Ghoul Lover (Tokyo Ghoul Fanfic)

Chapter 4: Illusions

Chapter 4: Illusions

Sad. I feel sad. Poor, Kiyoshi is dead. Poor Kiyoshi was murdered.

Poor Kiyoshi.

At the funeral, everyone including myself looks the right level of grim for the somber occasion. Clad in simple, clothing that are colored as dark as the stormy sky above, we grieve. We grieve the death of my father's best friend, my former protector, a former Ghoul Investigator, a human. I resist the urge to let my lips curl into a smile.

A human is now dead. A FILTHY GHOUL MURDERING HUMAN IS DEAD. The best part is I killed him... I killed the killer of all the angelic creatures that most see as demons. Humans deem others as demons because they don't want to face the truth... HUMANS are demons. So, if humans were to actually hunt the real MONSTERS, they would be hunting themselves. My throat stings as I suppress a chuckle. Oh humans... Just how dumb can you be?

A man of immense blandness clears his throat to gain our attention. He rattles of a series of words, all that sing of praise for Kiyoshi.

"He was one of the nicest guys I knew..." I grow fascinated by his fluffy mustache that twitches as he talks, "He saved many people... Including me..." I automatically tune out, not want to hear the lengthy story. Instead I study the mustache, trying to figure out why it fascinates me so much. The mustache itself can't move. It is merely a body part, but it also ISN'T a body part. A mustache consists of hair. Hair can grow longer, can be short or curly. Despite all the variations of hair, it can't move by itself. Hair needs an outside force to move it, such as wind. Or perhaps some sort of underlying muscle to cause it to move...

The mustache is the answer.

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I am an idiot, wandering throughout an infamous section of Tokyo. In this area there are thefts, prostitution, drug deals, and Ghoul attacks. I am a studious teenager, a young lad clad in glasses and a recently ironed button-down shirt. Creating the illusion of such a character is no easy task... One must set aside their own personality and comforts. However, all the hours spent on research and creating the final project will be worth it in the end.

HE is likely waiting for the perfect moment to swoop down upon me, and attack me with seemingly endless energy. "Ahh... I'm lost, aren't I?" I mutter to myself, meanwhile nervously rubbing the back of my head. "Ugh! I still need to finish the five page essay that is due tomorrow!"

"Let me... BE OF ASSITANCE!" a deep voice hollers, accompanied by a blur of movement. A blurry figure leaps down from their perch upon the edge of a rooftop. This Ghoul... His name fits him perfectly.

"How kind of you Vulture-kun," I respond, letting an unusual amount of sweetness seep into my voice. He was clearly not expecting such a response, and I soon find myself facing HIM instead of being BITTEN by HIM. He is clad in dark clothes that would make him appear to be part of the chilly night air. In fact, he would blend in seamlessly if it weren't for the light that seems to radiate from his pearl white, beak-like mask. Framing the mask is wavy hair that has a color similar to that of dark chocolate. Information about Vulture is just a crumb of the sandwich of information my father has 'accidentally' leaked to me. Who wouldn't be tempted to leak information to their child that SEEMS eager to become a Ghoul Investigator just like them?

"Oh? Are you a fan? I haven't met a fan in quite a while. Perhaps you'd like to play for a while," his tone is suggestive as he slowly brings himself closer to me. Vulture loves to play with his food... He loves to spend time alone with his victims, as if going on a date. One could say he is desperate for love.... Vulture is known for killing his victims with stunning precision, leading Ghoul Investigators to believe he has some sort of medical knowledge. Additionally, his hunting area is near many hospitals and clinics.

"How about this..." I say, letting a small smile form upon my lips, "If you help me with something, I won't let the world know who you REALLY are," to prove my knowledge, I whisper his REAL name. "You were THAT promising medical student weren't you? Didn't THEY say that you could become the BEST doctor in all of Japan?" He snarls like a cornered dog,seeming to have grown agitated. "I have the information set to be released at a certain time. I can cancel its departure from my home computer to all the news stations in Japan IF I get home alive and unharmed." He narrows his eyes, and curses a few choice words under his breath. "How much proof do you need Vulture-kun? Surely by now you must have realized that I am not what I appear to be."

He stays silent for a few seconds before releasing a deep sigh. "I suppose I have no choice... I don't think I could have killed you anyway... You're too darn cute!" His tone changes from one of agitation to playfulness as he utters the last phrase. "So what is it you need? Want an autograph? Want to hear my whole life story? Or perhaps you really do want to play."

"It's simple, really," I say, circling Vulture, like a, well... "I think Ghouls are gorgeous. I think they are angels instead of the demons that all the humans depict them as..." I play with a strand of his shoulder length hair before continuing, "I love Ghouls more than anything in the world. I adore Ghouls, I want to BE a Ghoul." As expected, he is shocked and angry.

"Cute but crazy," he exclaims, peering at me from out of the corner of his emerald green eyes. "So you think Ghouls are great. You think THIS is great?" He responds, pinning me to a nearby brick wall. His emerald green eyes are soon replaced by the red and black eyes that I love. "I could KILL you, right here and now. You are REALLY annoying me."

"You could..." I murmur, "but I don't think you will. SHE didn't either." At the mention of another Ghoul, he raises an eyebrow. "Nightmare couldn't kill me either, if you need proof, feel free to look at my left arm." He does so immediately, and gasps at the sight of the scars. He gently traces each scar with his right index finger, and soon emits a chuckle.

"So," he says, raising his gaze from my arm to my eyes, "IF I let you live like SHE did, IF I help you... Will you, at the very least, give me a thank you kiss?" This time it is my turn to chuckle.

"Perhaps if you do a good job, Doctor," I respond, meanwhile giving him a small shove. To my surprise he lets himself get pushed away. "I have all we need in my backpack... You must be an idiot for not smelling the quinque I have on me."

"Hey, don't insult me!" he cries, seeming offended, "Your cuteness was just so darn distracting..." A small gleam appears in his eyes as he continues, "You sure are a strange one... But I like you. Although it would be great if you weren't so mean. Blackmailing me? Insulting me? You're cruel..." For someone that is at least two years older than me, he acts awfully childish. "I am going to do a GREAT job.You better kiss me in advance."