Time galloped on like a wild horse.
Each day, Shiro Sakamaki wandered through classes in a daze, exchanging casual banter with Kato Megumi and Itsuki. Before long, another quiet morning arrived—unassuming, yet destined to change everything.
He had just moved into his new apartment.
That morning, a knock echoed at the door.
Still groggy and wrapped in pajamas, Shiro stumbled over and cracked it open. Standing there was Miku Nakano.
"Morning, Miku."
"Good morning, Shiro Sakamaki-kun. Nino made breakfast. Come eat before it gets cold."
Miku, among the five sisters, was the quietest—socially awkward, even. Though she and Shiro were no longer strangers, their conversations were usually limited to brief LINE messages.
After learning Shiro lived alone, Nino had loudly insisted on repaying him for a dinner he once hosted—by cooking for him. She claimed it was "just a thank-you," but her tone said otherwise. Shiro accepted with a smile. Considering how much he ate, he also offered to chip in for groceries—much to Nino's mock annoyance.
Since then, he'd somehow become an unofficial member of the Nakano household.
Today was a rare day off.
Yesterday, Megumi Kato had reached out. Their teacher wanted her to visit Tomoya Aki in the hospital as a class representative. But the memory of the accident still lingered in her mind, making her uneasy. She asked Shiro to come with her.
He agreed without hesitation. They set the meeting for 10 a.m.
After breakfast and a few light jokes with the Nakano sisters, Shiro hopped on his brand-new motorcycle and rode toward the address Megumi had sent.
When he arrived, he spotted her waiting out front, eyes fixed on her phone.
She wore a clean white dress, layered under a light red coat, with a beret nestled on her head. Simple, but effortlessly charming.
"Yo, Little Kato. Looking cute today."
She looked up, slightly startled—but pleasantly so. Her surprise quickly softened into something warmer.
Megumi Kato wasn't used to being noticed. Often, she'd arrange group outings with classmates, only to be forgotten by the time she arrived. She'd even prepared to sneak up on Shiro in case he didn't notice her.
But he did. Instantly.
Her heart fluttered.
"Don't zone out on me, Little Kato. Hop on."
Over the past few days, Shiro had started calling her that. At first, it caught her off guard. Now, she didn't mind.
Megumi nodded and walked over, but hesitated when she saw the motorcycle.
She was wearing a skirt.
"Shiro Sakamaki-kun… I should go change."
"No need. Just sit sideways. It's fine. I got you."
"But—"
"C'mon, we're gonna be late."
She considered it for a second, then gave in. Sliding onto the seat sideways, she gently placed her hands around his waist for balance.
Just as they were about to take off, she tilted her head slightly and asked, "Shiro Sakamaki-kun, you've only been in Japan for… what, a week?"
He twisted the throttle, and the engine roared like a beast.
"Sixth day, to be exact. Why?"
"…You're probably driving without a license right now, huh?"
A beat of silence.
"…Trust me," he said flatly. "It's fine."
Megumi smiled faintly but said nothing more—just warned him to drive safely.
Though technically unlicensed, Shiro rode with smooth, practiced ease. With his helmet on, he looked older—like a seasoned rider.
The ride went by without issue, and soon they arrived at the hospital.
It was a quiet, high-end private facility. Clean, sterile, and eerily calm.
They made their way to the inpatient wing, walking silently down spotless white halls.
Just as they reached Tomoya Aki's room, a loud crash rang out, followed by a sharp, pained scream.
They froze.
Shiro exchanged a glance with Megumi, then stepped forward.
"Wait here, Little Kato. I'll check it out."
Before she could respond, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
A curtain blocked the view. But once inside, he pulled it aside—and stopped cold.
Tomoya Aki stood amid the wreckage of his hospital room.
Broken glass, shattered bowls, cracked tiles—all scattered around him like a battlefield.
But what truly shocked Shiro wasn't the destruction—it was Aki himself.
Just days ago, he'd been clinging to life. Now, he looked… powerful. His muscles were thick, defined, as if he'd been training for years. There wasn't a scratch on him.
If someone poured oil over his body and put him on stage, he'd probably win a bodybuilding trophy on sight.
But his eyes—especially his right one—were off.
Blood-red. Just like Kaneki's after becoming a one-eyed ghoul.
Shiro's expression darkened.
"You—who are you?!" Aki barked, slamming his eyes shut as he backed up.
Since waking up from the experimental incident, Aki had known something was wrong. At first, he thought he'd been granted some kind of superpower.
His body had healed impossibly fast.
He tore a bathroom door off its hinges without even trying.
But then came the food.
Everything he ate—no matter how delicious it once was—tasted rotten. Like something long dead. Moldy. Putrid.
But when a nurse leaned close—when her pale neck came into view—his hunger flared with terrifying intensity.
The thirst never left. It only grew worse.
Now, after days without food or water, the scent of humans sent his senses spiraling.
Shiro took in the scene—the destruction, the hollow eyes, the ghoul-like features.
It all fit.
He wasn't just imagining things. Tomoya Aki had become something else.
"Sakamaki Shiro," Shiro said quietly, "I was there the day of your accident. I saw what happened."
"I came to check on you… but it seems you're doing better than anyone expected."
He stepped forward, calm and unbothered—as if this was just another Tuesday.
In truth, Shiro had seen worse. Much worse.
Whatever this was… it wasn't his problem.
Yet.
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