Sen whistled as she strolled through the Tokyo Zoo. As a well known author, it had become difficult to write in coffee shops or things of the like without drawing attention. The Zoo was a place where she could find a shady bench, sit down, and write for the afternoon.

She smiled and looked up at the sky. It was a perfect day for being outside; the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in sight.

Sen loved to write, and she was happy that she had been able to make a living out of it. It was much more then just a hobby for the twenty-four year old girl; it was an escape. It was an escape from the truth: that she was not really Sen Takatsuki, an author, but Eto Yoshimura, a human ghoul hybrid known better as the infamous one eyed owl. She didn't chose to be born like that, but that's what it was. She was half ghoul half human, and she preyed upon and ate humans. And that was that. Now, it's not like she didn't like humans. They could be fascinating , they could be kind. But they were food, and there was no getting past that.

She shuttered as she remembered the events of last week, when CCG had taken out the coffee shop Anteiku that was home to several peaceful ghouls. Her own father had died that night. She had killed an investigator by the name of Shinohara, and his scrawny partner had gone into flurry of rage, chucking knives at her kagune. She shook her head, pushing away the memories. She had done what needed to be done. So today she would enjoy herself and be Sen. Not the half breed Eto, but the author Sen.

Sen stopped and realized she had been so consumed in thought, that she had walked right by her favorite spot; a bench in front of the giraffes.

She smiled as she skipped back in that direction, thinking of the new baby giraffe. Patchi was the name. Sen loved that name for a little giraffe.

She came to a halt when she realized someone was sitting in her favorite spot. It was a young man; maybe 16 or 17. He was sketching on a large drawing board using crayons. He was wearing a a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and turquoise suspenders. He had on loose black pants that were rolled up to his knees, and he kicked his bare feet back and forth as he worked, a pair of red slippers sitting on the ground. His white hair came down to his shoulders.

Sen chuckled at his dorky yet cute outfit, but her stomach dropped when she saw his right arm. It had an interesting swirl pattern stitched on it, using red thread. She knew that pattern. Images of the shy man she had interviewed came flooding back to her; him and his much older partner, Shinohara. She remembered the fiery rage and pain burning in his red eyes after she had killed his partner. Sen did not know this young man's name.

He glanced up from his art, and his red eyes darted in Sen's direction, and then back to his drawing.

She realized that she had been staring at him. Her face flushed, and then she noticed something on his arms and legs. Bruises. Large bruises. Sen remembered throwing him against concrete, and her stomach twisted with guilt. She turned to walk away, but then she remembered what she had told herself earlier. Today she was Sen, not Eto. Sen had not thrown this person, Eto had. Sen had no idea where he had gotten those bruises. Sen was the outgoing author who had interviewed the two CCG investigators. She had never got his name for her interview. Sen needed to do that. And offer her condolences on the death of his partner. Wait, no. Sen didn't know his partner was dead. Sen was just going to start a friendly chat and get the cute investigator's name for her notes.

Sen skipped over to the pale man, her teal hair flying out in every which direction in the light breeze.

"Hey!" she said cheerfully.

He said nothing; he didn't even acknowledge her presence.

"Don't I know you?"

He put down a red crayon and looked up Sen. She looked into his red eyes, and she couldn't help but wonder what they had seen. She found the unique stitches under his right eye and right bottom corner of his lips intriguing. He still said nothing.

"I'm Sen Takatsuki, remember?" she said, any hope of having a conversation with this strangely attractive man fading. "I interviewed you and your partner for my next book. I never got your name though. Mind if I have it so I can give you credit for the helpful information?"

Still nothing. He picked up a blue crayon and began to color. Sen signed and plopped down next to him, pulling out a pen and her notebook. She began to write about the physical characteristics about her main character when the young investigator spoke.

"Juuzou Suzuya," the man said, not stopping his coloring.

"What?" Sen said, pausing her writing.

"My name. It's Juuzou Suzuya."

"Oh, thank you!" Sen said gleefully, scribbling his name down. "And your partner. I seem to have misplaced the paper with his name. What is it again?"

"Yukinori Shinohara," Juuzou muttered.

"Thanks! How's he doing?" Sen asked. Her stomach wrenched as she asked the question. She knew how his partner was doing. No. She told herself. Eto knows that he's dead. Sen doesn't.

"He died about a week ago," the investigator said sharply.

"Oh my!" Sen exclaimed with false surprise. "That's terrible! What happened?"

"CCG vs Aogiri in the 20th ward," he said, still not looking away from his scribbly, childlike, yet appealing art.

"I'm so sorry," Sen said, with a sincerity behind the words that lurked behind what was simply said. She touched his hand in sympathy, but he pulled away.

The only sounds for awhile were the scratch of Sen's pen on her paper, the scribbling of Juuzou's crayons, the crunch of the leaves the giraffes were eating, and the sounds of nearby downtown Tokyo.

Juuzou started coloring vigorously with a green crayon, and the wax snapped. He just stared at the piece of broken crayon that had fallen onto the concrete.

Sen looked at the blank expression on his face, and then leaned down and picked up the broken piece. She handed it to him and smiled. His face flushed and he snatched the crayon, and then jerked his head away and began to watch the giraffes eat.

"What are you drawing?" Sen asked, peering at his artwork. It was messy, and she couldn't quite tell what it was.

"The giraffes," he said quietly.

Sen examined the picture. "What's all that red stuff?" she asked, pointing giant red scribbles all over the paper.

"Blood," Juuzou said simply.

"Oh," Sen replied, unsure of how to respond to his drawing of bloody giraffes. "So do you like working for CCG?"

He only shrugged, adjusted one of the red bobby pins in his hair, and continued coloring.

"What type of investigator are you?"

"Kind of a special missions thing," he said softly.

"Wow, that must have taken a lot of training, especially for your age! What are you, seventeen? Eighteen?"

"Nineteen."

Sen was surprised, he looked younger then nineteen, but she could sort of see it.

The two sat together for another hour or so, and soon dusk was approaching.

"Well, I have to go!" Sen said, smiling and getting up from the bench. She stretched her back and yawned.

"I should go too," Juuzou said quietly, collecting his crayons and standing up.

"Did you finish your drawing?" Sen asked.

He nodded.

"May I see?"

He turned around his drawing board so that Sen could see. She thought the drawing was actually very good, especially for being done with cheap crayons.

"I love it!" she exclaimed. "It's very abstract, and it catches the eye. You're very talented."

Juuzou bit his lip and looked away.

"Do you ever sign your work?"

He shrugged and began to rock on his bare feet.

"You should! I bet you could make some good money for that."

He just stared at her, and then put on his slippers. Sen walked with him to the gate and they exited the zoo together.

"My place is that way," Sen said, pointing in the direction of her small apartment.

"Mine's the other way," Juuzou said.

"Oh," Sen said, heart sinking a little. "Well I'll see you around then I guess."

"I usually come here on weekends, Mondays, and Wednesdays," he said softly. "Bye Sen."

He then turned and walked away. Sen stood in one place and watched him go. Was he inviting her to spend time with him? He sure is confusing, Sen thought. She turned and began the walk back to her apartment.

She arrived just as it was getting dark. Sen walked grabbed some things from her closet and then walked into her bathroom. She stared herself in the mirror for a little bit, then sighed and began to undress. She pulled off her dark green overalls and yellow turtleneck, then took off her undergarments. She grabbed the bandages from where they were sitting on the sink and began to wrap herself, from head to toe. When not an inch of skin was showing, she pulled on a magenta dress with a hood. She pulled on the hood, and then wrapped a pink, flowery scarf around her neck.

She let out a long sigh, once again standing in the mirror. She had had her fun as Sen for the the day. It was time to be Eto, the one eyed owl- the ghoul.

Not to far away, a young CCG investigator was laying in bed. He stared at the ceiling, many thoughts swirling through his head. Juuzou held up his hand so that the moonlight that beamed through the window could illuminate the stitched designs on his hand.

Why did that author girl talk to me, he wondered.

She had called him talented. At art. The only thing he had ever been called "talented" at was killing. That was good for his profession, but he wished to be able to do more.

His thoughts kept going back to Shinohara. He missed his partner. As much as he pushed it away, he couldn't help but feel that he was kind of the father that he had never had. However, Juuzou decided that was to deep of thinking for himself. He wasn't going to let himself feel any emotion. He shouldn't care. It was just death. Nobody cared. Nobody cared about him, so he wouldn't care about them.

The pretty author was different to Juuzou. There was something about her that he liked. He laid in his bed, flustered on why he had enjoyed his visit to the zoo so much today. He especially shouldn't have enjoyed it because Shinohara had just died. But he shouldn't be sad, because "it's only death" he told himself again. He groaned and rolled over. It was all to confusing.

Maybe he had enjoyed today because an attractive girl had gone out of her way to speak to him. Nobody ever spoke to him unless necessary, and any girl showing interest in him had never really been something he worried about. But now he was getting older and he just wasn't sure. To Juuzou Suzuya, having a girl was a distant fantasy, not a goal.