"I'm heading out now."
"Okay! Take care, Papa!"
I tied my laces, stood up, and offered a farewell. Eto gave me a vigorous wave, seeing me off with plenty of energy.
It was time for my part-time job—the most uncomfortable part of my day. It wasn't the work itself that bothered me, but the fact that I had to leave Eto home alone. Regardless of her being a ghoul, she was still just a five-year-old girl. Leaving her by herself always made my feet feel like lead. But if I didn't work, we couldn't eat. It was a constant dilemma.
It wasn't that I was completely broke. In fact, if I truly wanted to, I wouldn't have to work these tedious jobs at all. My bank account held enough to not only survive but perhaps even start a small business of my own.
But I refuse to touch that money. I 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 touch it.
It's the inheritance Father left behind. I can't just waste it.
That money is for Eto's education when she eventually goes to school. I have to protect it until then. Consequently, I'm forced to stick to this impoverished lifestyle. While the work isn't particularly grueling, the feeling of my heart thinning alongside my wallet every time the balance drops is truly wretched.
Anyway, that's why I started working part-time a few months ago. Originally, I planned to focus on side jobs I could do from home, but Eto grew into a much more sensible girl than I anticipated, allowing me to trust her with the apartment for a few hours.
Fortunately, there hadn't been any major incidents while she was home alone, but... my heart still grows heavy whenever I imagine her playing by herself in a cramped room when she should be out running around.
But Eto always smiled brightly, as if to blow those worries away. Seeing her grin, the discomfort in my chest eased slightly, and I spoke.
"I ask you this every time, but what do you do if a stranger comes by?"
"I never open the door!"
"And if that person forces their way in?"
"I scream or call the police! The number is 110!"
Good. She had it memorized perfectly. I crouched down to meet her eyes and asked one more.
"And if that person tries to do something bad to our Eto?"
"I kick them in the crotch!"
"With what force?"
"Until it ruptures! Until it's torn off! Until it's beyond resuscitation! With everything I've got!"
Okay, no problems there.
A strike to the groin delivered with ghoul strength... as a man, the mental image was terrifying, but anyone trying to lay a hand on Eto deserves it. Honestly, I'd rather be the one delivering the blow myself.
"Don't forget to call me immediately if anything happens, okay?"
"I won't!"
I gave Eto one last lingering look of concern before stepping out. As soon as I heard the click of the lock from the inside, I hurried to the elevator. I needed to finish work and get back to her as fast as possible.
Once the apartment fell silent, Eto looked around the empty space. The quiet one feels when alone is on a different level than the quiet when someone else is there.
From a nearby playground, she could hear the sounds of children playing. For Eto, who could not 'yet' go out and join them, this house was her only playground, her sanctuary... and a prison born from a world that rejected her.
The silence, which seemed heavy enough to crush a child's fragile heart, lasted only a moment.
"Well! I have to be a good girl until Papa comes back!"
Eto was resilient.
First, she considered reading and looked over the books she had borrowed from the library. She really wanted to read the one about 'Sophisticated Women,' but she was disappointed that Papa hadn't allowed it. As her eyes darted around for something else to do, she spotted an interesting toy.
A long stick with fluffy threads bundled at the end. It was a cleaning tool—a duster—but in Eto's eyes, it was a toy. Her eyes lit up like a cat spotting foxtail grass.
"Cleaning♪ Cleaning♪"
Eto began dusting the house, imitating the way she remembered Papa doing it. 𝘛𝘢𝘱, 𝘵𝘢𝘱 on the desk. 𝘛𝘢𝘱, 𝘵𝘢𝘱 on the TV. 𝘛𝘢𝘱, 𝘵𝘢𝘱 on the bookshelf.
"I'll make things clean for you too, Grandpa!"
𝘛𝘢𝘱, 𝘵𝘢𝘱 against the altar holding Harima Takaki's tablet and photo. Perhaps it was because the ash from the incense drifted in the air, but Harima's face in the photo seemed to contort as if he were saying, 'That's quite enough.'
Thinking about how Papa would praise her for the clean house when he returned, Eto began to swing the duster with even more gusto.
And that was when the accident happened.
𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳!
The sound of something breaking. It was a physical sound, but it was also the sound of Eto's dream of being praised by Papa crumbling away.
"...."
The smile that had braved the harsh silence finally cracked. Turning pale, she slowly looked down to see a plate that had been knocked off the shelf by the duster, now cruelly pulverized on the floor.
This plate... she knew it had been brought from Grandpa's house after he passed away. She remembered Papa smiling bittersweetly, saying, "He kept the things Mother used all this time..." while carefully polishing it over and over.
Eto panicked.
Setting aside the fear of being scolded, she had broken something precious to Papa! She looked around desperately for help, but there was no one there. Was it just her imagination, or did the eyes in Grandpa's photo seem to look away?
Eto scrambled to find a solution. I should clean it up first, right? Where do I put it? Should I hide it in the flowerpot?
Just as Eto decided the flowerpot was the best place and went to grab a broom, she recalled a sentence from a novel she had read—the same one her father had thought of once before.
「𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺.」
𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬.
"Ah, Eto, I'm sorry, I forgot my bike keys. Could you get them for—"
It was a timing so exquisite it made one resent the existence of fate. Papa had returned. Having unlocked the door and stepped in, he saw the frozen Eto holding a broom and the shards of the plate scattered across the floor. He understood the situation instantly.
"Eto!"
𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩!
Seeing Papa rush into the house without even taking off his shoes, Eto squeezed her eyes shut. She expected to be yelled at, but the voice that reached her wasn't one of anger.
"Are you okay!? You're not hurt, are you!?"
Papa grabbed Eto's hands to inspect them. He looked paler and more frantic than Eto had been when she first broke the plate. Seeing him like that made a lump form in her throat, a mix of surprise and guilt.
"I-I'm sorry.... I broke... the precious plate...."
"It's fine. You're definitely not hurt?"
Eto rubbed her eyes and nodded. Relieved, Papa let out a sigh and sat down. But perhaps because he was still too worried about Eto to pay attention to his surroundings, he accidentally placed his hand right where a small shard had fallen. It sliced deep into his palm.
He winced at the stinging pain.
"𝘎𝘩...."
"A-Papa! Are you okay!?"
Eto was more startled now than when the plate had shattered as she checked Papa's wound. Papa pulled the shard from his palm as if it were nothing. A bead of blood welled up and began to trail down his hand.
"It's fine, just a little—... Eto?"
Papa's expression suddenly froze as he looked at her. Eto shrank back, wondering if he was finally angry about the plate after all.
Papa watched her for a moment before speaking very carefully.
"...Are you hungry right now?"
𝘑𝘰𝘭𝘵!
Her heart skipped a beat. Fighting the panic in her chest, Eto shook her head.
"N-No! I'm not hungry! I ate a lot for breakfast!"
"...."
Papa offered a cryptic look for a moment before standing up. Then, he put on his usual smile and stroked Eto's hair.
"I'll clean up the shards and make you something to eat. Just wait a bit."
"N-No! Really, I'm not hungry!"
She didn't want him to cook. She didn't fully understand the meaning behind 'it,' but she knew what happened every time Papa prepared a meal for her.
However, Papa only gave a wry smile, said nothing, and headed toward the kitchen after clearing the shards. Why? Eto wondered.
Then, her eyes happened to catch her reflection in the mirror.
...Right. It was because of this.
Seeing herself in the glass, Eto understood.
At the sight of Papa's flowing blood, her right eye had changed.
A crimson iris set against a pitch-black void.
Eto glared at her own reflection with loathing.
Instinctively, for a fleeting fraction of a second she hadn't even consciously recognized...
She had looked at her father through the eye of a ghoul—and seen 'food.'