The realization that she was fundamentally different from her father began with a single, trivial act.
Eto remembered that day with haunting clarity. She had lunged into her father's arms as he returned from work, as she always did. He had offered a weary smile, looking troubled as he mentioned he was covered in sweat and probably smelled. But Eto didn't find the scent unpleasant. On the contrary, the more his scent permeated the air, the more something seemed to swell within her heart.
It was just a day like any other. A typical display of spoiled affection. There was even a hint of a child's mischievous urge to see her father flustered.
She bit his arm. Gently. Or at least, she thought it was gently.
In that instant, Eto's body slipped from her control.
𝘊𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩!!!
A sound erupted—one that could never result from a mere "gentle" nibble. An exquisite rapture, unlike anything she had ever known, surged through her. The taste was worlds apart from the "meat" her father usually brought home. Eto felt as though she had been plunged into a stupor, intoxicated by a potent liquor.
Oblivious to the origin of that sound, she chewed and swallowed the substance of pure pleasure that flooded her mouth. In response, a hot sigh rose from deep within her lungs. A dangerous, dizzying allure—entirely misplaced on a five-year-old—shrouded her form.
Then, she snapped back to reality.
Before her eyes was a literal pool of blood staining the floor. Her father had slumped to the ground, clutching his arm, his teeth gritted into his lip so hard it bled as he struggled to endure the agony.
What…? Uh...?
Did I... did I do this?
Did I... eat... Papa?
Confusion reigned. She could not believe that the person who had wounded her father—the person who, moments ago, had been savoring his flesh—was truly herself. As Eto collapsed into a fit of wailing, her father approached her, suppressing his pain.
—It's okay.
He wrapped his good arm around her head, hiding his suffering and speaking in his usual, steady tone. He stroked her hair, repeating over and over that it was alright. Eto cried in his arms until she fell into an exhausted sleep.
When she woke, the house was clean and orderly, as if the whole ordeal had been a dream. Her father was in the kitchen, cooking as he always did.
Was it really just a dream?
No. Her father's right arm—the place where Eto had bitten him—was wrapped in bandages.
To the girl who remained trapped in confusion, her father finally told her the truth. That she was an existence known as a 'Ghoul.' A being that could not live without consuming human flesh. That if people found out what she was, they would hate her. And that she would draw the attention of the ghouls' 'Natural Enemies.'
Her father made her promise never to tell anyone she was a ghoul. He told her that if she did, they might be separated forever. Eto kept that promise. She didn't want to lose him. She didn't want to be hated.
If anyone ever found out... their mouth had to be silenced. At all costs.
That was why she had revealed her identity to the woman on the cliff. To back herself into a corner. To find the courage to push the woman into the abyss with her own hands. To witness 'Death' with her own eyes.
"...."
"...."
Silence hung heavy. The woman stared at Eto, seemingly unaware that her cigarette had burned down to the filter.
What kind of reaction would follow? The best outcome for Eto was for the woman to dismiss it as a child's prank. If she lowered her guard, Eto's surprise attack would be guaranteed to succeed.
"A ghoul... I see."
𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬. 𝘍𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩...
That was it. The woman tossed the spent butt away and pulled out a fresh cigarette; that was the extent of her reaction. She wasn't panicked, nor did she deny Eto's words as a lie. She simply 'accepted' it and moved on. Eto was the one left flustered by the unexpected response.
"You don't believe me?"
"No, I believe you. At the very least, I don't think you're lying. After all..."
The woman held the cigarette, pointing the tip toward Eto's hand.
"I don't think a hand would tremble that much over a simple prank."
"...!"
Eto hadn't even noticed that her own hands were shaking piteously. She steeled herself. It's fine. A ghoul's physical strength is immense, even for a child. She was strong enough to win an arm-wrestling match against her father (assuming he hadn't let her win). All she had to do was push with both hands.
She would kill this woman and see the thing that was eating away at her father with her own eyes. She would take it with her. She would not let him shoulder the burden alone anymore.
The woman watched the child, whose aura had become unnervingly serious, and spoke.
"Are you going to kill me?"
"Have you suddenly decided you want to live?"
"Not really. I don't have the courage to end my own life, so if someone else does it for me, I have nothing to complain about."
The woman simply drew on her cigarette, acting as though she didn't care what Eto did to her. Eto found her strange. She had thought that the instinct to struggle for survival in the face of death was a fundamental trait of all living things—especially humans. Was she acting just so she could find a gap to escape?
Eto did not lower her guard. Regardless, the woman kept talking, as if she simply wanted to chat.
"But why did you come alone? Even ghouls have parents, don't they?"
"...My parent is human."
"...Wow. Really?"
The woman was stunned into silence, appearing more shocked by this than the revelation that Eto was a ghoul.
"You've got quite the story. A human raising a ghoul... your parent must be going through hell."
𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘣.
If those words had been intended to create an opening for escape, they would have been successful. But even as Eto wavered, the woman made no move to run.
"Sorry. I touched a nerve, didn't I...?"
Instead, she apologized, blaming her own lack of tact for upsetting the child. That apology made tears well up in Eto's eyes. Seeing this, the woman stepped down from the guardrail and approached her.
𝘑𝘰𝘭𝘵!
Eto reflexively took a defensive stance, but the woman reached out anyway, acting as though she didn't care if she were attacked. Her hand came to rest on Eto's head, stroking her hair.
"...."
Eto was tense at first, but soon leaned into the touch. Unlike her father's gentle hands, these were rough and unrefined. Yet, they carried a similar sense of 'affection.'
"...I see. So that's why you came here alone. Because your parent is human and you're a ghoul. He's been providing your food all this time. You hated seeing him suffer because of it, didn't you?"
Eto nodded.
"Is that so? You're a dutiful daughter. But I can't say it's a wise decision. You can't truly know how cruel the world we live in is just by looking at a piece of meat on a dinner table. You have to go to a slaughterhouse and witness the cows and pigs being killed and dismembered to realize that we, too, are part of a brutal nature. But you're far too young to be learning just how cruel the world is."
Eto wiped her tears and looked up at the woman. She could feel a sincere concern in the woman's advice—as if she were the mother Eto had never known.
"Your parent wouldn't want this. It would leave a scar on your immature heart that would never heal."
"I don't care."
Eto did not back down, stating her resolve clearly.
"Papa is bearing the wounds I'm supposed to receive. His heart is covered in scars. I don't want that. If I have to be wounded someday, I'll take it now. I won't let any more scars pile up on top of his."
"...You're a brave one. Then, there's nothing for it."
The woman retracted her hand and stood up, opening her cigarette pack.
"Only one left. Mind waiting until I finish this?"
"...?"
As Eto tilted her head, the woman lit the cigarette and took a deep drag.
𝘍𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩...
Watching the smoke vanish into the air, the woman suddenly spoke.
"Me? I had an abortion."
"Abortion...?"
It was a word Eto didn't know. But for some reason, the woman's voice as she spoke it felt unbearably sad.
"It means I erased a baby. I used to be a real piece of work. I lived a reckless life without a thought for the future, and I finally messed up. I got pregnant by a man I didn't even know, and my parents forced me to get rid of it. They asked how I could possibly raise a baby whose father I didn't even know."
𝘍𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩...
"But you know... since the day I erased that baby, I haven't had a single day of peace. It feels as though a part of my heart was erased along with it. Every time I see someone else's child, I think of the baby I destroyed. That feeling never went away, not even after all these years. 'Ah, if I hadn't erased that child, they would have been about this big by now. If they were still alive, they would have grown to be about that age...' I'd think."
𝘍𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘧𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩...
"It was about five or six years ago... so if I had become that child's mother, they would have been exactly your age."
The woman looking at Eto wasn't crying. But to Eto's eyes, it seemed as though she were. As if she had cried so much, day after day, that the tears had run dry, leaving only an invisible sorrow to flow down her cheeks.
"Ah..."
Just as Eto was about to speak, the woman tossed the final cigarette aside and offered a smile.
"I'll give you my 'death' as a gift."
"...!!"
The woman spread her arms wide and leaned back over the guardrail, as if she were lying down onto a bed.
"It will be painful and agonizing... but live on with strength."
Before Eto could react—
Smiling peacefully, as if she had finally set down a heavy burden—
She vanished beneath the edge of the cliff.