A/N *Demongo voice* I Have, RETURNED!

Hey guys, I missed you, hope you had a few good weeks without me, I am just glad to be back.

So, to start things off, this is the second to last chapter-yay!-but, it will take time to post the last chapter, as I found a job that takes a lot out of me and my time, but that won't stop me. I hope that this, and the last chapter especially, will please you guys, and that you enjoy it, as I have enjoyed this journey with you.

You guys are awesome, have fun reading, and don't forget to review, I love to reply when I can.

Chapter 14

Interlude to War

They had moved everything from Naruto's apartment in but a few hours, which, having henged clones, made the whole thing a lot easier to accomplish, and whilst they were moving the blonds things, Kaneki had come across a notebook. She decided to go through it, as the surface and cheapness to by the likes of it led her to believe it was nothing truly special. It was because of this that she wondered if it was just full of doodles. The one-eyed ghoul smiled when she found some drawings of toads on the first page, all dancing with a man having white, long jagged haired, wearing some sort of metal plate fronting his temple and some strange clothes. It was when Kaneki turned the pages, absently skimming, that her small smile changed, a raise of the brow elicited from what she found there, and a pinched look set upon her surprised face.

Immediately past the doodles was a fluent myriad of characters, smooth in the letters, as if each word was not only carefully written, but picked and pieced together with great focus. A narrow look caught her face when she read a few random lines, and she quickly closed it when coming across a certain scene or two. Eyes wide, she stared at the cover of this little orange book-as there was no doubt such words and at such length were merely absent thoughts-for this was a novel indeed. A very pervy one at that.

Quickly looking around, seeing as everyone was either moving things-the clones-or were talking with Naruto-Rize and Kaguya. As secretly as she could, Kaneki went to the end of the book, wondering still why Naruto would ever write something like this, and upon reading the last sentence, she found the novel unfinished. She looked at the date that the notebook was made, and the last page written in, finding that Naruto had not touched pencil to paper in a month or two. Odd, as it seemed that this orange, pervy book was almost done, yet the blond had yet to complete it.

Rubbing the side of her face, Kaneki wondered why she was thinking about this so deeply, but she also guessed that, as an advent reader herself, she liked to finished a novel-though she may not pick this naughty book up-it still needed an ending.

Taking the notebook up in her hand, Kaneki decided to confront Naruto about it, perhaps press him to write the rest of it. Maybe he would publish it, who knew? It was no Egg of the Black Goat, or The Hangman's McGuffin , but she knew the men audience-and maybe a few women-would enjoy his work.

When she came to the blond, who was enamored in a conversation with the other two women, she smiled. He was using that...henge was it? And it looked as though he was someone else entirely, the same height and physique was there, but his hair was black, slicked back, and two ruby eyes glimmered in faint amusement under such raven locks that were once sun kissed. His whiskers were gone-which she admittedly liked to rub with her thumb-but it gave him a handsome, near roguish look. He was less sunshine now, more down to earth almost, but it was still that same voice, graveled at the edge of his tone, yet filled with easy chimes in a summer breeze. It was still Naruto.

When the conversation ended between the man and two women, and in the absence of words was her presence taken to, Naruto asked her what she had in her hand. Lifting it up for him to see, she saw his gaze grow, and he was quiet, his lips pinching in a half frown. It was less that he was mad or anything negative like that, but rather, it was surprise that took his visage, which soon divulged into a self nervousness, complete with that lightly shaking tremble, the same motions a child might make when they knew they were caught doing something they weren't supposed to.

"So...you found that did you?" He reeled in on himself, an anxious grin taking his cheeks, as if he knew he might get hit by her, any woman he knew back home would have knocked him right into a mountain if they knew he wrote that. But, he was flabbergasted by what she did do, when she lowered that notebook, and handed it to him, a small, innocent smile, a genuine perk of the lips, and not a look that falsified the possibility that he was getting a beating.

"I think you should finish it." Kaneki told, arms behind her back, rocking on her heels.

Well...Naruto...Naruto wasn't sure how to respond to that. Maybe women in this world worked differently than the ones in his. Either way though, still, Kaneki knew what this book was about, and perhaps read some of it, and yet she was not angry with him. She seemed to genuinely want him to finish his little novel, despite its contents. Naruto grew a smile, soft upon his visage, as he thought back to why he started this book in the first place, as a reminder of the pervy sage-mainly. He dedicated a few chapters to Kakashi-as he knew he loved the series. He even placed the setting in the ninja world as he had known it, real people placed under a sheet of new design and name, but still, people he had encountered at a brief point.

It was later after this, that after scouring the city, the group had come across an unused, quite uncharacteristic, warehouse, set in a very distant and remote part of Tokyo. It was a bit dirty, grimy even, dust and muk that flittered in the top rafters or stuck to the cement floor like clay. The broad windows were mostly broken, if not cracked in a spider webbed fashion. The roof-a metal sheeting that was rusted in most spots-would leak in even a drizzle, and the structure of the whole place, in general, was not all too sound, if only questionable.

Naruto claimed it was perfect, absolutely in both location and structure. The three women gave each other this look of confusion and wariness towards the whole thing, as if asking the other, is he really considering this place? But Naruto was not shifted, even when Rize or Kaguya spoke out against the unsound structure, which looked ready to collapse. When Naruto said it was fine, just as soon as he said this, a board fell and clattered against the cement floor. They raised their brows to him, but he waved off their concerns.

"Listen, if I was afraid that I would get hurt, if this place collapsed, I would tell you. I have been hit with things you can't even imagine, and they are nothing compared to a building falling on top of me." He paused, considering his words, then continued with, "If it makes you feel better, I will place some seals up to keep the structure safe enough for you."

That seemed to ease the wariness that the girls had, enough that they ceased in pressing him for another place to hide.

Naruto came to reside there, for quite some time in the following months, and since Kaguya had no real use in the banding of ghouls, she remained at his side, in that warehouse, sometimes leaving for a walk or to get food-when she insisted to do so. Kaneki and Rize came and went from there, sometimes together, other times alone, and often or not, he was able to hang out with each of them by their lonesome. With each of their passing's and goings, he yearned for them to return, as he had little to do but finish writing that book by Kaneki's insistence.

Sometimes, he would get frustrated in the day when he wrote, and he would throw his pen or pencil-whatever it was that was in his hand-across the warehouse, watching in his own ire as it clattered and tinkered across the cement before rolling to a stop. When writers block ceased in holding back his words, they flowed like milk and honey, swift and sweet, holding even the most bare of sentences with a sensation that tingled the skin with raised hairs or goosebumps. After a month of profuse, unadulterated, anxious filled days and nights, he completed it.

He came to submit the work under the name of the man he dedicated its creation to, Jiraiya. Naruto was surprised to find that, upon submission of the novel, it swiftly grew to be one of the most picked up books. Icha Icha Paradise: The Toad that Leapt Over the Moon.

That title spread amongst all people-he even began to hear of translations for other countries!-as if it were wildfire on everyone's lips. Naruto felt pride. Pride in his work, pride in what he did, what he dedicated the piece to. When news reached him first of its commercial success, he could almost feel the pervy sages eyes on him, and hark was a sunshine smile of days yesteryear illuminating through the tragic world to bare on Naruto, for he had done well.

One night, when he seemed all alone, when Kaguya was on her nightly walks, and Rize was managing the forces, Kaneki came to him in the still of the cold starlit night, slipping past the large doors of the metal building and striding on soft trodding feet towards the blond. He was awake, sitting in his rolly chair next to his desk, pondering, prodding his own mind for things that he only knew little of, yet sought clarity towards. So engrossed in his existential thoughts that Kaneki was able to stand right behind him, hovering, watching him think. When he noticed her shadow at last looming over him, he took first notice of something different, of her hair having gotten longer, and pointed that out.

"It looks good." He told shortly, tilting his head back as she stood above him.

"I think I need it cut though." Was her absent reply, half sure of her words to come true.

They stared into the others gaze for a while, the rims of their eyes faintly shifting, and somehow, the passage of time seemed to not matter as they grew deeper in understanding one another. Kaneki slowly shifted her head down towards him, her hands scouting atop his shoulders-which began to grace down his chest. Naruto felt his cheeks burn with hers, especially when her ash white hair reached him, turning and twisted against his visage, tickling the whiskers on his cheeks. The tender moment was interrupted abruptly as Kaneki's eye began to blacken where white was, and redden where grey usually stood. Little lines of red veins extended from the area around her eye, next to her cheek.

"Oh," Kaneki flustered, standing straight once more, covering her single Kakugan with her hands. Naruto's brows pinched high together, concerned for her as he turned around to stand from his chair. Kaneki reached into one of her pockets, grabbing and pulling out a white medical eye patch. When it was donned over her eye, Naruto caught a small glimpse of her ghoul eye once more before it was covered. The half-ghoul crossed her arms after that, trying not to look Naruto in the eyes as he could only watch her for the longest time.

"Is it...is it that bad?" She asked, trying to keep their gazes from locking again.

Naruto had yet to speak, and in the absence of words, he instead came before her, placing his large hands on her shoulders, and still without speaking, stared on at her with his wide blue eyes, worry flashing amongst his gaze. Kaneki didn't complain when he gently pulled the eye-patch off, dropping it as he stared on at her. When Kaneki gained the nerve to look back at him, she saw herself reflected in those orbs of oceanic sapphire, saw the mirror of what defined her as a human, and hither saw what made her a monster. Of both control and rage, of duel things in all natures, she saw in him that thing that outlined the basic existence that could only be: of love and love lost, of anger foot-holding itself in hate to pry apart the walls of sanity, in Naruto Uzimaki, Kaneki saw Life as it should be. Her gaze danced across constant war fires blazing in his eyes, those pools of swirling sapphire, and of a hope that persisted with the peace that could come thereon after even death.

In the matter of finding these things that were constant in the man's gaze, there was a swift act, yet it happened in such a way that Kaneki had yet to realize what persisted on smooth motions. It took her a moment to realize that they were kissing, holding the other in an embrace. Kaneki found that it mattered little whether she was aware of the act or not, or if these actions persisted, for there was only the spontaneous flame between them, bursting from somewhere out of no where. Just like those ethereal-like eyes of his. Just like life itself. His hands found her waist, and Kaneki found his whiskered visage, those cheeks of his were brushed against by her slimmer digits in but a few short moments. Soon, both found the mattress, and both Naruto, and Kaneki, found that this night was not so still after all.

Somewhere in the city of Tokyo . . . .

On her nightly walk, Kaguya had come to find many things amist the city, many interests to fall into, or things that garnered the attention span of someone who used to be a goddess. She remembered one of her nights when she began to see the duality of this tragic world, the first half, the human side of things. Kaguya remembered meeting someone who wore his sorrow on his sleeves, someone who was just another human.

Lights flashed as if screaming in personified voices of vendors that night, they were merchants of luminescent beams shining over each other, yelling their products without words, as if their nonexistent life depended on it. Colors conflicting in reds and blues, with large bold lettering as their shapes. The white haired beauty had come to love walking these streets, but what happened on this route of hers soon stirred her to choose other roads.

On her walk, she came to see an old, grey'd man near an ally-way exit-remaining amongst the ally itself-squatting down with his back against the building's wall. He seemed to hold a look on his face that told of grief, a stricken look, however, no matter how many people came to pass the old fellow, they would stare straight ahead, remain quiet, or plainly ignore him completely. A cruel thing to do to someone, anyone, she thought to herself. Kaguya thought him a pitting sort, and without words herself, went and sat down by him there in that ally. He didn't notice her at first, staring only ever onward with those sad, dead eyes.

The former rabbit goddess turned and set her pearly orbs on him, silent for a long time and ever still, and it was nearly a half hour until he took to noticing her. His voice was hoarse from not speaking for so long, and gruff, speaking with reserved words of aged stone. Now he asked her why she set her eyes on him in such a plain look, yet Kaguya spoke naught. The man asked again, but stopped, then asked if she'd like to know why he's sitting here, sad as a waning sycamore. Kaguya, still, said nothing, but looked on with attentiveness, chin raised, willing to listen. The man took that as a sign to speak.

He turned away for a moment, a cord in his neck jumping as a memory pricked his mind then, and from this, his eyes shimmered in the brand flashing lights above. Wet with returning grief, his gaze returned to hers, and he spoke in a compound of anger, sadness, and of something that eluded words themselves, of emotion all know yet cannot describe, of when someone close has been lost along the road of life.

He spoke of a son, bright in mind and kind at heart, hope of a good future set on his shoulders. Pride swelled when the old man told of the boys achievements and goals, but soon his voice eluded to sadness, as he told the truth behind his grief. A ghoul had come and taken his son from him, his son...his only family was eaten. Left bare of flesh with not a speck of flesh left. The funeral was short and closed off, a shut casket was at all times. He was buried in the countryside, or so told the weary man. The old fellow went on to talk about the string of monthly incidents around the area where his son was murdered, and after collecting the information he could, had deducted when it would strike next, saying he was ready to face the ghoul. He planned a route the ghoul took on its month awaited eating trips, like a lone wolf who preyed on a circuit of humans. He said the ghoul would be in this area in a week or so, and when it showed up, the old man said he would fight it, die trying.

A seven days later, the old man was never seen again.

On the present night that Kaneki visited Naruto, Kaguya came through a park, a stark contrast from the blare of ads that flittered through the main part of the city, the only light was that of the full moon, the stars, and the lamp posts stretching through out and between the occasional wood benches, edging the side walks trailing about. Being who she was, Kaguya felt no fear even in the darkest of that tree and bush fitted area, only a calm that came in the night and the walk she took.

When she walked through the park that night, the month there after meeting the old man, she saw in the sidewalk distance a pale fig'r, lit in the ivory presence of the moon. It was a lanky sort of a person, whom shook when a particularly frigid breeze of wind blew through. As she came upon the thing, Kaguya saw that he wore no clothes, 'cept a ragged pair of pants that seemed far to old and thin to do anymore than protect his modesty.

He had grey hair for a young man, with jagged tips that waved in the cold breath of air, and a form of a youngster that was no older than someone in high-school, this was the being that she came to see. His ribcage could be seen to shift beneath his ash skin every time he shook with the cold, as he hugged himself for what little warmth, his knees digging in his chest, as his back pressed firm to the wooden back of the bench. When, even in his dazed state, Kaguya stood before him, his eyes grew wide and dangerous, red and black. His Kakugan were showing in a dim, fading glow, unlike when a ghoul was full of meat and coffee where in the glow was fierce, lively. He seemed to half drool upon seeing her, but he bit his lip, drawing blood, forcing himself to stay back from Kaguya, forcing his hunger to persist.

Kaguya said nothing, but the man, just like the old fellow a week before, opened up.

He asked why she had not run when his eyes changed, asked her why she remained silent, and he too fell silent for a moment after that. The man spoke again, said he was a ghoul, as if to assure her he was, but he spoke of his existence as a damnation, and his pale gaze reflected that, a deathly look on his sunken face. Kaguya just stared for a while, then reached to her jackets zipper. The man was curious, wondering why she was taking her comfy jacket off in this cold. She handed it to him, and he understood.

But...he tried to deny her, at length, pushing with his scrawny arms in a futile attempt to make her keep it. She shifted around those bean-pole arms and draped it over his body. He resigned to it eventually, understanding he was now too weak from self-persisted starvation, but told her it was useless, as he would die soon. Kaguya's head cocked to the side, as if to ask why such had to happen, and he barely raised his arm to wave that look away. Without food, he explained, even with this jacket to sway the cold away-he told in his hollow voice-that he would die from the lack of eating human flesh.

He said he wanted death anyways.

Kaguya looked on at him, her plaintive expression seemed to say nothing, but in all actual fact, it spurred him on to say more, and with each sentence growing after the other, the shorter his breath became, the harder it was for him to take in air. He began that he was tired of killing to survive, he was tired of the blood and loss he caused just by existing, how he saw how it hurt others, families, communities, how he contributed to the cruel world just by trying to be alive.

Kaguya sat by him by then, as he went on with the list of his sins, as his body slowly sloped down to the side of the bench, his strength beginning to fully slip away, until all that he could do was speak, and rest his head there on Kaguya's warm lap.

One of the last things he spoke of was of what sin he did last, of his last meal, of a grief stricken old man who tried to fight him. He said he had eaten the mans son, starving as always, as he was the only person around as he tried to resist his hunger. He told how he felt horrible, like always, after eating someone, and how he watched the father grieve. He had watched him from afar, squatting by the place he had killed his son before killing the man himself. After a week of trying to keep his hunger from taking over, he finally submitted to doing that, as he ate the old man too.

By then his voice had grown soft, faint, his eyes nearly vacant and grey as he stared on at the endless expanse of stars and heaven above. He could barely utter words, as his end was upon him, but after telling all he had done, after confessing his sins, after admitting his wrongs before a former deity-unknowingly-he seemed content. A softness entering his now smokey gaze. His eyes shifted on something that was not there, perhaps it was a butterfly in his mind, fluttering its wings in anxious waiting, ready to carry his soul someplace better. His last words were for Kami-sama to take him home.

When those words were out of his mouth, he was gone, but Kaguya sat there in the frigid cold for a few hours longer before leaving his dead form. Her jacket was found still draped over the mans cold body the next morning.

That same night, earlier . . . .

Rize was having a strange problem, recently, on the night that she was supposed to go over certain things with the ghouls in their army before leaving for the warehouse. It was a pain in her stomach, which wouldn't have been so bad, unless you were a ghoul. Ghouls don't get stomach aches when it came to the flu, especially rinkaku types, as their immune system was constantly regenerating. Their immune system was a hardy sort, and getting a stomach ache was not something that happened unless they ate human food-which she had not. Now diseases passed down through family, or complications at birth, could definitely do something like that, but she had not preexisting problems like that, for this seemed to be a little stomach flu that a human might take to. It confused her, but she wasn't sure on why or how it was happening, only that it was.

But, as strong as she was, she pushed through the pain, however annoying it might be.

After a long hour and a half of finishing up her tactical speech, on how they would attack and where, and all of what each Kagune type would be doing in the battle with the humans. When it was done, she dismissed them all, telling them to be ready in the next two weeks, as the battle for everything was on the line, and soon, that battle was going to be upon them.

When all were gone, she decided to head for the warehouse where Naruto and Kaneki were, wondering what they were up to.

Donning a small purple coat, she headed outside the meeting room, out from the building they had gathered in, walking with stride and smile on her face-despite the pain in her gut. She came through several streets, passing people, many of which she would have eaten if it wasn't for Naruto and his ways. If he had not saved her, she more than likely would still be a guinea pig in a dark, desolate test lab, or dead. If he had not swayed her to curb her eating habits. Thinking of Naruto was a passing thought that seemed to keep coming back on occasions, usually when it was just her and no one else she knew around.

Tonight, she thought about that book he published under a single name, Jiraiya, that pervy boo-no...she had seen a few lines, and that was no mere pervy book. It was a super pervy book! How could someone write something like that, and yet still get so many sales? Well, she wasn't necessarily into it so it was hard for her to understand why, but she appreciated it nonetheless. There was a meaning to the madness to it after all, just looking at the subtitle, anyone could summarize what the theme was.

"The Toad that Leapt Over the Moon..." She spoke aloud, to herself more then anyone else.

When on her way to the warehouse, she came across a book store, and there baring itself behind the large store window was a table prostrating the most popular books of the month. Rize was not surprised when she saw Naruto's book there, along with some of Sen Takatsuki's. But, what took her by surprise instead was the sight of a young man wearing a white trench coat, holding a metallic briefcase in one of his hands. An investigator. He looked the stern type, with a near bowl cut of hair, a handsome investigator if there could be one.

He seemed to be standing there, staring on at the books, taking a browse and seemingly considering to buy one. Rize moved next to him, trying to see what else was there, and he seemed to take instant notice to her standing right by him. "Oh, sorry mam, I didn't mean to hog the window." He told, taking a side step to give her space, even though it was her who came so near. "No, its quite alright. I was just heading back home when I decided to look at the books myself." She told, lying about the going home part, but it didn't matter, he didn't need to know just who she was visiting.

The man smiled some to her, but looked back at the books, still considering what he should get.

"You should get that Icha Icha thing people are talking about," Rize told amist the silence, sudden as she was, and from her words she elicited a strange look from the man. He eyed her with a raised brow for a moment, then before he said anything, she told him, "now don't get me wrong, I've never actually read it but...i know what its actually about besides the obvious."

The man seemed to relax from his suspicion that she was the type of woman who liked things like that book, but her words intrigued him regardless of the subject. "What's it about then." His voice half peaked on interest, wondering how in the world a book like that had a massage of any kind.

Rize gave a half smile, shifting on one side as she crossed her arms, bringing her gaze towards the investigator. "It's very simple, but I think everyone knows it means so much more. The subtitle sums it up, go ahead, look." The purple haired woman said in a matter-of-fact tone, an absent finger pointing towards it. The man read the words on the cover again, raising his shoulders, still unsure.

"Well, if we say you are the toad, right?" She asked, and he nodded. "Then what's the moon?" She continued on. "Why would you want to leap over a moon in the first place, and what does that mean to you?"

The man's eyes widened as he came to realize that this book really did have a bigger meaning, and when she asked him those questions specifically, he really found himself thinking hard. "If I...or anyone else, was a toad, with an ambition to leap over the moon..." He tried to speak, tried to discover the meaning. "If I'm right, then the moon is a goal, I guess." He gave a small grin, scratching the back of his head. Rize nodded in agreement, and so, the young man was spurred on to figure out the rest of this strange-yet entertaining-conversation concerning a perverted book.

"Then I guess...the toad is an everyday average person, trying to reach a seemingly impossible goal, with the little talent that they have, and that person becomes great through their hard work to reach it." He faced forward, smiling and determined. "To me, my goal is to gain justice for the world we live in. I'm an investigator you see, and I want to meet that goal no matter what."

"How are you going to do that?" Rize asked, her expression changing, becoming more serious as the man lost his own bright look. The investigator stopped at her words, then said that he would get rid of every last ghoul, so human's won't have to live in fear of being eaten anymore. Rize shook her head to that.

"How is that justice? If you say every ghoul should die, then the children too? There are ghouls out there that can't hunt for themselves you know."

The man turned to her, half shocked that she was defending ghouls,wondering how the conversation got so serious. She could be a ghoul herself, offended, she could spring those Kagune any second. But when she just stood there, waiting for a response, he offered up his own words. "Ghouls don't care for humans, they prey on them, eat them without remorse, farm us like we're cattle sometimes. They are the problem."

"You're wrong." Her expression grew dark, and he tensed under her stormy stare. "It doesn't matter who it is. In this world, we all think that if one race was gone, or a type of people just disappeared that everything would be alright...but." Rize's arms fell to her sides, fists clenched. "If ghouls were gone, that would mean humanity would find something else to blame for all the problems in this world. Why do we do that investigator, why don't we take responsibility for our own mistakes and the mistakes of each other and work together, I know there are some ghouls that walk a dark path, but just like humans, we can do terrible things. Why don't ghouls and humans use words instead of weapons?"

The man was about ready to let out his Quinque even as she continued, but he hesitated, not sure if she was a ghoul, or just a liberal person. But as he listened, he felt his conviction slip some, his sense of 'justice' seemed to be disarmed by her words and dark look. This woman questioned everything he knew about the world, left him wondering even now how she could say such things.

"The ghouls are to blame, everyone knows-" He tried to say.

"-No." She interrupted. "If I told you that two people came by, side by side, one was a ghoul, and the other a human, both laughing and enjoying their walk, would you believe me?"

The man suddenly looked around, seeing if what she said was true, and down the street, he saw two girls, giggling, side by side, just like she said. The two of them seemed to be the best of friends for a very long time.

"Think about what I said, investigator, ghouls and humans could live together, in peace. . . ."

He whipped back around, and his gaze widened, finding an empty space where the woman had previously occupied. Amon stood there, frozen stiff, finding himself mixed with feelings unknown onto him for a long time. Was what he was doing now...was that really a goal to go after, if it meant he would kill an entire race, children, babies...would that solve anything?

Pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes scrunching together, Amon tried to wave those plaguing thoughts from his mind as he went home, but as he went, he could not help that nagging feeling in the back of his mind, that voice of the woman still stuck in his head, contradictions and treasonous thoughts coming up when he thought back to that one ghoul woman protecting her child.

Who was he to decide what was human, and what was a monster, what if they were the same. . . .