with a body that provoked a surprising lack of his interest.

But the crime of interrupting Shu Tsukiyama while he was eating had consequences. How would he take out his anger? He started walking toward the girl as he pondered this.

“Ta-dah!”

But that’s when the girl turned around. She really doesn’t get what she’s in for. Her joyful smile stood out in the darkness. He didn’t know what she was thinking, and for a moment he was unsure of what to do.

Then the girl yelled proudly, “Look, they’re really cool!”

She had a laptop open. And all over the screen was—

“Is that me?!”

—me, taking a bite of my prey’s flesh.

“Oof,” the girl said and stood up, then peered at his face.

“You’re Shu Tsukiyama, aren’t you?”

To his greater shock, she knew his name.

Who is this hamster?

The threat level of the girl he was face-to-face with suddenly skyrocketed. Tsukiyama was on guard.

The girl took something out of her backpack.

“Here, look!”

Without hesitation, she showed Tsukiyama a student ID from Seinan Gakuin University’s high school, where he also went. The card had a photo of her face and the name Chie Hori on it.

“Chie … Hori?”

“You can call me Chiehori.”

Chiehori put her student ID away and with a carefree smile she said, “God, all that running’s got me wanting something sweet!”

It was late but they found a café that was open. Chiehori sat across from Tsukiyama, eating an extra-large parfait at top speed. Her greediness, as if she has not eaten in days, is unbearably crass.

“Can you not eat in a more ladylike fashion, you filthy little rodent?”

Tsukiyama snatched up his coffee cup in irritation. “Well, I’m not a lady,” she shot back. Certainly, from her appearance she couldn’t be any further from being a lady.

She finished up her parfait quickly and drank all of her juice. Then, finally, Chiehori started to talk. “I just knew I’d find something newsworthy about you!”

Newsworthy. Does that mean she’s going to try to sell a story about me somewhere, or is she going to blackmail me?

She flicked through the photos on her camera. “So I just had to keep lying in wait. And then, bingo! Couldn’t be happier,” she said, blithely going on about her achievement.

Is she toying with me here? Tsukiyama set his coffee down on its saucer. “What are you aiming at?” he asked. Chiehori tilted her head.

“Aiming at? I already got it.”

“Excusez moi?”

“I got it. See?” she said, shaking the camera up and down. “I was following you because I wanted to take some great photos. And they turned out better than I expected. So I got what I was aiming for.”

“That’s not all, though, is it? Getting the definitive scoop on me falls well outside the realm of a personal hobby!”

“Oh, do you want to be exposed? Because I can do that in a heartbeat.”

Chiehori started taking her laptop out of her backpack.

“Non, non … Calm down now, my little friend.”

“Oh, so which is it?” she grumbled. Nevertheless, she obediently set her backpack aside.

Still, how can she be so calm in front of me, a Ghoul, when she just saw me eating a human leg a little while ago? She nonchalantly took photos of what is, to a human, an inhumanly brutal, predatory scene.

What is it at the root of her mentality? Could she be some kind of extraordinary predator herself? Like the saying goes, a skilled hawk hides its talons. She was able to take a photograph of me at the most crucial moment without me noticing, so it’s conceivable. I could understand easier if that were the case.

“Is it that the act of taking photos is something sublime for you? Enough that you don’t care if you lose your life over it?” Tsukiyama asked her, taking a new approach. If you asked most humans about their passion in life, they would happily tell you all about it. And maybe Ghouls aren’t so different.

“It’s nothing that involved. I don’t want to die over it.”

Chiehori seemed like she’d lost interest in talking; she jiggled her leg up and down. She gave absolutely no indication that she’d eat him.

“I don’t understand—so why did you do it?”

“Hm?”

Chiehori had a distant look on her eyes. For a while she was silent. Fine, I’ll wait. However trivial her explanation, it would be a step toward understanding and uncovering the essence of her unconscious.

“Oh, I’m really sleepy now.”

But her answer was rather disappointing. Chiehori stood up, rubbing her eyes with her hands and yawning uncouthly.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to show the photos to anyone. I value my life too much for that. Thanks for the parfait. See you,” she said. And with that she slung her backpack over her shoulders and turned briskly to walk off.

“Wait, you little rat!”

She did not listen to Tsukiyama’s attempt to halt her, and in the end she pushed the check over to Tsukiyama and left the café.

“Santo cielo! Are you trying to test me here?”

Left on his own now, Tsukiyama ordered another coffee and lost himself in thought.

It would be easy to kill her. But it would be too rash to kill her without understanding nearly anything about her, and there is the possibility that this is some kind of trap to simply get me to bare my fangs and hit me with some unthinkable retaliation in return.

At the same time, a gentle voice echoed in Tsukiyama’s mind.

“Tsukiyama, you ought to take a bit more care.”

The voice belonged to the manager of Anteiku, Yoshimura. When he’d dropped into the café the other day, Yoshimura had given him those words of warning.

I told him then that I had no blind spots, that there was no need to worry about me.

“Mr. Yoshimura, were you talking about that little mouse?”

Because of this he couldn’t make light of the danger. Tsukiyama tapped his fingernails against the coffee cup.

II

The prestigious high school was affiliated with Seinan Gakuin University. With an academic policy of respecting the independence and creativity of students, enhancing their value as individuals, and improving their capabilities, the school’s selling point was not just its record of high test results—it was also a celebrity school, with many of its enrolled students coming from wealthy families.

“Good morning, Tsukiyama.”

“You’re looking very cheerful this morning.”

“Oh, good morning, you charming girls. You sound just like angels today.”

He had a beautiful way with words, and an elegant, pleasant way of speaking. Tsukiyama gave smiles to everyone, including the well-mannered girls who’d been pampered since birth.

“Charming …”

“I hear that a lot.”

But because, unlike the elementary and middle schools affiliated with the university, the high school had many more students from the general population, there were more than a few ill-mannered students as well. Tsukiyama set his sights on the students gossiping in the back corner of the classroom.

“All I said was the same thing everyone thinks about those girls, though. I mean, don’t get your feelings all hurt every time someone doesn’t praise you from the bottom of their heart …”

If Tsukiyama narrowed his eyes as if to say, “You sure about that?” they would be pulled into the unique atmosphere that Tsukiyama had and sink into silence. The weak are no match for the strong, even when the strong don’t show their claws.

“Oops, on another subject …”

Tsukiyama left the classroom and headed toward his next two classes. Since his person of interest was not at school yet, he propped himself up against the wall in the hallway, arms crossed, and waited for about ten minutes.

“Bingo.”

The noisy clip-clop of footsteps reached Tsukiyama’s ears. It was Chiehori, the girl who had caught him in the act on camera last night. She had her camera hanging around her neck, and her nonregulation backpack slung over her shoulders.

Tsukiyama stepped away from the wall and turned to face her. She took a moment to recognize him.

But all she said was, “Morning!” before going into the classroom. Does this mean that what she said last night was true—that she got what she wanted and didn’t want anything else to do with me?

No, can’t let my guard down yet. She knows my secret now, after all.

From that day on Tsukiyama regarded Chiehori with extreme caution.

“Oh, you mean Chie? I don’t know how else to put it—she’s a legendary weirdo. Even at this school.”

Everyone he asked about her said the same thing: obsessed with photography, bizarrely unconcerned with social norms.

He had never noticed her before, but now that he had, he saw that she was restlessly energetic, always chasing after bugs in the courtyard during break or climbing a tree after school to take pictures of the sky.

“Chie’s at it again.”

“Where’s she find the energy?”

As the whispered conversation reached his ears, Tsukiyama also heard Chiehori’s footsteps. They beat out an unhesitant staccato. How much energy does she have?

“There you are.”

Then Tsukiyama heard another set of footsteps approaching.

“Mr. Tsukiyama, may I have a word with you?”

His homeroom teacher, Ms. Matsumae, had just appeared in the classroom. It was break time. Tsukiyama said yes and stepped into the hallway.

“Shall I take care of her for you, sir?”

She said it quietly, so that nobody around them would hear. Tsukiyama shook his head quietly in admonishment.

“Matsumae … Thank you for caring about me, but this is my problem. If I can overcome this, I feel like I’ll be able to apply what I learn to bigger problems too. I have to take care of this myself.”

Matsumae was an employee of the Tsukiyama family. Naturally, she was also a Ghoul.

“Shu, sir, I was acting presumptuously out of too much concern for you. I am full of shame now.”

“No, it’s fine. You expressed your feelings well enough. There is something you could do for me, though—could you check into her for me?”

Matsumae nodded reverently.

“Yes, sir. Chie Hori is from a very normal, average family. Her test results were good and she received a scholarship to attend this school, but since she was admitted her grades have been inconsistent, and at times this poses difficulties regarding her scholarship.”

Seems she’s not serious about studying. So then why’d she choose this school? Just as Tsukiyama wondered this, Matsumae added, with perfect timing, “The reason she gave for applying to this school is that it was the closest to her house. Anyway, she has since maintained her grades at the level needed to continue to receive her scholarship, but as you know, her only passion is photography. She’s not in any clubs or on any teams, but the photography club advisor has seen her photographs, and she said that while some of Chie’s pictures are as bad as if a child took them, some of them are almost miraculous and don’t seem like they could have been taken by an amateur.”

So just like with school, she’s inconsistent when it comes to photography. Like a guinea pig skittering around without a purpose.

“I also teach her class sometimes, and my honest impression of her is that she is hard to pin down. She doesn’t study hard enough to call her serious, and her behavior is not bad enough to call her unserious.”

“It’s hard to tell the difference between a fool and a wise man. Just like the zero card of the tarot deck, The Fool.”

“I have not been very helpful. My apologies, sir.”

“No, it’s fine. If there’s anything else, let me know.”

“As you wish, sir.”

It seemed like he would not be able to deal with this by ordinary means. Nonetheless, the more he looked into this girl he hadn’t known at all until now, the more mysterious she became. Perhaps I need to improve my understanding of people.

Tsukiyama had gone back into the classroom and sat in his seat when the girl who sat next to him asked, “Did something happen?” She had silky, beautiful black hair and intellectual eyes. But within those eyes shone a dazzling glint of passion, contradicting first impressions.

“Miss Ikaru. Were you listening in?”

“You two were talking so loud it’s more like you made me listen. What happened with Chie?”

An ordinary person could not have heard their whispering in the hallway from inside the classroom, filled with the buzz of break time. But as to whether she was a Ghoul, that was another story.

Ghouls lurk in everyday life. Ikaru was also excellent at fitting into human society. Some were remarkably good, having the right attitude and taking the effort needed to hide their identity and blend in with humans.

“What happened is, she took a picture of me while I was feeding.”

“No way.”

“Idiot me … Really.”

Tsukiyama shrugged and shook his head in disbelief at himself. She frowned.

“Why haven’t you killed her?”

“I haven’t figured her out yet.”

“Well, you’re taking your sweet time about it,” she murmured, sounding astonished. Just then, Chiehori came in from the hallway. The two of them observed her.

“I wasn’t aware of her because I took no interest in her, but that little mouse is pretty famous at this school for being a weirdo.”

“You’re pretty famous here too, you know, for being the heir of the venerable, noble Tsukiyama family. For having great powers of influence due to strong friendships in the political and business worlds. It was your grandfather’s generation that built up huge amounts of assets, wasn’t it?”

“My grandfather was also an adventurer. He made his fortune by importing and exporting ‘curiosities’ from all over the world. I’m very proud of him,” Tsukiyama said, putting his hand to his chest to show his respect.

“On top of that, you yourself are an accomplished student and your beauty is comparable to a model. And yet, your behavior is strange … bizarre. Terrible but eye-catching. And you and all of your family have, until now, been able to stand out without being caught. I can’t help but admire you.”

Just then, Chiehori dashed in from the hallway again. They stopped talking, and both of them turned their eyes toward her.

“But really, she’s so animated that I can’t believe you hadn’t noticed her until now. I guess she didn’t meet your standards.”

Also, she had a monotonous, uninteresting smell, like the part of your index finger that never moves, and an utterly charmless, childlike body type. He must’ve unconsciously excluded her from his list of gastronomic interests.

“Still, it’s strange, isn’t it? She has no financial means to speak of, but still she has a good camera with a high-spec lens. That’s top-of-the-line.”

Tsukiyama was unfamiliar with the financial limitations of common people, but he assumed that kind of gear would be too expensive a gift for her parents to give. She didn’t seem to have an after-school job. How did she get her hands on that camera?

“Apparently she uploads her pictures to the internet as stock photos.”

“Stock photos?”

“Yeah. Like you get money if they’re used for commercial purposes. But primary-source photos have an even higher value.”

Did she really have the knowledge to do that? Tsukiyama found himself becoming interested in a girl he had been indifferent to, little by little. But he couldn’t forget she was the girl who knew his secret.

And now, is the game afoot?

Watching as Chiehori ran out into the hallway for the third time, Tsukiyama’s smile intensified.

After school that day, he found her belly-crawling across the school lawn. He approached and tried to see just what on earth she was looking at, but he saw nothing but grass. Only the clicking of her camera shutter going off could be heard.

“What are you shooting, little mouse?”

“I found one.”

Chiehori turned toward Tsukiyama and stood up like a shot.

“Check it out,” she said. She fiddled with the camera, then showed him the picture she’d taken.

“I beg your pardon, but all I can see is the grass.”

“Well, yeah. The picture’s of the grass.”

“Why? Grass is so boring.”

It was hard to reconcile the idea that the same girl could take shocking pictures of a Ghoul midfeast and also take pictures of some entirely uninteresting grass. The difference couldn’t have been starker. But Chiehori seemed content.

I shouldn’t have said that.

“Wait, now that I really look at it, it’s not bad. Every blade of grass is bathed in a prism of light, and each one has this emerald glow … It’s really interesting.”

I can’t afford to offend her now, Tsukiyama thought as he retracted his previous statement and praised her.

“Oh, really? I think it’s boring, personally,” Chiehori said. God, this girl just does not behave how I expect.

“My apologies,” Tsukiyama said, breaking the silence. “Actually, there’s somewhere I’d like to take you now. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tsukiyama searched her face discreetly as he spoke the words carefully. She is a slippery one, but this is my chance to get her.

“It’s somewhere I’m sure you’ll like—”

“Great,” she answered readily, before he’d even put the bait on the hook. Tsukiyama was slightly taken aback. She fumbled with her camera.

“Sounds fun.”

Perhaps her “sense of smell” is sharper than I thought.

III

He took Chiehori to the college hospital not far from the school.

“What’s wrong, Tsukiyama?”

Chiehori raced around the grounds of the hospital without a pause, taking pictures of the building’s exterior and the landscaping. Tsukiyama started speaking.

“There’s something I want to tell you first,” he said. “It’s that I really like humans.”

“So much that you eat them.”

“Even if that’s not my aim, is what I mean. People live their lives without claws or fangs, but still, humans have prospered on the earth. What drives them, I wonder—and what’s at the heart of it?”

“But then you eat people.”

“Even though I eat people.”

The two of them entered the hospital, got on the elevator, and selected the floor for the general ward.

“Are you sure we can just waltz into the hospital like this?” Chiehori asked nonchalantly. The two of them were alone in the elevator.

“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve taken everything into account.”

They arrived at the eighth floor. On that floor there was an atrium as well as the ward. In this restful space, covered with grass and dotted with verdant trees, patients at the hospital and their families sat chatting in a peaceful atmosphere.

“Here we are,” Tsukiyama said, casting a glance at the nurses’ station. There were several nurses on duty behind the desk, and of those, one young female nurse had noticed Tsukiyama and Chiehori and was heading over to them.

“Oh, Tsukiyama, you came back? And you brought … Oh, I see, you go to Seinan, too,” the nurse said, unable to hide a smile befitting such an angel in a white uniform. She seemed surprised that Chiehori, who looked nothing like a high school student, was wearing a Seinan uniform.

“This is my friend,” Tsukiyama said.

“We’re friends now?”

“When you share a secret with someone, that makes you friends,” said Tsukiyama.

“Sounds suspicious if you ask me,” teased the nurse. She didn’t seem to really mean it. After all, the two of them were quite a mismatch.

Next, Tsukiyama introduced her to Chiehori.

“There’s a lot of greenery at this hospital, as you can see. It’s a pleasant place, so I was sitting on a bench on the grounds reading when she came over to talk to me. She has a very kind, polite manner, and she’s very popular with the patients. And as you can see, she never can hide her beautiful smile either.”

“Oh no, don’t exaggerate.” The nurse blushed with embarrassment. But Tsukiyama turned to her and continued.

“It’s just … love can be so painful.”

“E-excuse me?!”

Tsukiyama clasped his hands to his chest and shook his head exaggeratedly, as if he were suffering over an impossible love.

“The doctor I’m in love with hardly looks my way. But if I got the chance I know we’d hit it off,” he imitated her. Then he said, “There’s not a man alive who wouldn’t fall for your smile.”

The nurse became flustered at having her innermost thoughts exposed, but she gave a wry smile at his last statement. “I hope so,” she said.

Just then, someone appeared behind her.

“Chatting away with a young man, I see!” boomed a loud voice. It belonged to a male patient who seemed to be over ninety. He had emerged from his room behind them. His face was etched with countless wrinkles and his hairline was receding. He embraced the nurse from behind.

“Aah! Don’t do that ever again!” she warned, turning around to face the patient clinging to her.

“Hm?”

At that moment, for some reason, Chiehori clicked the shutter.

I get it.

The old man let go of her and headed back toward his room with a grin on his face. With a pained smile, the nurse said, “I’m going to see him back to his room. Goodbye,” and went off. As the two of them watched her go, Tsukiyama gave Chiehori an explanation.

“That old man has been hospitalized for a heart condition, but sometimes he wanders off or does things like that, harassing the young nurses. And he forgets what he’s done right away, so he doesn’t feel any sense of shame.”

But he also forgets the kindnesses people do for him. Forgetfulness is always with him.

“But he’s a wealthy man, and he has relatives who are professors who work in this university hospital, so no one can say much to him.”

Chiehori had her head down, checking her digital camera’s display, and had not heard a word of Tsukiyama’s story. She did everything at her own pace, and he couldn’t hate her for it.

Tsukiyama leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“I’d like to invite you to a dinner theater tomorrow night.”

She reacted with surprise and looked up at him.

“But you’ll have to get the tickets yourself. Tomorrow night, around midnight, I’m going to sneak into that old man’s room. I’ll leave the window open for you. You should be able to get some marvelous photos.”

This was the bait. He wanted her to imagine what might happen all she liked. And then he wanted her little chest to pound with excitement.

He waited for her answer. Finally, she let the camera go and nodded. “Got it,” she said.

Should be a fun dinner.

Tsukiyama’s lips curled into a smile.

IV

At seven thirty, when the sun had set, Chiehori went to the college hospital alone. It was the day she’d promised to meet Tsukiyama.

She’d come much earlier than they’d agreed, but with reason. Common sense said it would be impossible to sneak into a hospital at midnight. The doors would be locked and security would be there. So she pretended to be visiting a patient and entered the hospital first.

Right away she headed for the women’s restroom. Once she was inside the stall, she took a pair of pajamas out of her backpack and changed into them. She stuffed the clothes she had been wearing into her bag, put her camera around her neck, and pressed the shutter button.

Now to find somewhere to stash my bag. Chiehori headed toward the hospital’s courtyard. There she found a row of azalea trees along a path. Staying out of the lights nearby, she put her backpack behind one of the trees that the light didn’t reach. She walked a few steps away to check. Her bag was nicely hidden and not visible thanks to the darkness.

“Oh.”

Just then, she heard the chimes of the hospital’s intercom system.

“This is an announcement for all visitors. Hospital visiting hours will be over shortly …”

Visiting hours ended at eight. People who had come to visit patients and had heard the announcement began to stream out of the hospital. A large number of patients stood at the door to see off their friends and family members.

Chiehori stood by the door for a while, idly watching the spectacle. She couldn’t help imagining that everyone thought she was sad because her parents had gone home, since she looked no older than a middle schooler.

“Visiting hours are now over.”

Shortly after the final announcement, the doors were locked. Chiehori slipped into the crowd of patients returning to their rooms and went into the hospital. There were over a thousand patients at this hospital. But there was also a high turnover of patients, and there was no way that staff would remember every one of them.

As she walked in she passed by doctors and nurses, but none of them, seeing her walk with such confidence, had the slightest suspicion.

“Well, here we go.”

She arrived at the general ward on the eighth floor. From here on, she was out of her element.

Unlike outpatient doctors and nurses, ward nurses would know most of the patients on the floor they were responsible for. What’s more, most of the patients in the ward were elderly. Someone with the appearance of a child wandering around the ward would stand out and be noticed without a doubt.

Chiehori went into the restroom again so as not to be spotted by the night shift nurse. Then she put the toilet seat down, had a seat, and waited for a while. The ward was still noisy, and she could hear the sound of people’s footsteps. Occasionally a patient came into the bathroom, but there were enough stalls available that nobody minded that one had been in use for a long time.

She passed the time by flicking through the pictures she had taken on her camera. There were the pictures she’d taken the day before at the hospital, as well as the ones of Tsukiyama eating someone.

“Whoa.”

Has it been close to an hour yet? Classical music began to play over the speakers on the ward. Chiehori looked up.

She checked the time. It was nine o’clock, lights out.

The song finished, and the lights on the ward went out one by one. The light in the hallway facing the bathroom Chiehori was in went out as well. There was almost no sign of anyone.

She decided to stay in the bathroom for a while longer, finally emerging half an hour later. Treading lightly, she looked into the hallway and saw no one there. Some small lamps were still on in rooms here and there, where the patients must have still been awake. She took off her shoes and carried them in her hands so as not to make a sound as she walked down the hallway.

The nurses’ station was in the middle of the floor. She took a quick peek and saw two or three nurses behind the desk. In order not to be seen she ducked down and passed by slowly. The nurses on the night shift had their hands full, and they did not notice Chiehori at all.

“Here it is.”

Finally she had made it to a private room in a corner of the floor. It was the room of the old man she had seen yesterday. She put her ear to the door to listen to what was going on and heard loud, persistent snoring. Quietly, Chiehori slid the door open.

As she did, a soft, sweet smell reached her from inside. The smell was rather strong. Is that perfume? With the lights off it was hard for her to get a feel for the room. Once inside, she proceeded with more caution than ever before.

“Oh, he’s sleeping.”

The curtains were drawn, and there was a large bed next to the window. In that bed slept the old man who had sexually harassed the nurse the day before. She waved her hand in front of his eyes. The old man did not notice.

“Hello in there …” she said quietly. The old man still did not wake up, so next she tried gently poking his cheek.

“He’s not waking up.”

He seemed to be in a very deep sleep. Maybe he’s on sleeping pills. If so he simply won’t wake up. Chiehori’s tension eased and she looked around the room anew.

“Wowww.”

Could you even call this a hospital room? The interior was spacious and equipped with not just its own toilet, but also a shower. There was also a sofa and table, as well as a refrigerator, making it nicer than many hotel rooms.

She sat on the sofa and looked at the old man. He must be as rich as Tsukiyama said if he has a private room this nice. On the shelf, as if it were a display of power, were all kinds of gorgeous flowers, boxes of candy, and fruit baskets—probably gifts.

She stood up and looked at the fruit on the shelf. It seemed to be the source of the sweet smell filling the room. She picked up a mango, probably the most expensive thing there. The fragrant smell became even more intense. Wondering why, she turned it over in her hands and found that the other side was damaged and discolored.

“Hmm …”

No matter how many visitors brought gifts to him, there was likely nobody to help the old man eat what he was brought. It didn’t look like the fruit knife sitting nearby had been used at all. Chiehori sat back down on the sofa and looked at the pictures she had taken of the old man the day before.

“Must be time soon.”

She checked her watch. It was 11:55, not long before the time she’d agreed upon with Tsukiyama. Chiehori stretched her back and lay on the sofa on her side. Moonlight was coming in through a gap in the curtain.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps in the hallway. Her eyes popped open and she listened carefully.

The footsteps went down the quiet hallway, entered a room, went back into the hallway, and entered another room repeatedly. It sounded like a nurse doing the rounds.

That means someone’s going to come in here, where I am.

She hesitated.

Chiehori looked around the room for somewhere to hide. She debated if it was acceptable to hide in the bathroom or shower. But the nurse’s footsteps kept coming closer.

“Gotta do what you gotta do.”

Taking advantage of her small body, she dove under the bed. A few seconds later, the door opened and a flashlight illuminated the room. If it is the nurse doing her rounds she’ll check on the man and then leave quickly. To her surprise, though, the nurse closed the door and moved, not toward the bed where the old man slept, but in the direction of the shelves. And stayed there.

What on earth is she doing?

As Chiehori wondered this, she heard the sound of paper rustling. Then she heard the sound of someone chewing something.

It’s the candy.

This nurse seemingly felt free to eat her patients’ gifts. She went to the old man’s bedside as she ate his sweets. Chiehori could see the nurse’s shoes from where she was hiding under the bed. They were cute, professional shoes, and somehow feminine.

Then there was a knock at the door. I bet she’s still got crumbs all over her hands, Chiehori thought.

“Still kicking in there?”

Chiehori heard another sound, different from the one she’d heard before. It was the sound of something heavy hitting against something.

“Look, I can’t move on to the next room until I get a reaction to confirm he’s still alive.”

Her voice was cold and haughty. Chiehori heard that heavy sound again.

She’s hitting the old man, Chiehori guessed.

The old man groaned in pain. But the nurse did not stop.

“Looks like you’re still with us. Ugh. What’s the point? You’d be better off dead. Everybody thinks so too. What are you living for? It’s disgusting. Just die, please, for everyone’s sake, just die,” the nurse spat out at the old man. But Chiehori’s reaction was more to the voice than to the content. It was a voice she’d heard before.

The room echoed with the sound of her hitting the old man. Then she heard a huge crash.

“An angel in a white uniform indeed.” The voice, a man’s voice, belonged to Tsukiyama.

“W-what? Who’s there?”

Surprised by the sudden intruder, the nurse tripped over her own feet and fell. Chiehori, hiding under the bed, saw her face then.

It was the nurse from the day before.

“Oh, why are you—Tsukiyama? Wait a minute, this is the eighth floor!”

“My apologies, I seem to have broken the window. I told her I’d open the window but my little mouse seems to have been fickle.”

Tsukiyama jumped down into the room lightly. Chiehori also crawled out from under the bed.

“Oh, you’re the girl who was with him yesterday … What is all this? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “So, little mouse, why don’t you tell me all about it—the way she does her work? She’s always doing this night after night, heaping abuse on patients she doesn’t like.”

Tsukiyama pointed at the nurse as if he were pointing her out to Chiehori. The nurse didn’t seem to grasp the situation very well, but she seemed to understand that this was turning into the worst possible situation for her. She began to shake with fear.

Keeping his eyes on the nurse, Tsukiyama pulled the covers off the bed, exposing the old man’s body where he lay.

“He has signs of internal hemorrhaging.”

The nurse shuddered.

“But like how he forgets what he’s done, he also forgets what others do to him. He has no idea how he gets hurt—he can’t remember. So everyone thinks it’s his fault, that he’s hurt himself somehow, and nobody takes the matter any further. What a great storyline—I mean, really splendid, bravo!”

Tsukiyama turned to the nurse and applauded. After the final clap, when his hands stopped moving, he slowly opened them and then picked up the part of the man’s body that showed internal hemorrhaging with his fingertips. Tsukiyama gave a first-class smile.

“Well, now, it’s dinnertime.”

There was a ripping sound in the room, the sound of something being torn. Between Tsukiyama’s fingers was the old man’s skin.

The nurse screamed in spasmodic fear.

“The skin of the elderly is a delicacy, I’ve been told. It has a unique smell and texture that’s very addictive to some.”

Tsukiyama slowly lowered the old man’s skin onto his tongue. To better savor the taste, he closed his eyes and brought it into his mouth as if he were licking it, rolling his tongue slowly. Then, he chewed with consideration. Once he had swallowed, he opened his eyes wide.

“The conflicting tactile sensations of the nicely dry and rough skin and its reverse side, smooth and slick with blood, paired with the unique astringency that buzzes on the tongue all come together in an incredible harmonyyyyyy!”

He opened his arms wide and twisted his body toward the heavens. His eyes were dark, dark crimson.

“N-n-n-no way …”

His red eyes—his kakugan—blazed.

“Wh … what happened? I’m hurt, I’m hurt!”

Just then the old man, lying on his side on the bed, opened his eyes. The pain had finally broken through to his mind. Tsukiyama licked his lips and turned to the old man gleefully.

“Men have a shorter average life span than women, and there are especially few men in their nineties around. Men of your vintage are very rare!”

Again, Tsukiyama pinched the man’s skin. And then he tore it off.

He screamed in agony.

“The flaky texture of the skin is just like powder! A most exquisite delicacy!”

“Stop, please stop …” the old man stuttered out.

“It’s so nice to eat because it comes off so easily! And the process really enhances the experience!”

Tsukiyama was now rapidly tearing off chunks of the man’s skin. The nurse could not move an inch. Somehow she managed to squeeze out a few words, her voice quivering.

“Tsukiyama, you’re … you’re … . Ghoul?”

He gulped down a piece of skin before answering.

“Heh, I’m a gourmet! I seek out the ultimate in eating experiences!”

In his panic the old man rolled away and fell out of the bed. He tried to crawl on his hands and knees across the floor, reaching out for the nurse.

“H-help! Help me!”

Tsukiyama had picked off the skin on his outstretched hand, and his sinewy muscles were visible.

“Help me, I’ll do whatever you want, or give you whatever you want. I’ve got money, I’ve got land … Please, I beg you …”

The old man begged in hope of salvation, tears spilling to the ground. His thin arms were like dead trees. His hand struggled into the nurse’s line of sight.

The nurse swallowed hard and gritted her teeth.

“Go away, old geezer!”

With all of her might, she kicked the old man where he lay on the floor.

At that moment, a light went off in the darkened room. And what illuminated the room was a camera flash. The shutter sound was alien and out of place in those surroundings.

Chiehori had captured the moment that the nurse had kicked the old man.

“So eccentric! You fascinate me endlessly!” Tsukiyama gave Chiehori a few words of praise as he reached a hand out to her. Then he grabbed her by the collar of her pajamas and easily lifted her up to his eye level.

“No matter how much someone’s suffering you don’t take note, you little superiority-complex case! I can’t hate you for it. What I think is, humans have been able to thrive for so long because of your tenacity in life, to put on a mask and become someone else for your own sake—it’s in that cruelty that allows you to easily betray others! But …”

Tsukiyama smiled at her.

“But now the game’s over!” he said, sticking Chiehori’s body out the window. If he let go, she would tumble headlong toward the ground. And a certain death.

The wind was blowing along the building, and the curtains flapped. A temporary silence fell over the chaotic hospital room.

“Now tell me. Do you know what I can see in your eyes?”

Hiding a gleeful smile, he spoke to her as if all was exposed, as if he could see right through her. As he spoke, he lifted one finger of the hand that had hold of her.

“Seething fear, a rising sense of despair. The world losing its color, your heart frozen …”

Chiehori’s feet flailed as if she was having trouble breathing, and her body shook slightly in reaction.

The choices she could make were limited now. She could become violent in a desperate attempt to escape, or she could start pathetically pleading for her life—those were her options.

At any rate, instead of holding herself aloof from the world still, she must now finally have inside her a rough sketch entitled “Emotion.”

Tsukiyama lifted another finger away from her.

So, what kind of person are you?

If he let go it would not be long before she was knocking on the gates of the afterlife. Tsukiyama waited for her to say something.

But she did not utter a single peep. She looked up at the sky all of a sudden, then brought her gaze back to Tsukiyama and took her camera in hand.

Then, after looking at Tsukiyama through the viewfinder, she pressed the button.

“Mmm … good shot.”

She made it clear to him that, even at the moment of her impending death, she would take pictures as always. That truth made Tsukiyama’s skin crawl.

She was not so devoid of personality that she didn’t care about sacrificing everything. To her, everything living existed in the same field. With a sense of values that went beyond the moral, she looked at all living beings equally. She saw no distinction between humans and Ghouls, dogs and cats, even between birds and fish—they were all the same to her. So she took things as they were, let her own curiosity run wild, and kept on taking the kind of photos that excited her. Her approach was instinctual and pure, nothing more.

Her mentality’s not too different from mine—with my insatiable desire to keep searching for the greatest gastronomic experiences.

“Well, isn’t this funny!”

Tsukiyama tightened his grasp on her clothing and pulled her back into the room.

“Easy does it.”

Chiehori collapsed to the floor, her own sense of equilibrium thrown off by dangling in the air. But soon she picked herself up and stood on her own two feet.

She was silent for a second. “Oh, I’m alive. Lucky,” she said.

Although she had just had a close call with death, the tone of her voice was light, rejoicing in her survival. Tsukiyama had a sudden realization.

“Oh, I get it now! You’re like a pet!”

He was pleased at having found the answer. A puzzled expression crossed Chiehori’s face.

“I couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t lift a finger no matter what, but if I consider you the same as a pet it all makes sense! From now on, little mouse, I’m going to make you my pet!”

“What? No, I don’t wanna be,” Chiehori said plainly and started looking at the photos she had taken.

“Is this the same fascination humans have with cuddly cats? It’s really intriguing!”

Without much consideration Tsukiyama patted Chiehori on the head. He looked at her and thought she’d be handy in size and easy to keep as a pet.

“Forget about that, Tsukiyama. Have you heard of scheduling blog posts?”

Chiehori put her camera down and looked up at Tsukiyama. It was a sudden change in topic.

“Of course. You write a post and then you have the ability to set a time you want it to go live. Right?”

“Exactly. The thing is, I scheduled a post with the photos I took of you eating to go up at exactly 1:00 a.m.”

On the one hand, this meant that she had wanted to expose the brutal photos proving he was a Ghoul on the Internet. But she didn’t seem to be trying to threaten Tsukiyama or deceive him, either.

“I set it up because I thought there was a chance I might die and my body would never be found, and I hated that idea. So I wrote something like, ‘The culprit is Shu Tsukiyama, a student at Seinan Gakuin University High School, please investigate him.’ But it seems like I’ve survived, so I’ve gotta delete that scheduled post.”

She seems so useless, but she’s logical; she seems so stupid, but she’s very sharp.

Chiehori looked out the window from which she had nearly just been dropped, and pointed to an azalea tree a short distance away, where she had hidden her bag.

“Oh, but first we have to get out of here somehow. We can’t just go strolling out of this hospital.”

She rubbed her index finger against her temple, as if she had not thought that far ahead. Tsukiyama laughed out loud at the sight.

She does all these things uncalculatedly, as if they were natural to her. There’s no category for her, she’s just a unique creature called Chie Hori.

“Well then, shall we leave this place?”

I got what I wanted. There’s no use in being here anymore.

“Oh?”

Tsukiyama picked Chiehori up under her arms and stepped up onto the window frame. Then he turned back to look at the nurse, who stood on the other side of the hysterical old man. She was crouched down, trying to catch her breath.

He gave her a smile.

“I hope we can be good ‘friends’ with you, madam.”

She made a confused sound, not understanding his meaning. Tsukiyama said nothing more before springing out the window.

“What on earth … What just happened?”

The menace threatening their lives had left. But the nurse’s trembling still had not stopped, and she stayed sitting on the floor. She was too upset to move.

The first one of them to stand was the old man, who had been groveling on the floor. But soon he fell again, crying out in pain. The nurse looked at the old man’s ungainly form and felt somewhat calmer. She put her hand against the wall for support and slowly stood up. Whatever else, she now had to go back to the nurses’ station and report a Ghoul attack. She put her hand on the knob of the room’s door.

“I won’t forget …”

The old man’s voice sounded like he had been crawling across the desert. The nurse looked at him in surprise.

“Everything you did to me, I won’t forget it!”

He was bleeding from everywhere his skin had been torn off, but the old man shot a sharp eye at the nurse, stopping her in her tracks.

“I’m going to reveal everything, how you kept on hitting me! You wouldn’t know humanity if it looked you in the eye, girl!”

Suddenly there was a crack, the sound of something breaking. Something that had been worn down under extreme circumstances.

The nurse’s hand dropped from the doorknob. Silently, she walked back toward the old man.

She walked past where the old man was, then took a pair of gloves out of the pocket of her white coat.

She stopped in front of the shelves. She picked up the fruit knife from where it sat near the fruit, still giving off a sweet smell.

“W … what are you …”

The nurse turned back to the old man.

The edge of the knife gleamed in the sliver of moonlight that shone into the room.

V

A few weeks later, Tsukiyama was having a coffee after class at a café near the school. Sitting across from him, Chiehori was gobbling down a crepe.

“Oh, by the way, did you see what happened?”

Now feeling full, Chiehori opened her laptop and tapped at the keyboard. Then she turned it toward Tsukiyama to show him.

It was an article with the shocking headline, “Sickbed Bloodbath: Horror at the Hospital.” The victim was a 94-year-old male patient.

With the amount of skin he’d had ripped off, the old man should have been able to survive if given immediate care. But the article used words like “murder” and “death.”

“It looks like they’re putting all the blame on me. But I feel sad for him.”

The article said that a nurse on the night shift doing her rounds had tried to protect the patient from a Ghoul but was attacked herself, and fainted.

Chiehori turned the laptop back toward herself. “It was kind of your fault to begin with,” she said.

“She’d been hiding her cruelty since the beginning. I just picked up on it.”

Sparked by Tsukiyama’s words, Chiehori started going back through the data on her camera, and looked again at the picture of the old man embracing the nurse.

She saw the nurse, the one who’d been referred to as unable to hide her smile, looking at the old man as if he were lower than a dog.

“Oh, this is it. I did meet that nurse before.”

“Some hobby you have.”

She had taken a picture of the nurse’s decisive moment. Although in some situations there was a possibility of harm to herself, Chiehori crossed that particular dangerous bridge with typical calm.

“After all, she’s now ‘the brave nurse,’ so she’s getting a lot of sympathy at the hospital.”

“Huh?”

“She told me, ‘I’m going out with that doctor I always had a crush on now, thanks to you.’ She expressed her gratitude to you, Tsukiyama. She said you’re like a god.”

The world is cruel. Just as doing good is not limited to helping people, doing wrong is not just about stealing someone’s happiness. But that’s what makes it interesting.

“Nobody’s as powerful as a tragic princess.”

Tsukiyama brought his coffee up to his lips and took a sip, rolling it over his tongue.

“I can’t wait until her happiness gets flambéed,” he said.

But it wouldn’t be enough, not nearly enough.

Tsukiyama’s own tongue was begging for it. The sublime taste that would send him into a daze—the taste of her happiness.

Someday I’ll run into her again, I can feel it in my bones. Tsukiyama’s smile deepened.

Chiehori saw, got him in her viewfinder, and pressed the button.