Getting out of bed had felt like the hardest thing he’d done in his entire life.

His body had felt as if it weighed tons, the sunlight had been so bright he thought he'd go blind.

Yet he forced himself to sit, feet on the cold hard floor, shoulders hunched, hands on either side of his body.

The buzzing capital's sound pollution had nearly made him mad.

He’d looked at it for a while, unable to get out yet unwilling to go back to bed.

He dragged himself unwillingly to his shower. He smelt like a rotting body.

He'd gotten out and had made himself a cup of coffee that tasted like dirt.

He'd brought it to his lips before his eyes settled on an inconspicuous object on the table.

A long, white, funeral vase.

Enji had thrown up the bits of food his stomach had stored, most of it being the sip of coffee he'd had.

He’d gripped the sink and forced himself to look away from the vase.

He was doing it for him. He couldn’t back down. It was for him, him and him alone.

Enji inhaled.

His back to the vase, he went back to his room.

There he searched for a shirt and jeans between rows and rows of his Heroic costume.

How much he hated it.

He dressed quickly, feeling as if he stayed any longer alone with the urn he wouldn’t have the strength to leave the place.

He had endeavored the possibility of stretching to get a bit of dopamine in his mushy brain but it would take too long.

He put on his shoes – didn't think about the urn – brushed his teeth – didn't think about the urn – took the Endeavor's Tower Pass in his top drawer – thinking about the urn.

The elevator opened inside the apartment, right in the kitchen.

Endeavor practically ran to it and anxiously pressed its button.

It’s for him, I’m doing it for him, it’s for him.

His shoulders sagged in relief when the elevator's doors closed behind him.

Endeavor’s Tower was eerily empty, yet he felt good about it.

He wouldn’t have wanted people to see him like this.

He arrived in an underground garage.

Close to thirty glossy cars were parked.

Those were mostly company cars stamped with Endeavor's logo more or less obviously and used by his employees when they needed to get somewhere quickly.

He took one of the least flashy – an ashy grey Bentley – and went out.

Driving alone felt weirdly oppressive.

He put on the radio and looked around.

The city looked in better shape than what he remembered, but it was far from being back in shape.

He had to drive close to Atago-Jinja and noticed that there wasn't even the smallest construction truck.

There was still a gaping hole filled with yellowish sand where there once had been a dynamic neighborhood.

There was a sign that stood alone in the pit on which we could read '4', generally associated with death.

Enji wondered if people thought the place was cursed.

It would explain why he was the only car driving by.

Half an hour later, Enji had gotten to one of the shadiest parts of Tokyo.

People's eyes bulged when they noticed his car, their eyes instantly going to the one-way windows to see who was driving it.

Enji stopped in front of an old apartment complex and weirdly leaned on one side.

He parked in a cracked parking place.

Three men were leaning against a lamp post. They exchanged glances.

The hooded one smashed a half-smoked cigarette under his heel before moving forward.

The car door opened: and his hand slid to his back pocket.

A mop of infamous red hair emerged on top of an extremely tall man.

The felon froze, his legs rooted to the spot, craning his neck to look in the eye the giant that was getting out of it.

Enji’s cold eyes quickly mapped the place, his reddened eyes barely registering the stunned face of the three men.

He closed the door shut then shot the one closest to his car keys.

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“Keep it for me, will you ? Make sure nobody touches it”

The delinquent grabbed them reflexively : mouth hanging wide open, his brain had fried.

“It’s- it’s-”

Endeavor walked away.

This way he knew nobody would even glance at his car the wrong way.

Enji knocked at the door of apartment 444.

No sound came.

Enji knocked loudly until other people started looking out of their windows to see who was making all of the ruckus.

Their expression grew gobsmacked when they realized Endeavor was standing there.

A growl came from behind the door.

“Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing ? I told you I’d pay-”

The door swung open.

“-you Monday so don't-"

The man shut up, his eyes going higher and higher until they met Enji’s.

He had stubble and the imprint of a pillow on his left cheek.

A lit cigarette hung from the corner of his lips, and dry saliva covered his lips.

He nearly dropped his cigarette when he spotted Enji but he caught it with his fingers at the last moment, a huge grin splitting his face.

“Enji Todoroki. Long time no see. Didn’t expect you to come and visit good ol’ me”

Enji nodded towards his home.

It smelt like rotten corpses and, knowing him, Enji didn’t put it past him.

“Can I come in ?”

“Depends”

Kaneki’s face hardened.

He'd become thinner since their military days, but there was still something tough hidden inside him.

“How much do I get ?”

Enji’s eyebrows shot up.

“Short on cash ?”

The jobs they did had been the most gruesome, but to say they were paid handsomely was an understatement.

For those that had survived until the end of their contract, they'd made enough money for five generations.

He scoffed.

“Of course not. Let my butler take your coat and my maid will serve us tea in the drawing room”

He gestured inside towards the battered couch.

“Now tell me before I kick you out : what do you want ?”

“I need to find someone”

“To murder him ?”

Enji didn’t answer.

There were too many prying eyes, too many people that were listening.

The three thugs were still circling the car, confused about what they should do.

“Can I come in ?”, he repeated

The man seemed to ponder for a moment, his eyes getting darker for the briefest of moments.

He sighed and pushed the door aside to let Enji in, jumping on his one good leg to move.

His left one had been injured badly some twenty years ago and since then he’d had to use a crutch to walk around.

“You better pay fucking well”

Enji looked around.

The apartment looked bare as if no one lived in it.

Kaneki closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

“Tell me : who’s on your hit list ?”

“How long have you been staying here ?”

Kaneki shrugged.

The place didn't smell yet of cigarettes, which meant not that long, but the foul undertone told another story.

"Been there, done that", he answered vaguely

Enji sat on the corner of a brand-new couch that looked incongruous in such a shitty place.

There were cardboard on every window and a lingering smell of fresh paint, and Enji wondered if it was because he hadn’t managed to clean the blood out and had just decided to paint on it.

“Still moving around ?”, he asked

Kaneki smiled, showing that two of his back-row teeth were missing.

“We’re not all fated for the good old family dream”

That much was true.

From the people who had been their comrades in the Special Forces, Enji and Kaneki were some of the few to make it out alive, and among them, there were even fewer who didn't have to check in a clinic right afterward.

“You could too”

Kaneki shrugged, unbothered.

“There’s stuff you do that you can’t come back from”

Enji agreed.

“Anyway, what do you need me for, mister Hero ?”

“Is this place safe ?”, asked Enji

Kaneki scoffed and said nothing else, though his mouth curved patronizingly.

“What do you want ? My price’s high”

Kaneki was working for various independent organizations, Heroes Agencies included.

He did lots of odd jobs that only he could do or that people in their right mind wouldn’t accept.

Endeavor had punctually used his services throughout his twenty-five years of career.

“I want you to find-”

"Someone that even you can't find is someone worth looking into", smiled Kaneki

“-All for One”

Kaneki's smile fell.

“No”

“I’ll pay you well”

“I don’t care about your money, I’m not touching this shit storm with a stick”

He moved from the door and opened it.

“Get out”

“Think about what he did”, Enji said. “Think about all of the people that died”

“Not my problem.”

Enji frowned.

“For fuck’s sake, where's your pride? Weren't you a soldier? You spent your life protecting our country: you can’t tell me it means nothing”

“And look at what this protecting bullshit did to you", bites back Kaneki. “You’re just the shadow of the man I knew”

Enji's clothes were rumpled, his eyes bloodshot, his beard unshaven.

If it weren’t for the million-dollar car sitting right outside, he'd look like any homeless man out here.

“I need to find him”, insisted Enji, nearly pleading. “I won’t ever be able to look myself in the mirror if I didn’t”

Kaneki’s gaze was unwavering.

“Why ?”

For weeks Enji had stayed holed up in his bed, mortified by the thought that his son was dead because of him.

If he had given him more love, if had paid more attention to him, if he’d been more present in his life, if he hadn’t fucking shown preferences to his youngest, Touya wouldn’t have grown the way he did.

Or that’s what he’d thought until this morning.

“Because he has killed my eldest son”

Despite everything, nothing had predestined Touya to become a criminal.

It had been All for One who’d found him.

It was because of him that he became a villain, it was because of him that he died.

It wasn’t Enji’s fault – it was All for One’s.

And he had to pay for it.

“You’re one hell of a crazy fucker”

Kaneki shook his head in disappointment.

"He's got Eraserhead's Quirk for fuck's sake! How the hell are you planning on killing him ?

Enji shot Kaneki a glance.

"Oh come on now, don't look at me like that. When the guy who can erase people's Quirk gets at the hospital without his eyeballs of course people talk"

“… I’ll find a way”, said Enji

“You’ll need more than ‘a way’ : you’ll need a freaking trip to I-Island to find a way to kill him on your own. Because that’s how you plan to do it, right ? You’ll kill him on your own”

Enji nodded.

Kaneki, frowning, was angrily smoking, his lips puckering around his stick like an angry fish.

"That's suicide, fucking suicide. We've all sacrificed ourselves for our country and what did we get? Yahiro and Shizue are still in prison. It’s the twelfth time that Kuse’s getting back in rehab. Uemura has never checked out of the asylum. But you’re right, let’s go after the biggest threat our country has seen in decades. Let’s die honorably because we’ve got nothing else in our miserable lives”

“Listen-”

“No, you listen. The dumb ass you are may have not gotten enough but I did and I won’t do it again. Go see Gun Hee if you need help, this freak has always been as insane as you”

He opened the door bigger.

People had heard the shouting and were trying to see what was going on.

“Listen", Enji said, lowering his voice. "I just want you to help me find him. Then I'll leave you alone and I won't ask you for anything else ever

“I’m not gonna have your death on my mind”

“I’ll pay you well”

Kaneki’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ll pay you so well you won’t ever have to keep on doing whatever it is that you do”

“Take all the bills you want and shove them up deep in your ass fucker”

He opened the door bigger.

If he had wanted money, he’d have worked at the Commission or become a Hero.

Enji knew a fight was lost when he saw one.

He stood up and walked to the door.

“I’ll do it”, said Enji. “With or without your help. And if I die, you’ll have it on your mind anyway”

Something flashed in Kaneki’s eyes, and Enji thought he'd cave in.

“Fuck off”

He shut the door close behind him.

*

A/N : If you like the story, want to support it/read ahead of schedule up to 27 chapters, then go check the story's P@treon, Nar_cisseENG

And see you in the next update everyone !