The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the hill. The familiar breeze rustled through the leaves of the large tree under which Kazuki, Junpei, and Rika sat. The town below them was peaceful, a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air between them.
Kazuki leaned back against the tree trunk, his eyes counting the leaves above him thinking about what Junpei had asked him. Rika sat beside him, her usual stoic expression softened by the setting sun. Junpei, seated across from them, his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.
After a moment, Junpei spoke, breaking the silence. "Kazuki," he began, his voice calm but carrying a weight that immediately drew Kazuki's attention. "You need to listen to me carefully. This might prove to be very important for you, considering… your situation."
Kazuki nodded slightly, turning his gaze to Junpei, who was now fully focused on him.
"You've probably heard about a condition in humans called Thalassemia, right?" Junpei continued.
"Yeah," Kazuki replied. "It's when both parents carry a gene, and there's a 25% chance the child might die at birth because of it."
"Exactly," Junpei said, nodding. "Now, imagine something similar happening when a Ghoul and a human get together. But instead of a 25% chance, there's a 75% chance that the child won't even make it to birth. It's because both Ghouls and humans have two kinds of genes. One is normal, the other… deadly."
Kazuki's expression tightened, absorbing the information. "So there's only a one in four chance that the child gets the normal gene from both parents?"
"Yes," Junpei confirmed, his eyes serious. "And even then, the child's survival isn't guaranteed. The mother might not survive the pregnancy. That's why, historically, Ghouls and humans have stayed divided. Those few who do try to get together… they usually don't risk having children, the future is uncertain, they don't know when Poachers might come after them, or when other Ghouls might attack them."
Kazuki looked down, processing what Junpei had said. It made sense, in a way. The rarity of Half Ghouls explained why there was so little information about them.
Junpei sighed, leaning back on his hands. "This is why there's so little known about Half Ghouls. They're rare, and the risks are too high for most to even try. But you… your case is very similar to a Half Ghoul. That's why this information might be useful to you."
Kazuki nodded, his mind churning with new questions.
"There's something else you need to understand, Kazuki," Junpei said, his tone careful. "When it comes to Half Ghouls, the gene combinations are… well, they're practically limitless."
Kazuki's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Junpei leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gathered his thoughts. "My sister-in-law, before she passed, tried to explain it to me. She said that after a child is born, the genes that determine their traits—whether they're more Ghoul or human—are like a binary code. It's either 0 or 1. But the possibilities aren't as simple as that."
Kazuki listened intently, trying to keep up with the complex idea Junpei was presenting.
"Take nourishment, for example," Junpei continued. "A Half Ghoul might be able to get sustenance from human food, like a normal person. Or, they might only be able to survive on Ghoul food. Then there's a third possibility: they could have the ability to consume both, or… neither, leading to a whole different set of problems."
Kazuki's eyes widened slightly at the thought. "So, it's like a coin toss for each trait?"
"In a way, yes," Junpei nodded. "And it doesn't stop at nourishment. The child might have access to Aura, which is typically associated with Ghouls, or Marma, which humans can use, or maybe both. Or, in rare cases, neither—leaving them in a very precarious position."
Junpei paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in before continuing. "Then there are other factors—healing abilities, the strength of their internal structure, even how their body reacts to injuries. Each of these traits is determined by a combination of genes, and the outcomes are endless."
Kazuki felt a chill run down his spine. The idea that he could dive into the unknown, and find a new side to him. "So, each Half Ghoul could be completely different from the next?"
"Exactly," Junpei affirmed. "No two Half Ghouls are the same. Their abilities, their weaknesses… they're all unique to them. That's what makes it so difficult to predict what they might be capable of, and in turn what you might be capable of."
Kazuki leaned back against the tree, his mind reeling from this new information. It was a lot to take in—the idea that he was an anomaly, a unique combination of traits that could either be a blessing or a curse.
"And that's why it's so important for you to figure out what you can do, Kazuki," Junpei added, his voice gentle but firm. "You have to learn to understand your own strengths and limitations, because no one else can do it for you."
***
Kazuki lay on his futon, the cold, damp air of the cell seeping into his bones. He wanted strength, and right now he could do anything for it, as being weak will probably land him in a whole lot of pain.
His mind had been running in circles, searching for strength, currently it was replaying Junpei's words about the potential endless possibilities of his genetic makeup. It was like a puzzle he couldn't quite solve, a riddle with too many answers.
Suddenly, the pieces seemed to click together in his mind. Kazuki's eyes snapped open, and he sat up straight, his heart pounding in his chest. "Endless possibilities," he muttered under his breath, the words echoing in the quiet darkness of the cell.
His eyes darted around the room, searching for something. The dim light barely illuminated the bare walls, the rusty bars, and the cold concrete floor. Then, his gaze landed on the burger box lying in the corner, discarded after his first meal in this hellish place. The 'meat' patty was still in the box.
Kazuki's heart began to beat in rhythm with the distant thumping music, a pulse that seemed to vibrate through the walls of the cell. He swallowed hard, feeling a strange mix of fear and anticipation welling up inside him.
Junpei's words rang through his head.
"Then there's a third possibility: they could have the ability to consume both…"
"Endless possibilities, indeed," He said, as a look of determination formed on his face.
***
An old, ragged sedan rumbled to a stop in front of a small, nondescript building, its faded paint and rusted edges blending seamlessly with the desolate surroundings. The building was tiny, no bigger than two or three toolsheds one might find in a forgotten backyard. It stood alone in the middle of nowhere, a few kilometers away from Kyoto, surrounded by overgrown weeds and the eerie silence of the countryside.
The car's engine sputtered off, leaving only the sound of a distant wind rustling through the dry grass. Two men stepped out of the vehicle, their faces hidden under the shadows of their hoods. They moved with purpose, their footsteps crunching on the gravel as they approached the structure. One of them reached for the door, a weathered wooden panel that creaked loudly as it swung open.
Inside, the dim light revealed a small, confined space. A buff black man sat behind a makeshift counter, his imposing frame filling the room. He wore all black—clothes that wouldn't look out of place on a bouncer at a seedy club, someone accustomed to the nightlife, standing in front of bars and clubs. His eyes, sharp and watchful, locked onto the newcomers the moment they entered.
"Awakened or Ghoul?" he asked, his deep voice resonating with a cold detachment.
One of the men stepped forward, his hand rising slowly. In an instant, a dagger materialized in his grip, the blade gleaming with a faint, otherworldly glow—the unmistakable sign of Aura. The black man's expression didn't change, but he gave a curt nod of acknowledgment, satisfied with the demonstration.
Without another word, he turned and pushed open a door behind him. A set of stairs descended into darkness, the air growing cooler as it led downwards. The faint thumping of music began to filter up from below, the bass vibrating through the floor and into their bones. The men exchanged a glance, then began their descent into the unknown, leaving the silent, empty building behind them as they ventured deeper into the shadows.