Nile stared down over the rooftop edge, watching as Rize's body slammed against the pavement below.
She didn't die.
Didn't even look especially injured.
Just annoyed.
Maybe amused.
He had a feeling she wouldn't bother chasing him—not yet. She probably knew he'd be long gone before she could climb her way back up. And truthfully, he wasn't taking chances.
Instead of heading down the fire escape, Nile jumped rooftop to rooftop, moving fast and low, slipping through the shadows like a frightened animal. His body ached. His limbs burned. But he didn't stop. Not until ten full minutes passed and he was sure he'd put enough distance between them.
Finally, when his lungs couldn't take it anymore, he descended onto a quiet side street.
Tokyo felt... alien.
People walked around like nothing was wrong. Neon lights buzzed. Taxis passed. Students laughed on corners. And yet, it all felt wrong.
He didn't recognize the streets themselves—but through the haze of borrowed memories and manga panels, he started to piece things together.
His head throbbed. The memories weren't his—but fragments of Kaneki's life were bleeding into his mind now. Little flashes. Bookshelves. Quiet cafes. The layout of a certain street corner.
He winced and rubbed his temples.
It hurts... .
One image came through clearly: the location of Kaneki's apartment.
So he followed it.
He kept his head down and moved through the crowds until he reached a modest apartment block tucked between two larger complexes. He climbed the stairwell slowly, breathing hard. Each step reminded him how wrecked his body still was.
Third floor. Fourth door on the left.
He slid the key into the lock—it still worked—and stepped inside.
The place was... silent.
Clean.
The apartment was small: one narrow hallway leading to a main living space. A single futon tucked neatly against the wall. A shelf of books arranged alphabetically. A tiny kitchenette with spotless counters. No dishes or clutter.
did ken really live in this barren waste land of a room thought Nile chuckling to himself.
the walls were painted white, no ornaments in sight.
He stood in the doorway, eyes scanning the space.
"Jesus," he muttered.
It felt sterile, almost like no one had ever even lived here, even though Nile knew Ken had. . Not even a calendar on the wall.
If I was living here... the whole thing would be covered with crap. Posters, action figures, maybe a punching bag in the corner. He sighed. This just feels like a prison cell with better lighting.
He walked slowly toward the bathroom and pushed the door open.
There, above the sink, was a mirror.
He stepped closer.
And froze.
Kaneki's face stared back at him.
His hair was a messy black mop—thin, soft-looking, but unkempt. His features were sharp but boyish. Big eyes, pale skin, slightly sunken cheeks.
But what stood out most was how... small he was.
Scrawny. Slender. Shorter than he remembered being. Not dangerously underweight, but not far off either. He looked like a bookworm who hadn't eaten a proper meal in days.
"Why did I..." Nile whispered. "Why did I have to be transmigrated?"
He pressed his palms against the sink and leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"Why did it have to be Ken fucking Kaneki of all people?"
He gritted his teeth and squeezed the sides of his head, then scratched the back of his neck hard enough to sting.
His reflection didn't flinch.
Just stared.
He took a breath, then spoke to himself.
"I think... I think I'm going to be vulnerable for a while."
He ran a finger down his arm, following the line where the black tendrils had healed him.
"I feel stronger than I was before. But I'm still no match for most ghouls. Not yet."
The cuts and bruises from earlier were almost gone. Healed in hours—not days. Much faster than anything a human could do.
But not as fast as a ghoul.
Not even close.
He looked himself in the eye again.
"I can't survive like this. Not with just a few fusion points and a pinky's worth of symbiote."
His gaze hardened.
"I might have to join the CCG to get a quinque."
The thought hung in the air, heavy with tension.
"Either that... or I become a half-ghoul. But that boat already sailed"
He straightened up and clenched his fists.