Shinji could remember it clearly as if it had happened only yesterday. Occasionally, sometimes he would instinctively move his hand to his chest, feeling the place where, a few months ago he had been slashed right open, with his blood and flesh leaking out into the street as he was left to die by the monster sent by Foundation X. How long had he lived like this? In hiding, worrying about who might ever find out what he had become? How long had he lived as a refugee? A fugitive? A man wanted by the forces of justice who was supposed to protect them? 

How long had he been an Orphnoch? 

Looking around his apartment, Shinji continued reading the book that the Literature class was supposed to read. No matter what happened to him, he still wanted to live out a normal life as long as he could. So far, he hadn't made a mistake - and by that, he meant that he didn't accidentally go on a rampage, kill anyone or reveal that he was an undead monster to anyone yet. Well, besides Foundation X, but they were an exception. Hearing his stomach growl, Shinji put down his book and headed to the pantry, where he opened a cupboard - only to reveal it was completely empty. Sighing, the young teen who had so recently moved out of his house resigned himself to go shopping, putting on his jacket and heading out the door. 

Get to the store, buy some snacks, get home. Shouldn't be too dangerous, right?