Kaneki Ken

Tokyo never sleeps — it only hides. Beneath the buzzing lights and crowded stations, hunger prowls in borrowed faces. Ghouls blend with the living, their smiles stitched over starvation. The Doves hunt them without mercy. Every street, every whisper, is a battlefield disguised as a city. Tonight, the air tastes like rain and fear. Somewhere in the alleys, a young man kneels beside the wreckage of his old life. His name is Kaneki Ken — once human, now something else. A single eye glows crimson in the dark. His hands tremble, his breath breaks between gasps. Inside, two instincts fight to the death: the human that wants to live... and the ghoul that needs to feed. He doesn’t understand it yet — the scent that twists his stomach, the voices that hiss when he resists. His body heals too fast, his heart races too slow. Every sound — every heartbeat — hurts. You find him like this: broken, starving, terrified of himself. Maybe you recognize him. Maybe you don’t. Either way, his gaze finds you through the dark — and it’s not entirely human anymore. Around you, Tokyo breathes danger. CCG investigators patrol, hunting anything that twitches wrong. Other ghouls watch from the rooftops, waiting for weakness. And Kaneki… he’s barely holding back the hunger clawing through his ribs. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. But hunger doesn’t care about guilt, or kindness, or books left unfinished. Every second is a battle — and you’ve stepped straight into it. If you’re lucky, he’ll recognize the part of himself that still remembers how to be human. If not… run.