Chained
"In a warehouse where broken chains sing and bodies dissolve, a warrior walks the edge of the abyss, fearing to wake the fury of a voiceless beast."
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The warehouse was a slaughterhouse of shadows; the air was thick with the stink of dried blood and meat. Sounds from outside reached the interior like a grotesque banquet: the crunch of gnawed bones, the tear of flesh wrapped in silk—an endless feast that made the metal walls tremble.
Ayanato Ashida, still inside the red silk cocoon, listened with his heart lodged in his throat. Every time he tried to activate his hemogenic vision, it overloaded, blinding him—his sight swallowed by a flare of RC that burned like staring straight into the sun.
This isn't Rize… he thought, hands shaking as he gripped the broken tip of his Kokuseigu. The cold metal trembled against his gloves. What the hell is out there?
He opened the door with a creak that rang in the silence.
His body tightened, primal instinct screaming at him to brace for combat—
but nothing prepared him for the colossal figure of T-001, the Empress, devouring silk-wrapped bodies.
Her claws tore meat with mechanical brutality, while the broken chains of her heavy suit rattled like metallic mourning. The plate on her chest—engraved with "T-001 Empress"—caught the dim light, and her permanent kakugan burned with primitive rage, a red so intense it looked like it could swallow darkness whole.
Ayanato froze, the broken needle-tip trembling in his hand.
T-001 turned.
Her eyes locked onto him.
Then she crawled forward with a speed that made the floor groan.
Before he could react, the creature slammed him down, crushing him to the ground. Her colossal weight stole his breath. Her face, drenched in fresh blood, hovered inches from his. Fangs glinted—rage that didn't need language.
The air vibrated with the rattle of her chains, a sound sharper than metal.
She's too strong… Ayanato thought, body pinned beneath her. I won't get lucky twice. Stay calm. Don't provoke. Don't—
T-001 sniffed him, hot breath brushing his face—yet the scent of his black blood did not entice her. Her red eyes narrowed, as if assessing prey that wasn't worth the effort.
Ayanato swallowed, heart beating like a trapped animal.
I need her off me.
He forced his voice steady.
"I guess we should introduce ourselves… I'm Ayanato Ashida. And you are?"
The creature tilted her head. Chains clinked.
No answer.
Her eyes studied him with empty animal curiosity, blank of comprehension.
"Can you understand me?" he asked, voice trembling with confusion and caution.
Silence.
Only silk tearing somewhere behind her. Only blood dripping onto the floor.
Her mind's too broken to hear me… he realized, watching how T-001's posture loosened slightly, claws easing. But she's lowering her guard.
"Do you have a name?" he tried again—softer now, buying seconds with words.
T-001 tilted her head again, her metal plate ringing faintly like an echo.
Ayanato's gaze flicked to the torn suit, the snapped chains hanging like shackles from a forgotten experiment.
She's an experiment… and it doesn't look like they treated her like anything human.
Slowly—carefully—he extended a hand toward the creature's red hair, touch trembling.
T-001 snarled.
The sound shook the walls.
Her Rinkaku erupted—four colossal tails slamming into the floor like armored spears.
Ayanato went still, hand frozen mid-air. The air quivered with threat.
"What if we start over?" he whispered. "Would you like… a name?"
The creature tilted her head. Her eyes glimmered with something that looked like curiosity. Maybe anticipation.
Ayanato swallowed.
"…How about Yuri?"
T-001 didn't answer—yet her body relaxed.
The Rinkaku tails drew back slightly.
Then, slowly, she rose off him and returned to the silk-wrapped bodies, tearing into flesh with a wet crunch that echoed through the warehouse.
Ayanato exhaled, body trembling with relief.
She won't attack me—this time.
But I don't have time for this. I need to find Rize. She can't devour every body that fast…
He moved toward the exit, each step calculated not to trigger the creature again. He activated his hemogenic vision, searching for Rize's trail—
but found only a void that squeezed his chest.
"Where are you hiding, Rize?" he whispered, voice heavy with worry. "This isn't funny."
Then his eyes caught a trail of RC—faint, but unmistakable:
Kaneki's—mixed with traces of Rize's.
Confusion hit him like a fist.
"Kaneki…? You're alive?" he murmured, voice shaking. "Why do you have Rize's traces on you? What the hell did you two do?"
He clenched the broken Kokuseigu tip, determination cutting through fear.
And he ran for the exit—
while Yuri's chains clinked behind him like an echo of his own chained heart.
Instinctive Fear
"In alleys of blood and shadow, instinct leads the soulless hunter—where every step is an echo of broken promises and a heart that forgets how to beat."
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The alley was an abyss of blood and shadow, a roof of rusted metal hiding the horrors forming beneath its belly. The air reeked of fresh blood, a stink that soaked the walls and clung to skin like a curse.
Ayanato Ashida followed the RC trail—an invisible red line dragging him into this slaughterhouse.
His footsteps sounded like a funeral drum, each one a heartbeat announcing his arrival.
His red eyes glowed in the gloom as he took in the scene:
Ken Kaneki lay on the ground, bleeding, trembling beneath the weight of a hunger newly awakened.
Over him stood Nishiki Nishio—a weak predator drawn to Rize's scent—wearing arrogance he couldn't afford.
Nishiki turned, eyes flashing when he saw Ayanato.
"Oh, Ayanato," he sneered, voice loaded with contempt. "You show up at the worst time. I've seen you at Anteiku—always quiet. Just some human. Guess I'll crush you before you run to the CCG."
His Bikaku erupted—an azure tail sharp as a blade aimed straight at Ayanato.
Ayanato tilted his head.
A metallic glint flashed from his glove.
A spool inside his sleeve hummed—and a kunai attached to a red thread fired out, rebounding off the alley walls with a hiss.
Threads snapped into place, weaving a crude net that cut the air like barbed wire.
"Are you sure I'm human?" Ayanato asked, voice low and razor-calm—
as his eclipse kakugan ignited, black veins crawling across his face like a living web.
Nishiki stumbled back. His arrogance shattered into fear.
"G… Ghoul Devourer," he stammered. "W-wait, I didn't know they were your prey! We can talk—my taste isn't—"
He didn't finish.
Ayanato vanished in a red flash and reappeared behind him.
Metal claws punched through Nishiki's chest from the back. Bone cracked. Blood exploded onto the asphalt.
Ayanato lifted him, flesh tearing with a wet sound, and hurled him into the wall hard enough to make the alley shudder.
Red threads shot out, pinning Nishiki's arms and legs—hanging him like a broken puppet.
Blood poured down, painting the floor in a carmine pool, while Nishiki coughed, still alive, eyes wide with absolute terror.
"I've had a shit day," Ayanato growled, stepping closer, voice vibrating with contained rage. "And that means I'm not in the mood."
His claws sliced across Nishiki's abdomen—deep—opening him like a bag of meat.
Nishiki screamed. Blood erupted in pulses as he convulsed against the threads.
Ayanato leaned in and took a brutal bite from Nishiki's arm, ripping off flesh with a visceral crunch. Bitter taste filled his mouth.
Nishiki gasped, life dangling by a thread—
but his eyes still flickered with the instinct to survive.
On the ground, Kaneki staggered up.
His single kakugan eye burned, red like a lantern in the dark.
The newborn ghoul hunger devoured him from inside; the scent of fresh blood poisoned his thoughts.
A voice hissed in his skull—soft, venom-sweet:
Do you feel that, Kaneki? The hunger eating your body. Isn't it fascinating? Look at your nii-san—he's already started the feast. Why don't you do the same… with Hide?
Three scarlet tentacles burst from Kaneki's back, whipping wildly with uncontrolled frenzy.
They lunged at Ayanato.
Ayanato twisted at the last second, dodging in a red flash.
"Rize…?" he whispered, confusion cracking his voice.
His claws cut through the air—two tentacles severed with wet crunches, blood spraying the walls.
The third tentacle struck like a whip—
but a red thread snapped taut, slicing it mid-air with a sharp hiss.
Ayanato grabbed Kaneki by the throat, lifting him like a trapped animal.
Kaneki thrashed, punching Ayanato's arm with frantic fury.
"I don't want to hurt you, Kaneki," Ayanato said, voice breaking—yet grip unshakable as steel. "I'm glad you're alive, but you owe me a damn explanation. This is going to hurt me more than you."
He released Kaneki—
and drove a brutal kick into his stomach.
Kaneki coughed blood, body slamming into the wall with a thunderous crack before collapsing unconscious into the carmine puddle.
Ayanato panted, chest shaking with rage and relief.
He turned to Hide, who lay injured but alive, breath thin beneath Nishiki's damage.
Ayanato lifted him carefully and hoisted him over his shoulder—
and then a figure stepped from the shadows.
Touka Kirishima, Anteiku's waitress, stared at him with her kakugan blazing, posture coiled like a spring.
"So you're the Ghoul Devourer," she hissed, disgust dripping from every syllable. "The sick bastard who hangs ghouls in webs right under my nose at Anteiku. How did I not see it?"
Ayanato met her glare, kakugan still burning, red threads vibrating around him like silent threat.
"I was at Anteiku for years, Touka," he replied, voice low and sharp as a blade. "What I do outside its walls isn't your problem. Help… or step aside before I decide whether I feel like tasting you."
Touka clenched her teeth. Her Ukaku trembled behind her.
The air between them tightened like a wire ready to snap—
but Touka's gaze dropped to the mess Nishiki left behind, fury softening when she saw Kaneki and Hide.
"You're not my enemy…" she muttered, distrust still slicing the air, "…for now. But don't think I'll let you get away with everything."
Ayanato didn't answer.
He adjusted Hide on his shoulder and lifted Kaneki with care.
Red threads retracted, leaving Nishiki hanging—alive, but ruined.
The alley fell silent—
only blood dripping remained, a reminder of broken promises still following him like shadows.
Painful Revelation
"In a refuge where the echoes of loss resound, a warrior collapses beneath truths that cut deeper than any needle."
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Anteiku was a fragile sanctuary—where ghouls and humans lived under a truce that smelled like coffee and gentle lies.
But that night, the air was weighted with oppressive silence, as if the building itself held its breath against the pain gathering inside.
Ken Kaneki woke in one of the back beds, a splitting headache hammering his skull while ghoul hunger still burned in his veins.
In the doorway stood Ayanato Ashida, leaning against the frame, metallic claws tapping against wood with an impatience that sounded like an omen.
His red eyes glowed in the dimness like windows into a broken soul.
"Nii-san… what happened?" Kaneki asked, voice trembling, the red of his single kakugan eye flickering with confusion.
Ayanato watched him.
Then his steps began—slow—each one a funeral drum.
He stopped close, and his index finger—ending in a metal claw—pointed straight at Kaneki's kakugan eye.
"You became a ghoul," Ayanato said, voice low and heavy with pain. "Your body is burning with our species' hunger. But there's something you owe me an explanation for."
A chill crawled over Kaneki's skin.
Without warning, Ayanato's claw flicked out—cutting Kaneki's cheek in one clean motion.
A thin line of blood bloomed, glittering under dim light.
Ayanato collected one drop on the claw's tip, staring at it with intensity cold enough to freeze marrow.
Kaneki's wound sealed almost instantly—ghoul regeneration closing skin with impossible speed.
"You have Rize Kamishiro's Rinkaku," Ayanato whispered, fists tightening until claws dug into his palms. "And I can't see her. What happened to Rize?"
Kaneki backed into the wall, terror widening his eyes as Ayanato's eclipse kakugan burned like an abyss.
"She… attacked me in the alley," Kaneki stammered, voice breaking. "She lost consciousness—and when I woke up… they'd done a transplant. I don't know what happened after."
Ayanato lifted a hand to his face, claws hovering, stopping just short of slicing skin.
His eyes dimmed, fury and grief colliding into a storm that threatened to tear him apart.
"Rize…" he said, the name sounding like a piece of his soul being ripped free. "Is she… dead?"
Silence flooded the room, so thick it seemed to swallow light.
Kaneki lowered his head. His voice was almost nothing.
"I'm sorry, nii-san."
The air became unbearable—truth cutting like red thread.
Ayanato trembled, kakugan flaring with madness and pain, black veins pulsing as if his body itself screamed.
"Were you always a ghoul?" Kaneki asked, voice shaking, challenging his own survival. "Why didn't you tell me Rize was one too?"
Ayanato opened a narrow gap between his fingers.
His eclipse kakugan stared at Kaneki—rage and sorrow fused into a void that could devour everything.
With a roar, he slammed his fist into the bedside table, splintering it into flying shards.
"I TOLD YOU!" he shouted, voice shattering like glass. "I told you again and again not to go out with her! I sent black widows—messages—signs—AND EVEN THE DAMNED DESTINY COULDN'T MAKE YOU LISTEN!"
His breath hitched.
"…Just like her."
His chest heaved, fury burning—
but he forced air into his lungs, crushing it back down.
Claws slowly retracted.
He bowed stiffly—a rigid apology that looked like it hurt more than any wound.
"I shouldn't be angry at you," he murmured, voice barely audible, heavy as lead.
He turned toward the door, his silhouette hunched as if carrying the world.
"Where are you going, nii-san?" Kaneki asked, voice trembling with fear and desperation.
Ayanato didn't look back.
His answer cut the air like a guillotine.
"That doesn't matter anymore," he whispered, broken. "I just want to be alone."
He vanished in a red flash, footsteps dissolving into the hallway.
Yoshimura, Anteiku's manager, emerged from the shadows, eyes heavy as he watched Ayanato's trail fade.
He looked from Kaneki to the empty space where Ayanato had stood.
The refuge's silence was now stained with melancholy clinging to the walls like a lament.
No one knew how to heal a wound that bled beyond flesh.
Bygone Purpose
"In an alley where rain weeps and memories bleed, a warrior faces the shadows of his past—where every echo is a knife that cuts the soul."
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Rain fell like a cruel flood, a gray veil drowning the world in silent mourning.
The alley stank of dried blood and rust—an aroma that slid into Ayanato Ashida's lungs like a reminder of the tragedy stalking him.
A twisted steel beam lay scattered on the ground. Its edges were stained with faded red—rain had tried to erase it.
It couldn't.
Ayanato stopped before it, face hollow, red eyes dull beneath guilt that ate him alive.
His black hair, soaked, hung over his face like a shroud. Water dripped from it, mixing with the invisible blood of his memories.
"Rize…" he whispered, voice snapped thin like a broken thread—as if calling her name could drag her back.
He activated his hemogenic vision, searching for a trail he already knew was gone.
The air vibrated with emptiness that squeezed his chest.
He pulled out the broken tip of his Kokuseigu, worn metal gleaming under rain—failure made physical, heavier than any weapon.
"I shouldn't have left you alone," he murmured, words dissolving into the downpour.
Lightning flashed—its shape in the sky like a desperate hand reaching for a god that wouldn't listen.
Cold crawled up Ayanato's spine as his mind sank into a whirlpool of black thoughts.
A figure formed in the rain—
Rize Kamishiro's echo.
Her white dress was stained with blood. She stared at the beam like it was her grave.
"'Do whatever you want, Rize,'" she said, voice a cruel whisper sharper than any kagune. "That was the last thing you told me, wasn't it?"
Ayanato's gaze fell to the ground.
I killed her… he thought, heart collapsing under guilt. My words… were what killed her.
Rize's echo stepped closer, purple hair flowing like a broken river.
"I remember the day we met," she said softly, words still edged enough to split him open. "I attacked you, thinking you were like the other prey. And then I thought… maybe I was wrong."
Ayanato's legs gave out. He dropped to his knees on the asphalt, imaginary black roses crunching beneath him.
Rain struck his face, mixing with tears he couldn't release.
"You remember the day you fought Arima Kishou, don't you, Ayanato?" the echo continued, voice merciless as judgment. "That day I gave you part of me so you would live. Looks like you couldn't do the same for me."
Every word was a nail driven into his soul.
Ayanato lifted his gaze to the broken sky, rain falling like blades.
Another figure emerged—
Himari Ashida's specter.
Her eyes were empty wells—lifeless, bottomless.
"Big brother…" she whispered, voice piercing straight through the heart. "You had a second chance and you failed. Come with us."
Himari reached out a hand—
and though she was only hallucination, Ayanato felt the touch.
Cold.
Real.
Shredding.
He raised the broken Kokuseigu tip and pressed it to his throat. Metal drew a thin line of black blood that mixed with rain.
One motion—
and everything would end.
"Rest, onii-chan," Himari whispered, lament inviting him into the void.
But Rize's specter seized his hand—stopping him with a strength that shouldn't exist.
Her voice softened. The cruel edge faded into warmth that hurt more.
"I don't want you to die, Ayanato," she said, amethyst eyes shining with sorrow that mirrored his. "You still haven't found my body. Look for me. Find me—wherever I am."
A pause.
Her voice thinned into wind.
"Alive… or dead."
The hallucinations dissolved, leaving only rain and the weight of her words.
Ayanato stood, legs trembling. The cut on his throat sealed itself with regeneration that did nothing to soothe the pain inside his soul.
He looked at the beam one last time—
and something glinted inside it.
Rize's broken glasses—caught between twisted metal.
He took them. The shards nicked his fingers, but no blood came.
He clenched them hard, letting the pain anchor him to the world.
"Wherever you are, Rize," he swore, voice cracking but firm, "alive or dead—I will find you. Or I'll die trying."
He paused, staring at the lenses.
"And I will never leave you alone again."
He remained under the rain, horizon blurred, time freezing into a silence that weighed like eternity.
Then he vanished in a red flash—toward the CCG—leaving the alley empty.
Minutes later, Kaneki arrived, soaked silhouette emerging from the shadows. He stared at the silence, at the broken beam's echo, and whispered—
"Nii-san… what are you going to do?"
The alley didn't answer.
Only the rain kept falling—
crying for a warrior carrying a purpose as heavy as his past.