authors note: hi readers so i just remembered toukas hair was actually bluish and rize was purplish at least in the anime. i feel like this story is getting some good traction so i wanted to release what i had so far chapter 3 ill release the second half when i get the time. hope you guys enjoy even though its a little short.
Yesterday is still a blur. Even now, I can hardly believe it myself.
But belief has nothing to do with it.
I've been infected—bonded—with some kind of alien parasite.
"Parasite!!!" the voice responded inside my head, loud and intrusive, like it was banging the walls in my thoughts. "Is there anything in your mind safe from my eavesdropping?"
"No," it said. "I told you before. We are—"
"Bonded. Yeah, I got that," I cut in. "At least until you find someone else to occupy."
"Not likely," it said, almost amused. "You're too good of a match. With you, I don't need anyone else."
"Well. Lucky me."
Silence for a moment, except for the faint hum in the back of my skull. Then "So where are we going?"
I sighed. "Shouldn't you already know? You've pretty much invaded every corner of my head."
"I do," it replied. "Just trying to make conversation."
"Then you already know I'm not planning on eating anyone. Again."
"I need food," it said, a low growl curling around the edges of its voice. "If I don't eat, then—"
"Yes, yes, I know," I interrupted quickly. "Which is why I'm trying to put it off as long as possible. So until we find something else to keep you fed, the only thing that seemed to help was that coffee." I frowned. "Why does that help, anyway?"
"It's not the coffee," it said after a pause. "It's what was in the coffee."
"What's that supposed to mean? What was in it?"
"Trust us," it murmured, tone dark and oddly satisfied. "You don't want to know."
"Fine," I muttered, adjusting my hood. "But we're going to need more of it. So if you won't tell me, at least help me find it."
The bell above the café door chimed softly as I stepped into Anteiku. The familiar aroma of roasted beans and freshly brewed tea drifted through the air, wrapping around me like a memory. It should've been comforting—but now, everything felt different.
The air carried too many scents. Too much information.
As I took a seat, I could feel eyes on me again—watchful, cautious. When I glanced up, the waitress with the bluish hair looked away almost immediately, pretending to busy herself behind the counter.
"What is that smell?" I muttered quietly, keeping my voice low enough not to draw attention.
"There are ghouls here," the voice whispered.
My pulse jumped. Ghouls?
"And you decided to tell me now?!" I hissed under my breath. "How the hell can you even tell?"
"Pheromones," it replied calmly. "Their's are different from humans. Stronger. We're… sensitive to them."
"How do you even know that?" I asked, trying to hide my voice to sound like I wasn't losing my mind in the middle of a coffee shop. "You just got here??"
"Simple," it said with a faint grin I could somehow feel. "I just—"
"Can I take your order?"
Her voice cut through our conversation.The same waitress stood beside me, her blue hair covering half her face, her tone polite but wary.
And the moment I looked up at her, the scent hit me—sharp, metallic sweetness, intoxicating and heavy. Whatever the source was..... right, In front of me.
My muscles tensed instantly. My heart started to hammer, that primal part of me screaming in hunger and fear all at once.
I tried to steady my breathing, tried to look normal, but the edges of my vision were starting to blur. Then, suddenly… silence. Calm.
It had done something.
"Uh, yeah," I said, my voice steady again, though it didn't feel like mine. "Can I get the same thing I ordered yesterday? You probably don't remember but—"
"I remember," she said, giving a faint, almost knowing smile. "I'll have it out for you in a moment."
As she walked away, I turned toward the window, staring through the reflection of my own face. My pulse was steady again—too steady.
"What did you do to me?" I asked under my breath.
The voice chuckled, low and soft."Kept you from doing something stupid."
"Will you stop messing with my body? Just—look, if you want to help, then tell me who else in here is a ghoul."
"Fine," Predator murmured, voice crawling through my skull like smoke. "Besides her… only the one behind the counter."
I turned my head slightly. Behind the counter stood only an old man—gray hair, steady hands, quiet eyes that smiled when he poured a cup."You're telling me he's a ghoul?" I whispered. "You've got to be kidding me."
Honestly, I never would've guessed. He looked like someone's grandfather, not a monster who could rip out a throat without blinking. My pulse quickened again, a jittery rhythm that made my fingers twitch. Predator must've released whatever grip it had on my body, because the calm that had been forced on me began to fade, replaced by the raw thrum of nerves.
"Don't worry," it whispered, low and assured. "I will protect us."
"Yeah," I muttered under my breath, eyes drifting back toward the window. "I doubt even you could handle two ghouls at once."
Then the doorbell chimed.
A sharp, bright ding that cut through the café's warm hum. I froze.Immediately, a chill ran down my spine. My instincts screamed before I could even turn—every nerve in my body tense, skin prickling like static. Whatever had just entered the shop… wanted blood. My blood. Sometimes I feel what Predator feels sense what it senses. and right now theres only one thing that describes this feeling. Blood lust.
Predator stirred uneasily inside me, coiled and ready to strike. I could feel its agitation like a second heartbeat pressing against my ribs.Stay still.I clenched my fists under the table. We couldn't afford to be discovered. Not here. Not now.
The sound of heels clicked softly against the tile floor, slow and deliberate. Closer. My breath hitched, caught halfway between fight and flight. And then, when I turned my head—
It was just a woman.
Beautiful, elegant—almost unnaturally so. Purple hair, She carried herself with quiet poise, the faintest scent of lilies trailing after her as she crossed the room. She sat down gracefully at a corner table, slipped a small book from her purse, and began to read.
For a moment, I felt foolish. My muscles loosened; I even let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.But then she looked at me.
Just a glance. A polite, effortless smile. But the moment her eyes met mine, every ounce of warmth drained from my body. My blood ran cold. Behind that calm, civilized expression—I felt something else. like Primal instinct of seeing something that wants to eat you, but dialed to a hundred.
I turned away quickly, pretending to study the reflection in the window glass.
"Here you go."
I jumped slightly, pulse spiking before I realized it was just the waitress—her voice soft but steady. She placed the coffee on the table. This time, though, there was something in her expression. A flicker of unease behind her polite smile. Ghouls could feel things too—it seemed.
"Ah—thank you," I said, managing a weak smile as she walked away.
I lifted the cup to my lips and took a sip.
The warmth hit instantly, spreading through my chest like a tide of calm. The sharp edges in my mind dulled. The whisper of hunger faded into the background. It was like lighting a cigarette after a long day—wrong, addictive, and soothing all at once.
For a brief, fragile moment, I forgot about Predator. About ghouls. About the corpse in the alley.
like the relief from giving into a bad habit.