Author Notes: This is my first Tokyo Ghoul fanfiction, it's a one shot. I recently watch TG and read the manga, so I decided to write about my favorite character which is Uta. This was when he was teenager back in the 4th Ward so he may seem different from the anime. This one shot was written with the intention to explore Uta's character when he was younger and more savage. I know that some people hate Uta for what he did to Kaneki, but I personally like him more because of it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Tokyo Ghoul or any of its character, I just own some carrots.

The 4th Ward was inhabited by monsters. The ones that lurks and hides within the general populace. These monsters hunt down the flesh of humans, and would rip a man's heart from his chest without a second thought just to satisfy its hunger.

These monsters are called ghouls.

A young man, perhaps in his late teens, walked with hands in pockets in a back alley street of the eastern end of the Shinjuku ward. His light blond hair was swept back and held by a hairband, and he wore a dark leather jacket along with faded grey trousers. He had a lip ring that hung at the right side of his lower lip, and several piercings on both earlobes. A person who saw him from afar would think he was one of those hooligans that one should do their best to steer clear of, however that is until they got close enough to see the colour of his eyes. Red iris and black pupils. By then, said person would be hurrying away as quickly as they can trying not to draw any attention to him or herself. For this man's name was Uta, and he is a ghoul.

The Shinjuku ward was a major commercial and administration centre of Tokyo, housing the world's busiest train station, the Shinjuku Station, and holds an estimated population of around 350,000. However, to the CCG, an organization dedicated to the eradication of ghouls, it was also known as the 4th Ward, a breeding hole of ghouls.

Uta strolled through the empty street, kicking aside the occasional empty soda cans that rolled on the concrete pavements as a gentle wind blew by. At times he would let out a loud sigh, and it would echo off the lonely walls of houses that were long abandoned by their owners in light of the news of increased ghouls' activities. He was bored. A ghoul's life had no goals, except survival, and he was more than good at surviving. He picked up a geisha mask from a toppled rubbish bin. The pink and black paint had came off, leaving only a semblance of white. There was a large crack across where the nose was, and there were chipped edges on the chin. Shoddy workmanship, Uta thought, and he placed his middle and ring fingers in his mouth, between his teeth, and bit down till blood was flowing. Then he painted over the crack and outlined the eyes before finally drawing a twisted smile to replace the mask's lips. The mask looked much more menacing now. Uta smiled. Perhaps he should start making masks?

He continued down the street after tossing his new recreation back to the bin. It was early afternoon, and normally most ghouls were more active during the evenings and nights than in daylight, but Uta was more liberal in his ways. For example, he didn't hide his eyes like the others, the most he would do was put on a pair of shades when in crowds, he like it better this way. And it's not like he meets that many humans anyway. He was not a the outgoing type of person, the only reason why he was out here now was because he thought a good walk downtown might elevate some of his boredom.

But now, it seemed that it didn't help. Maybe a short meal might do the job. He turned a corner, crossed the narrow road used mainly by bikes, then hopped over a low wall of a yellow house.

No one lived in this particular house. The yard's grass and weeds had grown to considerable lengths, reaching midway of Uta's shin. The smell of rubber was in the air, it came from the blown tires of an old Toyota Cressida parked nearby. Occasional patches of green moss dotted the peeling yellow paint of the house's walls, and the windows were boarded up. This was one of the feeding grounds, where ghouls would lure unsuspecting humans to before silencing their empty screams. The path leading up to the front door was littered with fresh blood.

Well, Uta hadn't lured any human, but he reasoned that if a ghoul was inside he might be willing to share his food, if not, then a little persuasion was needed. He walked the stony path without disguising his footstep, no need to be sneaky at all. He knocked the door twice. A mangled noise sounded from within. So there was someone inside, he thought and then turned the door knob.

"I'm coming in," Uta called out as he pushed in. "Oh it's you, Oda-kun."

Oda, a large ghoul of muscular build, lay on the floor with an arm and a leg missing. Blood flowed freely from various cuts, and the large gaping hole in the back of the ghoul's waist where his kakuhou should have been was especially noticing. He tried to speak, but flinched in pain because of the slashed wound inflicted diagonally across his face. Then slowly, he managed to mouth the words, "U-Uta-san…"

Uta walked further into the room and glanced around. There was another ghoul, he was dead though, head cleanly sliced off and lying several feet away from the body. The ceiling fan had collapsed, the walls separating the rooms partially destroyed, Oda's dismembered arm pinned lifelessly on the shredded couch, and a lone portrait of a human family lied in tatters. What used to a fairly large living room was now a mess. Uta knew that a fight had taken place.

"Oda-kun, would you tell me what happened here?" he asked, walking over to the dead ghoul's head.

"D-Dove. He came without warning-" Oda managed to say before coughing out more blood.

Uta picked up the head, eyeing it precariously before plucking out an eyeball. The eyeball was not in its kakuhou state, but Uta could see the red lines of vein that ran through the white of the eye. He tossed the head back to the ground, but kept the eye. "I've been a lot about this one dove lately. Did he have a briefcase?" He looked at Oda who nodded weakly. 'Rank 2 or above then, eh? That would explain how he has been killing ghouls so well, there's been at least seven deaths in the past week alone. This dove is good. Do you think I could take him on?"

The mortally wounded ghoul nodded again, and Uta walked over and squatted in front of him, gazing straight into the red black eyes. "I'm glad that you have faith in me, Oda-kun. I have one more question though," he said. Oda stared up at the blond ghoul's piercing studded face from a decumbent position and saw a wicked grin twisted across his expression. A crow cawed outside, and the clouds drifted over the sun, drowning the area in temporal darkness. And in a completely different tone, Uta asked, "What do you think of cannibalism?"

The blond ghoul chewed the eyeball in his hand, and the crow flew away.

Maeda Shinji sat alone, waiting for his coffee to be served by the one waitress of the coffee shop. It was a small shop, around six hundred square feet big. There were only eight tables, all round, and well set-up. A beautifully painted mural of Tokyo city was plastered on the wall. Shinji was the only customer right now, the others having discreetly left after seeing the crusted blood splattered on his grey overcoat. Small clumps of dirt could be found entangled in his unkempt curly hair, and there was a revolting smell of something rotten reeking from his body.

The shop manager had wanted to call the police if Shinji didn't leave immediately, but he had received a glare from two blood-shot eyes that were circled by dark bags of many sleepless nights, and was frightened to inaction and told the waitress to serve him quick, hoping that he would leave soon. His black coffee arrived in a tray, the waitress departing as soon as she came. Shinji dropped a sugar cube into his cup.

At thirty-six years of age, Maeda Shinji had seen more than enough action in his years at the CCG, having been promoted to Rank 1 a couple of years back. Nicknamed the Crazy Ass by his colleagues, a number of his former partners had requested a transfer within the first week of acquaintance. This led to a special exception made by the Chairman to allow him to work alone rather than the protocolled partnership of two. He preferred it this way, for no one else could match his passion for killing ghouls. He dropped another cube.

When he first began his career as an investigator, he was in the 8th Ward, then was moved to the 12th, then 6th, so on, and now 4th. The constant reassignment was most likely due to complaints made by branch leaders. He didn't care though, as long he gets to kill ghouls. A third cube.

He didn't hate ghouls though. He just loved killing them. Even during his time in the Ghoul Academy, while most learn the most efficient way to kill a ghoul, he would retreat to the back of the class and drift into sweet dreams of torturous deaths of ghouls. He's living the dream now isn't he?

The forth cube, and the dark liquid was now overflowing, spilling first onto the saucer plate before dripping down to the table.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Shinji saw the waitress hesitate coming over to clean up. Then a wild thought crossed his mind. What if the waitress was a ghoul?" He chuckled to himself rather heartily, and to any outsider looking without context, he looked like a madman. Now he was staring at the waitress who squirmed under his gaze. She was in her mid-twenties, fairly short, innocent face with big round eyes, and had dark long hair which was tied into a little bun that sat at the top of her head. She could be a ghoul, he though, innocence is only a façade. He beckoned her to come over.

She clearly didn't want to, and made an excuse about being needed in the kitchen, but she came nevertheless when he urged her again, however reluctant she was. He noticed her hands were shaking as she clumsily wiped the coffee-stained table.

"What's your name?" Shinji asked her.

"Tamura Yumia," she stuttered.

"Yumia, huh? That's a beautiful name."

"T-Thank you." She bowed.

"Tell me, Tamura-san. Do you know what I do for a living?" Shinji asked, instantly drawing a nervous reaction from the girl.

"You're a ghoul investigator aren't you?" Yumia said that quickly.

He shook his head. "No." That earned a puzzled look from Yumia. "I'm a nightmare. Not those nightmares you get once in a while and are harmless though. I'm a persistent and very real, and I hunt those that don't belong in this world to the very end. Why, you ask? Because it's beautiful, it's the most beautiful thing to see; the blood of something that isn't human." His voice had started low, but by the time he finished, his volume had reached a crescendo, causing Yumia to back away slowly with each word. Then he softened his voice again, "Of course a human need not fear me." He smiled wickedly at Yumia and took a sip of his coffee.

In the end the manager had found the guts to call the police after Shinji wanted to test if Yumia was a ghoul. They arrived in a manner of minutes, and Shinji nearly incapacitated them before he realized that Yumia was human. An honest mistake, he told them. They took him into custody anyway.

Two hours later, Maeda Shinji walked out free from a police station. It took several phone calls to various personnel in the 4th Ward's CCG headquarters before the multiple charges of assaulting an officer were dropped, even the branch leader was drawn in. The process took longer than Shinji had liked. During of which, he received a phone call from one of his superiors, demanding he returned to HQ immediately after and explain himself.

He didn't listen very well. A waste of time, he had grumbled. So instead he took a bus downtown, and got off after five stops at the suburban area. He paused, checked his briefcase to see if the police had done anything to it, then disappeared between buildings and into the alleys.

Evening was settling in, the sun nearing the horizon as the sky grew dark in shades.

Uta was on his way home, which was an empty storehouse which served as a hideout for many ghouls, and he cut across a kindergarden's vegetation grounds as a shortcut. Heads of carrots could be seen peeking above the dark soil, their green leaf blades sprouting like an open flower. There were plastic shovels and a blue watering can set aside by the walls of the kindergarden building, and Uta deduced that these plants were planted by the children. A cute little area, it was nice for the kids.

And it was here he encountered a ghoul investigator.

The investigator had a big chest and large arms. His hair was dirty and messy, and his face would twitched uncontrollably at times. He carried a silver briefcase, twenty-two by fourteen by nine big. The investigator was barring Uta's path, and it doesn't seemed that he would move any time soon.

"Don't doves usually come in pairs?" Uta asked his opponent.

A wild grin cracked across the investigator's face. "You're a ghoul," he said.

"Yes, my name is Uta, nice to meet you."

"Maeda Shinji. I see you have manners."

"Where would I be without them, Shinji-kun?"

Shinji laughed. "Well, we certainly wouldn't have this conversation," - he smirked - "because by now you would have been dead."

"I guess it does pays off to be sincere then," Uta said, unfazed by the off-hand remark, then he asked, "Would you by any chance be the one on a ghoul killing spree?"

"I am."

"That's good to know. Now, Shinji-kun, I know we just met, but would you do me a favour?"

"Of course, why not?"

"Let me hit you first."

The investigator broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. "You're a crazy one, Uta-san. I've never met a ghoul like you before, very interesting. Alright, one hit, after that you're dead."

"You're unique, Shinji-kun, I never thought you would accept." Uta gave an innocent smile.

"You have a nice tongue, Uta-san, I'll be sure to gut that out first."

"Certainly."

Uta walked forward towards Shinji, who true to his word stood still, briefcase by his side. He could now see the investigator's eyes clearly now, they were sunken and bloodthirsty. This should be fun. The air grew stale as only a mere foot separate the two of them. A smile, then a soft flick of Uta's middle finger on Shinji's forehead, a soft thud resounded. "That's a hit," the ghoul said.

And without a moment wasted, Uta ducked as Shinji swung his briefcase at his head, and then twisted away from an incoming kick. Shinji's quinque was out in the next second, a red-katana with a bone hilt, and it came right at Uta. The first downward slash missed wide as he sidestepped with ease, but was forced to jump when the katana changed direction suddenly and slashed sideways. The edge nicked his shin, but it did not deter him, and he spun in mid-air and swung his foot at the investigator's head. His foot hit air.

Uta landed on the back of his feet, and he twirled with momentum on his heel to deliver a back-handed strike at Shinji's abdominal. The hit connected, and it sent the investigator stumbling back several steps. The investigator was tough man, Uta thought. Another man would have been winded and stunned for the blow would have knocked the air out of his lungs. He watched as Shinji straightened himself. "You're pretty good, Shinji-kun," he said.

Shinji spat at the soil ground. "This is fun, Uta-san."

Suddenly a rain of dirt obscured Uta's vision as soil was flung into the air. Then a sword thrust emerged from the downpour and pierced his left shoulder. Blood spurted, mixing with the dust, dirt, and soil. It was a sharp pain, but Uta enjoyed it nevertheless. He allowed the katana to pierce further, then punched Shinji in the throat when he got within range. The investigator chortled in his breathing as he recoiled backwards, and the ghoul pressed his advantage, slamming an elbow across his temple. A normal man would be unconscious by now, but not Shinji. Instead the man staggered like an off-balanced boar, shook his head, then drove his katana further into Uta. More pain, more joy.

The two were face to face now, both sweating with blood, which dripped and ran down from their bodies, falling upon some of the carrot's leafy heads. They could smell each other's breaths, both stank, but neither minded. It was like they were having the time of their lives rather than a fight to the deaths, the fun was simply too great. The ghoul smiled at the investigator, and then proceeded to ram his knee up his stomach. Shinji coughed as the air was forced out of his thorax, but he managed to straighten himself to receive Uta's next set of blows. Another elbow, then back to back right hooks, at least he had the ghoul's left arm pinned with his quinque.

It was on the sixth punch to the jaw that Shinji finally broke away in pain, pulling the katana out of Uta's shoulder as well. His body had taken a beating, yet it looked like the investigator still wasn't going to back down. Uta was in better shape for being a ghoul he had regenerative powers, however his left arm would be out of the question for the rest of the fight. He liked the odds, nevertheless. "Shinji-kun, do we have to kill each other? It's much more fun if this drags on rather than have an ending to it" he said.

The investigator shook his head. "Sorry Uta-san, it's just that I love to see dead ghouls more."

"And so you do."

The investigator lunged with his katana. Uta dodged it, then ran and picked up the watering can by the wall. He felt there was still a little water inside, and he swung it by its handles, its content spraying onto the pursuing Shinji. The water momentarily distracted the investigator, and Uta threw a roundhouse kick that caught his opponent unprepared and sent him to the ground.

Shinji saw danger, and he rolled away before Uta could descent on him, kicking another cloud of dust as he hastened to stand up, his quinque dropped in the hurry. The sudden mobility caught the ghoul by surprise, and Shinji snaked in and rammed his knuckles forward to break the ghoul's nose. Uta staggered back, and Shinji immediately dived after his katana.

However, Uta was faster. He was a ghoul, and though the investigator was no slouch, a ghoul had a natural speed advantage over humans. And in one swift fluid motion, he stepped on the blade of the katana barring the investigator from picking it up, spun on the balls of his feet, and raked his heel down on Shinji's head.

The investigator's head slammed down to the ground, and his body went motionless.

Uta had put all his strength into that back-heel kick, and it was no surprise that that ended the battle. He smiled. He had enjoyed the fight greatly, and it was a shame that it was now over. Never had he fought someone with this power, never. He loved it.

"It was nice while it lasted, Shinji-kun," he said to the lifeless body. "Too bad it had to end this way."

He turned to leave. But then, the investigator's hand shot forth and grabbed his ankle.

"N-No it's not, you're not dead yet," Shinji spluttered out.

"I'm afraid it is," Uta responded, kicking away his hand. A while ago he would have surprised that the investigator was still alive, but having first hand experienced his strength, he knew that this man was no ordinary man.

He watched as Shinji struggled to one knee. His head was bleeding profusely like a watering hose with a loose tap. There were cuts and heavy bruises all over his face, his eyes bulging in their sockets. And even though Uta had only met him a short while ago, he was now unrecognizable. Even his voice was a shamble mess, "I must kill you…"

"Why so?" Uta asked.

There was silence, then came the choking response, "Because it's beautiful…"

Uta blinked. He was glad he decided to go for a walk today; it proved to be too interesting. Beautiful, what did it mean? He gave the investigator that innocent smile again, and said, "You're truly unique, Shinji-kun."

And with that, he threw himself backwards, jumping off the kindergarden's wall and using the momentum of his recoil to drive his bunched fists into the investigator's chest. His fists erupted from the other man's back, and the blood felt ice-cold to Uta.

Shinji's head fell forward first, then his entire body slumped.

Uta pulled his hands out of the dead investigator's body, and then buried the corpse in the children's garden of carrots before leaving for home with blood all over him.

Author Notes: Tell me what you think of it, don't worry about being negative. Give me all the constructive criticism as possible. While I do appreciate one liners such as "lol good job!", I personally prefer to have detailed in-depth reviews that tell me what I did wrong and how I could improve. Don't worry about the review being TL;DR, I will read every word of it. You can be as blunt and direct as possible, and I won't mind. My biggest concern is for you guys to enjoy the story.

On another note, if I ever do write a multi-chapter story in this fandom, it will probably be about Uta and Yomo's past. I am really interested in the 4th Ward. But so far no plans have been made, so I don't know about it.

Also you may have noticed, but Uta didn't use his kagune in this fic because in the manga, it is shown that he purposely withholds using it for some reason. So I thought I would keep the same here as well, that, and I honestly have no idea how to write a kagune fight scene.

Tell me if I should bump this fic up to M rated.

Well, that's the end of this one shot, remember to favorite, review, or PM me if you want. See ya.