Today was the day Hitokawa was taking the Ghoul Investigator exam. I had sent him some rice cakes as a little good-luck gift, but I wasn't sure if he'd actually eaten them.
After buying groceries for dinner and heading home, I noticed a white envelope tucked between the flyers in the mailbox by the front door.
When I checked the front, I saw that the recipient’s address was written on it, but there was no sender’s address. It was a suspicious letter.
However, the moment I looked closely at the words “To Takaki Koma,” I froze in shock.
“...Mister Kuzen?”
It was definitely Kuzen’s handwriting.
***
Well then, how was I supposed to interpret this?
I was certain this letter had been sent to me. Eto also seemed to catch a familiar scent, as she kept reaching toward the envelope.
But when I actually unfolded the paper, I was left speechless.
It was blank.
I held it up to the fluorescent light, rubbed the surface, and even sniffed it, but no matter what I did, the only conclusion was that it was a completely ordinary blank sheet of paper.
“What is he trying to say? Is this some kind of code? Blank paper... white... nothing? Does that mean everything is fine?”
But why send a letter at all?
He must be in a position where he can’t come see Eto because of those people in the “organization”... If a letter arrived, does that mean he finally has some breathing room? If that were really the case, though, it would be better for him to come in person instead of sending this meaningless letter.
No.
“...Is it because he *can’t* come?”
I looked out the window. The sun had almost set, and the chilly night air was filling the city.
Let’s think this through.
I didn’t know much about Ghouls, but even I could tell from the atmosphere that Mister Kuzen was an exceptional Ghoul. And yet, even he said the “organization” was powerful enough that he couldn’t guarantee Eto’s safety, much less his own life.
He was probably still fighting somewhere in this city just to stay alive.
And in the middle of that, he’d managed to find a tiny, fleeting opening.
After catching his breath, the first thing on his mind would be his daughter's well-being.
Was she doing well? Was she growing up properly?
But he couldn’t come see her directly. He’d managed to find a gap, but it wasn’t nearly enough time to meet his daughter while avoiding the “organization’s” eyes.
So he sent a letter.
He sent it simply to let me know he was still alive.
And the reason it was blank was...
“Uuuuuugh~!”
After spending a while with my head in my hands, trying to puzzle it out, I suddenly turned to look at Eto.
Perhaps she felt comforted by the scent on the envelope, because she had fallen asleep with her cheek pressed against the empty paper. The drool running from her mouth had completely blurred and erased Mister Kuzen’s handwriting.
“...I see.”
I wasn’t sure if the theory I’d come up with was correct.
But this blank paper was the only tool I had.
I grabbed a pencil and spent a while scribbling all over the sheet. After a moment, I set the pencil down and folded the paper neatly into an airplane.
“Here goes.”
I opened the window and launched the paper airplane in a direction where it could catch the wind.
Fortunately, there was a tailwind today. The paper airplane drifted forward in a lazy arc between the buildings.
What if I'm wrong? Please, let this be right. Then again, Mister Kuzen was the one who sent this cryptic letter in the first place, so if I'm wrong, it's his fault... Still, I hope it works.
I watched the white paper airplane travel into the darkness, carrying all my hopes with it.
***
Deep in downtown Tokyo.
In an alley just a short distance from the streets packed with neon lights and endless foot traffic.
There, the stench of blood was so thick it was hard to believe it was the same world as the one outside the alley.
Scattered around were corpses, their forms horribly mangled.
Men dressed in the same attire as the corpses had surrounded the area from all sides, radiating a sinister presence.
And at the center of the circle stood a battered man in a fedora. There was no mistaking it. It was Kuzen.
He had spread his wing-like Kagune behind him, his breathing heavy and ragged.
“This is as far as you go, Kuzen.”
Chomp, chomp.
A man chewing gum with a repulsive smile let out a voice like metal scraping against metal.
“No matter how much you struggle, you’re still just a bird in a cage. You can’t escape the ‘organization.’ Give it up already and tell us where your child is.”
Kuzen, who had been listening in silence, looked up at the sky, watching the sunset turn the heavens a deep shade of purple.
“...I see. I suppose I really do have to give up.”
“So you’ve finally come to your senses. Good. Enough of this pointless resistance...”
“It would be awfully selfish of me to send something so incomprehensible and expect people to understand the meaning behind it...”
“...?”
The man had no idea what Kuzen was talking about.
Just as he wondered if Kuzen had lost his mind under the pressure, a white speck entered Kuzen’s vision.
“...!”
Whoosh!
Kuzen spread his Kagune like wings and shot upward.
Startled by the incredible speed that surpassed everyone's reaction time, the man shouted a beat too late.
“He’s escaping! Catch him!!”
The other men hurried after Kuzen, but he wasn’t running away.
Leaping between the building walls like a stunt performer, he reached the peak of the skyline and snatched the paper airplane that had been carried by the wind.
There was no doubt about it. From this paper airplane came the faint but unmistakable scent of a “friend” and “that child.”
As Kuzen unfolded it, a warm smile appeared on his face—a smile his former comrades would never have known.
“...Thank you, Koma-kun.”
What appeared on the paper was... a drawing of his beloved daughter sleeping peacefully, drooling in her sleep.
Whoosh!
The black-clad men leaped into the sky after him.
Kuzen carefully folded the drawing and tucked it against his chest. Then, he wrapped his wing-shaped Kagune around his arm.
The Kagune coiled around his arm sharpened into a single, lethal blade, and he drew a straight line through the air toward his enemies.
Fwoooosh!!!
Along the path of the strike, the men’s bodies were split apart all at once, spraying blood as they burst like fireworks.
Cutting through that shower of blood, Kuzen charged again at the enemies remaining on the ground.
“Now, let's see if I can find some more strength.”
After seeing his daughter’s face, there was no longer any trace of fatigue in him.
***
“I-I burned it... completely white...!”
After finishing the written exam for the Ghoul Investigator school, Hitokawa Tomoru was lying on a bench in a nearby park, fighting off exhaustion.
The exam had gone pretty well, or so it seemed. But no one knew the results yet.
What if I fail? Will I do okay on the practical?
As he looked up at the bluish-purple sky while worrying about all sorts of things, he suddenly blinked.
“Huh? What was that?”
Just a moment ago, a shadow that looked like a bird—yet also like a person—had risen and vanished in the sky above the city center.
Wondering if he’d seen it wrong, he rubbed his eyes and looked again. The strange shadow was gone, but instead, there seemed to be a flash of red mist before it disappeared like an illusion.
His mind was tired, but curiosity won out, and Hitokawa was just about to walk toward where he’d seen the shadow when—
“Huh? Isn’t that you, Mister!”
He spotted a familiar face along the way and changed direction.
There, standing nearby, was none other than Koma’s father, Takaki Harima.
Harima had come by to prepare for a lecture invitation from the investigator school, and when he heard the familiar voice, he turned around.
“Hitokawa? What are you doing here?”
Because Hitokawa and his son Koma had been friends for years, Harima knew him well. They hadn’t had many chances to meet since Koma started living on his own, though.
“Don’t tell me you came here for the exam? To become a Ghoul Investigator?”
“Yes!”
At Hitokawa’s confident answer, Harima let out a bitter sigh.
“I’m the type who’d like to stop anyone I know from becoming a Ghoul Investigator if I can... It’s a very dangerous job.”
“I know. But I still want to do it.”
Was that steady, unyielding look in his eyes because he didn’t really understand how dangerous Ghouls were, or just because of youthful passion?
For Harima, who no longer clearly remembered the feelings that had led him to become an investigator, it was a question without an answer.
“I see... Have you eaten dinner? If you're hungry, I'll treat you.”
“Ah, it’s okay. I’m just going to rest a little and head home to prepare for the practical exam.”
After chatting for a while, Hitokawa looked up at the sky, which had fully transitioned into night, and said goodbye.
“Well, I should get going.”
“All right. Keep getting along with my son.”
“Of course. Please give my regards to Koma and the baby, too.”
“...What?”
Harima frowned, sensing something odd, but Hitokawa didn’t notice. He bowed politely and ran toward the train station.
Having missed the chance to stop him, Harima repeated the words he’d just heard under his breath.
“The baby...?”
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