Afternoon sunlight pours through Anteiku's clean glass windows, laying warm patches of light across the floor.
The air is rich with the aroma of freshly ground coffee and the sweet scent of pastries, while lazy, llow jazz ripples like water.
The shop is full.
People speak in low voices, savoring a rare stretch of leisure.
Kaya Irimi, in a neat server's uniform and a gentle smile, deftly sets down cups with delicate latte art. The forr SS-rated ghoul once called "Black Dog" now balances a tray with steady hands—graceful and professional.
Behind the counter, Renji Yomo polishes glasses with ticulous care. The ex-"Crow," once an SS-rated ghoul bristling with edge, now keeps all that sharpness sheathed; there's even a trace of everyday peace between his brows. From ti to ti he looks up at the others busy in the shop, and a barely noticeable warmth flickers in his eyes.
The custors are a mix of types.
By the window sits a tall, resolute man—Kotaro Amon. A black coffee before him, he is absorbed in… a cookbook? The CCG's forr model investigator seems to have found a new direction in life. He nods politely to Uta-san, the forr ghoul quietly reading not far away; Uta returns a faint, friendly smile.
Hatred, hunts, fear—the mories tied to "ghouls" and the "CCG" have been gently erased like graphite under an eraser. What remains of the world is a blurred backdrop and the settled traits and feelings of individuals. It's as if soone hit reset—yet kindly left intact the bonds worth cherishing.
In a quieter corner booth, the mood is a little more complicated.
Touka Kirishima cradles a steaming cup of milk tea. Taking in the almost dreamlike calm of the shop, her eyes are complicated. She murmurs, like a sigh, "I never thought we'd get to have a normal day like this."
Not long ago, this was a refuge for ghouls; an investigator might flicker past the window at any mont; the air was thick with tension and the gnawing hunger for flesh.
Now the sun is bright, the coffee sweet, and everyone's face looks easy.
All of it traces back to that golden Grail hanging in the night sky—and the three wishes made by Eto Yoshimura, Kuzen Yoshimura, and Kishou Arima.
RC cells vanished completely, and every ghoul beca an ordinary human. All knowledge of ghouls and the CCG was wiped from the world's mory. Those hidden sources of evil—the Washuu clan pulling the CCG's strings, the sadistic "Gecko" Yamori, the insanely fanatical Nimura Furuta, and others—anyone whose heart inclined toward evil received judgnt in that night's light and slipped quietly from the world.
The world was cleansed top to bottom.
No more ghouls.
No more endless hunts and flights.
Across from Touka, Eto Yoshimura lifts a white porcelain cup and takes a delicate sip. She has shed her signature bandages for a deep-green dress—simple but chic. Her short green hair is perfectly set. She looks more like an intelligent, literary woman than the once-feared One-Eyed Owl.
"Not bad," she says evenly, as if she'd foreseen this outco—or as if this was the endpoint she'd always hoped for in her "revolution." As for the future, she plans to write in earnest—to express herself with a pen, not a kagune.
As for the older man behind the bar who sotis glances over with a complex look—her biological father, Kuzen Yoshimura—Eto has no intention of revealing herself. Remaining strangers may be the best ending for them both.
Of course, she and Touka now share a new role as well—won of Rei Ao. Touka may still nurse a girl's romantic longing and see this as a love story, but Eto is realistic and clear-headed: she considers herself property devoted to Rei Ao, paynt for their deal. For her, it isn't about feelings—just a fair exchange—and she doesn't particularly care who owns this body.
And yet… when Eto's gaze flicks over Rei Ao by the window—his profile so perfect it hardly seems real—a ripple of helplessness stirs in her chest. This god's needs and stamina are… vast. Even she and Touka often feel outmatched.
Just then—
ding-a-ling—
the brass bell over the door rings bright and clear: a new custor.
The door swings open and a tall, stylish woman in a smart business suit steps in. She seems just off work, a little tired, but her eyes are sharp and clear. She's like a blade of light sliding into the café's warm atmosphere, drawing more than a few glances.
Rei Ao's casual look toward the entrance brightens when he sees her.
Akira Mado—forr First-Class Investigator, daughter of Kureo Mado. Of course, now she's just a professional at an ordinary company; her mories of her father and the CCG are gone.
Her eyes et Rei Ao's across the room.
What… a handso man.
Akira's heart skips for no reason; her breath hitches. That striking face, those deep eyes that seem to draw you in, and the faint, knowing smile at his lips that suggests he sees through everything—it all leaves her montarily dazed. She jerks her gaze away, cheeks warming, hurries to a seat by the wall, and pretends to study the nu—though her heart keeps beating too fast.
God, did she really just stare at a stranger like that? Mortifying.
She doesn't notice Eto in the corner taking it all in.
"Oh?" A glint of mischief flashes in Eto's eye.
~~~
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