"I'm heading out, then."
"Okay. Have a good shift~!"
As I tied my shoes sitting at the entrance, Eto stood up, raised her hand bravely, and saw me off.
It was the most uncomfortable time of day: time to head to my part-time job.
It's not that working itself was uncomfortable, but the fact that I was leaving Eto alone at home made it so.
Leaving Eto alone when she's only five, whether or not she's a Ghoul, weighs heavily on my heart. But if I don't work, I can't make a living. A real dilemma.
It's not that I don't have any money. Actually, if I really wanted to, I could avoid this hassle.
There's enough in my bank account not just to cover my daily needs, but even to start my own business.
But I won't spend that money. I don't want to.
That money was Dad's inheritance; I can't just spend it recklessly.
I'll reserve it for Eto's education when she goes to school. Until then, I need to save it.
So I'm stuck maintaining this impoverished lifestyle.
Part-time work itself isn't hard, but every time my wallet gets thinner, I feel my heart squeezing. It's awful.
Anyway, that's why I started this part-time job a few months ago.
I originally planned to focus on side work at home, but Eto turned out to be a far more capable little girl than I'd expected, so I could trust her and leave the house.
Fortunately, nothing major has happened while Eto has been watching the house alone... but thinking of her, who should be running and playing, staying cooped up in her room makes my chest ache.
Still, Eto, as if to blow away my worries, was smiling cheerfully.
A small laugh escaped me, and my discomfort faded, so I spoke.
"Like I always say, if a stranger comes..."
"You must never open the door!"
"What if they force their way in?"
"Scream or call the police! The number is 110!"
Good, she remembered well.
I crouched to meet her eyes and asked further.
"What if they come in and try to do something awful to you?"
"I'll kick them right in the groin!"
"How hard?"
"Hard enough to rupture it! Hard enough to rip it out! Hard enough to make resuscitation impossible! With all my strength!"
Okay, no problem.
The image of a five-year-old Ghoul girl delivering a devastating blow to a man's groin is horrifying from a male perspective, but anyone who tries to harm Eto deserves it. Actually, I want to kick them myself.
"Don't forget to call me right away if anything happens, okay?"
"Okay~!"
I lingered a moment, still worried, watching Eto before stepping out the front door.
As soon as I closed the door and heard her lock it from the inside, I hurried to the elevator.
I have to finish work quickly and get back to Eto.
Eto looked around the house, which had gone quiet as soon as Dad left.
The stillness felt when she was alone was of another dimension compared to when they were together.
She could hear children playing at the nearby playground. For Eto, who still couldn't go out and join them, this house was her only playground, her nest… and almost like a prison the world had built by rejecting her.
For a moment, the oppressive silence, as if to crush a child's tender heart, lingered.
"Well then! I'll stay on my best behavior until Dad gets back!"
Eto was spirited.
First, she thought she'd read. She looked through the books she'd borrowed from the library last time. There was one about mature women and such she really wanted to read, but Dad wouldn't let her, which was disappointing.
As she moved her eyes to choose a book, something that looked like a fun toy caught her eye.
It was a cleaning tool called a feather duster—a long rod with fluffy tassels at the end. To Eto, it was no different from a toy. Her eyes shone like a cat spotting grass seeds.
"Cleaning~♪ Cleaning~♪"
Eto, recalling how Dad would clean, went around dusting here and there.
She tapped the desk, tapped the TV, tapped the bookshelf.
"I'll clean grandpa's things too!"
She dusted the memorial tablet and photo of Takaki Harima on the family altar.
But perhaps because the burnt incense had left ashes scattered, the face in Harima's photo looked twisted, as if saying, "You don't need me anymore."
Hoping that Dad would praise her when he saw how clean the house was after he returned, Eto began swinging the duster even harder.
That's when an accident happened.
Crash!
A shattering sound.
It was not only the sound of something breaking but also the sound of Eto's fantasy of being praised crashing down.
Despite the harsh silence, for the first time, a crack appeared in Eto's smiling face.
Her face turned pale as she slowly turned her gaze, seeing the plate that she'd struck with the duster moments ago, had fallen from the shelf, and been brutally destroyed.
Eto recalled how Dad had, with a bitter smile, carefully cleaned that plate over and over, saying, "You still had Mom's things…"
Eto panicked.
It wasn't just about being scolded by Dad; she had broken something precious to him!
Eto looked around as if seeking help, but there was no one to see her. The only face she met was Grandpa's photo, which seemed to have averted its gaze—is that just her imagination?
Panic-stricken, she tried to figure out a way out.
She decided it would be best to clean up first. Where could she hide it? Maybe in a plant pot?
As Eto fetched a broom, she recalled a line from a novel she'd read, much like how Dad might have once recalled them:
"Misfortune always strikes without warning."
Click.
"Ah, Eto, sorry, but I forgot my bicycle key. Could you bring it to me…?"
It was Dad returning at a timing so perfect it made her resent the very idea of fate.
He unlocked the door and came in. In moments, he saw Eto frozen, broom in hand, and the shattered plate shards scattered on the floor. That alone let him roughly grasp the situation.
"Eto!"
Flinch!
Seeing Dad dash inside without taking off his shoes, Eto squeezed her eyes shut.
She thought she'd be scolded, but what came was not a furious voice.
"Are you okay!? You're not hurt, right!?"
Dad grabbed Eto's hand to check. His face looked even paler and more anxious than Eto had been when she broke the plate.
The sight surprised her, and guilt welled up under her eyes.
"I-I'm sorry… I broke something precious…"
"It's okay. You're not hurt, right?"
Eto rubbed her eyes and nodded.
Hearing that, Dad sighed in relief and sat down. But perhaps because he'd lost focus for a moment…
He picked up the shards nearby and accidentally cut his palm.
The sting made him squint one eye.
"Ugh…"
"D-Dad! Are you okay!?"
Eto, more startled than when the plate broke, looked at Dad's wound.
Dad, as if it was nothing, removed the shard stuck in his palm. A droplet of blood welled up between the cuts.
"This much is okay… Eto?"
When Dad turned to Eto, his expression suddenly froze.
What was it? Did he finally get angry about the plate? Eto shrank.
Dad looked at her, then carefully opened his mouth.
"…Are you hungry right now?"
Flinch!
Her heart plummeted.
Eto shook her head, trying to calm her panicking chest.
"N-No! I'm not hungry! I ate plenty of breakfast!"
"…"
Dad cast a momentary unreadable look, then got to his feet.
He gave Eto his usual gentle smile and patted her head.
"I'll clean up these shards and make us a meal. Wait there."
"N-No! Really, I'm not hungry!"
Eto didn't want Dad to start cooking.
She couldn't pinpoint exactly what that meant, but she knew what happened every time Dad made his meals.
But Dad just gave a wry smile and said nothing. He cleared the plate shards and then headed to the kitchen.
Why? Eto muttered to herself, then suddenly glanced at the mirror.
'…Ah, that's why.'
Looking at herself in the mirror, Eto understood.
Watching Dad's blood drip, her right eye had changed.
The sclera was black, the iris a deep crimson like blood—a Kakugan.
Eto glared at it with hatred.
In that split second—so fleeting she barely registered it—her kakugan looked upon her own father as 'food'…