Blue and red light flickered. Sirens blared. The radio hissed from time to time.

Kaneki scratched the back of his head and looked right and left. He was expecting a couple of investigators. Instead, a convoy of trucks and vans seized the scene, robbing the neighborhood of its peace.

He should have gone to the United Front in the first place. When everything was over, everyone would be talking about a certain ghoul family. No. Everyone would be running away from the ghoul family.

His family.

Kaneki's eyes suddenly met with a woman's. Like him, his neighbor, who had been peering out from the second floor balcony, froze.

Kaneki bobbed his head and smiled, as a good neighbor should have done.

The woman immediately pulled the glass door, shut it, and repeated the same on the curtain.

Kaneki sighed, somewhat hurt. He had anticipated and experienced similar treatment before, but that stubborn old sore would always return to gnaw him whenever he thought it healed.

"Kaneki!" Yusa Arima appeared behind one of the vans. He seemed to be the one leading the case. "The lab's done processing the scene. Have any officers taken your statement?"

"Yes." Kaneki cast his eyes down. "Yusa?"

Yusa raised his brows.

"You knew V. Do you have any clue where they are?"

"Can't say. They had been dormant for many years. With their numbers dwindled, they might have been spending those years recuperating." Yusa stopped, noticing the creases between Kaneki's brows. "Kaneki."

Kaneki looked up to Yusa.

"We're with you in this. Suzu and Ryuusen will take the watch. You'll be in safe hands."

Suzu and Ryuusen. "The new Quinx?"

"You've heard?"

"Met them a couple of times at the HQ." Kaneki looked around. "Didn't know they were here."

Yusa smiled. "That's the whole point, Kaneki." He was ready to leave. "Oh, I'm not sure if I've congratulated you yet."

"Thanks." Kaneki smiled. "If you have nothing planned this Saturday, come join us. We'll be throwing a party."

"We'll see. I might need to run some errands." Yusa turned and left.

"Keep an eye on Kaneki?"

"You can't underestimate what a man will do to protect his family. Last thing we want is to repeat the Dragon War."

"Mind if I ask… Isn't Associate Special Class Urie more up to it?

"He's too close to Kaneki. I need someone unbiased."

"Yes, Director."

Yusa glanced behind before he went under the police tape. Though he did not like the idea of spying on their own, Marude had a point. Under that skin of a benign face, Kaneki was still the formidable One-Eyed King. The last time they saw Kaneki on a rampage, they ended up spending a year cleaning the entire metropolis.

Yusa pressed his earpiece. "Don't mess up."

"Roger."

On second thought, joining the celebration at New Anteiku might be worthwhile.

Sitting alone by the dining table, under the illumination of a pendant light, Kaneki exhaled his helplessness.

They had been living there for more than a year. Just when things started to look promising, they had to move again.

But his baby was not even a day old. Should he wait? Perhaps he should, because Touka could use some rest. Even if Touka would compromise, he still had to find a safe place that could accommodate a family of four.

What if V returned tomorrow or even tonight? How was he going to handle it?

Maybe he should keep watch too. He couldn't sleep anyway.

He snapped his head up and found an eye too close to himself.

"Touka!" The chair, which he was sitting, tilted backward and left on its two legs. Kaneki almost fell had he not caught the table just in time to pull himself forward. He didn't notice that she had been standing right in front of him.

"You are doing it again." Touka straightened her back.

"Do what?"

"Taking all the problems upon yourself."

Kaneki scratched his cheek, smiling sheepishly. Once again he let her catch him off guard.

How was he going to tell her that they were no longer safe?

"Take off your clothes."

"Huh? Now?" His eyes followed her until he was unable to twist his head further.

"No, next year." Touka had her hands on his sweater and began to pull.

"Wait, wait. Touka!" Kaneki tucked his arms to his chest and squirmed.

"What the hell are you doing?" She grabbed his arm, putting all her might to pry his arm away. No matter how hard she yanked and pulled, Kaneki just wouldn't give in. The struggle began to look like sheep shearing. "Come on, Kaneki! Can you just be a man?"

"Touka! You are going to wake up the kids!"

"Then just let me take it off!"

Just one yank, and off it came, though not in one piece.

"Seriously?" She frowned, holding that torn sweater in her hands.

"Serious you," Kaneki muttered, looking away. It really was not his fault.

"Why are you blushing?"

"I… ah…"

His wife never had the patience to wait for him to work out his stammer. It wasn't even a second later that she grew to be disinterested in whatever explanation he might have, and she disappeared into the storage room.

"Touka?" He watched her return with a first-aid kit, which she later set on the table.

Touka dug into the medicines and rummaged around until she took out an ointment. "Let me take a look at your back." It was an order and not a request, which Kaneki had learnt not to disobey.

Just when he had turned his back to her, she rewarded him with a hard slap on the back.

He yelped immediately.

"Now you are the one who is going to wake up the kids."

Kaneki's lips zipped to a flatline, as if he was holding in all the bitterness in his mouth. He could never win this. So why bother?

"Thought you won't feel pain." Touka spread more ointment on the red skin, which spanned from the shoulders down to his waist. "You're a grown man. Don't you know how to take care of yourself?"

Kaneki figured that he should not answer, but he felt that he should really put up his defense. "It's healing. Just much slower." He waited for her to continue her lecture.

She didn't do it, not right away.

He wondered if she was crying. "Touka—"

"Do what you need to do."

Kaneki widened his eyes and turned his head.

"Don't look!"

His back shot up, and he was facing squarely again. "O...okay!" He was as still as an icicle. As the burning on his skin cooled down, it started to get chilly, but he didn't dare to shudder.

"I can take the kids to stay with Yomo or Ayato," Touka spoke softly. "We'll be safe. I'll make sure of it."

"Touka…"

"You think it's V?"

"I don't know him, but his fighting style was just like that time when I fought V."

Touka pressed the hilt of her palm onto Kaneki's back.

Kaneki gaped, tears welling in his eyes.

"V or not. I'm not going to let them take my baby." The more she talked, the harder she rubbed his back. "I would have gone after them myself if I could."

He listened to her, clenching his teeth so that he would not make a noise.

She stopped. There came a chill to his back. Just when he shifted to look at her, she had come out from their bedroom. Her hands were holding a fresh piece of long john.

"Just promise me you'll come back in one piece." She handed the clothes to him.

Kaneki placed the clothes on the table. His hands reached to hers. Eyes gazed at hers. "Have I told you our son's name?" That seemed to get her attention. "Hiro. I named him Hiro."

"Hiro?"

"Like the ocean. I want him to have a life of abundance and be kind." Kaneki pulled her closer, wrapped his arm around her waist, and leaned his cheek against her soft stomach. With his eyes closed, he breathed out. "I'm not going after them. Let the TSC and United Front do that."

That was right. He was not alone anymore. He had friends and family. They would help him find V.

"Our parents left us when we needed them. I'm not going to do that to you and our children."

Touka needed her husband. Their children needed their father. That was a role no one else could fill.

"Hiro Kaneki…" Touka brushed his pale hair. A smile escaped her. "It's a good name."

A platoon of troops separated into two neat columns, flanking a door. Some squeezed the semi-automatics in their hands. Beads of sweat hinged along their foreheads, right at the brink of the helmets.

Their leaders exchanged hand signals. The one nearest to the doorknob faced the team, hand holding the doorknob.

One, two, pull!

The platoon rushed in. One to the right. One to the left. The team split and fanned out. Muzzles swept around for hostile targets. Some pointed up at the balcony. Some covered where they were heading.

They quickly took their respective position in the large hall—the exact moment when a shadow leapt from the balcony.

The spooked platoon swung their aims behind. One of them jumped the trigger and misfired at their own. The rest shot along the trail left behind by the cloaked enemy, who charged at them with a long rod in his hand pulled back.

One by one, the rod struck down the platoon and reaped the rest at the legs.

The black hooded enemy stood tall in their midst. The rod in his hand poked the floor and clinked. He was like a harvester overseeing the freshly scythed cornstalks.

The platoon had to concede.

"Mission Failed!" A stout man in a grey sweatshirt stepped in. "You are all dead!" He crossed his arms. "Nakamura! How many times do I have to tell you not to point that muzzle at your own? Tajima! Where the hell were you looking? If that were a live round, you would've been a swisscheese. Kubo! How could you forget to cover your six? Thanks to you, your platoon has become ghoul's dinner."

"Sir," said one of the cadets, who was wiping away the orange paint on his face. "There's no way we could defeat a ghoul with just Q bullets. Everyone knows that only a quinque can do the job."

"It's possible." Amon pulled off his hood. "If you aim at the kakuhou."

The instructor nodded his head. "That's right. The Q bullet has been significantly improved over the past few years. An outstanding peacekeeper should never use weapon choice as an excuse to get himself pinned." Hands at his waist, he roared, "Now get back on your feet, take your gear, and give me twenty laps! Move! Move! Move!"

The platoon sprang up and dashed to the exit.

"Thank you, Special Class Amon." The instructor smiled.

"Please, Instructor Ashikaga, call me Amon."

"Alright, Amon." He smirked. They set forth, walking side by side. "Those brats always thought they had conquered the world. You taught them a lesson they will never forget." He laughed.

"They are still young. With enough training and patience, their full potential will be revealed in due time." Suzuya was one example.

"That doesn't sound like you."

Amon and Ashikaga came to a stop. "Shinohara-san!"

"Yo!" Shinohara raised a five. "Amon." With the aid of a walking stick, he approached the two. "Ishin! You're not dead yet?"

Ashikaga snorted. Arms crossed. "There we go again." He walked past Shinohara. "I have to check on those kids. They're probably slacking off right now."

Shinohara raised his brow, watching Ashikaga leaving. "That old geezer still can't take a joke."

Amon looked at Shinohara. Despite the faded hair color and lack of built, Shinohara was as energetic as ever.

"Amon…" That low growl put Amon to full attention. The way Shinohara grasped Amon's shoulder and peered into his eyes made Amon's heart pound.

"Shinohara-san?" Amon was getting very uncomfortable with a face sticking so close to his. He wondered if it was about what he had turned into—a ghoul to be precise.

"How about a drink?" Shinohara grinned.