HUNGRY ALIEN
Thank you for reading *Hungry Alien*.
If you've made it this far—through Kaito's decay, Miyuki's hunger, and their transformation into something that shouldn't exist—then you've witnessed what happens when loneliness becomes so concentrated that it warps reality itself.
This story was never meant to be comfortable. It was meant to be a "beautiful nightmare," as the original vision described it. A romance where love and consumption are the same thing. Where the most intimate connection possible requires giving up your humanity entirely.
When I began writing this, I asked myself: *What would someone trade for four minutes of warmth every night? What would someone sacrifice to never be alone again?*
The answer, I found, was *everything*. Their time. Their body. Their future. Their very existence as a separate being.
Kaito and Miyuki are both monsters—him by choice, her by nature. But their monstrosity is beautiful precisely because it's *chosen*. Because in a world that had abandoned them both, they found each other. And they refused to let go, even when letting go would have been the sane, the safe, the human thing to do.
The Flowerbed isn't a tragedy. Not to them. To them, it's the happiest ending possible.
And maybe that's the most horrifying thing of all.
-ances. If you haven't read them, I highly recommend both—they are masterpieces of melancholic beauty.
Thank You:
To anyone who has ever felt like Kaito—worthless, invisible, convinced that no one would notice if you disappeared—I hope this story showed you that even the loneliest person can find connection. Even if that connection is strange. Even if it's impossible. Even if it requires becoming something the world doesn't understand.
You are not as worthless as you think you are.
You are worth four minutes. You are worth someone's hunger. You are worth blooming into something beautiful and terrible.
To anyone who has ever felt like Miyuki—hungry for connection, willing to consume whatever fills the void, wearing masks to seem more human—I hope this story showed you that sometimes, honesty is more important than pretending. That finding someone who accepts your true form, tentacles and all, is worth more than a thousand shallow connections.
You are not as monstrous as you fear you are.
You are allowed to be hungry. You are allowed to need things. You are allowed to merge with someone and refuse to separate.
Finally:
Thank you for reading a story about two broken things becoming one broken-but-complete thing. Thank you for following Kaito through his slow death and Miyuki through her patient consumption. Thank you for staying until they bloomed.
Stories like this—dark, strange, uncompromising—only exist because people are willing to read them. Willing to sit with discomfort. Willing to find beauty in grotesque places.
You are that person.
Thank you.
May you find your own four minutes of warmth.
May you bloom into something impossible.
May you never, ever be alone.
— The Author
End of Hungry Alien: Kaito & Miyuki Story ❤️