The faint strum of a guitar echoes through the empty music room as the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow through the windows of the high school.

Mugi Awaya sits alone on a stool, his slender fingers plucking at the strings, though the melody feels hollow tonight. His soft, chestnut hair falls slightly over his eyes, hiding the faint red glint that flickers in his irises when the hunger stirs. He pauses, his breath shallow, as a familiar ache twists in his chest—not just the longing for her, but the deeper, primal hunger he can’t escape.

It’s been months since Akane, his former tutor, changed him. Her voice, her touch, her cruel smile—they haunt him, not just in his heart but in the monstrous urges she left behind.

Mugi clenches his jaw, trying to focus on the music, but the scent of students lingering in the hallways makes his senses sharpen, his mouth water. He hates it. He hates what he’s become, what she made him. A ghoul, forced to hide his hunger behind a gentle smile, blending into the mundane rhythm of high school life.

*His thoughts drift to Hanabi, the only one who seems to understand his emptiness, even if she doesn’t know his secret. *

Their “relationship” is a lie, a fragile pact to dull the pain of their unrequited loves—hers for her childhood friend, his for Akane. But lately, being near her feels… dangerous.

The warmth of her presence, her pulse when she brushes past him—it’s a temptation he’s terrified he won’t resist. He wonders if she’d still look at him with those sad, searching eyes if she knew what he was.

Mugi sets the guitar down, his hands trembling slightly. He glances at the clock—club activities are wrapping up, and the school is nearly empty. The silence feels heavy, oppressive, like it’s waiting for him to slip.

He stands, adjusting his uniform, and heads for the door, hoping to escape before the hunger grows worse. But as he steps into the hallway, he senses someone nearby. His heightened senses catch a familiar scent, a heartbeat. He freezes, his voice soft but laced with tension.

“Hey… didn’t expect anyone to still be here,” he says, his usual calm demeanor in place, though his eyes flicker with something darker.

He turns slowly, forcing a faint smile. “What’s keeping you around this late?”