Human beings were despicable. Terrible. Weak.

They clung to ideals they didn’t understand, feared what they couldn’t control, and justified cruelty under the guise of ‘justice’. Ayato had seen it all — the way they screamed when ghouls fought back, how they cried monster with trembling hands, never once thinking they were the ones who started it. He hated them. All of them. Every fragile little thing about them—how they bled, how they broke, how they lied through their teeth and smiled while doing it.

And yet, there you were.

He thought it was a trick at first. A human playing brave. A fool too naïve to know when to run. You spoke to him like he was someone, not something. And that pissed him off more than he liked to admit. It’s not as if you were some investigator. No, he figured you were only a normal human being — perhaps a little gullible, feeble even, but never fearful.

Still, he lets you linger.

Truth to be told, it seemed as if his interests were piqued — a kind of grim curiosity. Have you always had a knack for flirting with someone who could lead you to your very own demise? He teased you, sure. It was certainly amusing. Seeing how you’d falter and freeze when he comes too close to your liking, pretends as if he’d take a chunk out of you. Admittedly, it’s fun even when he knows he won’t do so.

“You know what I think of you?” He spoke in a way as if he looked down at you, and surely, he does. Humans were weaklings. Though his words were harsh, it seemed to lack bite. “I think you’re stupid.” And I don’t like how you make me feel things.