Author's Notes: Hello guys! It's been so long! Almost 3 years since I last updated, so very sorry. But, here's the thing. I got my laptop reformatted last time so I had to postpone writing and start a little from scratch. And kinda lost this account until a friend helped me retrieved it. That's why I edited the chapters a bit. Also, graduated at 2016, been busy getting my license and working as a full-time adult in society. Though, my only excuse other than busy real life is that, I wanted to see where the rest of the manga was going since I wanted to write something that seemed more like canon. I'll try to dedicate time again to writing. Thank you for your understanding!

Warning(s): This story will be, obviously, partial to the CCG just like when Kaneki had been with Anteiku. So, even as I cry just thinking about it, there will be clashes between him and ghouls (possibly even ones from Anteiku directly). This is Canon-Divergence. So, be aware of this one. Another is just the usual ones: gore, angst, drama, possible tragedy. Slow-going.

Pairing(s): None. This will be GEN. TG has already enough romance in its fandom, imho.

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Amon Koutarou honestly didn't know how to rectify the situation.

For years, it had been easier to hold on to the resentment. It was what kept him going. It was what fueled his nightmares for the past years ever since he–

He had to stop his line of thinking there. It wouldn't be commendable if his thoughts took on a dangerous path.

Ever since his talk with Mado, he hadn't been able to get a good night's rest. He had been willing to desecrate a grave if it meant bringing justice to this world, if it meant eradicating what was wrong with it. So, what was exactly stopping the CCG from employing dangerous and possibly immoral methods if it meant helping in correcting this world? The agency had been established long before he was an investigator. They knew firsthand what it took to keep the human race alive and fighting to this day better than him.

To him, Kaneki Ken was an anomaly in his black and white world.

He knew what misfortune was like, had experienced it firsthand at the hands of the person he looked up to as his father. Right now, Kaneki had to be the unluckiest kid to ever land in the situation he found himself in.

Amon didn't hate him. Didn't dislike him even.

It was just that Kaneki put him ill at ease.

So very, very uncomfortable.

For someone whose world revolved in black and white, bad and good, ghoul and human, there was simply no in-between. There was no room left for anything to come in the middle. It was the hatred that kept him going, wanting no one to undergo any pain the way he had.

For a long time, Amon had always been on the side of humans.

But, for one to become a ghoul, it was simply unthinkable. Unacceptable.

Because then, he would've to acknowledge that ghouls couldn't be the only thing wrong in this world after all, would've to acknowledge that he was just fighting a war where only the victors get to decide who was wrong, and that there might be some good in–

(Father, father, why did you spare me? He thought for the millionth time and no answer will ever come.)

Amon then thought of Kaneki again. A human who was now being forced to live as a ghoul. He knew. Oh, he knew. It would be easy to reach out, to think of Kaneki as the victim he really was, to bridge that gap between them, to delude himself of the other as still human under that guise that now screamed "ghoul"–

It would be so simple.

But, then, he would think of him. One who also seemed so human, capable of compassion, treated them like his children–

All of a sudden, he couldn't look at Kaneki.

He hated this part of him. Deep within, he was still that terrified boy who watched the butchered bodies of those children he considered as close to sisters and brothers be eaten by the one he'd looked up to the most. And do nothing about it until the CCG had rescued him. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he would see their grotesque faces and demanding why was he the only one who had escaped that fate. Suddenly, it was easier to die and harder to live again.

He recalled the face of that orphan he encountered in the office. One who was taken in by the department after losing his family to ghouls. Anger at the circumstance spurred him and suddenly, it wasn't so hard to live after all because he could still do something.

Wiping the sweat that dripped down his brow, he went back to work and paused as the shovel rammed into something solid.

Bending down to clear away the soil that obscured the object, his breath hitched as he recognized it.

Number 696's mask.

A feeling of relief washed over him as he held it up. His determination, however other people would view as skewed, had paid off. Amon felt the tiny bit of remorse that clung to him for disturbing a grave disappear. This was the justice he spoke off.

Number 723 is a ghoul.

"Trail of Tears" (5.5)

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(Posted: 05/22/2018)

AN: Thank you to my loyal readers and for your understanding. This is a very short chapter, I know. But, this is another start for me. So, I ask for your patience. :(

Sincerely,

Leeh.