by Shin Towada
When she looked up out of anxiety, Yoriko was also looking down. Maybe things can’t go back to the way they were before anymore.
A drop fell onto Yoriko’s cheek. The light in her eyes was the same that Touka had seen when, in her fury in the hallway at school, she’d wanted to fire back at Mayuhara.
“Yoriko …”
Her teardrops kept dropping, like rain just beginning to fall.
“I’m sorry.”
Yoriko opened her mouth, breaking the silence.
“Mayuhara … told me all I did was annoy you, Touka. What if that’s what I was doing, if I was just being too pushy? The idea scared me …”
Her hands tightly gripped the bag with the lunch in it as she started to open up to Touka about the feelings she had been burdened with.
“I wondered, what if you really did hate me? And I, I got scared, it scared me …”
The idea that she thought that far … Touka shook her head. It’s not true, absolutely not.
“You’re always so cool and collected, Touka—all the things that I’m not, the ideal girl, but … But I can’t speak my mind to people like you can, and I’m dumb, and there are a lot of things I don’t pick up on, and all I do is drag you down. I’m so useless …”
Don’t think that. I’m so much more imperfect than you, and I make idiotic mistakes, and I’m oblivious to the pain of others because I’m too used to pain myself.
But you’re not like that, Yoriko. I feel calmer just being around you—that’s the kind of presence you have. You’re so, so many of the things I’m not.
“I … had some suspicions about you, I guess. I kind of couldn’t believe we were friends, even though we were. But then you were so nice to me, despite everything about me … I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Touka. I’m sorry …”
So many emotions welled up in the pit of Touka’s heart. There were so many things she wanted to say to Yoriko, but she couldn’t get a single word out through the frustration and the pain. She opened her mouth to try to speak, then closed it without saying anything, before repeating the same action.
Say something, say something now!
Her irritation with herself took her even further away from being able to speak. God, I just want to cry now.
But it was then that Yoriko raised her head.
“Touka …”
She looked straight at Touka’s face and, wiping her tears with the palm of her hand, she smiled.
Yoriko grabbed Touka’s hand tightly.
“Oh … you never can hide your feelings, can you?”
It’s okay, the message got across, Touka felt like she’d heard her say.
“Look, Touka, there’s a baby lion!”
Afterward, they went to the zoo together. Yoriko happily and excitedly ran ahead on her own. Touka chased after her.
In the petting zoo they found a rabbit, and Touka carefully reached out to try to touch it. But the rabbit slipped through her hands and got away. When she seemed sad about it, Yoriko picked the rabbit up in her arms and let Touka pet it.
“Wow, this looks great! Did you really make all of this?”
At lunchtime, they spread out a blanket on a grassy patch and opened their lunchboxes. Yoriko’s eyes gleamed with surprise when she looked inside. Touka struggled for words for a moment before saying, “Sort of.” Kaneki had made most of it, but it didn’t really matter.
“I never knew you could cook like this, Touka … It’s so delicious! And perfectly seasoned!” That was Kaneki’s doing too.
“I won’t be outdone!” Yoriko said, her eyes burning with competitiveness.
Touka laughed drily as she picked up a piece of chicken with her chopsticks and held it out to Yoriko.
“What?”
“Open up.”
Touka tried giving a bite to her, like Yoriko always did. She seemed embarrassed to have it done to her, and she opened her mouth a little shyly.
Just then, they heard footsteps on the grass—someone was approaching.
Touka caught a snippet of their conversation.
“But nobody thought you’d be reassigned to the 20th Ward on an extraordinary basis, Yanagi.”
“It was Rank 1 Investigator Mado’s decision, so nobody can do anything about it.”
Touka dropped the chicken from her chopsticks in surprise. But it landed perfectly in Yoriko’s waiting mouth. Yoriko hadn’t taken note of the men; she was busy chewing. Touka kept her body toward her friend, moving just her eyes to look at them. She saw two men with attaché cases staring right at her.
Ghoul investigators!
No way have I ever run into these guys in a place like this. But on second thought, they have to do patrol routes through the places where people go too. What if the suspicious person that Yoshimura was talking about was this Ghoul investigator, Mado’s replacement?
If he realizes I’m the “Rabbit” this place’ll be a battlefield in an instant. And right in front of Yoriko’s eyes …
A chill ran down Touka’s spine. Her heart started pounding. The investigators still had not taken their eyes off her.
“The fried chicken is so tender!” Yoriko said, her hand pressed to her cheek, breaking Touka’s sudden tension. Involuntarily distracted by this, Touka was open to attack. Dammit, she thought, and focused all of her attention on where the investigators were.
“Doesn’t this place just warm your heart?”
The investigators, however, were at ease.
“It’s peace like this we’re bound to protect. Ready to go, Toujou?”
“Yessir.”
With that, they left.
Dumbfounded, Touka was watching the men leave in stunned silence when Yoriko broke in to ask, brightly, “So which do you think is your best creation?” To those men, Touka had looked like nothing but a happy schoolgirl sharing jokes with a friend.
“Well, I’d say … the chicken?” Touka said, smoothing all traces of the investigators from her heart as they walked into the distance.
“I knew you’d say that.” Yoriko nodded, then laughed quietly as if she’d just thought of something.
While Touka wondered what it was, Yoriko picked up a piece of chicken and held it out to Touka.
“Your turn.”
It was a scene just like always, part of their unchanging daily life. Although Touka was a Ghoul and couldn’t stand human food, Yoriko’s smile brought calm to her heart.
Touka took a bite of the chicken. As always, it was the worst thing she’d ever tasted, but Touka lifted the corners of her mouth and gave a faint smile.
“No, yours is.”
“Mine is what?”
“The fried chicken you make is better.”
Human relationships are full of lies. But that’s also how Touka, by making an effort, was able to hold on to her own normality.
“Today was really fun,” Yoriko murmured softly, reluctant to admit their day was over. They were in the train on the way back, and the sun was just beginning to set. Touka nodded, gazing at the red-tinged world out the window.
For a moment, at least, it feels like we’ve gone beyond the divide between humans and Ghouls, like we’re sharing the same feeling.
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 a
s 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.
