A metal desk lamp drenched the a mask-maker's workstation in a dingy strutted light in downtown Tokyo. Skilled fingers carved away at the edges of a wooden mask, slowly pushing a metal file along the grain forcing small curls of excess wood to land on the desk. Placing the file down, Uta blew onto the mask sending a cloud of sawdust into the air; eyes as black as pitch traced the smooth edges of the mask, seemingly happy with his handy work he put down the mask.

Leaning back in his chair his hand instinctively went to his throat, his fingers traced the black inked letters of the tattoo on his neck. The letters were Greek but they read in Latin, Uta thought it was apt as it was as contradictory as his own character. Not only that but it had a double meaning for the leader of district 4 turned artisan. It read:

Νεχ ποσσυμ τεχυμ ωιωερε, νεχ σινε τε. - I can live neither with you, nor without you.

He thought the phrase embodied the relationship between ghouls and humans perfectly. Uta's usually stoic expression changed as his lips upturned slightly, there was also a ghoul he could also neither live with nor without. His mind flicked back to the years she he was known as the 'peacemaker' of the fourth ward, the years when he was younger, more blood thirsty and volatile than the mask-maker he had become. At times even now he thirsted for the blood soaked concrete of the 4th ward, and a heated pair of crimson eyes meant only for him.