Author's Note: This chapter was supposed to come up ages ago, obviously it didn't and I apologize for that. Life was hectic since I was leaving for Japan, and life has been even more hectic since I arrived in Japan. Coupled with severe writer's block, I lost all motivation for the story, but with this I'm wrapping up our journey. It was incredibly enjoyable. I'm so glad I decided to write this story, and I really appreciate all the reviews and supportive feedback up 'til this point. You guys are what keeps me wanting to write and wanting to post my stories, so seriously - thank you so much. I hope you have enjoyed My Little Firefly.

I don't think I mentioned this before, but as the story is coming to a close now, I wanted to say that the story is named after Hotaru as it's the Japanese word for firefly. There is a lot of symbolic meaning behind fireflies and I felt it aptly fit the Tokyo Ghoul series, for many reasons... I won't ramble too much and bore you all. Thank you again for reading!

chapter eighteen

The earth crunches beneath his boot as he strides forward, silhouetted by the setting sun. When he comes to a stop, he's a few feet short of the figure hunched over on the ground, their back facing him. His hand reaches out, taking hold of a lock of the chestnut colored hair. It has gotten longer, and yet it feels as soft now as when she was human.

"Are you going hunting again?" Her long slender fingers are gently caressing the primitive stone that has Hotaru's name etched into it. A small smile rests on her pale lips. Her cheeks have grown sallow and sunken in, evidence of the weight she has lost—refusing to eat more than the bare minimum to keep herself alive.

Ayato's grip tightens on the tress of hair. "Yeah," he answer finally after a period of silence. He has grown accustomed to her seeing him off here in front of Hotaru's grave, which is where she spends the better part of her day.

Since the first day of her transformation, she hasn't said another word about exacting revenge. Part of him wonders if she's entirely forgotten about the rage and grief she felt initially. Now she seems to be growing thinner, as though she intends to wither away. The more weight she loses, the more he wonders if she might not just disappear, and that he may return from his hunt to find her gone entirely.

Suddenly she peers over her shoulder, and there is a light in her eyes that he hasn't seen in some time. "I want to go with you."

His heart hammers at that statement, eyes widening reflexively. "Why?" The word is breathed out instinctively, because he can't help feeling skeptical.

Akira purses her lips for a moment, seeming to debate inwardly how to respond. Then finally her lips curl as she says, "Because I want to understand what it means to be a ghoul."

The strands seem to slip between his fingers the second he loosens his hold, and finally Ayato drops his hand to his side. His throat feels strangely parched as he swallows. "I don't have a mask for you," he says quickly, as though trying to find an excuse not to take her. The memory of her first meal is still vivid in his mind.

—

"You need to eat."

She has her back pressed against the wall, her legs pulled against her chest as her arms cling to her knees. Dark tresses hang like a curtain across her eyes, making it impossible to read her expression. "I can't," she says in a hoarse voice.

The same excuse seems to be exhausting his patience as he approaches in a swift, purposeful stride. His footsteps echo noisily and she seems to flinch as the sound grows steadily louder until his shadow falls across her, silhouetted by the only lamp that hangs in the center of the room—now behind him. Ayato lifts his hand, gripping something that is initially unidentifiable. She only realizes because there is something dripping down from the object—and it splatters against her cheek as she peers up at him warily.

Considering how warm it feels as it trickles down her cheek, she barely needs to guess—but still she lifts her hand to dab at it. When she lowers her arm, even in the darkness her eyes are capable of perceiving the color. Her lips tremble as her mouth fills with saliva. "No," she gasps in horror, realizing that her hunger is starting to supersede her conscience.

"Eat," Ayato demands, the tone of his voice leaving little room for her to disobey. There is a glint in his eye that she has never seen before—and she wonders if this is the true him, the ghoul part that she had never been particularly aware of before. Even when she had been seconds away from being devoured by him the first time they met, he had never been so cruel as he is now.

Even if she wants to scoot back, there is no room—she is pressed against the wall, and the more she thrashes as his hand starts toward her, gripping that thing, Akira realizes that she cannot escape. Her face contorts with a look of disgust even as drool dribbles down her chin, and she has to purposefully grit her teeth to keep from reaching out and seizing that food.

Why does it smell so delicious? Why does she feel her palate itching for a taste?

"Please," she mumbles desperately, her eyes clamped tightly shut. Please don't make me eat that.

He stares down at her dispassionately, not seeming the least conflicted about forcing her to eat. When he realizes she has no intention of seizing it herself and eating, he reaches his other hand toward her, pinching her nose between his thumb and forefinger. When, by reflex, she opens her mouth in a gasping breath, he shoves the blood drenched organ past her lips. As soon as it's in her mouth, he finally releases her nose so she can breathe normally.

The moment the coppery taste washes over her tongue, the hunger seems to overwhelm her and her teeth chomp down eagerly. The texture is not nearly as nauseating as she had made herself imagine. It's not rough like steak—this is softer, easier to chew and swallow. Since she isn't able to devour it all in a single bite, she continues eating out of Ayato's hand, not unlike starved dog.

When at last he recoils, satisfied to see that she has finished her meal, Akira sits with her jaw gaping. The moment she registers what she has eaten, she sobs into her hands, immediately covering her face. Something warm is churning in the pit of her stomach, and she wonders if she might not just throw it back up.

While she mourns what she views as her loss of humanity, Ayato strokes her head with his clean hand, the other still covered in a thick sheen of blood that has now dried into a layer that seems to coat his palm.

"If you don't eat, you can't take revenge."

"I just want to disappear," she croaks back, shrinking away from his touch. All of her grief seems to have been internalized since her declaration in front of Hotaru's grave just a few days ago. "It's my fault... it's because I was so naive... because I was stupid enough to believe ghouls and humans could live together in peace!"

Ayato nearly starts at the realization that the blame has turned into guilt, and he wonders quietly if perhaps she might be better knowing the truth. If the betrayal of knowing that he was the one who truly killed Hotaru might be enough to evoke her anger and convince her to live. Yet equally likely is the possibility that she might see no point in living anymore at all, were she to know that Hotaru's life was sacrificed for her own.

So he purses his lips, continuing to muss her hair in silence—knowing that he's responsible for the pain and suffering that both of them are now going through.

—

"Take me with you." As though her gaze by itself is not entreating enough, she further implores him by reaching out and taking his hand in hers. Her skin feels chillingly cold as she grips his fingers tightly. "Humans... are your source of nutrition, but they're also the source of your pain, aren't they?"

Realizing that she is purposefully excluding herself, he reminds her curtly, "You're a ghoul too."

Her lips part in an expression of undue surprise, but just as quickly she smiles warmly at him. "That's right," she agrees in a quiet voice, "and it's because I was human before that I want to be beside you now. I closed my eyes when I was with Hotaru because I couldn't accept the truth. But I'm ready now. I want to see it with my own eyes."

"... I'm going to be killing people. Killing humans."

Despite his warning, she continues to peer up at him with that gentle expression on her face. "I still want to go with you."

He stares at her, searching her eyes for any hint of uncertainty. Somehow he doesn't feel fully convinced that she is prepared for this. It is enough that he has dragged her into his world, does he really have the right to drag her any further? "You can't fight in the condition you're in." He points toward her legs, which have grown thin enough that they're only able to do the bare minimum of supporting her. No ghoul—let alone a human—should be as shriveled as she has become.

"... I'm not going to fight."

His brows furrow in confusion, perhaps because the words she spoke that day are still ringing in his ears. "I'll kill them."

"You'll kill them for me... won't you?"

Those words startle him, and he stares at her in disbelief. Yet there is nothing maniacal about the way she is gazing up at him—no, it seems almost affectionate. It strikes him that she does not use the word protect and instead intentionally asks him to commit murder on her behalf. Has he perhaps not given her due credit in being cold and calculating? But that's not Akira's nature. This is not the Akira whose bed he slept in, whose body he was once conjoined with, who boldly claimed humans and ghouls could live together. She has changed.

Sensing his inner struggle, she gives his hand a squeeze. "What was it... that you wanted out of keeping me alive? What motivation did you have to go through that much trouble?"

It's the first time she has asked that question with such clarity. Before she might have wavered between being indifferent to blaming him for saving her instead of Hotaru. Yet this time she is being blunt in her query, and he is ill-equipped to answer it with honesty. "... There's no deep meaning behind it."

"It's because... you wanted me to be alive, right? You needed me to be."

He doesn't answer.

"I'll stay alive for you... if you take revenge for me." Suddenly she averts her eyes, gritting her teeth as her face contorts in anguish. "I know that's not the answer... I know revenge can't make me happy. That's why I took Hotaru in, that's why I tried so hard to see ghouls as people even after they took everything from me. I just wanted the pain to stop—for everyone. For humans, for ghouls…. For Hotaru and me. But it didn't, and now I have nothing left."

Ayato listens quietly as she grips at him desperately, a few tears rolling down her cheeks as she pleads with him.

"I can only be at ease when the people responsible for my pain are dead. That's all I can do for Hotaru now… to repent for being so naïve. Even if it's not what she might have wanted, it's what I need now. Please, Ayato…"

He must be transparent for her to have read him so accurately. Somehow he feels a little bitter about it—like he is the puppet whose strings are being manipulated. "Fine," he agrees finally as he slips out of her grasp, suddenly stooping down and scooping her up.

Akira immediately loops her arms around his neck, and he freezes when he feels her lips against his cheek. The kiss is a brief one, and soon enough she's leaning her head against his collarbone.

He balances her weight in his arms as he starts out the wire fence surrounding the compound. This promise of theirs is no proclamation—this isn't love. Even Ayato is not sure what exactly this is that exists between them. It's some sort of warped mutual dependence built on lies and deceit. He supposes it's fitting, because if he has learned anything it's that ghouls never have happy endings.

But this—this not-happy-ending—he wants it to last. So he will carry out this "revenge" for her, even when the person she really wants dead is the one she is clinging to.