Disclaimer: The following is a fan based work of fiction that combines elements from Tokyo Ghoul and characters from the show Sherlock. Neither of which belong to me. If you like what you're reading, then be sure to leave a vote and a comment.

The last time that he was truly at a loss for words, and left standing in bewilderment, was when he and Sherlock first met, and the consulting detective deduced his entire back story just by looking at him. Everything in between that time and now just integrated itself into his daily life. Now here he was again, staring at Sherlock in the only way that he could, in pure astonishment and amazement at Sherlock's extraordinary intellect, and outstanding abilities of deduction.

The only thing that made this time seem better than the others, was the fact that the consulting detective agreed with him on something. Sherlock could feel John's stare lingering on him and turned toward his flat mate, slightly annoyed.

"Look, I understand that you're flabbergasted at the notion of me agreeing with you on something, but do try not to gawk like a school girl whose infatuated with her professor. It's bad enough that people suspect our relationship is less than platonic, no thanks to the rubbish that you post on your blog. The last thing we want to do is add oxygen to the media fire, and that of the ignorance of the masses". He said. John was inclined to ignore the part about him being compared to a lovesick school girl, still wanting to discover what it was about his comment that compelled Sherlock to agree with him.

"I'm sorry, but I'm still trying to figure out what I said exactly that would make you agree with me". He Said. In response to this, Sherlock set his violin aside and exhaled a breath.

"What you said about humanity's future at the hands of the ghouls. You hit the nail on the head. Even with Mycroft's more than effective help." He said. He rolled his eyes when saying more than effective. John remained silent, but shook his head in agreement. Sherlock saw this as a chance to continue with his point and took it.

"And even it wasn't the ghouls killing us, it's war, disease, famine, and death itself. Constantly looming over us and dealing us a cruel, unapologetic hand, one life at a time." He said. Once again, John shook his head in agreement with Sherlock, no matter how cynical his statement was. That being said, Sherlock set his violin aside and moved toward his bedroom. He didn't look back at John to until he was close to the doorframe. At which point, he turned to his flat mate.

"When it all comes down to it, you can't point a finger at either humans, or ghouls. We're all to blame." He said. Sherlock made his way into his room, quietly closing the door behind him. John's silence was confirmation of his agreement with Sherlock, as he though back to the online articles that he read about the constant ghoul activities, mingling with stories about rapes, homicides, and corruption, all involving humans. Both species caught in a vicious cycle of man kills ghoul and ghoul kills man, trying to justify their actions, and clear their consciences by saying that their enemies deserve what's coming to them. It was just as Sherlock had said: there was no one to point a finger at.

John momentarily ceased his train of thought to look at the time, seeing that it was nearly 5:30, with the afternoon slowly and eventually giving way to the evening. He looked out the window to confirm that the sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon, leaving only a glimmer of sunlight left. Chances are, there was going to be another ghoul attack tonight. Assuming anyone is unlucky enough to be caught out on the streets past sun down. But that would only be determined by the events of tomorrow. That being said, John stood up and exited the living room to go to his own room, laptop in tow.

Sure enough, John was right. When he turned on the T.V the next morning, the first thing he saw was a new story on the news about another mangled human corpse. In the midst of his morning routine, John turned his attention to the TV and watched the story unfold.

Earlier this morning, another dismembered corpse was found in the alleyway of a well known pub on Shaftesbury Avenue. From what could be identified through the victim's DNA, the deceased is believed to be convicted drug dealer Anthony Murdock, released on parole last year. Traces of ghoul saliva was found on Murdock's corpse. Specifically around the frontal lobe of his head where a small but noticeable chunk of his brain as bitten off. More info on this later on. In other news-

"John!" The shouting of his name forced the former soldier to turn his attention away from the TV to see Sherlock entering the kitchen, preparing to put in his coat. His blue scarf was already around his neck, but not in it's usual fashion. John picked up the remote to mute the audio, as Sherlock crossed over into the living room, adjusting the blue cloth to the style he wanted. John motioned to the TV and looked at Sherlock expectantly on news about their latest case.