Don't Try to Change Me in Anyway. (Tokyo Ghoul, Uta x OC)

The Mask Man

The bell above the door rang, signaling that the door had opened. Uta looked lazily up at the faint scent of female ghoul that rolled in his shop. "How may I help you?" His soft, monotone voice filled the room.

"Are you no face?" Her words were slow and choppy; she wasn't a native speaker.
Still focused on the sketches for another project he replied, "Why."

"I heard he makes masks, and I need a mask."

Uta looked up at her, his kakugan active and locked in with her tinted glass covered eyes. Short, dishwater blonde hair covered mostly with a gray knitted hat, a dirty red tank top hung lazily off one shoulder and a small bag slung over the other. "Makes sense, you did come to a mask shop after all. I am no face." He turned his eyes back to his sketch pad, turning to the next page he began to draw. "Any allergies?"

She sat on the chair in front of him, "not any that i know of."

"Metals fine?"

"I guess," she shrugged. "Nothing too heavy."

"Half mask or full?"

She thought about it, "full, but with my right eye fully exposed, and my left fully covered."

He looked back at her, "why?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I get motivated when I get to know someone, plus it's an unusual request, most people want to see with both eyes after all; even if one or both is covered by the mask." He continued drawing, keeping her wishes in mind.

She chuckled, "it's my good eye."

"Hmm?"

She took off her sunglasses, "look for yourself." Her left eye was light blue, her right was black with a red iris.

"Only one kakugan, interesting," he sketched some more before moving onto the measurements. "How were you made?" He asked, wrapping the tape measure around her head.

"We're not close enough for that story, hell I don't even know your name, Mr. No-face-MaskMan." she joked.

"I'm Uta," he held his hand out, "you?"

She grasped his soft hand with hers, "Vera."

"So where are you from, Miss. Vera?" He asked, writing down her measurements.

"Where do you think I'm from, Uta?" She questioned.

He glanced at her, surprised with her casualness, "blonde hair, a blue eye, your clothes, your accent," he tilted his head, "if I had to guess I'd say either Europe or America. Native English speakers seem to have trouble with our language the most."

"And if I said you were wrong?"

Uta chuckled, "I'd say you were lying."

Vera bit her lip, "you're right. America, land of the docile. Did you know most ghouls pay to get their food delivered to them?"

"I didn't," he honestly heard very little of ghouls outside of Japan, though he supposed there had to be others out there. "Although I'm not surprised, there's a ghoul run cafe in the 20th ward that gives meat to those who ask, and from what I've heard, Americans are very money hungry."