Dear Takizawa.
In a way, he always wanted to be special. But to his dismay, he was exactly ordinary. As average as average could get. He wasn't born with any talent that mattered, or anything else that could set him aside as someone ''special''. Average looks, average height, average strength, average intelligence.
His home life was laughably normal, and even a bit happy – he had both parents, a sister, and even a dog, all of them loved him, more or less. That cliche backstory of a sad family life, or no family at all – he didn't even have that.
And as he went through school, and nothing out of the ordinary happened to him, as he never suddenly developed a talent that set him aside from anyone else, it slowly, but surely, began to dawn on him.
He was to be average forever. Just as much as of a background character as everyone else in this world. All those ''background'' characters around him, as he lived through his regular life, were the same as him. He was them, and they were him. Somewhere, inside his mind he realized that, probably, most kids his age thought those same thoughts. That he was so average, that even his daydreams were cliche.
But he couldn't accept that. That kind of a life was way too cruel.
He started to study harder. He trained his body. He tried out various sports, but not a single one of those sports interested him. Kicking or throwing balls wasn't fun, and he wasn't very talented. In track running and swimming - his body wasn't made for it. Certainly, not enough to be ''special''. In the end, he just trained his body and that was that. The only thing that the whole experience gave him were barely noticeable six-pack abs and slightly wider shoulders.
He never found his calling. A thing that could be his, and only his. Something to stake his whole life on. Not in school. Never even making more than a handful of acquaintances, nor a girlfriend.
Even an ''average'' school life had slipped through his fingers. But he was ever so sure, that an average life didn't even interest him. He wasn't like those other school kids. Reading pretentious books for his age, it made him sure of it even more.
He graduated near the top of his class, and then he went on to join the CCG Academy.
Looking back on it, it was kind of laughable, that he decided to join the CCG. Of course, the reason he always gave was that old women, a neighbor of his, who got slaughtered and devoured by some hungry ghoul. Things of that nature never happened in his average neighborhood. And in time, when he was done with high school, he was sure, that becoming an investigator was the only path for him.
He laughed at himself, now. Maybe in a way, he could spin that whole ''dream'' into something noble.
''I wanted to become a ghoul investigator because I wished to protect the people from ghouls.''
''I wanted to become a ghoul investigator because I wished to protect my family.''
''...Because I wanted to help in the creation of a better world, where people could live without fearing for their lives, from those vile beasts called Ghouls.''
...
''Because I wanted to be special. Because I wanted to create a difference in this world. To be remembered.''
...
''Because I was sure that I was special. Because of how special I am, I could be the one to destroy the ghouls and save the world. I could be the great hero. I could make a difference.''
Out of those options, the most selfish, most cruel option was the correct one. The last one fit him the most.
In the Academy, he thrived. His work ethic from his school years, along with his physical training, he quickly rose in ranking. He didn't rest, he didn't take time off. He studied, and he trained. He literally did his best.
But the very top was always out of reach. The top of the tower, the throne of the best of the class was always taken by Mado Akira.
'The difference between 100% and 99% isn't one percent.'
And those words, no matter how bitter they sounded, coming from his mouth, were undeniably true.
People are not born equal. Anyone who thinks that is stupid, or simply ignorant.
Some people are simply born genetically superior. Like Mado Akira. Her monster of a father, and her mother. Both of her parents were amazing CCG investigators. She was born to be great. Her intellect, her strength. She kept cool in all situations. It all came to genetics, and luck. Even in training, she was already making waves. People recognized her greatness.
Mado Akira was more of a ''main character'' type than him.
And it didn't matter how many times Mado Akira stood at the top of the list, her name etched above his, as always - he never said anything. As Mado never really spoke to him, he didn't have to speak in platitudes. But he never humiliated himself in front of her or anyone else. He congratulated her, with a calm expression. From the sidelines – it probably looked like a friendly rivalry.
Because for most people, be it top 1, or top 2 – the difference wasn't that important.
But for him, it was the world.
Mado Akira probably could tell from his eyes. He couldn't hide his contempt. But, that could be denied. Some people just had a cold glance, and an angry resting face.
Maybe he was one of them.
It hurt, to be, quite literally, less competent than that woman. No amount of training or studying would allow for him to reach and overtake her.
He had to accept that. But even with that knowledge, he was too bitter. He remained in denial, thinking that he could be something better.
...He hated that woman.
In the training, he always heard about the one man who was above anyone, and everyone.
Arima Kishou.
If he was a manga character, then perhaps people would call him a ''Gary Stue''. A character, who is so ridiculously powerful and perfect, that it could be called bad writing. A man who had never once lost. He had defeated the One Eyed Owl just a with a borrowed qinque. He took out droves of ghouls while still being a teenager.
Life was funny, in that sense.
Arima was a God.
And in that realm of God, he had no right to stand in it. And he would never.
...But because he could never accept himself to be so insignificant, he wished to become like Arima. Just because Arima was a symbol of indomitable will. Of an unstoppable force. Of someone who could make a difference.
Everything began to crash down around the time he was deployed to the 20th ward. With passion and drive in his heart, he got burnt.
Pushed between a rock – Amon Koutarou, and a hard place – Mado Akira, there wasn't anything more to do, but just to humiliate himself. And he did, many times. Whether it was a drunken rant, just plain old mismanagement of his own feelings, or getting punched by a CCG detective prodigy of a lower rank than him, it didn't change that single thing - he was pathetic.
All he could do was to talk big. About being promoted, or being strong. Wishing to be put into important operations and investigations. But those remained as wishes.
That house of cards collapsed in on itself, just before the Owl Suppression Operation. Faced with the very real fact of dying, he was terrified. When a chance to prove himself came around, he became terrified of his own mortality. It wasn't just talking anymore.
In the end – he was just your average human. He wasn't destined for greatness. And as he tried to force his destiny – it pushed back.
Perhaps, that was the world's payback. He wished to be the hero, as he played around with his life.
But this life had consequences.
And perhaps it was punishment, for his arrogance. For playing a hero. For trying to become a ''main character'' in this story, where he was nothing but a throwaway character with a name.
He should have died.
When Noro bit half of his torso off, he should have died. He even got to go out in a ''heroic'' fashion.
Gone and forgotten.
But he woke up from that nightmare, to find himself in hell. Dr. Kanou. Aogiri Tree. SS rated Tatara. Eto. Black Rabbit, etc, etc.
If you decide to look at your life in a single timeline, then there was no doubt in his mind, that his timeline had a huge, jagged line dragged across it, separating his life in two parts.
One part could be called Takizawa Seidou – the immature, human brat.
And that other side of that jagged line could be called OWL 15 – a monster of those days.
The idea is very simple – you remain unbeaten and strong. You fight back against your torturers, and never, ever break. And then, when the time is right, you break out, and turn the tables on them.
Because of course – you are the hero of this story – and the hero always wins over the evil.
But that's nothing more than a dream. Nothing more than fiction.
He shattered. He broke. A million pieces of himself, all of them jagged. Never ever to be put back together.
And then, he stopped fearing death. He had died. Takizawa Seidou, the CCG investigator was no more. Fear from death is, in the end, the fear of the unknown. And when you know death, you don't fear it anymore.
Takizawa Seidou. Owl. A one-eyed ghoul. The only success between the 63 experiment subjects.
He couldn't remember most of what happened. He was too out of his mind, too drugged, too hungry, too much in pain.
The human (?) mind is certainly surprisingly hard to kill. It makes you adapt. It makes you forget. It prioritizes surviving, and nothing else.
To a ghoul, as it turns out, hunger is an near uncontrollable reflex. It makes you go crazy. Only the strongest of the strong could hold themselves back from feasting on the succulent, delicious human meat. But even if it wasn't the hunger, then it was for the pleasure.
Everything was pain. There was no way to stop the pain. Dr. Kanou was a scientist first, and monster second. And such a combo proved itself again and again to be as vile as human being can be. Kanou was a genius of finding different ways to torture him. Of course, he called it ''experiments'' and ''tests'', but from the side on which Takizawa sat, it wasn't anything else but pain and humiliation. He wasn't anything but a ''subject''.
Eating the delicious human meat was the only way to subdue that pain, if only for a little while.
If he was the tragic hero of the story, he would have held back. He would have suffered in silence and starved himself into nothingness.
But that tragic hero was Amon Koutaro. He held back. He was strong enough – physically, mentally. Branded a failure of the experiment – but a successful hero. He fought back. He denied them.
Amon Koutarou shone like a star. Dazzled blindingly, with the strength of a martyr.
But he... was just your average human...no, your average fuckup mess of experiments. A former human. A current monster.
So he feasted on that food. On that innocent human meat. He did those things, from which he swore he'd protect people. He was a failure of a CCG detective, a failure of a human being.
It didn't matter whose meat it was. He was no longer human. He was nothing. He was Owl. He was a killer, a monster, a beast.
...A ghoul.
And still, the punishment for his arrogance continued. It far outreached even himself. The family that he so always took for granted, he had to take it away himself.
Since they tasted so, so good.
...This was it, then? It was.
'A tragic backstory, in which his family is killed'. A very overbearing staple of a tragic hero.
It happened – he killed them. He ate them. There was no choice in the matter.
He ate, he ate, he ate. Devoured, consumed, ingested. He drank those liters of blood. Even when he was full, bloated, he had to eat. They made him eat.
He was at fault for it all.
Since – he wanted it. To be special. To be strong.
And he was.
Perhaps, he was the tragic villain. The monster with a tragic backstory.
But at that point, he only flipped between wanting two things.
'I want to die.'
and...
'I don't want to die after all.'
But it didn't matter. He ate. He killed. He screamed in pain. He screamed, and screamed and screamed.
No one came to help. Of course, in those early days, he still dreamed of CCG coming to save him. Maybe an operation to destroy the Aogiri tree would come, and CCG would save him. Him, Amon, everyone else.
In time, he gave up.
Help would not come.
...even if, he could somehow escape...
There was nowhere to run back to. There was nothingness. He didn't have anyone, or anywhere to go back to. Those were taken away. Dr Kanou was a man who he dreamed of skewering. Of destroying him, with his bare hands. As Kanou was a human, and he was a kakuja one eyed ghoul, he could tear him into ribbons. He could feast on his insides, scramble up his genius mind, and eat it like raw ground beef. He could tear his limbs off, one by one.
He was so strong, that with a single swipe of his arm he could tear that man's head off.
But in the end, he never got the chance to do so.
He accepted that role. He was a ghoul. Owl.
Owl of the Aogiri tree.
And so it went. He gave himself up for that carnal pleasure of eating. Of feasting on human meat. A single bite of human meat tasted like the greatest home cooked meal your mother could make. Blood was pleasure in liquid form.
The fight with Kaneki Ken was something that had to happen. It was destiny.
Takizawa...no, Owl had to prove himself. He had to see the previous creation of Dr. Kanou with his own eyes. After all, he was ''just another Kaneki''.
That's exactly why Kaneki Ken deserved to die. If it wasn't for him, then Takizawa could have died before he was turned into Owl. That split life timeline would have simply ended at that jagged line. And that kind of an outcome would be the best for everyone, him included.
But that didn't happen.
Most of what he remembered was his own anger. Someone so weak was Kanou's first half-ghoul.
A shitty fucking joke, it was.
And after dominating ''Haise Sasaki'' for a while, and then attacking Chan-Hina, everything else was a blur. He remembered seeing Mado Akira, and laughing at the absurdity of it all.
After that, he didn't fucking care. He just went on and did what he was told. He laughed in the face of Ayato ''Rabbit'' Kirishma and feasted on the fact that the girl Ayato had grown so fond of, had betrayed them and got herself captured by the CCG, of all things.
As Ayato pleaded for Tatara to rescue her, he just found it so fucking hilarious. His laughter echoed, but nothing could be done to stop him. Because he was right. Even shitty Tatara agreed. Ayato's expression burnt into his mind, he held his stomach in pain from laughter.
But in the end, that laugh was hollow. It was amusing, to see his capturers suffer. To see them act human. As soon as Ayato was gone, he went back to his unhinged poker face. Because when he couldn't see Ayato suffer, it wasn't funny anymore.
The whole world was a one big joke.
So he laughed.
'Haha.'
After that, he killed more and more. To him, it felt as if he was a true Aogiri member. When he was a CCG investigator, it never felt like he was respected. He never was strong. He was never given anything proper to do.
Aogiri tree, however, found him useful. His strength was nothing to be laughed at. Dr. Kanou had found other subjects to focus his mind on, and thus, he was more or less left alone. Tatara, or Eto, ordered him around more often than not.
It wasn't bad, to live as a ghoul. He used his strength to take most of what he wanted, and that was how he lived.
However, he wasn't loyal to anyone. He simply waited for an opportune moment. He wasn't in a hurry to go back to anywhere, or anything after all.
And it came. On Rushima Island, when CCG invaded it, and he saw his old partner and ''friends'' fight Tatara.
Perhaps, he was even more crazy than he first assumed himself to be. Because at that moment, somewhere deep inside it felt as if the CCG had come to save him.
And then, he decided to show of his strength, and become a 'hero'. He jumped in last second and saved Mr. Houji. Then he disabled Little Bin for the while and stole her quinque. Then, he turned his glare towards Tatara, and demolished him, even in full kakuja.
And as he took his heroic stance, welcoming his old friends, old comrades, he heard those words.
''Exterminate the SS-rated Owl.''
Even they forgot his real name. And then, they told him to die. And just because they ordered him to die, he did the opposite. He killed.
And then he screamed at the world. He screamed at himself, for dreaming of being a hero. These previous comrades were weak, so weak. Their weak human bodies collapsed, tore, shattered as his bare hands ripped them apart. A single kick, and an investigator's head went flying. With a stolen quinque sword, he decapitated Houji. The towering man, the great Ghoul investigator that he so much looked up to, who was one of the strongest men he'd knew, died by his own hand.
He started to believe himself, he started to believe that he was strong.
One hand wrapped around Akira's neck, he stood there. Millions of thoughts racing through his head, he waited for Amon to attack. He knew, that he was there. His ghoul nose had felt him a long while ago.
And so, when he interjected and took off his arm cleanly from his own elbow, he could only question his heroic entrance. Couldn't Amon have saved the rest of the squad, and not only the cute Mado Akira, his previous partner?
And with that anger, Owl threw around 'floppy' and showed that man what it meant to be a ghoul.
Still, Amon was a hero. A main character type. Even then, even after so long, he was still a human, through and through. And he spoke of saving him.
He didn't need to be saved. Not anymore.
He beat the shit out of him for insulting him like that.
But in that madness, back up came, and as he didn't take it seriously at all, he got the tables turned on him. Never once was he in any kind of real danger to his life – because he was just that strong. His regeneration skills kicked in, as he simply rested, thinking about this fucking joke of a life.
So when Akira decided to jump in to 'protect' him, he was at a loss. The women, who he hated, and which had just before told him to go die, was now protecting him.
It was probably because he was a fool, that that slight sliver of hope reared it's head again. So, he played along. As he caught Amon's cross, and listened to those words, he decided to save the woman who had tried to save him.
Showing his best evil face, he took his new found ''hostage'', and ran off, Little Bin in tow.
That was how he met Kaneki Ken's group, after that named the ''GOAT''.
Being with them, the faction of the ''One Eyed King'' was odd, and in that oddness, he got caught up with his 'promise' to Amon, and thus, he actually felt stressed about Akira.
At least, that was what he tried to tell himself. A person could probably hate and care for a person, at the same time, right? Those days with Aogiri were such a blur of dark emotions, that now...
He just felt out of place. Even if he was with the GOAT, the apparent ghoul who killed Arima Kishou, the CCG's reaper, in a hideout – it just felt so calm. In comparison to the lovecraftian horror image of the Aogiri tree hideouts, Kanou's laboratories...it was too casual. Too normal.
He had to force himself to not think about the life that ''Takizawa Seidou'' had, before Aogiri Tree. Because being in such a calm, normal apartment reminded him too much of his former life.
Still, for that while, he lived almost like a regular ghoul. He laid low, kept out of sight, and crashed with the GOAT.
For the most part, he inadvertently gravitated to be around the other freak of nature like himself – Kurona Yasuhisa. His ''big sister''. When they weren't hurling insults at each other, they trained a little bit, or every once in a blue moon, they spoke about their pasts. Sometimes they spoke about their CCG academy days. And only a couple of times she spoke about her twin sister, who she obviously loved very much.
And sometimes they hunted together. Rejects like the two of them naturally fit together. Well, that and the other, simple reason - Nor Owl Takizawa, nor Kurona held that holier than thou attitude towards neither killing humans, nor ghouls. Some of GOAT did hold it. Especially the remnants of Arima Kishou's squad.
To Half-assed ghouls like them such moral quandaries didn't matter. It was way too late to worry.
Life wasn't worth that much anyways.
As for feeding, it was just an coincidence that they ate mostly other ghouls. But even that had it's bonuses, since it increased their strength, and with the amount of CCG movement around, it was needlessly hard to get humans.
Not to mention that because of ghoul attitude, they often attacked first, and so Takizawa and Kurona pulled their heads off their shoulders. It wasn't often that Takizawa or Yasuhisa had to actually put any effort in. Fighting street trash ghouls was child's play, after all. They couldn't compare to CCG, to Aogiri.
The disgusting taste of a ghoul's body was nothing for the strength of kakuja.
It was mad to rely on that power with his mental damage, but well – he was probably clinically insane, indeed. Somehow, it didn't bother him too much, as the months passed, he only worried about that damn Akira Mado.
Besides that, some remnants of Aogiri tree and Kanou still remained. He still had yet to kill them. And if Amon was still alive, he was indebted to him, in a way. Even with all of the free time he had now, he could only spent his nights sitting on top of buildings, staring into the night sky and thinking about what to do. After all, he couldn't sleep well. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a good night rest.
The nightmares were relentless and merciless. His destroyed mind and psyche had to rear it's horns sometimes, after all.
And Eto, or rather Takatsuki Sen as she revealed herself, the girl to whom he answered the most, and did the things she asked, was in Cochelea, as far as he knew. Even he wasn't as crazy as to go after her there.
From the very beginning, the mummy-like childish figure called Eto was horrifying. There was something about her that made Takizawa flinch whenever she looked at him. Perhaps it was the way she smelled, or the way she moved, or how her bodyguard didn't even act alive. She knew a little too much, and laughed a little bit too long. Even in Aogiri, she was just too much. Whenever she commanded him to do things, she never once raised her voice or even spoke in a commanding voice.
For her, the whole thing seemed like a game.
He didn't even know what had happened with Aogiri Tree. It collapsed overnight. He killed Tatara, the biggest figure head. Ayato and the White Suits were with GOAT now. Even Little Bin was somewhere close. No one with any significant strength was left to take the throne. And besides, most regular members were killed.
He considered killing Naki, that shit for brains, but he was literally too stupid to be worth killing. His death wouldn't sooth his anger.
Ayato was a child chasing little Hinami, and now he too was with GOAT. There was no reason to kill him. Their paths only had crossed when they glared at each other. He held no anger for little Hinami.
In the end, the only good option was Dr. Kanou. He was smart, and the reason for why he, T-Owl existed. The reason for his whole suffering. And besides, to let him feel the fruits of his labor – for example, to tear his limbs off, one by one, felt like good comedy to him.
Before Takizawa ran off on his own, the leader of GOAT decided to go after the CCG's labs, to get the RC suppressant for Akira. With a shrug, he offered to help, telling himself that it wasn't solely for her.
Not only could he fight, but he could identify that nightmarish smell anywhere. And seeing the expression on Kaneki Ken's face, Takizawa knew that his experience with it was roughly the same as his.
And in time, he understood that that particular decision lead to the rest of his life.
Getting into the CCG's labs was easier than he assumed it would be, even without killing anyone. When they ended up finding the lab with most of the RC Gas, Takizawa laughed at himself.
It was a bitter laugh.
The CCG had Amon Koutarou, and they were holding him in a fucking jar. With the RC Gas destroying his recognition of smell, and Amon's existence there disturbing his attention, one of the CCG's lab workers released Amon.
It took a single exchange of glances for Takizawa and Yasuhisa to decide to work on it together. It felt right for her. After all, Amon was their ''little brother''.
'I'll bring you home,' was the only thing that Takizawa could think in that moment. It was the last human-like moment he had. This was his way of repaying them both – Amon, and Akira. He was set on it. He staked his whole life on it.
He'd bring Amon back to her, and that would be it. He'd be free from his ''debt'' to those two. And then, he would live his life.
Even if he was out of his mind, in a half-kakuja state screaming at the world, he could be brought back. Amon never gave up back then.
That was the only thing that mattered. Amon hadn't stepped into the ghoul side of the world. He didn't belong there. And that was the reason for why T-Owl could win. Why he could beat the berserk Amon.
Amon was still human.
BUT HE WAS A GHOUL.
HE WAS OWL.
He wasn't as pathetic as Amon was at that moment. He could control himself, even as the kakuja birdcage formed around his face.
His kagune ripped apart as he exchanged blows with Amon, but it did slow the huge man down. He was being hurt by his attacks. Takizawa was clawing his way to a victory.
Back then, in the recesses of Aogiri tree's base, Amon shone bright, brighter than any star. That such a man existed, with that strong of a conviction, and such strong morals on which he never went back on, only pained him.
He was envious, really.
In a way, it was very simple.
''Amon Koutarou never gave up.''
and,
''Takizawa Seidou died in that cell.''
Only that part mattered – the one who gave up was plunged into hell, punished for his lack of strength.
And the one who didn't give up, Amon Koutarou deserved to go back to Akira Mado. To go back to a life of a human. To go back to a normal life.
But Takizawa, he had no future. And that was why he wished to be able to turn back time. But even for a ghoul, that was an impossible feat.
So Takizawa made sure that the Amon, who could still go back, did go back - he brought him back, as his last job. His strength as a ghoul triumphed over Amon's, and he reached him. The human inside the kakuja form.
As Takizawa laid there, his mind and body in shambles, only the other half-freak, Yasuhisa helped him get back.
And so, the two artificial ghouls brought the ''human'' back home. To the place where he belonged. To Akira.
For his whole life after that point, Takizawa wondered about Amon's cross. He had forgotten to give it back.
Before leaving for good, he spoke to the king of Sheep, Kaneki Ken.
The worries of Kaneki Ken, the GOAT, Amon or whoever else were not the worries of him. The co-existence of the species of the world, or how to fix such a world weren't his business.
It had nothing to do with him.
His purpose had expired. Takizawa Seidou, the CCG investigator died in that prison. That human, that person didn't exist. Only Takizawa, Owl, the ghoul existed in this world. And even at that, it was only fleeting.
He had decided on it clearly. His freak of nature body would carry him for the rest of his twisted life – the life of a ghoul.
The only thing that was left was to give back that cross to Amon. However, meeting and speaking with him was something he didn't want to do. So he tried to use a proxy – Kaneki Ken.
He foiled Takizawa's plan, by seeing through him. He refused to give Amon back the only tie to this world that Takizawa still had. And thus, he held onto it. He grasped it so hard that he thought he would bend it out of shape.
They spoke for a bit. There was only a single more understanding glance between the two artificial ghouls, and he leaped off the rooftop, into the coldness of the night.
Into the rest of his life.
He roamed around for a while, even met Little Bin. He played around a bit, trying to play up his own freedom, pretending to enjoy it. The tension was high, but he didn't care too much.
He still was, free. Slowly, like a slime, he felt himself become more and more like just another ghoul. Hide the fact that he was only one-eyed, and no one would look twice.
Of course, Takizawa never expected for the whole world to change almost overnight. The worries of Kaneki Ken, of the GOAT, of Amon came to fruition. Perhaps such a thing only served to give heed to the thought that if you really tried to fulfill your dreams and never gave up, that literally anything was possible.
Because to him, frankly, this sounded just like a sick joke. The cruel and cold world showed favor to the outcasts, to the monsters. After hearing the rumors, he couldn't hold himself off from laughing into the night sky. His laughter echoed loudly.
But nobody ever saw the expression that he made.
Just when he resigned to be just another ghoul who killed, they supposedly didn't need to hide anymore. Still, such a life of mingling with people...he didn't deserve it.
Because he had given up on himself. On being a human.
And he had also given up on this world. And yet...
The world did change. It wasn't unmoving. Ghouls and Human's found ways to coexists. With humans of the CCG, and Ghouls of GOAT on the frontier of it all, everyone woke up to a brand new world.
He never believed in himself, nor the ghouls, nor humans, nor the world. His sins were far too heavy.
So ''Takizawa Seidou'' never returned. From that point onwards he was only known as ''Owl''.
Many years passed.
''Owl'' kept his life as a ghoul. He vanished into the darkness of the uninhabitable wards of Japan and lived like a proper ghoul. He killed anyone who stood in his way and feasted on their insides. Eye for an eye, dust to dust. His strength went unmatched.
In a way, it could be said that he tried to repent, because the rumors about Owl held partial truths – Owl killed ghouls who deserved to be killed. And when he became too well known and feared, he disappeared into the night again, and changed wards. It was only partial, because Owl also killed for food. Because he killed for anger. He killed because he wished to kill.
Outside of Tokyo and the nearest, most peaceful wards, ghouls still lived like they always had – a life of debauchery, killing and eating.
The love and comfort of Tokyo had yet to run it's course to the furthest corners of Japan. Not everyone wanted to live peacefully. Such a thought was asinine to most of the living ghouls after all. Perhaps a pipe dream, perhaps a joke.
Something that sounded too good to be true. And Owl didn't fault for not wanting to live by these new rules.
He too, was a true ghoul of the old era. He killed those who didn't live by rules of the new era, while not living by them himself.
But that was probably why all of those memories ran through his mind, as he ran across the three tops. His ghoulish movement reflected years of living like a vagabond. His black robes swayed from his movement, and even his hood fell back, revealing his shoulder length white hair, rustling from the wind. His ears twitched from over-exertion, as he stopped listening in. He was too late. The screams and shouts from the battlefield were over. The TSC investigators had been defeated.
He stopped in his tracks, standing a top of a tree that reached further towards the sky than the ones around it. In the distance, he could see Tokyo itself. It felt like an unbelievably long time to him, but he felt nothing else more than that. It didn't feel like returning home.
It was raining lightly.
It was inevitable, for this to happen. The rumors reached to all fronts of Japan, about Shikorae. Such a twisted, insane ghoul who was pretty much the last bastion, a remnant of the Aogiri tree. He fought and fought against humans, and had earned himself a high praise of being one of the most wanted ghouls of Japan.
But to Owl, Shikorae was just a mentally insane, twisted, sick fuck with who he often fought together back in Aogiri. His nose, having been trained in these years, easily caught the scent. It was barely familiar, but made him recall those days clearly. Shikorae was always off, in more ways than one. Almost as if his brain had been permanently scrambled. But it wasn't the time to reminisce about the past.
As he moved forwards, the trees became so sparse that it became useless to use them for cover. He jumped down, landing softly in the grass. He moved forwards, without a care.
It had been a battlefield, where he stood. Just a few minutes ago. Now it was a graveyard of torn TSC investigators. Shikorae and a band of his followers were feasting on these humans.
The ghouls around him looked at him, their kakugan eyes dazzling. A few of them got up, and started to move forwards, closer to Owl. Covered in blood, their clothes ruffled up.
He was surrounded, out-manned. He should have been scared. But instead, Owl just smirked. In a single instant, as red glinted in the air, the ones closest to him got torn into shreds. Owl glanced downwards, biting down on one of his fingers. The crack echoed over the field. In a split second, he had released his kagune.
His single kakugan shone deep red, that eye wide open, the other one narrowed into a slit. His expression was twisted, and it brought actual fear into the ghouls surrounding him. He stepped forwards, and tore the head of one of the ghouls straight off of it's shoulder, and poured the scattering blood all over his face. On the background of his black robes, the blood turned into stripes of dark purple.
Such an action was half for the energy of RC cells, and other half for intimidation. Among those ghouls, some recognized him from the rumors. And those some tried to run, while the others attacked, but it ended in the same way.
He killed them all. Ripped them to shreds. Scattered their insides. Pulled their limbs off. Crushed their necks. Vivisected them with his kagune.
And yet, Shikorae hadn't even looked at him. His body was twisted and torn, disgusting and retched. If there was a way that straight evil looked, then it probably looked like Shikorae. If it hadn't been for his white striped remnants of a sweater, it be hard to even recognize him from appearance.
''Yo shithead.'' Owl's voice echoed over the clearing. He cracked his neck to the side, glaring.
Only then did Shikorae bother to look at him. He froze for a second, realizing that everyone except them two were dead. His two wide eyes shone out of from the disfigured face of a monster. He could hardly be called a ghoul anymore.
''Anything still in there? Are you even conscious of what is going on?'' Owl asked, leaning his head to the side, unnaturally. ''Or are you too far gone?''
''...Zawa...''
''I don't go by that name anymore,'' He answered to the half-moan of that monster. ''I've come to kill you. Monsters of those days have no right to remain in this world anymore. The rules have changed, and those who can't adapt should perish.''
''...Mean...mean...''
''...There's no place for us anymore, so...''
Owl's whole body convulsed, his bones cracking and creaking, his fists clenching, the lurking darkness of his mind trying to take him over. A birdcage-like mask wrapped around his head, his full kakuja wrapping around his body.
In an instant, he had already decapitated Shikorae. It went flying for a second, before it pulled back to it's own shoulders by ropes of flesh. Spinning around, his kakuja wrapped leg grazed Shikorae's stomach, and catapulted him towards the trees, as Owl unleashed a barrage of shards from his kagune wings, dashing after him.
He only fell back for a second when his arm went flying off into a random direction. Such an overwhelming force of strength hadn't mattered at all. Shikorae's nightmarish form jumped on top of him, trying to pin him to the ground. Many different kagunes burst from his body, skewering Owl. One of them even shattered through the birdcage like mask.
Shikorae was beyond strong. He wasn't surprised about it, of course. After all, years had passed between the last time he'd seen him.
And Owl...he was beyond strong too.
With a howl, Owl's arm reached upwards, grabbing into Shikorae's face. His iron grip tightened, Shikorae's already disfigured face cracking under the pressure of his grasp.
'' DIE.''
The claw like fingers of Owl pierced Shikorae's face, as he used his wing-like kakuja kagune to push himself upwards, and flung him through the nearby trees, with his physical strength alone. He grasped a piece of a corpse nearby, the birdcage mask opening up. With a sickening crunch, he took a bite out of the severed arm, and then he dodged a barrage or kagune shards, following him. Some hit his body, but it didn't bother him at all.
As he landed, he dashed forwards, swinging his kagune, and Shikorae did the same in response. Their limbs went flying, blood splattered, as they regenerated again and again. As soon as Shikorae began to try to attack with his numerous kagune's, and in his kakuja form, Owl tried to cut them apart.
Both were taking heavy damage, screamed, and shouted, but never stopped moving.
As the fight went on, their movements grew more and more feral. Unnatural movement, too fast and wild to be predicted, purposefully taking damage to damage the other, Owl taking bites out of nearby corpses as he dashed around.
He backfliped into the air, spinning a few times, and firing a barrage of kagune shards towards Shikorae, grabbed into a nearby tree with his kagune, and launched himself into him, severing Shikorae's neck again.
And so it seemed that he was getting slower in regeneration.
But Owl himself, was covered in wounds that felt more like festering than healing. He sighed, his eyesight stuck in tunnel vision. His heartbeat trying to punch out of his chest. His hand was numb, his hearing – buzzing. Through that buzzing, he only heard Shikorae's howling.
And yet, he still didn't feel like the proper monster he was suppose to be.
Once again, he dashed towards Shikorae, ignoring the incoming shards. His foot slid over the grass, planting itself into the ground. In an instant, his fist drove itself into Shikorae's stomach.
He recoiled from the impact, his howling cutting off in that instant, as he went flying backwards. With a howl of anger, Owl dashed after him,using his kagune and his arms to impale the ghoul mid-air, as he took a chunk out of the ghouls face with his teeth. He landed on top of him.
Lingering above the man, his single glowing eye as wide as it could go looked down into the other ghoul's eyes.
''LET'S DIE!''
So he let that anger consume him.
The world fell away. Pain did, too.
He was strong. He was the strongest.
BECAUSE HE WAS OWL.
When he came to consciousness, he was using his only arm to feast on the remains of Shikorae's body. His whole body felt as if on fire, bleeding. He was eating like a feral beast, starved to death.
His black robes were torn and barely holding together above his waist. Only his black pants, tied at his ankles had remained. His guts were perforating through his stomach. One of his legs was twisted into a direction it shouldn't have, a few times around at that, while over all over his body chunks of meat were missing. One of his arms was gone.
And yet, he had survived. His body was covered in blood. He leaned backwards, on his knees.
And he screamed into the sky.
He ate and ate, trying to fill himself as quick as possible. Shikorae's body was disgusting. But to keep him dead, that was the only thing he could think off. He devoured and destroyed the ghouls multiple kakuhous. The rest of his ravaged body was scattered all across the field, in pieces. The ghoul's face was half-smashed, as inhuman looking as ever.
As he began to rise to his legs, he vomited back up some of the meat, undigested. His leg had healed enough to hold him up, but his overall status was near-death.
His breath was getting louder and more as the time passed. After having frozen in place, he looked around to find his missing arm, but decided that it was pointless. The whole field was littered in corpses, limbs, bones, and blood. The scenery had changed after their fight. One shattered arm with black fingernails would be hard to come across. Or perhaps, Shikorae had eaten it.
He couldn't remember most of the fight, anyhow.
But he won.
He tried to move forwards, but fell over. His legs barely could hold him up, not to mention trying to run away.
He shifted his body to the side, looking sideways. The skyline was interrupted by the Tokyo skyscrapers. It appeared that there were many more than he could recall.
After a while of rest, clutching his stomach, he dragged himself, on his knees, across the field, and rested his back against a tree. His single arm grasped at the cross on his neck, as he pulled it off. The chain, which he had replaced, unlatched open.
His vision faltering, he looked at it. He used his whole strength, as he grasped his palm into a fist.
Nothing happened to the cross. He could barely form a fist.
''...Haha...''
Still leaning against the tree, he used his legs and the support of the tree to get himself up. As he rested his head against the bark, he closed his eyes, again. The birds were singing somewhere in the distance, away from the city view. The rain had subsided.
He stepped forwards. One step, two. A few more. He was slouching, his just recently shattered spine and rib cage barely holding him upwards, but it had healed enough to move.
The cross hanged off, out of his scarred, and blood red arm.
Just out of his reach, the remains of Shikorae laid, unmoving.
He turned away from him, and raised his arm towards the tree that he had rested against. Some branches reached downwards, to where he could reach.
Perhaps, he was still not over everything he had done in his life.
Perhaps he wished such a feat would absolve him of his sin. After all, Shikorae was the named the biggest threat of humanity. And with his own power, he had defeated him. Torn him limb to limb. So, he was ''the hero'' who slayed the beast.
Back in those days, he wasn't strong enough to remain human. He wasn't strong enough to protect his family. There were too many regrets to count.
But this wasn't one of them.
He was sure of it. Even if he died from his injuries, the regret wouldn't come to him.
Maybe he had finally become the ''tragic antihero'' of those fantasy stories.
But he didn't want fame or honor from this feat. He didn't want any of the blame, or any of the responsibility.
He only wanted to erase his own sins. The nightmares that hunt him day in, day out. And he knew, that those days wouldn't ever come. He couldn't reach them, with that body and mind. But the world would always need ghouls like him – of the old days, who weren't afraid to kill and destroy.
And as long as those ghouls would remain, he would go on living. As a ghoul. As Owl.
His arm still wasn't regenerating. He was still out of breath. The world was spinning on their axis, in his eyes. He had probably taken too much damage. Maybe Shikorae had damaged his kakuhou too severely. Since everything was pain, he couldn't tell.
But he couldn't die right there. Not where people could find him and identify him.
The chain of Amon's cross slid out of his hand, and landed on the low tree branch. The cross dazzled in the sunlight, swaying back forth with the wind. After a single, lingering glance, he clutched his side with his only arm, and stumbled into the forest across from the skyline of skyscrapers.
He was sure that he would spent a lifetime trying to get it right.
Author's note.
Takizawa is one of my favorite characters of all time. Perhaps I have mischaracterized him, but I feel like I could relate to him way too much, and that is why I wrote that, which I wrote. He was the tragedy that never got happiness. He never deserved such a fate. But as I wrote the story from his perspective (in 3rd person), his thoughts bloomed.
The end of Tokyo Ghoul came too quickly. And I will always wonder what exactly happened to the story there, at the end, but Ishida Sui, is undoubtedly a genius of his craft. So this is my tribute to the fandom. He created characters that were vivid as life itself.
And after reading the last chapter, and seeing what he wrote for Takizawa in that last chapter, I laughed to myself, because that is exactly what Takizawa would do. And then, those words flowed across my pages. I have always wanted to write for Tokyo Ghoul but I could never find the right words. I've never felt good enough in writing to write for Tokyo Ghoul. I felt like writing for Tokyo Ghoul would intrude on the brilliance that Sui had created. Only now, that it's over, I was able to write something. I still don't think I'm good enough, but well, that's for another day.
Thank you, Ishida Sui, for all the years, for all the tears, for all the characters, for the world.
And yes, the title of this chapter is a tribute to Eto's book Dear Kafka. Someday, I wish to write something for Eto. Because she didn't deserve the end she got.
Thank you for reading.