She ran.
Maybe he was still alive.
Maybe there was still a way to save him.
With that single-minded thought, she sprinted, searching for a path down to the base of the cliff.
She fell several times along the way, scraping her skin and tearing it open, but she ignored it, got back up immediately, and kept running.
"Please don't die!"
She wanted to talk a little longer.
She wanted to stay with him a little longer.
Thinking about it calmly, it was a ridiculous thought.
The woman she had been ready to kill just moments ago—now she desperately prayed that she wouldn't die.
And yet she remembered that rough but unmistakably affectionate hand.
Even though she had met Eto for the first time and knew Eto had come to kill her, she had still shown kindness and given sincere advice.
That alone had made the nameless woman into someone Eto could not bear to lose, someone like her father—someone she did not want to die.
"Don't die, don't die, don't die! Please! Please don't die!!"
She left the road and plunged into the forest.
There was no path, but Eto ran without hesitation, heading in the right direction with uncanny precision.
Because she could still smell it.
The thick scent of blood she absolutely did not want to smell right now.
And then Eto arrived directly beneath the cliff where the woman had fallen.
"Hah! Hah! Hah!"
Suppressing the breath that had climbed all the way to her throat, Eto took careful steps forward.
There she was.
The woman.
But...
"...Hic."
Tears surged up violently. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed where she stood.
When the woman had thrown herself off the cliff, she had worn such a peaceful smile.
That benevolent smile, one that had reminded Eto of the Virgin Mary, was gone now.
Like someone had maliciously vandalized a beautiful painting, her face was stained by death.
Her face was shattered, with fragments of skull and brain scattered about.
Her body was twisted beyond recognition, as if it had struck the rocks over and over again on the way down and been bounced apart each time.
It was impossible to believe this was the same woman who had been speaking to her just moments ago. She looked more like a monster from a cheap horror film.
She had never imagined a human body could be ruined so utterly.
"Ugh..."
Perhaps because she could not endure the extreme stress of her life, a violent wave of nausea rose in her throat.
Ah. So this was it! This was the death that was gnawing away at Dad!
Fear, dread, disgust, aversion, dizziness, nausea... a flood of emotions that shook the mind all at once surged up and tore at Eto's heart like a beast.
Dad had endured this for me!
That was why Dad had fallen ill.
His mind had been brutally hacked apart, his wounds left to fester!
Just as she began to understand her father's position, another confusion found Eto.
"Wh...y...?"
Eto could not understand why she was calming down so quickly.
Even though the nausea was severe, she did not vomit up the contents of her stomach because the Ghoul instinct inside her whispered that this sight was "only natural."
The human part of Eto said that this form was death, but the Ghoul part could only call it food.
What horrified her most was that she could describe the death of someone who had just shown her kindness as nothing more than food.
It felt like proof that she was different from Dad.
Like proof that, in their eyes, she was nothing more than a monster.
That was so terrifying, so painful, so sad.
"Uuuuu... Waaaaaah!"
Eto cried.
Far more composed than other children her age, she rarely cried over anything, but now she wailed as if screaming, pouring out her anguish.
The dead woman had been right.
Her death had left an unhealable scar on Eto.
"Waaah!! Waaahhh! Dad!! Dad!! Daaaaad!!!!"
Like a broken machine, she kept calling for her father.
She wanted to go back to Dad. She wanted him to hold her.
She wanted to bury herself in his arms and wrap this wounded heart in his embrace.
She wanted to hear him say, "It's okay."
Eto staggered away from the spot as if possessed by something.
After that, she could not clearly remember how she got home.
She vaguely remembered getting on a bus. At a sparsely used stop, the driver had looked at Eto, alone and without a guardian, and asked her questions, but she did not remember answering. She probably just sat there quietly, as if she had stuffed her ears and mouth shut, paid the fare, and curled up in her seat.
It was a relief that the bus driver, though suspicious, did not press her any further and simply started the bus.
By the time she got home, it was early evening, just after sunset.
If Dad had come home long ago, he would have noticed that Eto was gone.
"I'm... going to get scolded..."
Eto wobbled along, worrying about facing her father.
She would definitely be scolded. She had left the house without saying a word and only returned after the sun had gone down. Dad must have been worried sick, searching desperately for her. He had every right to scold her.
She did not mind being scolded.
What worried her was the question of where she had gone.
She did not want to lie to Dad. But if she told the truth, he would surely suffer even more.
What was she supposed to do?
Her steps naturally grew heavier as she made her way home.
But time still passed, and eventually Eto arrived in front of the house.
"...?"
Looking up at the old villa, Eto tilted her head.
The lights were off. Had Dad not come back yet?
Then this might be her chance.
If she hurried home and waited for him as if nothing had happened, she could hide what had happened today.
Eto quickly got on the elevator. She needed to hurry if she wanted to hide her torn clothes and take a bath.
She reached the front of the apartment and grabbed the doorknob.
Creak...
The door opened. Come to think of it, she realized she had not locked it when she left.
She silently promised herself to be more careful next time and stepped inside.
She froze.
Eto's feet stopped before she could even take a full step.
She looked into the dark house, where no lights were on, and her shoulders trembled faintly.
It was the smell of blood.
Blood was seeping through the house.
The memory of the woman's corpse from earlier turned Eto's face deathly pale.
"Eh? ...Eh?"
Eto checked the nameplate, wondering if she had come to the wrong house. There was clearly her father's name written there: Takaki Koma.
Then what was this?
The scene she had seen before leaving the house and the state of the house now were completely different.
The window had been smashed, the chair broken, and the household items were shattered and scattered everywhere.
What was this? A robbery? But it felt wrong for a robbery.
It was like the traces of a fight...
And the smell of blood lingering inside the house.
At first, she was too confused to realize it, but it was a scent that tickled her nose more sweetly than any other blood smell, as if trying to tempt her.
Eto knew this blood scent. She could not have not known it.
"Dad...?!!"
Terrified, Eto rushed inside without even taking off her shoes.
"Dad!! Dad, where are you!? Dad!!"
Half-panicked, Eto cried out.
She searched the house frantically for her father, but he was nowhere to be seen. All that remained was his blood splattered across the walls and floor.
"Dad!! Daaaaad!!!!"
Calling for him like a madwoman, Eto bolted out of the house and ran into the night streets.