The dim light of the sterile underground ward flickered faintly, casting jagged shadows along the cracked concrete walls. This secret haven beneath the bustling streets of Tokyo served as a sanctuary for ghouls, a labyrinth of abandoned tunnels and forgotten subway platforms, steeped in the scent of mildew and the faint metallic tang of rust. The air was damp, clinging to the skin like a cold sweat, and faint echoes of distant dripping water punctuated the oppressive silence.
This place was not built for comfort but for survival, born from the desperate need of ghouls to carve out a hidden corner in a world determined to erase them. Decades ago, outcasts and wanderers had stumbled upon these unused passageways, turning them into a makeshift refuge with salvaged furniture, dim lights, and crude medical supplies scavenged from the human world above.
Now, it stood as a testament to their resilience, though the weight of fear and secrecy never left its shadowed halls. a grim refuge from the relentless eyes of humans and the merciless enforcers of the CCG. It was the year 2000, a time of rapid technological advancements and lingering urban decay. Tonight, this hidden lair pulsed with an unusual tensionāa foreboding sense that something extraordinary was about to unfold.
Reika gripped the edge of the cold, rusting metal table, her knuckles white with strain. Her sweat-drenched, raven-black hair clung to her face, and her pale, ashen skin shimmered under the flickering light.
Her breathing came in sharp, ragged bursts. Even with her enhanced ghoul physiology, the primal agony of childbirth clawed through her, raw and unrelenting. Beside her, Shiro stood stiffly, his crimson kakugan glowing faintly in the dim room.
His light red hair, usually combed neatly, was disheveled from the restless motions of his handsāalternating between wringing nervously and brushing against his scalp in a futile attempt to steady himself.
"You're doing great," Shiro murmured, though his voice cracked. His words were hollow, weighted by the gnawing fear clawing at his chest. His usually stoic expression was marred by a raw, childlike terror.
He glanced anxiously at the midwife, as though seeking confirmation that this was normalāthat they weren't about to bring something monstrous into the world. "You're almost there, Reika."
The midwife, an older ghoul with deep scars etched across her face, worked with practiced efficiency. Her pale violet kakugan shimmered faintly as she avoided looking directly at the couple. Though her hands moved with the precision of experience, her darting eyes betrayed her unease. "She's crowning," the woman said, her voice hushed, almost reluctant. "Push, Reika. One last push."
Reika's scream tore through the confined room, a raw, guttural sound that reverberated off the concrete walls. Shiro winced, his nails digging into his palms as he stepped back, his instincts screaming at him to flee. Instead, he rooted himself in place, the weight of his responsibility pinning him like a vise. His crimson kakugan flared brighter, an involuntary reaction to the primal fear swelling inside him.
The air shifted, heavy with tension, as the baby's first cry echoed through the room. It was a sound both fragile and otherworldly, stirring a primal unease in everyone present. The midwife's hands shook as she lifted the tiny, writhing infant, her face blanching at the sight before her.
"It's a girl," the midwife said, though her voice wavered as though the declaration itself carried some unspeakable dread.
Reika reached out with trembling arms, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. The baby's small, fragile body was placed against her chest, and for a fleeting moment, relief softened her features. But then the child's eyes opened. Black sclera framed irises with three distinct colored ringsāa fiery red at the center, a haunting violet in the middle, and an eerie black at the edges. The sight was both mesmerizing and profoundly unsettling, drawing a sharp intake of breath from the midwife, who staggered slightly, her composure cracking under the weight of the unnatural visage.
Shiro's own kakugan dimmed for a moment, as if in submission to the overwhelming presence of his daughter's mutated eyes. Reika stared, her exhaustion momentarily overshadowed by a raw, primal fear that gnawed at her insides.
The silence in the room grew oppressive as the parents exchanged glances filled with unspoken terror and uncertainty, the baby's gaze seemingly piercing through them, holding secrets they dared not confront. fiery red at the center, a haunting violet in the middle, and an eerie gold at the edges.
The unnatural kakugan was mesmerizing yet deeply unsettling. Yet it wasn't just her eyes that drew gasps. Two pale horns protruded from her forehead, curling slightly upward like polished ivory, gleaming faintly in the dim light.
Shiro's breath hitched. He staggered backward, his crimson kakugan still glowing but now tinged with disbelief and something darker. "Horns?" he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze flicked to Reika, desperate for reassurance, but found none. "Whatā¦ what the hell is this?"
The midwife took a cautious step back, her voice trembling. "Thisā¦ this isn't natural. This isn't right."
Reika's lips quivered as she stared down at her daughter. Her hands trembled against the baby's skin, and her breathing grew shallow. The horns, stark and alien, were almost mesmerizing against the baby's soft tufts of pinkish red hair. "Shiroā¦" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What is she?"
Shiro's kakugan flared instinctively, his fear igniting a defensive rage. He took a step closer but hesitated, his body taut with apprehension. "I don't know," he said, his voice hoarse. "Butā¦ but we didn't ask for this. What ifā¦" His words trailed off, his eyes darting to the midwife, then to the horns, as though expecting them to move.
The baby's cries softened, replaced by hiccupping breaths. Her tiny fists waved aimlessly, and her unseen vectors shifted like silent ghosts, visible only to her. Reika's grip on her daughter tightened despite her terror. Her heart pounded in her chest, her instincts warring between protecting her child and recoiling from her.
"She's ours," Reika said finally, though her voice lacked conviction. "Isn't she?" Her eyes sought Shiro's, pleading for him to agree, to share the weight of the fear gnawing at her.
Shiro swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "We don't know what she is," he said, his voice grim. "Butā¦ we can't let anyone else find out. If they doā¦" His voice faltered, his imagination filling the silence with horrors too vivid to dismiss.
The midwife shifted uncomfortably, her hands trembling as she packed up her supplies. "I don't think you understand," she said, voice barely audible. "Whatever this child isā¦ it's not something the world is ready for. The CCG, other ghoulsāif they find out, they won't care about explanations. They'll see her as a threat. She'll be their next experiment!"
The baby stirred in Reika's arms, her strange presence unsettling in its silence. Her piercing eyes seemed to watch them knowingly, her unseen vectors coiling protectively around her as though aware of her parents' unease.
"What should we name her?" Reika asked, her voice shaking. The question felt like an anchor, something normal to cling to amidst the spiraling chaos.
Shiro hesitated, his eyes locked on the baby. He spoke the name with an almost reverent dread, as though naming her would make her existence real. "Kana," he said finally. "It means power and beauty. Butā¦" He paused, his voice dropping. "It's more than that now, isn't it?"
Reika nodded slowly, tears welling in her eyes. "Kana," she echoed. "Our Kana." But her voice cracked as she spoke the words, her fear too palpable to mask.
Shiro stepped forward hesitantly, his fingers brushing against Kana's tiny hand. The baby's eyes locked onto his, her gaze piercing and unrelenting. For a moment, Shiro felt a shiver crawl up his spineāa sensation that this child, his child, could see through him, past him, into some unknown void that he dared not imagine.
In the oppressive silence that followed, the couple sat together, their bodies tense with dread as they held their child. The horns, the mutated kakugan, the strange presence only Kana could seeāall of it marked her as something otherworldly. Above ground, the world teemed with danger and prejudice, and they both knew their fragile sanctuary could not hold forever.
The night deepened, and the room settled into an uneasy stillness. Shiro's hand lingered on Kana's, his gaze distant and heavy with unspoken fears. Reika rested her head back against the cold wall, her exhaustion finally overcoming her anxiety. Kana's soft, steady breaths filled the silence, the only sign of peace in an otherwise fractured moment. For now, they could only wait, uncertain of what lay ahead.
Despite their exhaustion, neither Shiro nor Reika could fully let their guard down. Every flicker of light, every creak in the concrete, sent jolts of anxiety through their weary minds. Shiro's thoughts spiraled into dark scenarios, and his usually calm demeanor teetered on the edge of despair. "Reika," he muttered, his voice barely audible, "what if... what if they come for her?"
Reika tightened her hold on Kana. "Then we protect her," she replied firmly, though her tone was tinged with fear. "No matter what."