Tokyo Ghoul Fanfic

A Different Side of Town

Uta starts walking through intricate alley ways with me right on his heels. He has a limp in one of his legs and I put his arm around my shoulder to help him walk home. We don't talk, but so much is being said in the silence.

His name is Uta. He's young and handsome, and he has this dangerous feeling coming from the way he moves his body and talks with such passion and knowledge and affirmation. His name is Uta, a mysterious boy I know nothing about, but who is giving me jitters and a loss of time and space itself.

Soon enough, he reaches his other hand to get a set of keys from his back pocket of black ripped jeans. I slide out from under his arm, hoping he can stay up to open the door.

"After you," Uta says and opens the door to let me in first.

The apartment is in an unfamiliar neighborhood on the bad side of town. I never go down here often because I heard of all the stories that occur in this part of the city. I hear about the violence and the murders, but never about kind, simple-minded men like Uta. Right when I walk in, the room is all dark. Several staggered windows emit light here and there. There's just enough light to maneuver yourself around the place, but not too much to imitate the sun midday. The furniture is old and torn blankets lie askew everywhere. Coffee rings are on the table tops and unfinished crossword newspaper puzzles on top of numerous books.

"Why do you never turn the lights on?" I ask quizzically. I never turn lights on in my house either, but I was surprised someone like this had the same oddity as me. There's a reason I never have lights on in my house. Light is too common. It is too welcoming and happy. Nothing can ever be that good and pure. Why indulge in such a thing when the world is nothing like that?

"Well, electricity can get pretty damn expensive for one person," he scoffs, "but I just don't like the light very much. I prefer working in the dark."

"I see," I answer back with slight awe at such thinking. How could there be someone with such a brilliant mind be living here, where the newspaper articles are mostly bad news, the gunshots are fired, and the window cracking screams are always resounding off of the too close together concrete buildings.

"Please, take a seat. Make yourself at home. I'll be right back, I just need to tidy up."

He leaves down a hallway to change clothes. I sit down on the dark gray sofa. The room is cold. A draft comes from the windows and doorway cracks. I grab a blanket, never mind the fact of how dirty it could be or how many countless warm bodies have stopped by to spend the night with such a welcoming friend.

I take in my surroundings and the bounty of newspapers on the coffee table astound me. All the newspapers are from past Sundays with missing persons reports and odds and end articles about mysterious ghouls.Could Uta be an investigator on the look out for helpless ghouls? That would be some philanthropy to put down on a college application.

Uta stumbles back into the living room. I look down and clench my hands in my lap nervously.

"Would you like some coffee? You must be freezing. I always keep the temperature too low."

"Thank you, but I'm good," I don't want to intrude and just start leeching on all the things he has to offer, and by the looks of it, he doesn't have much.I look down nervously from not knowing how to conduct myself in another ghoul's home.Correction: I never have been in another ghoul's home.I notice my fingers are trembling and pale. "You know, maybe I will have some.Thank you for being so kind."

"It's all I can really do. You practically saved me from being someone's breakfast."

"Oh it's no problem. I like helping." I turn around to see Uta standing behind the kitchen counter, busy brewing the coffee. There is something so beautiful with the way he reaches his thin delicate arms opening cupboards and handles chinaware. I can't help but stare.

"Like the view?" Uta says in amusement as he turns the gas stove on to heat up some water.

This comment throws me off guard. I immediately start blushing. I didn't realize he knew I was watching. "No, I was just," I start to argue back to defend myself from further humiliation, "It's just that you still haven't treated the cut on your stomach."

He looks down at his stomach and lifts his shirt. The cut from another ghoul's kagune has opened up and started slowly bleeding. The bottom of his shirt is slowly getting a red spot from blood seeping through.

I get up and maneuver past the couch and the coffee table and the wooden chairs to get to the kitchen by Uta.

"Do you have any gauze and tape?"

"Yes, in the cabinet over there."

I lean on my tip toes to try to reach the first aid kit in the cabinet. After several tries, I see a slender hand reach up for the rusted white box with a red plus sign. 

"You know, you shouldn't be reaching up high. You'll open the cut even more." I turn around to find Uta right next to me. His head a few inches above mine. I look up and find him smiling.

"I think I'm good." That gorgeous smirk appears again.