A/N: Been away on for a long time huh... =_= Felt like an after-surgery Kaneki during my brief time in the hospital and salmon tasted weird. Here's a (short!) one shot focused on a little shard of Noro's enigmatic thoughts and ideas circling in that head of his...I find myself too hesitant to "destroy" his characterisation to continue, a sincere apology on that.

This one shot features a slightly different writing style (with more colourful language to boot) as compared to my other works. I really hope that my portrayal of Noro works out. Is this even legit? D:

(Never mind about that...)

Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own Tokyo Ghoul or its affiliates

Note: I actually watch TG Root A raws first, followed by the english subs. As such, some character dialogue may not completely similar to the subs due to translation differences. (Side note, the bench mistake was extremely obvious.) For the purpose of writing fics, I may also modify bits and pieces to suit the story. Sorry for the confusion!

4. Perception (Noro)

A long finger crept along the contours of the rectangular device, sneaking up to a button and silencing it with a harsh click.

It was silent. Good.

There was one, two, three pairs of eyes on him. Honestly, Noro could not bring himself to care. Three ghouls not too far away from him needed his attention, but the clock had stolen it for the moment and would not share one bit with them. The plan had to proceed.

"What is he?"

Was there even a need for urgency? Shaking his head mentally, Noro turned and continued down the flight of stairs leading to the lower floors. He had to retrieve a runaway Ayato and evacuate as quickly as possible, as stated by Tatara. There was not much time to waste.

"Do we follow him?"

(Could they stop talking, please. They were wasting energy asking the unnecessary, and his ears were beginning to ring.)

"Let's hurry on."

Soft, rapid footsteps echoed down the spiral staircase. They were on their way. The building was collapsing soon, Noro noted as another tremor wrecked the infrastructure around him. There was not much time for him to waste, and Noro picked up the pace grudgingly.

Urgency, urgency...

...How annoying.

The latest meeting of Aogiri's upper management was boring. It was the norm, really. Tatara was well known for his long, dragged-out speeches that could be simply summarised in three sentences. For the sake of the general good, Noro remained silent about it. Tatara was also well known for his no-nonsense code of conduct, and unless someone really wanted to endure an additional fifteen minutes of politically correct bullshit, (which is Tatara's way of saying "Fuck you. This is your divine punishment, dumbass.") people tended to be present at such meetings.

More interesting to observe were the interactions during meetings. Ayato was decked out in full leather as usual. His punk taste in clothing was...commentable. That, however, was not the main point.

The teenager was also having a conversation with the ghoul next to him: The eyepatch, their newest executive. To be frank, the white-haired ghoul was a disaster waiting to happen, with his mental state was unravelling by the minute. Like a shoddily building set in sinking mud, it was borne to shatter sooner or later. Ironically, his instability appeared to make him stronger. That part alone made Noro hugely invested in his observations about this ghoul.

The eyepatch was special, and having Ayato socialise with him was a bonus layer of icing to the cake. He could not wait to see something happen, whether for the bad or worse.

Noro was sorely tempted to poke his cheeks repeatedly to drive him up the wall. Later, maybe?

Then there was Eto and Tatara. Those two was opposite poles in their attitude, fighting style and other areas. Despite their differences, they eclipsed in familiarised harmony together. Eto, with her wayward, queer manner, simply filled in the stony, awkward gaps of Tatara's silence. They were not a perfect fit, of course, yet their partnership was sublime. Years of recognition probably led them to this stage, and Noro could safely bet that the road to there was rocky.

Regardless, no romance between them could ever exist, let alone survive. Tatara was simply a hopeless case. It would be even worse than the redundant love stories behind plots, and Noro could almost imagine a romantic comedy between the duo. Eto needed no explanation. And...

The case was closed. Done with his daily musings of relative wisdom, Noro rocked back on his seat, causing Tatara to glare at him. He wrung his hands out gleefully. This was such fun.

Did their brain cells spontaneously explode or something? Why on earth were they so weak?

A flick of his kagune sent one of the investigators rocketing into the wall, skull thoroughly crushed by the force of the impact. Passively watching the limp body slide down the wall with a bloody trail in its wake, Noro titled his head to the side.

Not that he was biased or something, but their lack of skills, strength and even wit was disappointing. Was this not Cochlea, a prison for ranked ghouls, Noro would assume that these humans were mere citizens. For the standard of investigators to be this low was a letdown. Really, he was looking forward for an epic showdown, not a one-sided slaughter. The surviving guards were running helter-skelter as if they were beheaded, fleeing the vicinity.

Hm, so what should he do now…

In the end, beheaded humans was the only thing he could come up with. Noro proceeded to carry out his work as such, muttering intangible words that sounded right to him as heads rolled down the aisles, stopping occasionally to behold his masterpiece.

All he saw before him was a bloodstained walkway, yet the calmness that permeated the stilled air was enough for him. He lived to live, anyway, and one might as well enjoy the sights along the way to your own certain death.

Some might call it sadistic. In no way was Noro so. He preferred to call himself...meticulous. Vigilant. To take note of every little detail and derive joy from it was the essence of thriving. It was the privilege of the strong to truly relax for a fleeting moment. Victory was temporary and fragile, so why not savour it before the tide pulls you under?

This was-

The clock announced the need for urgency once again. Sighing softly, Noro pushed the button. The curfew was up.

He stood in the wake of changing times, grinning mask betraying no emotions. His voice was something all have not heard. Maybe one day they would when the need arises, for there was no need to explain his existence currently. Actions spoke more than words, after all.

He was an enigma of nature's creation. He was a mystery to those surrounding him, his true motives unknown. Perhaps, they could never understand him truly. Perhaps he was to remain a conundrum to the masses, someone undefined by conventions, someone who would never utter to the world.

Noro, the silent giant of Aogiri Tree, a riddle unsolved.

He liked his title that way. Really.

0_0 I never expected so many faves and follows amg.

A resounding thanks to Darkening Grey, KashiiKat, AyatoKirishima, balming9, psychoteddy398, Jesse M.E Gerrits, badwolfdw5 and thesky448 for faves, and Churroko, Darkening Grey, AyatoKirishima, SadisticPrincess13, Rxroulette, Jesse M.E Gerrits and Chromanor for follows!

Would like to thank Churroko, barmoglot13 and Ootsutsuki-Chan for reviews!