I thought Tatara needed some more well-deserved recognition. Inspired by other stories featuring him. Set in Tatara's point of view. Enjoy, hopefully!

Walking out of my meagerly dim apartment, I pushed my black sunglasses higher up on the bridge of my nose. The door shut with a muted little thud. I looked back and forth between each side of myself before I casually strode down the hallway, down some stairs, and out onto the swamped streets of Tokyo. Standing still, I watched mopeds zoom by, observing the faint bits of hair peeking out from under glistening helmets. With every inward breath through my nose, I could smell leftover curry buns from the common Kare Pan food truck, salt in the air from an old toothless man's shioyaki stand, fish flakes that had fallen onto the street in front of an umbrella-clad takoyaki cart. I often wondered what they would taste like, if my tongue were of the human kind.

I could stand out here all afternoon, but the drifting food steam would always smell the same to me.

Repulsive. Foul. Nauseating.

But once you blocked those nuisances out, there was deliciousness in the air. The red hot, spicy pulsing of a delicious natural blonde's carotid artery. Strolling by me on the sidewalk, the pale flesh of a university student, seasoned with sweat and oil. A suit-adorned business man, the squelching of his entrails as he bent down to pick up a long-forgotten 5 yen coin.

Ah, Tokyo was like a buffet. Pickled pancreas on a stick. Fermented jugular stew. My teeth picking their little femur toothpicks clean.

Forcing my legs to walk forward with ease, my leather flip flops clopped against the asphalt. Light-washed jeans swam around my ankles, meeting at my waist with a plain white cotton t-shirt. White creamy-colored hair smoothed down against my head, pardon a few hairs sticking up near my cowlick. Ruby eyes hidden behind cheap polarized sunglasses. Breathing normally as I walked, my ghoulish sense of smell detecting every tempting bodily function of humans that passed.

It was daylight, and I had self control. Much more than most.

When you considered the redundant patterns of raw human behavior, blending in was almost too easy.

"That'll be 800 yen!" The young cashier flaunted her pearly white teeth, smiling at me. It was certainly forced. Her pulse picked up, I could smell it. Silently, I handed her the money and moved to sit down in a booth. After my coffee was served to me, I politely muttered a thank you.

Tipping the white cup towards my lips, I took a drink. A mouthful of dark, earthy flavor.

Ah, yes.

Through my sunglasses, I observed my surroundings between each small sip.

Faint sound of the brewing of a freshly-ground French roast. A few childlike fingerprint smudges on the otherwise clean front windows. The aqueous squishing heartbeats of a younger couple a few tables over.

A short brunette with wire-framed glasses outside on the sidewalk, stopping to trifle through her seemingly-messy bag.

Even through the windows' glass, I could smell her.

A sweet honey-coated scent, accented with a light coating of sweat and beet sugar and red bean paste and type B- blood and wagashi cakes. She suddenly looked around, her gray irises freezing at the sight of me looking her way through my tinted glasses. Her face developed a reddish tint, and I could smell every patchy splotch of blood that was embarrassingly pooling under the apples of her cheeks.

My eyes could've rolled into the back of my head, but I managed to keep my composure.

Suddenly, my cup of coffee didn't taste nearly as sweet.

As she started to stumble away, I was quick to finish my drink and stand up from my seat. The late-afternoon color of the clouds indicated that I had enough cover to follow this delicacy until I could get her alone long enough to snap her neck and lick the saccharine scent off of her flesh.

Bowing to my server before leaving, I strolled over to the door and leisurely stepped out. Even if I didn't catch up to her, I could surely follow her sweet aroma. It was stronger without the hindering window glass.

Every ghoul had their taste preferences, she so happened to be mine.

And I couldn't wait to feel the marinated pores of her bones crunching between my molars.

The descending sun was dimming the sky to a pale greenish-blue. She was several meters in front of me, soft footfalls and slow but steady pace. It wasn't difficult to keep up from a distance. Travelling somewhere on foot in a pretty much vacant side street… she made a mistake on her part.

Even from back here, she smelled fathoms better than any street food. She wreaked of a sweet but timid exterior.

So when the stench of lesser human's disappeared, I was quick to sprint forward and roughly grab a fistful of her hair. Powerfully, I half-shoved her in between two run-down buildings.

"Hn!" She whimpered quietly in surprise, just barely audible. Her heartbeat quickened, delicious blood seething through each vein and artery, just out of reach. Grunting, I thrusted her against one of the brick walls of the alley. Her glasses hit the pavement with a sharp tink.

I took a look at her, darkened wide eyes staring up at me as I gripped her hair harder. Licking my chapped lips, she let her bag slide off of her shoulder and thud to the filthy ground. She was very still. A meal this enticing wasn't even a fighter? Tsk, a shame. I usually preferred some action prior to a snack.

Faster than she could comprehend, my front was pressed to her. We were both deathly still against the wall, my nose ghosting just under her jaw and inhaling her rare scent, obnoxiously and pointedly. Her jugular ticked faster underneath her skin, a loud gulp coming from her throat. It almost made me grin.

"If you're going to do it, then do it already," she spoke shakily and softly in a monotone.

My eyebrows knit together. Surely, no one this sweet-smelling could ever exude such a cold demeanor. I found myself chuckling against her skin, low and breathy and hushed. She gulped again, the smell of a fresh blush traveling down her neck.

"Are you frightened?" I whispered.

"No."

My nose sniffed the air once more. "Your pulse tells me otherwise."

She didn't reply, just let out a shaky breath. Hm, she was interesting. My tongue dared to peek out from between my lips and lick underneath her jawline, slowly and knowingly. Her breath hitched, making me grin. She still didn't move. It wasn't like she could anyway, with my long deliberate fingers fisting her hair and keeping her in place.

"This is a bit sadistic for a ghoul, isn't it?" She breathed airily. I didn't answer her. My tongue licked her flesh again, making her give out a small whimper. "I'm not scared."

She remained motionless, intriguing me even further. Why wasn't she struggling? Did she even value her own life? Frozen like this, there wasn't a single emanating drop of survival coming from her. She was poised stiffly against the wall, pressed close to my front, not even attempting to strain against my fingers twisted roughly in her hair. There was no fight in her, just the desire to show off her feigned bravery.

Strength wasn't so easy to fake when her nervous gulps overpowered her quickening heartbeat under that oh-so-tempting flesh.

But she wasn't kicking and screaming at me to spare her negligible little life.

Nose tickling the skin of her jaw, I took one last deep inhale of her honey-coated scent and parted from her. Walking away, hands digging into my pockets. I preferred to fight for my meals.

When I looked back over my shoulder, she hadn't moved. I could smell her salty, frightened tears.

She must not have been as brave as she'd thought.

Sometimes, apathy earns you a second chance.

I walked home, leaving the trembling yet fragrant ace of this Tokyo buffet behind.

Reviews are welcome! I plan to continue this story, but feedback helps. Thanks for reading! \(^~*)/