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Yugamu toyed with the curry on his tray, expression carefully neutral despite the way his stomach twisted in disgust. The tofu was rubbery, the potatoes disintegrated into a mushy paste on his tongue. The sauce had a coarse, gritty texture, as if he'd scooped up sand from the shoreline. Even the rice was off. The entire dish tasted like sand.
He scanned the cafeteria, hoping for a cue. Something in someone’s face that might help him mimic the correct reaction. Peers around him devoured their food with noisy delight, smacking their lips, licking their spoons clean. Some were already going back for seconds, happy like they'd won some culinary lottery. His brow furrowed in disgust.
He couldn't comprehend what could possibly be so good about Kurara’s curry. How the others were describing it as the best dish they've ever had was giving him massive FOMO.
Yugamu glanced down at his plate, the curry and rice now an unappetizing sludge. He stirred it absently, then forced a grin as he took another mouthful. It tasted like sand and dirt, nothing more. But he couldn't let the others know his secret.
Ever since Yugamu arrived at Last Defense Academy with the rest of his class, he felt like he was going crazy. Every meal from the Ration-O-Matic tasted like it’d been dug up from a desert. In desperation, he’d even tried the Tsukumo twins’ weird food concoctions, jelly on frozen fish, marshmallows in soup. But nothing helped. His tongue rejected it all.
He’d been like this ever since he was a child. Not even his parents’ experiments on him did anything to fix his strange palette. He'd even tried fixing it himself in the school's bio lab.
He was a Fork. A monster, according to the rest of the world. A predator. A cannibal hidden in plain sight. While most Forks struggled to suppress their animalistic urges, Yugamu had gotten good at it. He had his family of assassins to thank for that. The hunger he’d felt never really left. It just… went quiet.
Then he smelled it.
At first, it was subtle. Warm, sweet, like blueberry muffins fresh from the oven. The scene hit him all at once, much like a punch to the gut. His mouth tingled. His stomach clenched in a way it hadn't in months. Real hunger. Not just the ghost of it.
Yugamu sat up straight, his nose twitching as he tried to subtly lean forward into the scent. It wasn’t his food – that was for certain. The curry that sat before him still reeked of a grainy despair. No, this scent was from across the room. Somewhere amidst the crowd of his peers, there was something – someone – with a delightfully delicious aura that was driving him crazy.
Yugamu stood, abandoning his tray, weaving through the tables with quiet precision. He moved like smoke, unnoticed, unbothered, drawn forward by the invisible thread of scent pulling him in.
And there he was.
Gaku Maruko. Sitting by himself, shoveling curry down his throat without a care in the world.
The scent radiated from him in waves. Yugamu almost felt dizzy.
It's him.
Who would've known Gaku was a cake?
Something deep in Yugamu stirred. Something feral. Something he’d kept locked away for god knows how long. His hunger, once a quiet whisper, now screamed for attention. He had to fight the urge to leap over the table and sink his teeth into the boy’s neck.
Gaku was cute. Always had been. Too cute, if Yugamu was honest. The kind of cute that made his hands twitch. The kind that blinded him with his own darker instincts. He’d fantasized about it before, dragging Gaku into the bathhouse showers just to watch him sputter. Holding his face under water and pulling him back out once he was close to passing out. Tears streaming down his face, snot pouring out of his nose. Cutting him and watching the blood wash away like a beautiful river. Tying him up not to interrogate him, but to see what noises he could make. Squeezing his hands around his throat and watching him turn purple. Watching the light slowly fade from his eyes. Tasting the blood from one of his frequent nosebleeds and letting it linger on his tongue, basking in the sweet, crimson syrup.
This was different from his usual feelings towards the other boy. This wasn’t just cruelty or obsession or some sick fascination. Yugamu needed this. He needed to sink his teeth into Gaku’s soft, supple flesh. Just one taste, he told himself. That'd be enough to satisfy this.
For the love of murder, how did I get so lucky?
Yugamu's hands twitched in excitement. His mouth watered, stomach aching like he hadn't eaten in weeks. Before he knew it, his body reacted on its own.
He took a step forward. Then another. The soft clack of his boots faintly echoed as he followed Gaku out of the cafeteria. Gaku didn't seem to notice. Everyone else was much too noisy anyways. It was good for masking Yugamu's movements.
His vision blurred. His breathing was slow, calculated. Each inhale bringing more of that intoxicating scent to him. The aching in his stomach was unbearable. Hunger burning through him like a fever. Drool threatened to spill out of his mouth.
Just a taste.
His hand reached forward, his fingers curling in like claws.
Gaku turned with a jolt.
“Gah, what's your freaking problem, man?!” He squeaked. His spoon fell to the table with a soft clink.
Blinking, Yugamu redrew his talons and cleared his throat. “I was just… testing your reflexes,” His voice was calm, collected. He wasn't always the best at hiding his bloodlust, but he needed to right now.
Gaku narrowed his eyes. “You’re such a freak. Seriously. Cut it out already!”
“Actually,” Yugamu began. “I was wondering if you'd like to assist me in the bio lab? You finished your food before anyone else, so I assume you're free, hm?”
“And let you do some freaky experiments on me? No freaking way, man!”
“I expected as much.” Yugamu sighed, already pulling out a crumpled wad of yen. “I’ll pay.”
The change in Gaku’s cute, crimson eyes was immediate. Yugamu could practically see the greed light up behind them. All too easy.
“…How much?”
“A couple hundred yen. More, if you behave.”
Gaku considered. “…Fine. But no cutting me open or anything. I mean it.”
“A shame,” Yugamu purred. “I’d even pay extra for that.”
Gaku hesitated. It was subtle. But Yugamu caught it.
He was thinking about it.
How adorable.
“N-No way!” Gaku stammered, flushing. “And don’t leave any permanent marks or weird stuff, okay?”
“No promises.” Yugamu’s grin sharpened as he hugged his own shoulders, a lustful grin on his face. “I could kill you. The Revive-O-Matic would bring you back without… any of my mementos.”
“ Absolutely not , you freak! If you keep trying to violate my boundaries, I’m turning down my offer!”
Yugamu chuckled.
Gaku truly was the perfect prey. Cute. Naive. Had absolutely no pain tolerance. Yugamu had noticed the way the boy blinked back tears in battle after the smallest scratch, his lips trembling. It almost made him feel ill.
It was all too much. Too perfect. As if the universe itself had arranged a feast in his honor. Yugamu thought about his ideal feast. Gaku’s arm, offered up on a silver platter, his own blood drizzled on top, organs nestled beside it like garnishes. The thought made Yugamu salivate with twisted delight.
Gaku followed Yugamu down the hallway, quiet for the most part. Occasionally he'd mutter to himself about how much of a freak Yugamu was, which only really fueled him.
When they finally reached the bio lab, the lights flickered on, casting eerie shadows across the room. The bio lab door clicked shut behind them.
Gaku flinched. “H-hey! Why'd you lock it?!”
Yugamu gave a wide grin. “So we don't face any interruptions. It'd be inconvenient if someone were to walk in on us being so intimate..”
“Don't say it like that! We're not having sex or anything- I don't even swing that way!”
“For more yen, I'm sure you would.”
Yugamu chuckled as Gaku went silent, blood rushing to his cheeks. Oh, how Yugamu just wanted to slurp him up…
The room was cold, the faint hum of machines breaking the silence. Sterile lights buzzed overhead, casting sharp shadows over the counters and gurney at the center of the room.
“Lie down.”
Gaku’s eyes widened.
“N-no way! I don't know what kind of freaky shit you're going to do to me but I've changed my mind-”
Yugamu moved fast, closing the distance in a blink, hand curling around Gaku’s wrist. His grip was cold, firm, but not bruising. His nails dug into the other boy's pale skin. Not enough to draw blood, though that's what Yugamu wanted more than anything.
“Come now, Maruko,” he purred. “You agreed to help, didn’t you? Be a good boy now.”
The assassin's eye flickered down at just the right moment, noticing a tent in Gaku’s pants.
“Oh? Interesting…”
Gaku tried his best to pull away, but Yugamu was stronger, naturally. A predator in control. If a trained assassin couldn't overpower a wimpy little shit like Gaku, what use did he have? He guided the smaller boy backwards until his legs hit the edge of the gurney. One hard shove and Gaku fell backwards, the gurney catching his fall.
“Wha- what the hell-”
In a flurry of motion, Yugamu slipped a strap over one of Gaku's wrists, yanking it tightly. Ignoring Gaku's cries of protest, he made his way to the second wrist. Then his ankles. The straps weren't tight enough to cut off circulations – though Yugamu found himself intrigued with the idea – but they were firm enough that his prey couldn't wriggle free.
“Y-you're crazy! Let me go!”
Yugamu watched, admiring the way Gaku thrashed, chest heaving, his red eyes widening and threatening to spill tears. That sweet smell that had drawn him here in the first place was only amplified in the room.
“You say that,” Yugamu began, hovering over and dragging a hand down Gaku's stomach, stopping towards his inner thigh. “Yet you're hard.”
Gaku flinched at the touch. His face red with panic and what Yugamu could only assume was pure arousal.
“Maybe I'm not the freak after all, hm?” He absolutely was. He turned away for a moment, stalking toward the nearby workstation. Gaku yanked at the straps with a choked breath, the sound of buckles straining filling the silence. But the leather held.
Yugamu rifled through the drawers until he found what he was looking for: a scalpel, gleaming under the sterile light. He held the scalpel delicately between his fingers, as if it was a paintbrush, and Gaku's trembling body was his canvas. He couldn't wait to paint it red.
Gaku whimpered, thrashing against the restraints again. “Don't– don't you dare !”
The scalpel hovered above Gaku's collarbone, pressing lightly. Not enough to draw blood, but enough for the cold metal to bring even more discomfort to the smaller boy. The scalpel trembled in pure anticipation.
He could see the pulse. Fast. Fragile. Seeing Gaku in such a state made his own pulse quicken, a hard throbbing between his legs. He climbed on top of him, wedging his knee between his legs, drawing a whimper from his victim’s throat. Yugamu’s body grew more and more desperate as he pressed the scalpel into the other's neck, blood pooling at the wound. Saliva pooled in his mouth that he was quick to slurp up.
Yugamu leaned down, his face only a few inches from Gaku’s. The boy's breath hitched as blood leaked from his cut. Like a lizard, Yugamu’s tongue flicked, greedily lapping up the fresh liquid. It was so sweet… So sugary. The taste was heavenly, divine. Addicting. One taste wasn't going to be enough. He needed more.
He opened his mouth just enough for his fangs to scrape gently across the skin. Gaku let out a strangled noise, part gasp, part whimper. It only added to the haze in Yugamu’s mind, driving him further over the edge. .
“Y-Yugamu…”
His teeth settled down, sinking into the tender flesh. His tongue flicked, lapping up any droplets of blood he could manage. His victim let out a yelp, which melted into a moan.
“Your scent is driving me mad,” he whispered, voice low and trembling with restraint. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone this much.” His hands kept busy, pulling at Gaku’s shirt to expose more of his meal.
Gaku turned his face away, eyes squeezed shut. “You’re so - nghh - weird..”
Yugamu’s hand crept down to rest on Gaku’s stomach. Just above his waistband. He clawed at his smooth, soft tummy, drawing more of that sweet nectar he craved.
“You taste so good, Gaku,’ Yugamu’s breath fanned hot against Gaku’s neck as he lingered close, the scalpel now set aside, its work already done. Thin trails of crimson glistened in the sterile light, and Yugamu watched them in a sick fascination. He dragged his tongue across the sweet, sugary trail, coating his lips. “You have no idea what you're doing to me.”
Gaku's entire body shuddered at the sensation as he pathetically thrusted his hips upward. An attempt to receive even the smallest hint of friction. Something to help with the uncomfortable tightness around his groin. Yugamu caught on, his response to rock his body against his, their growing erections finding each other. Gaku was practically crying while the taller man reduced himself to a display of animalistic desire.
“I do hope you'll let me kill you someday,” Yugamu blurted out as he brought his face down to Gaku's stomach, licking up the sweet saltiness that coated it. More blood pooled at the scratches, providing Yugamu more to satisfy his hunger. “So pretty…. You're so pretty like this.”
Yugamu’s hands trailed down to unbutton Gaku’s jeans. He needed to taste every inch of him.
“Nnh- Ahhh…! Y-Yugamu-!”
Gaku’s back arched, his fingers digging into the leather of the gurney he was trapped in. His legs squeezed together as he coated the inside of his pants with a thick, sugary glaze.
“What a waste,” Yugamu sighed. He stood up, watching Gaku pant and let out pathetic sobs as he came down from his sudden orgasm. Well, Gaku certainly was in no place to judge him for being a freak ever again.
With another sigh, Yugamu began to undo Gaku’s straps. He wanted so desperately to cut Gaku up more. To create a big enough wound he could eat out. To gut him like a fish, experiencing the sweet, forbidden tastes of his entrails. The Revive-o-Matic was a godsend. If he'd ever gotten too carried away, Gaku could just come back. He could do this over and over again if he was lucky.
He supposed that'd have to wait. Something told him he'd get another chance soon.