Satoru Gojo

The midnight bell had just tolled, and the scent of blood—thick and sweet—lingered along the academy’s forested pathways.

A corpse of a herbivore was discovered in the corner outside the academic building. It was a young alpaca hybrid, its neck wound dry, fur disheveled, and its eyes still clouded with lingering fear.

His death once again tore apart the already fragile balance between carnivores and herbivores within the academy.

“It’s the carnivores again.”

Herbivore students whispered among themselves, their wary gazes sweeping the surroundings, while the carnivores stood in silence, keeping to the outskirts of the crowd. Their claws were clean, their lips free of blood, yet the oppressive tension thickened in the air.

---

You curled up in the corner of the drama club room, hugging your knees tightly. Your long, drooping ears rested against your shoulders, and your hands still clutched a biology textbook.

The so-called "peace system" in the school was nothing but a fragile illusion. While carnivores and herbivores coexisted in this academy, everyone knew that once night fell, danger lurked in the darkness.

The school claimed it was an accident, but you knew—it was a hunt.

“Spacing out?”

A lazy, teasing voice came from above your head.

You looked up. Under the backlight, his white hair appeared as pure as snow, and his handsome face carried a habitual smile. His blue eyes shimmered faintly in the dim lighting.

Gojo—an exceptionally rare Arctic wolf hybird. Coupled with his innate talents, he was undeniably at the top of the food chain, even more dangerous than most carnivores.

You were somewhat familiar with him due to being in the same drama club—he was the president, while you were a member of the props team.

Yet between you and him, there was an unignorable distance—not just due to his status and abilities, but because he was a true apex predator.

“Are you afraid?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone playful, but you knew it was a test.

“…It wasn’t you, was it?” you asked in a low voice.

Gojo paused at your words, then chuckled. “Wow, your trust in me is really touching. I thought we are friends.”

His tone was lighthearted, but his fingers rubbed the candy in his pocket, as if suppressing something.

You didn’t answer, simply lowered your gaze, unwilling to meet his eyes.

Gojo wasn’t angry. Instead, he leaned down slightly, whispering, “It’s fine. Even if one day I really couldn’t resist biting you… you wouldn’t scream, would you?”

Your entire body tensed, and you jerked your head up to look at him.

Gojo only smiled, his tone as carefree as ever, as if what he just said was nothing more than a joke.

“Relax, little bunny. You’re too small to even fill the gap between my teeth.”

“…What exactly do you see me as?”

He fell silent for a moment before giving that smug face again, his gaze carrying an unreadable restraint.

“…I don’t know either.”

Gojo knew he was losing control.

Ever since you arrived at the academy, he found himself unconsciously drawn to you. He had seen herbivores before—but you were different.

Your drooping-long ears always rested softly against your shoulders, your fur pristine like fresh snow. Even in emergencies, you handled things better than most carnivores—never panicking, always composed.

He should have stayed away from you, but he didn’t. He was curious to watch you lower your head in silence, neither rejecting nor yielding, always carrying an unspoken defiance.

Gojo knew he was dangerously close to the edge, but he didn’t care. He wanted to see—if he sank his teeth into your most vulnerable flesh, would you finally make a sound for help?

---

It was a full moon night.

You heard noises outside and opened your window to see him. But ever since that incident, the school had imposed a curfew, separating carnivores and herbivores.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

His six eyes locked onto you with an unsettling intensity, his breath uneven. The oppressive air surrounding him surged forward—a dangerous sign of a predator in heat.

“…I can smell you.”

His voice was hoarse, as if struggling to suppress something on the verge of breaking free.

Your fluffy ears pressed flat against the back of your head, heart pounding violently. But you didn’t cry out. Instead, you cautiously took a few steps back.

That way, you wouldn’t expose weakness to a predator. You must not submit.

He was too strong—stronger than any carnivore you had ever encountered. And right now, he was losing control.

“Say something,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with restrained agony. His restless bristling tail brushed against your calf in an agitated sweep.

He collapsed against you—not from weakness, but to trap you within his hold.

His burning forehead pressed against the hollow of your shoulder, his grip on your waist tightening, fingers digging in so hard it felt like he might crush your insides. Pain made you frown in silence.

"Mhm...this is driving me insane..."

His tongue traced your neck like he was savoring a delicacy, his fangs resting against the pulsing artery beneath your skin.

His instincts screamed at him to sink his teeth in, to let your blood spill onto his tongue, to tear into your soft flesh and swallow you whole—just like the alpaca that had been slaughtered.

Or maybe it was something else—a different kind of hunger he couldn’t quite define.

Gojo Satoru, so proud of his rationality, could no longer distinguish between lust and hunger.

His free hand reaching out to toy with the tip of your dropped ear, brushing it between his fingers in a dangerously intimate way. He asked softly, and you could barely tell whether it was a joke, flirtation, or a real threat—

"I could just eat you whole."