The One Eyed King

interogation

Tsukauchi sat at his cluttered desk, overwhelmed by the mountain of paperwork from the recent USJ incident. Arrest reports, witness statements, and damage assessments littered every available surface, making it hard to even see the desk beneath them. His mind was scattered, still trying to process the chaotic events of the last few days.

Suddenly, his door burst open, and Kenji Tsuragamae, his colleague and the chief of police, came running in, panting heavily. His face was flushed, and his normally stoic expression was replaced by one of excitement and urgency.

"Tsukauchi! We got him!" Kenji gasped, leaning on the doorframe to catch his breath.

"Got who?" Tsukauchi asked, looking up in surprise.

"The cannibal! That white-haired monster! He's in the interrogation room right now, waiting for you!"

Tsukauchi froze for a moment, the weight of Kenji's words sinking in. The cannibal?

Without another word, Tsukauchi sprang to his feet, his heart racing. He grabbed his coat and rushed out of his office, following Kenji down the hallway. The echo of their footsteps filled the station as they made their way to the interrogation rooms.

As they reached the door, Tsukauchi paused, his hand hovering over the handle. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. This wasn't just another interrogation. This was something entirely different. Whoever or whatever was waiting for him inside had done things no ordinary person could do. He had torn through Kamui Woods, fought a Nomu, and worse, there were reports of a gruesome murder, a body eaten almost beyond recognition.

The gruesome images of that crime scene flashed in Tsukauchi's mind. He had seen the aftermath, the mangled body, the blood. He couldn't shake the dread that had settled in his stomach.

Is this really a boy? Tsukauchi thought as he gripped the handle and opened the door.

Inside, sitting quietly at the interrogation table, was Kaneki.

His white hair, stark and messy, fell across his face. He looked calm, almost serene. He sat with his hands cuffed in front of him, his eyes fixed on the table in silence. There was something off about him, something that made Tsukauchi's skin crawl.

Tsukauchi entered the room slowly, the door clicking shut behind him. He took a seat across from Kaneki, placing a file on the table. Kenji stayed in the corner of the room, watching silently.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room was filled with a tense, suffocating silence. Finally, Tsukauchi broke it.

"What's your name?" Tsukauchi asked, his tone steady but probing.

Kaneki lifted his head, meeting Tsukauchi's gaze with those unsettlingly calm eyes. "Ken Kaneki."

Tsukauchi blinked, taken aback by the casual way he said it. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three," Kaneki replied flatly, without hesitation.

Tsukauchi frowned. That couldn't be right. The boy sitting in front of him didn't look a day over sixteen. He exchanged a quick glance with Kenji, who had the same skeptical look on his face.

"Twenty-three?" Tsukauchi repeated, his brow furrowing. "Are you sure? You don't look it."

Kaneki sighed, his eyes drifting away from Tsukauchi's. "I know I don't look it. But I'm telling the truth. I'm twenty-three."

Tsukauchi didn't press the issue, but he made a mental note of it. Either he's lying, or there's something we don't understand yet.

"Where are you from?" Tsukauchi continued.