Messorem, et Pallidum ; It Kinda Works

It was uncomfortably-comfortable in the 13th Ward of Tokyo. Rumors and official documentation of bloodshed in this particular area was eerily common, so much so that even Ghouls were unnerved to be here. Which is exactly what brought Kaneki here on this night, and for their sake, hopefully no one was flat-out stupid enough to try anything.
Shibuya was not desolate, stained with blood and entrails, or a combat zone for the CCG, contrary to what some who avoided this area might've believed.

The eyepatched Ghoul brushed by people, offering a quiet "Excuse me," as he did so. Looking over his shoulder was a bad habit, but not an unjustified one; as powerful as he proved to be, he was not ignorant of the fact others were safer untrusted. His very life was mocking proof of that.

Sliding his hand into the left pocket of his detective-esque trench coat, he shifted his attention back and forth between the neatly-written words on the slip of paper he retrieved and where he would place his next step.
Either Kaneki's mind wandered slightly as he made it to the outskirts of the more lively area, or that was a quite short walk. Whichever way, the lights blinked on his back from the distance but didn't reach beyond that into the dark he was entering.

Well... He wasn't sure what he was expecting. It was a warehouse. He knew it was a warehouse before he even left Anteiku, but he expected a little more originality... Maybe not everyone was as batshit crazy as Tsukiyama though. Kaneki snorted quietly at the idea, inspecting the rickety doors.
With the sound of a low thump to his right, Kaneki stood back at his full height and expressionlessly looked through the thick shadows. He slightly smiled at the furry form of a small, striped cat looking at him, curiously flicking their tail and offering a rrreow? at him before dashing off.

Kaneki gripped the metal bar on the front of the doors, flipping it down and grinding it to the left. "You could at least oil the damn thing," he groaned, slipping through the decidedly him-sized entrance and closing the door behind him.
Why the hell would you kill someone in here? He paced through the building, swatting a spider web off his face as he passed by some low-set track lights. The creepy old building, obvious as fuck. Read a mystery novel for Christ's sake...

((OoC - Holy smokes, my precious baby angel.<3 I have freaking issues lol. Ok, so, his personality is going to be more manga-canon, but I do enjoy stoic Root A Shiro too, so it's a mix of them both. Smile, sweetie. You can do it. I believe in you. Doomy gave me permission to use EJ Kaneki's text color~))

Under the cover of darkness, the figure swept through the shadows, darkness trailing them as they dove in and out of the light, a shadow that sped through the streets, in pursuit of the target. He could hear their breathing, and could sense their fear. The adrenaline spurred their prey onwards, trying to escape the shadow that mercilessly pursued them through the streets of Tokyo. They had thought that being in these ghoul-infested wards would deter their assassin. They thought wrong. With a hiss of air, and an explosion of shadows pulsing outwards, the hunter shot forwards, tackling their prey and jamming a shotgun under their chin, exposing the weak spot between their armor.

"Your soul is mine." The chilling voice echoed around the empty alleyway, and the shotgun pressed into his prey's neck clicked as pressure was placed on the trigger, the hammer moving back to allow for the hunter to take his shot. His prey wasn't going down without a fight though, as they gathered their legs and kicked the angel of Death off them, sending him flying back. With a growl, the hunter landed with his feet on a wall, pushing off and pulling out his second shotgun, firing off the shots at his prey, who scrambled up and started running, blood dripping on the concrete from the shotgun wounds.

Rolling as he landed, the hunter chuckled darkly, throwing his empty guns on the ground and withdrawing two more from the darkness of his cloak. Shadows surrounded the assassin as he disappeared from view, a trail of smoke following his prey towards an abandoned warehouse. If his prey thought they could beat him in a fight, they were dead wrong.

Purple shadows erupted from the ground, enveloping the hunter and disappearing as the shadows sunk back into the ground, appearing within the warehouse, effectively cutting off his prey, and leaving them trapped. Shifting back into a corporeal form, the Reaper dodged to the side as a shot rang out, leaving a smoke trail as the bullet passed his head. Removing his shotguns, the angel of Death ran towards his prey, shooting with deadly accuracy. Blood littered the ground as each of the assassin's shots flew true to his mark, forcing his prey to their knees from the wounds.

"I am the angel of Death," he hissed, shoving the shotgun into his prey's face, jamming the other one under their chin as a dark chuckle emitted from the black-clad assassin. "I am the Reaper." He finished, pulling the triggers on both guns and spreading gore over the cold ground and silencing his target for good. One less Overwatch bastard to worry about. Sounds reached Reaper's ears, and he turned, eyes narrowing behind the mask as the door creaked open. Shadows enveloped Reaper's form as he sunk into the darkness, observing the newcomer carefully.

Reaper appeared behind the newcomer, shadows hissing as he turned corporeal, raising one of his shotguns to face the newcomer. "Who are you?"

It was a pretty fair assumption that it wasn't the cat holding a shotgun against his back.

Kaneki's eyes unenthusiastically slid to the side as the kakugan beneath the medical patch spread over his sclera and iris like fresh blood. "Who are you?"
The half-ghoul turned his head ever-so-slightly, more or less simply showing that he acknowledged their presence behind him. His thoughts moved fast, calculatingly but calm and he gave no indication of what could be perceived as alarm.
Can't say for sure if they're the one responsible, but based on the damn gun trained on my back, I'd say interrogation couldn't hurt.

He finally drew a breath, "If I were to give you an honest answer, may I ask the same?" Kaneki's voice was void of anger but laced with a zero-degree temperature. He could save the straight up brutality for later - come on, this dick was aiming at a "defenseless" kid, what had they done to who else? Karma was a bitch - for now, he wanted to see if he could provoke them into giving him some interesting information.
"Call me Eyepatch," Kaneki said in mock-nonchalance. "How 'bout that return favor? Who are you?" Their choice in response would pave the way for how he needed to handle them.

The newcomer tilted their head slightly, their movements slowed so as not to come off as threatening. Reaper's eyes narrowed behind the mask, finger still placed firmly on the trigger, on a twitch away from shooting. The other did well to cover any alarm, or fear, that was commendable. Then again, one didn't roam these streets without a healthy dose of caution. Somewhere in the back of Reaper's mind, it occurred that perhaps this was one of those famed ghouls. Gritting his teeth his eyes glanced down at his gun that was aiming for their back. He tilted the barrel upwards, so that this time it faced the other's head.

"If I were to give you an honest answer, may I ask the same?" Reaper growled quietly, his mask muffling the sound to make it appear as a rasping sigh. Finally, he stepped back and lowered his Hellfire shotguns. Dispersing into mist, Reaper swooped around the newcomer, appearing a few meters away, standing in front of the white haired newcomer. Holstering his shotguns, Reaper wearily watched the other newcomer, staying silent as he observed.

Finally, he got a name. The icy voice of the other did nothing to deter Reaper, in fact it only made his clawed gloves twitch towards his shotguns. "Call me Eyepatch," The assassin snorted lightly. As though he were saying 'is that all?' to the other figure. Eyepatch was most certainly not their real name, but he would go with it for now. After all, his name was Reaper.

"How 'bout that return favor? Who are you?" Stalking to the side, the assassin began pacing. He would need to clear out soon. The Overwatch back up would be here soon. Unless, this figure was the Overwatch back up?

Reaper scoffed quietly. No. If they were Overwatch, he would have started fighting him immediately. Instead they were simply asking a question of Reaper. So, he complied, and replied. "Reaper." He spoke simply, getting right to the point as he strode forwards, no more than an arm's width away from Eyepatch. "What brought you here, Eyepatch?" He stressed the word Eyepatch, subtly saying that while he would take the name as an actual calling card, he knew that it wasn't the figure's real name. Maybe this Eyepatch had some intel on Overwatch.

Well... Maybe that was the wrong question to ask. The gunslinging figure broke eye-contact from the eyepatch and continually walked the same path as Kaneki watched with a quirked brow. Did they have memory issues or something? Hopefully this wouldn't be the beginning of a tale of agony and regret with the novel's two protagonists being tsundere and in the end, one dying for the other. Should've asked Jason his name, in that case. Might have saved me a lot of trouble, though the bastard wouldn't have died for anyone but himself.

The scoff under the mask was a bit unexpected, though it gave a slight better read to the situation than he previously had. That mask they donned made figuring them out a slight bit more difficult. He was thinking about something, or he would've immediately responded. Figuring out another alias? Buying time for allies to arrive?
"Reaper." Was the final answer they decided on. Kaneki immediately thought CCG, out of instinct hearing the word, but surely this person was not affiliated with them, though the possibility was there that they were delusional and believed themselves as such...
The pace forward the masked individual made seemed almost as though they read that exact thought, stopping just before Kaneki would've deemed them threatening. "What brought you here, Eyepatch?" They asked, negative emphasis on the alias. That was slightly ludicrous in his humble opinion; they should've understood the protocol caution of using one, based on their slinging of weapons and obvious experience with them, they either had been the type to need an alias, either that or they had connections, for a good while.

"My brother brought me here," Kaneki cleared his throat, pausing to adjust his coat and give himself another instant to think of what to tell them. "He got angry with me and left a few hours ago. Haven't seen him since, and he isn't trained in self-defense. I'm a bit concerned he got in a bit of trouble, as he tends to, and a body was found here. You probably know more about that than I do, though," Kaneki gave the word the same venom as Reaper had. "He's a bit shorter than me with black hair. He was wearing a blue... ish jacket." He hadn't seen the damn thing in so long, he couldn't even remember the actual color, to be honest...

((OoC - You see what I did there? Oh god my feels tho.))