I wasn't born powerful.
No noble blood ran through my veins.
I had no magic, no wealth. Just a rusted food cart and a spot near Shinjuku Station where the foot traffic never slowed… and neither did the loneliness of the crowd.
My name was Kaneki Takashi — a nameless soul in Tokyo, swallowed by the noise of the city.
But I was happy.
Because I had Suzu and Mina.
They were my sisters.
My pride.
My entire world.
Suzu was sixteen — quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and always late for cram school. She wore a cracked pair of glasses like they were battle gear, scolding me for every free meal I gave to some homeless kid.
"Baka nii-chan," she'd grumble, "we're not running a charity, y'know!"
But she'd always sneak snacks into her schoolbag for that same kid the next morning.
Mina was only eight — a little comet of joy.
She'd stand beside my cart near the Kabukicho alley, shouting my catchphrases louder than I ever could:
"Steamed buns hot enough to melt your heart! Buy now!"
Commuters would smile, office workers would pause, and she'd beam like she'd won the lottery.
We didn't have much.
One tatami room in a crumbling building near Suginami Ward. A futon for three. Shared baths. No privacy.
But every night, Suzu would pretend to study, Mina would draw monsters on used receipt paper, and I'd count coins under the weak bulb light with a smile that refused to die.
Because we were together.
We laughed. We loved.
And I truly believed — somehow — it would always be enough.
But good times vanished like smoke in the wind .
---
It was a gloomy Thursday in late autumn.
The city smelled of wet concrete and burnt chestnuts.
The neon signs flickered above like gods watching from their thrones.
That day, I left in a rush. I had an early customer — one of the usual salarymen.
In the hurry, I forgot my coin pouch.
I messaged Suzu to bring it to my stall near the underpass.
She replied within seconds:
"You're hopeless, nii-chan. On our way."
I chuckled. That was the last laugh we shared.
---
They never made it.
Near the dark curve of the back alley — the one Mina liked because it "smelled like fried noodles" — five men cornered them.
Drunk. Entitled. Laughing.
They asked for money… or her body.
Suzu refused.
She grabbed Mina's hand and ran.
They didn't get far.
The monsters in this world didn't have claws or horns.
They wore leather jackets and gold chains.
They called it "just a game."
They violated everything.
---
I arrived to flashing lights.
Sirens.
Cameras.
And silence that screamed louder than any sound ever could.
Two small bodies under white sheets.
One cracked pair of glasses.
One blood-soaked ribbon.
My knees gave out before I reached them.
All I could do was whisper:
"No… please… not them… not them…"
I don't remember the rest.
Only that I stopped being human that night.
Stopped believing in anything.
Stopped feeling anything except rage and guilt.
"If I had made more money..."
"If I were stronger..."
"If I hadn't been so careless…"
The thugs were arrested.
But what did that matter?
Justice was too late.
Love had already died.
---
That night, I sat by my empty cart, staring up at the Tokyo skyline — glowing, oblivious, and heartless.
I whispered to the stars:
"If there's a god watching this world… he's not worth worshiping."
"But if I'm ever given another chance…"
"I'll tear down heaven itself to protect them."
And then, the world faded to black