Masquerading Virtuoso【Tokyo Ghoul Fan-Fiction】

iii. Nocturne

"Understanding the gestures of the notes, she molds her movements to their emotions."

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The family exited the taxi that had carried them to their massive home just outside of the 11th Ward, better known as Ōta, and bid their chauffeur a farewell. Gradually, they ascended the few steps leading to the entrance of their temple-like, three-story home. Tsuki watched as her father unlocked the door and allowed them inside. Once within, he held the door and looked from Ame to his daughter.

"We'll return shortly, Tsu-chan. You know the routine," her father said, fixing the cuff of his shirt.

The brunette nodded affimatively to him, and gripped the door as she watched her parents step out onto the porch adorned by red columns, intricately decorated in the twelve Chinese zodiac. "Be careful," she muttered, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Ame shook her head and closed her eyes. "Tsu-chan, we don't need to feel so troubled," she said, opening her eyes to reveal bloody irises firmly centered in a pool of black. "They are the ones who need to be wary of us."

Dai chuckled and allowed his eyes to shift to their ghoul-like state. "She has a point, Tsu-chan. Now, just relax until we get back, OK?"

Tsuki smiled, though, not out of joy, then lowered her gaze to the bamboo flooring beneath her bare feet. "See you both later then," she muttered, closing the door as they dispersed and camouflaged themselves within the veil of night.

Running a hand through her neat, straight tresses, she strode toward her bedroom, which was situated just down the hall---the second door on the right. Sliding it open, she walked in and turned on the lamp that was set on her vanity---illuminating her room. Stretching, she inched herself over to her well-made bed, and plopped herself down on it. Propping her arms beneath her head, she stared at the blank ceiling.

Why must my life be this way? she wondered, tilting her head on its side, her chocolate eyes landing upon her charging phone lying on the floor across from her bed. "Maybe some music will get rid of this feeling," she said, as she crawled off of her bed and rummaged through the various songs she'd downloaded on her phone. Choosing one of her favorites---Fryderyk Chopin---she set it to shuffle and listened to his album of Nocturnes.

Scurrying back over to her bed, she lied back down and slung her arms in front of herself, as if she was about to play the piano. Once the first song came on---no. 20---her left hand began to mimic each chord, her right taking on the multitude of notes about to come its way.

She closed her eyes and listened to the beautiful composition. Feeling eased by its rhythm, she got up and began to dance along, slowly, along with the tune. Her right arm extended into the air, while her left leg pointed behind herself. She was not only an avid fan of classical tunes, but one of ballet, though, she wasn't much good at it.

The rapid injection of notes fueled her fire to dance to the melancholic song. With each graceful move, a smile gradually formed upon her light pink lips. Nothing mattered to her any longer, she was free and feeling as the composer felt. Her movements were as intended if any man were to dance to its rhythm.

Being a ghoul didn't matter to her at that moment, only that she felt human when she indulged herself with the arts. As the song was reaching an end she spun around on her toes and sent a bow to the figurative crowd. Standing up, she heaved out a heavy breath and switched the artist from Chopin, to Tchaikovsky, opting for the Swan Lake piece to lighten her mood.

As she turned and leapt around in her small amount of dancing space, time seemingly passed quicker. Her heart was racing in an ecstatic manner as she spun and enraptured herself to the composition. After an hour of performing for her invisible audience, she decided that her energy was never going to diminish.

Turning off her phone, she laid back down on her bed and stared at the slide-open door to the zen garden in her family's backyard. Sitting up, she furrowed her eyebrows and propped her knees against her chin. "I don't want to bring pain to anyone," she whispered. "I love hearing their joy ..." She frowned and burrowed ber eyes into her knees, her frustration causing tears to build up in her eyes. "It's not like I wanted to be a ... monster."

Her nose suddenly caught wind of a sweet scent, causing her head to shoot upright and nose to sniff of the intoxicating aroma. She smiled. Realization forced her to scold herself for being so happy about the familiar smell: her parents had returned with their dinner.

Even though she knew how her parents' method of targeting was, she still felt pity for the victim. The kills weren't average civilians, rather those that went out at night and wished to commit criminal, damning acts of murder and rape.

"Tsu-chan, we're home!" Dai exclaimed from the front door as he knocked on it two times.

Sighing, she left her bedroom to allow her parents inside. Her father had blood already on his lips, as did her mother; they smelled like the unrecognizable man they had killed. "Welcome home," she mumbled as they carried in a thick, lumpy garbage bag and took it to the basement, which was just a secret door hidden within the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink---it lead to the dirt ground two feet beneath their home.

"Tsu-chan, I'll fix yours how you prefer it, alright?" Ame said from the dining area as she cleaned off her face and washed her hands.

"OK," Tsuki said as she went back to her room and went out the door leading to the zen garden. As she roamed its limits, she admired the white camellias growing around the edges of her room. She frowned as she noticed the single red camellia in their midst. Walking over to the lone, differently colored flower, she traced her fingers across its velvety petals. "You're beautiful," she said as she calmly gripped its stem and yanked it loose, "but you don't belong with the rest of them."

She coldly tossed the red camellia into the small bundle of forestry encumbering her home. Her mother then called for her to eat and Tsuki slid open the door. The lone flower watched as its destroyer entered her home, leaving it to shrivel up and die alone, separated from its fellow camellia.

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