Watashitachi no Monogatari - 私たちの物語

導入

I'm sure you've heard at least one story in your life that was so sad it made you cry. Or ones with such a happy ending it makes you tear up. This is neither of those. I'd like to say this is a sad story, that would be the simplest way to put it. But simple isn't a word in my vocabulary. Can you imagine what it's like to have mood swings every couple minutes? I'd say that's what this story is.

My name is Kata Maki. I'm going to tell you a story. A long, complicated, emotional, eventful story. The intro to this story may be somewhat ordinary, but I promise you the rest of it won't be.

My name means worthy shepard. My father always told me to think about that when making my decisions. But honestly, I still don't know what a shepard is. I'm guessing it's something important in the past. Or something like that.

My father was a good man. He always made the right decisions, until the fateful night when I was five years old. I lost both him and my mom that night. I don't remember the details of what happened to them. It was thirteen years ago after all.

They were killed by the CCG. That's all I can remember. Don't know what that is? You'll learn soon enough.

Something the CCG didn't think about when killing a married couple is the possibility of them having a child. And how much that child would grow to hate the CCG. Or how strong that child would become. In case you weren't listening, I am that child.

I am Kata Maki. Better known as X by the government. I am a SS rated ghoul, infamous for my chimera kagune that I inherited from both of my parents. I have my father's ukaku along with my mother's rinkaku. My identity, face, gender, and voice has never been revealed to anyone of the CCG.

I'm only recognized by my red mask, with two black X's spray painted over the eyes. Along with a large black cloak. They thought I was a man, so they were looking for a young man in his twenties for three years.

I started killing for myself when I was fourteen years old. I had lived with a friend of my dad's for nine years, and I was ready to leave. After that I lived on the streets, and made myself a mask out of one I found in a dumpster from a costume party. I just simply painted the X's on the eyes.

Living on the streets wasn't bad. I killed to eat twice every month, cleaned myself in swimming pools in people's backyards, cleaned my clothes in them too. I'm sure my dad's friend would've contacted the police to find me if I wasn't a ghoul.

I finally got a job once I was old enough. As a photographer. People contacted me online and paid me to come and take pictures of them. Simple enough. I moved into a little studio apartment. It isn't bad, but it isn't amazing either.

What am I doing now? Well, that's a long story. A long story, that I'm going to tell you.