Mourning Doves | Tokyo Ghoul

10 | M a s k e d

The ride on the subway was short, since the Fourth Ward was literally next to the Fourteenth. She followed Uta down the nearly empty street, seeing it was almost midnight already; her golden eyes slithered from side to side, highly alert with the man in front of seemingly in a similar sort of tension, though his appearance seemed lax and thoroughly laid back. It was how Uta always was these days - at least for the most part - and it really annoyed her how composed he was sometimes.

They burrowed deeper into the district, turning into a rather trashy alley and arriving in front of a mediocre-looking shop, the cracking concrete walls littered in graffiti and the crimped metal sheets of the garage orange with rust. Uta opened the heavy black door, motioning her in as he stepped aside. Etsuko nodded at him, entering the small space with her chest growing heavy with recollection; she trod down the stairs and entered into the shop itself, cracking open the door and slipping into the chambers. It hadn't changed much since the last time she was there, and it was spotless as usual.

"Would you like something to eat?" the ghoul asked her, shutting the iron door with a creaky slam. "I have some food stored in the back."

"I'm fine," she declined simply, walking over to a display case on the side and plopping down her purse upon the glass. She took a look around, eyeing the grotesque, heavily detailed masks hanging upon the walls, displayed on mannequins, and lay somberly in the glass cases for the eye to stare at, amazed. His artistic ability was top notch, that was certain, and his masks were always incredibly beautiful.

"You should get one yourself, you know," Uta murmured from the opposite side of the room. "I've been stowing some good mask ideas for Mad Temptress."

Etsuko turned around, a smirk teasing upon her glossy lips.

"Are you just saying that because you're in need of business, Uta?" she jeered.

"Hardly," the ghoul muttered, leaning back against a display case. He tilted his head back slowly into a counterclockwise motion, his eyes eventually catching hers as they rolled around the room. There was a moment of an eerie silence before he spoke up again. "So how've you really been?" he asked her darkly.

Etsuko eyed him threateningly, her own kakugan coming into view.

"Shit," she answered blandly, spitting in disgust.

A playful glint flickered across his eyes.

"You sure look like it," he teased, eying her skeletal figure with distaste. "Such a shame, too - you had such a nice body back then."

Etsuko hissed, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you want to die?" she seethed, her expression turning sour.

"That'd be such a waste though," Uta sighed, rolling his neck in the opposite direction now. "To die and leave this shop. What would the ghouls do to keep their identities from the Doves without me? Probably not with style, that's for sure."

Etsuko chuckled grimly, ruffling her white bangs.

"Yes, it'd be such a shame," she jested, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

There was another silence that washed over them, letting the solitude swallow them whole and numb their ears; they could only hear the sounds of their hearts pounding in their chests, which only intensified the tension between them.

Uta flickered his eyes over to her again after a while, their gazes locking for the longest time. He took a steady breath.

"It's really been a while though, Etsuko-san," he sighed.

Her lip twitched up into something of a smirk.

"Now don't get all nostalgic on me, Uta-kun," she teased. "It hardly suits your style."