The sounds of children talking and laughing filled the air with all the clinking of cutlery meshing together as the children ate their breakfast; a salted cheese omelet made with just the right amount of creamy and sticky cheese that melted in your mouth. Kaneki however, was not focused on the culinary delight he had in front of him. It was the newspaper article that he had in his hands that caught his full attention, causing him to forget where he was all together. All his attention was locked on the newspaper in his trembling hands.

  ‘Authorities conclude investigation on mysterious house explosion that left experts speechless.’

  “Tray... look at this,” Kaneki called, his voice quieter than usual but laced with urgency.

  Tray sighed, pushing back from his seat. “What could possibly—” His words stopped cold as his eyes scanned the headline.

  Kaneki gestured for him to keep reading.

  ‘After a month-long investigation, authorities have officially closed the case on the devastating house explosion that left experts searching for answers. While the cause of the blast remains inconclusive, investigators have ruled out foul play and classified the incident as a natural disaster.

  However, the investigation has brought new revelations to light. The body recovered from the scene has been confirmed as Katil Tureng, who was initially believed to have died by suicide. Forensic evidence now confirms that Tureng was fatally stabbed in the heart by his son, Jiro Tureng, shortly before the explosion. Despite extensive analysis, there is no direct evidence linking either Jiro or his father to the destruction of the house.

  Authorities have since issued a warrant for Jiro Tureng’s arrest. The 15-year-old remains at large, and a bounty has been placed on his capture. His younger brother, 10-year-old Kaneki Tureng, has also been missing since the incident.

  Further complicating the case, Gerald Parker, CEO of Parker & Co., was left in a coma following an altercation at his estate. Sources close to the family, including Parker’s wife and son, have confirmed that Jiro Tureng was responsible for the attack. The Tureng brothers were last seen near the Parker residence before their disappearance, leading authorities to investigate possible connections between the two incidents.

  While the explosion investigation has been closed, the search for Jiro Tureng continues. Authorities urge anyone with information to come forward.

  Kaneki’s breath grew shallow. His fingers tightened around the edges of the paper.

  "So... Jiro really did kill my dad," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Tray hesitated, watching him closely. “Kaneki…” He placed a hand on Kaneki’s shoulder, trying to ground him. “I know how much this hurts. But this could be our chance—to go back. To get you the closure you need.”

  Kaneki didn’t respond. He stared down at his omelet—now cold and unappetizing, forgotten like the morning itself. Tray looked at Kaneki for a moment before turning to leave the dining room.

  The image of Jiro standing over their father’s lifeless body flashed in Kaneki’s mind. The blood. The knife. The brother he thought he knew. Who... is my brother? He thought to himself.

  A prickle ran down his spine. He lifted his gaze and locked eyes with someone across the room.

  Skae.

  She was staring at him, unblinking, her expression fierce, challenging.

  Kaneki swallowed. Does she know something?

  Tray’s footsteps echoed down the hallway as he approached the kitchen, where Hannah was stacking plates. She turned at the sound of his voice.

  “Hannah,” Tray called, his usual casual demeanor replaced with something more urgent.

  She smiled warmly. “Hi, Tray. Need something?”

  He didn’t waste time. “The investigation of Kaneki’s house is finished. We need to take him there—tonight.”

  Hannah’s smile faded instantly. Her hands stilled over the plates, and a sharp seriousness overtook her features.

  “Does anyone else know about this?” she asked, her tone low.

  “No. Just me, you, and Kaneki.”

  She exhaled, shutting her eyes for a brief moment, then nodded. “We leave after the other kids are asleep.”

  Relief flooded through Tray, but he remained composed. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

  Hannah’s expression softened, just a little. “Kaneki has been through enough. If this helps him move forward... then we do it.”

  Tray nodded. “I’ll let him know.”

  As Tray turned back down the hall, ready to tell Kaneki their plan was set, he noticed him emerging from the dining room. Kaneki was moving quickly, almost stumbling over his own feet, his face pale and his breaths shallow.

  “Kaneki!” Tray called out, concern sharpening his tone.

  Kaneki stopped in his tracks and turned toward him. His wide eyes darted around, unable to focus.

  “I don’t know if I want to go back to my house anymore,” Kaneki stammered. “Skae... I think she knows something. She keeps glaring at me, Tray. Should we—should we tell Hannah?”

  Tray stepped forward and grabbed Kaneki’s shoulders, giving them a firm but controlled shake. “Kaneki, calm down. You’re working yourself up.” His voice was steady, reassuring. “I’ll go talk to Skae, okay?”

  He softened his grip and took Kaneki’s hand.

  “For now, just come to my room and take a second to breathe. You need to clear your head.”

  Kaneki swallowed hard, staring at the ground. “…Okay.”

  Tray led him to his room, guiding him gently toward the bed. Kaneki sat down stiffly, his body still tense.

  “Did you tell Hannah?” he asked, voice wavering.

  “Yeah. We leave tonight,” Tray answered firmly.

  Kaneki exhaled, nodding slightly. His stomach twisted, but he clenched his fists. He had to go. He had to see what remained of his home, had to search for something—anything—that might lead him to Jiro.

  “You have until tonight to cool off,” Tray continued. “I know you didn’t eat breakfast, so if you’re hungry, I’ve got biscuits in my drawer.”

  With that, he turned and left the room.

  Kaneki let his head drop, staring blankly at the ceiling. His stomach churned—not just with hunger, but with something else. Uncertainty. Fear.

  Still, he needed his strength. He reached for the drawer, expecting to find the biscuits Tray had mentioned.

  Instead, his fingers froze.

  Inside, resting against the smooth wooden bottom, was an injection vial.

  A sharp, electric chill raced down Kaneki’s spine. The sight of it made his breath hitch, his body stiffen as if trapped in place.

  He knew this vial.

  He didn’t know how but he had seen it before—the moment his eyes landed on it, something inside him recoiled. His blood turned ice-cold.

  Memories flickered at the edges of his mind, just out of reach. A metallic scent. A sterile room. An intense pain, coursing through his blood.

  Why did this feel so familiar?

  His hand trembled, his heart hammering against his ribs.

  Before he could process the thought further, a loud thud echoed from downstairs.

  Tray descended the stairs quickly, his jaw tight. He scanned the hallway, his sharp eyes darting from one side to the other.

  Where is she?

  His pace quickened, each step more forceful than the last. Turning a corner, he spotted her.

  Skae.

  She was walking away, unaware of him.

  Tray clenched his fists. He forced himself to take a breath, then closed the distance between them in swift, measured strides.

  Skae turned at the sound of his footsteps, but before she could react, he grabbed her by the collar and shoved her against the wall.

  Her eyes widened. “What the hell—? Get off me!” She struggled, gripping his wrists, but Tray’s strength was unnaturally strong, her eyes locked on to his grip on her collar for a moment – this was not normal.

  “What’s your problem, huh?” he hissed, his voice low and edged with fury.

  Skae’s jaw tensed. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

  Tray’s grip tightened. His breathing slowed, controlled but dangerous.

  “Stay... away from him.”

  Skae’s gaze flickered to Tray’s eyes. Her body stiffened. A sharp gasp left her lips.

  Tray frowned, confused—until he caught the reflection in a nearby window.

  His eyes.

  They were changing.

  The deep blue of his irises melted into a haunting shade of orange.

  A shudder ran through his body. His hands dropped from her collar, and he stumbled back a step.

  Skae pressed a hand against the wall, her own breath ragged. “Tray… you’re…” She swallowed, unable to finish the sentence.

  Tray felt his throat close. He wanted to deny it, wanted to act like nothing had happened—but the look in her eyes told him she had already seen too much.

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  Before either of them could speak, Skae spun on her heel and bolted toward the stairs.

  “Wait—”

  But she was already gone.

  Skae practically flew up the steps, her heart racing.

  She reached Kaneki’s room and flung the door open.

  Empty.

  Her chest tightened. She turned back just in time to see Tray storming up after her. He moved fast, slamming the door to his own room shut behind him.

  Inside, Kaneki nearly jumped out of his skin. He had barely managed to close the drawer before Tray burst in.

  Tray’s forehead was damp with sweat. His hands trembled slightly as he pressed them against the door, locking it shut.

  “W-why are you sweating?” Kaneki stammered, backing up slightly.

  Before Tray could respond, Skae’s voice rang out from the hallway.

  “Kaneki! Don’t trust Tray! Stay away from him!”

  Kaneki’s breath hitched. His stomach twisted as he looked back at Tray, who was still holding the door shut.

  “Skae and I just had an argument,” Tray said quickly, turning to face him. “She’s been trying to scare you, Kaneki. That’s why she keeps staring at you.” His voice was calm, too calm. His eyes locked onto Kaneki’s with an intensity that made his stomach turn.

  “Skae, stop!” Tray snapped, raising his voice so she could hear.

  “I’m trying to protect him!” Skae shouted back. “Kaneki, please—don’t listen to him!”

  Kaneki’s pulse pounded in his ears. His gaze darted between the door and Tray. His throat felt dry.

  “What’s happening?!” he finally yelled, his voice breaking.

  Footsteps.

  A new voice cut through the tension.

  “Skae, what are you doing?”

  Hannah.

  Her tone was sharp, authoritative.

  “You’re making too much noise,” she continued. “You’re disturbing the other kids.”

  Skae’s voice wavered. “I-I’m sorry, Hannah…”

  There was silence.

  Then, slowly, the sound of footsteps retreating.

  Kaneki stood frozen, his back still against the wall, his breathing shaky.

  Tray finally turned away from the door.

  The room felt suffocating.

  And Kaneki was starting to realize… maybe he really didn’t know who to trust.

  Tray took a slow step toward him, voice soft and careful.

  “It’s okay now. You’re safe.”

  Kaneki felt his body stiffen.

  “Y-yeah.”

  Nightfall came. The orphanage was silent, save for the faint creaks of the old building settling in the cold. The other children were fast asleep, but Kaneki lay awake, his mind restless, tangled in the events of the day. Everything felt wrong. Skae’s warnings. Tray’s unnatural strength. The vial. It was too much to make sense of.

  And now, he was going back. Back to the house where his father died. Where his world shattered.

  His body trembled beneath the thin blanket. What was waiting for him there?

  A gentle knock at the door broke his thoughts. Kaneki inhaled deeply before swinging his legs off the bed and pulling it open.

  Hannah stood there, wrapped in a thick white coat, holding a black one in her hands—the right size for Kaneki. Her warm presence immediately dulled the sharp edge of his doubts, if only for a moment.

  “Hi, Kaneki,” she said gently. “Are you ready?”

  Kaneki hesitated. Was he?

  “Yes,” he breathed. “I think so.”

  He stepped into the dimly lit hallway and glanced to his left. Tray was there, already wrapped in a red coat, a small but confident smile on his face.

  “It’s time, Kaneki.” His tone was steady, reassuring.

  Hannah handed Kaneki the coat and helped him into it, her touch light but firm.

  “Here you go, my darling,” she said with a motherly warmth.

  Kaneki managed a small smile. “Thank you.”

  And with that, the three set off into the night.

  The wind was brutal, slicing through the fabric of their coats with every gust. It howled between the empty buildings, carrying an eerie whistle through the streets.

  “How long will the journey be?” Kaneki asked, instinctively pressing closer to Hannah’s side.

  “Maybe an hour,” she replied, wrapping an arm around him for warmth.

  There was not a single streetlamp in sight, the source of light was being reflected off the moon, allowing the trio to see roughly 10 meters in all directions before the darkness would engulf the rest of their surroundings. Despite this, Tray did not stick with Kaneki and Hannah and opted to walk ahead of the group.

  “Once we reach the house, it’ll all be worth it,” Tray said, his voice firm, almost eager. His pace quickened slightly.

  Kaneki frowned. Why is he so confident?

  Something gnawed at his mind, a realization creeping up on him like a slow-moving shadow. Why does Tray care so much about this?

  He was supposed to be grieving his own parents. Yet, since their first conversation, he had never once expressed interest in finding them.

  Kaneki turned to Hannah.

  “Hannah,” he whispered, keeping his voice low, “have Tray’s parents ever tried to contact him?”

  Hannah blinked at him, clearly puzzled by the question.

  “Tray’s parents?” she repeated. “He told me they passed away a long time ago.”

  Kaneki’s breath hitched.

  “What?” He kept his voice hushed, heart beginning to pound. “He told me they abandoned him at the orphanage’s doorstep.”

  Hannah’s brows knitted together.

  “No, he told me he ran away from another orphanage. He said they mistreated the kids there, so he escaped.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He arrived here a few hours after you did.”

  Kaneki’s stomach twisted. His mind raced back to the day they met—how Tray had said he’d been there first. How he’d acted as if he already knew Kaneki.

  His breath turned shallow.

  “He... he told me he got here before I did.”

  Slowly, he turned his head toward Tray.

  Except—Tray was gone.

  A shiver raced down Kaneki’s spine. His breath faltered.

  The path ahead was empty.

  The red coat. The steady footsteps. The reassuring voice. All gone.

  Kaneki froze, unable to speak, unable to think.

  Hannah followed his gaze, her expression shifting from concern to alarm.

  “Where—” she started.

  The night swallowed Tray whole.

  Explosions shattered the silence, their echoes rippling through the air. Debris rained down, crashing into the ruins of what once was Kaneki’s home. Kaneki and Hannah stood frozen, their eyes wide, their hearts pounding in their chests. Then, a scream—raw, agonized—cut through the destruction like a blade.

  Tray.

  Kaneki and Hannah exchanged a terrified glance. Without hesitation, they ran toward the sound, their feet pounding against the broken ground. Hannah’s breath came in frantic gasps. Was she about to lose a child? Had she made a terrible mistake letting them leave the orphanage in the dead of night? Her panic surged as she saw Kaneki’s expression—a reflection of her own fear. The chaos around them, the explosions, the screams—it all felt like a nightmare. No. Not just a nightmare. That night. The night his father was killed.

  And now, Tray was screaming.

  Was Jiro there? Had he come back?

  They rounded the corner and skidded to a stop.

  Kaneki’s house was destroyed. Completely. It looked like it had been turned inside out. The second floor had collapsed onto the first, its supports obliterated. Shredded remnants of his childhood littered the wreckage—his favorite action figure, his drawings of Jiro and his father, torn and scattered like remnants of a life he could never get back.

  But then Kaneki’s eyes locked onto something far worse.

  A boy stood at the center of the destruction, his breath ragged, his body soaked in blood.

  It was Tray.

  Kaneki’s mouth went dry. His stomach twisted in horror.

  “T-Tray?” he choked out.

  Tray barely reacted. His unfocused eyes darted around before settling on Kaneki.

  “He got me…” he muttered, swaying on his feet. “He’s too powerful…”

  Then his posture straightened. His face, once dazed, hardened into something unreadable.

  “That power... is MINE.”

  Hannah’s instincts kicked in. She stepped protectively in front of Kaneki, her arm pressed firmly against his chest, guiding him backward. Her presence should have been reassuring, but Kaneki couldn’t look away from Tray. Something was wrong. Very wrong. His expression, his voice—it wasn’t just pain. It was obsession.

  Then Kaneki saw what was clutched in Tray’s hand.

  A vial.

  His breath hitched. A wave of nausea rolled through him. That vial. The one from the drawer.

  Before he could even process it, Tray moved.

  Like a bullet, he shot forward, vial in hand, eyes burning with cold determination.

  Kaneki screamed, stumbling back. It was happening again. Just like before. Just like Jiro.

  Hannah moved first. She slammed into Tray with full force, sending him crashing into a broken wall. Splintered wood snapped on impact, debris raining down around him. For a moment, everything was still.

  But then Tray stood up.

  Effortlessly.

  As if the pain didn’t touch him.

  A chill crept up Hannah’s spine. Something was deeply, horribly wrong.

  “Tray...?” she whispered.

  He didn’t answer. His grip on the vial tightened.

  Hannah charged again—but this time, Tray didn’t budge. Instead, he countered, slamming a fist into her stomach with inhuman strength.

  A sharp gasp tore from Hannah’s lips. Blood splattered from her mouth as she crumpled onto the ground, clutching her abdomen.

  Kaneki’s entire body went numb.

  “HANNAH!”

  She groaned, writhing in pain. But Tray wasn’t done. He bent down, fingers curling around a jagged piece of wood.

  Kaneki’s breath stopped.

  No. No, no, no.

  Tray didn’t hesitate. He drove the wood deep into Hannah’s side.

  Her scream ripped through the night.

  Kaneki's heart stopped.

  His hands shook as he watched the blood pour from her wound. His world—his last shred of warmth—was slipping through his fingers.

  “K-Kaneki…” she barely whispered, her voice paper-thin. “Run.”

  Tears blurred Kaneki’s vision. Run? No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

  His gaze flickered to Tray.

  The slow, deliberate steps. The vial still in his hand. The merciless eyes locked onto him.

  Kaneki had seen this before.

  Not in reality. In his nightmares. The ones that haunted him before his father died.

  Tray was closing in.

  Kaneki’s fingers brushed against something—sharp and cold. The broken piece of wood that had landed beside him.

  His breathing steadied. The pain, the grief, the rage—it all boiled inside him, screaming to be released.

  Tray’s determination turned into fear.

  In one fluid motion, Kaneki lunged.

  The wood plunged into Tray’s stomach.

  Tray let out a strangled gasp, his body jerking from the force of the blow. The vial slipped from his grip, rolling uselessly onto the ground. He collapsed onto his knees, whimpering as he grasped at the wound.

  Kaneki barely noticed.

  He was already kneeling at Hannah’s side, gripping her hand as if that alone could keep her here.

  “Hannah, please!” he sobbed. “Don’t leave me! I need you!”

  Her trembling fingers brushed his cheek, soaked in tears

  Hannah looked up at Kaneki and smiled slowly. ‘Kaneki... you’re okay.... he didn’t get you.

  “My darling…” she murmured, her voice fading. “The world has done you wrong… but promise me… promise me you won’t let it consume you…”

  Her smile softened.

  “Promise me… you’ll always… do the right thing.”

  Her hand slipped away.

  Kaneki froze.

  No. No, no, no.

  He clutched her lifeless body, his cries piercing the night.

  And then—

  A ragged, painful grunt.

  Kaneki stiffened.

  Slowly, he turned to see Tray.

  He was pulling the wood from his body, his face contorted in agony. Blood poured from the wound, but he still stood.

  Kaneki didn’t feel fear this time.

  He felt something deeper. Darker.

  Pure hatred.

  His fingers curled into fists. His teeth clenched.

  “Why…” His voice trembled. “Why have you done this?”

  Tray didn’t answer. He only glared.

  “Why did you take her from me?”

  “Last time this happened.... I ran away, I won’t this time”

  A violent tremor surged through Kaneki’s body. The air thickened. Tiny, black flakes flickered into existence, swirling around him. A rhythmic pulse was felt from Kaneki’s body. Tray’s breath hitched.

  Kaneki twitched. A pulse of energy shot through the ground beneath him. The flakes spun faster.

  Then, his eyes—his entire eyes—glowed white.

  Tray stumbled back.

  Kaneki took a slow step forward.

  “This time,” he said, voice eerily steady.

  “This time...” he echoed

  The wind roared.

  “ILL KILL YOU!”

  Four black orbs emerged from Kaneki’s chest and a monstrous, black tornado erupted around him, swallowing him whole.

  Tray barely had time to react before the force hurled him backward. He crashed onto the dirt, coughing, eyes wide in horror.

  And then—silence.

  The tornado dissipated.

  A figure stood in its place.

  Kaneki… but not.

  His entire body was covered in darkness, a living silhouette. He looked human, but something was wrong. His limbs were leaner, longer. He wore long, tattered black trousers, his form blending into the shadows around him.

  Then Tray saw his eyes.

  Glowing. White.

  Kaneki’s lips curled into a snarl.

  A deafening, monstrous scream tore from his throat.

  Tray barely had time to react before Kaneki lunged.

  Kaneki was charging towards him... straight for the kill.