Chapter Text
Lenalee saw black hair whip around a corner and hurried to catch up.
"Kanda!" She said, then yelled, from right beside him.
He begrudgingly glanced at her. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to make sure you're okay."
"Why wouldn't I be?" he said. Expression as dead and neutral as always.
"Because of what happened," she said, panting a little as he sped up and she had to jog. He'd had a growth spurt and his legs were too long for her now. Unfair.
"On the mission," she said, and his fists tightened. "Everything…I just thought it might bring up old memories. Are you okay?"
Kanda turned suddenly and pushed open a door, Lenalee nearly crashing into the frame as she hastily followed.
They were in one of the training rooms, Kanda's favorite, where no one else came and he could meditate without interruption.
She might've felt guilty, but this was Kanda, and he didn't take care of himself unless forced to. She stood her ground.
He sat and looked up at her. Actually met her eyes, and she was surprised that his expression wasn't just the closed-off anger of usual.
"I can remember without being hurt," he told her calmly. "I'm getting better."
Lenalee was so surprised she flumped down on the floor beside him.
"How?" she asked. "I can't—I don't even know how…"
"Perspective," he said. "It happened; you can't change it; you just have to accept. It'll always be sad and that's just life. Once you stop avoiding your memories, remembering isn't as painful."
"That sounds too simple," she said. "And trite."
Kanda snorted, the closest he'd come to a laugh in weeks.
"Plus if anyone's going to be trite, it'll be Lavi," she continued.
He broke into a crooked smile.
"Are you done bothering me?"
She stuck up her nose. "Yes. Enjoy your solitude."
"I shall," he snorted.
"Whatcha doing?" Lavi asked cheerfully, coming up behind Allen in the cafeteria.
"Hello, Lavi. I'm not doing anything."
Lavi put his head on Allen's shoulder and followed his gaze.
"Oo, pretty hair," Lavi cooed, before Allen could shoo him off with an irked glance. "Aw, you have a crush."
"I do not," Allen snarled, and took his plates from Jerry with a vicious tug.
Getting his food, Lavi followed quickly behind him, shoving Allen at the table where Kanda sat so that Allen tumbled down onto the bench. Across the table, Kanda glared at each of them in turn before focusing all his attention on his noodles.
"You have a crush," Lavi continued, singsong, poking Allen in a ticklish spot before Allen could attempt the violence his eyes promised. "Yuu, listen to this: Allen liiiiikes someone. Bet you can't guess…"
"Shut up," Allen said, pushing Lavi off.
"Like I care about your love life," Kanda grunted, standing and collecting his dishes. "Moyashi."
"It's Allen!"
"And don't," Kanda said to Lavi, ignoring him, "call me Yuu. I'm in a bad mood."
He touched his sword meaningfully before stalking off.
"Why are you such an idiot, Lavi?" Allen burst out in a hiss.
"What? You don't want your beautiful long-haired comrade to notice you?" Lavi teased.
To his surprise, Allen leveled him with a cold look that Lavi had rarely seen him give akuma, let alone other people.
"Wait, wait," Lavi stuttered, "you actually have a crush—?"
"I said," Allen bit out, "to shut up."
Scooting a distance down the bench, Allen began to eat. Lavi stared.
"Everyone left you again?" came Lenalee's voice, making Lavi whip around. She took Kanda's vacated seat across from Lavi. "Another practical joke?"
"I think Allen likes Kanda," Lavi whispered in wonder.
Lenalee straightened.
"What?" she asked, lowering her voice.
"He—you should've seen him. He got so defensive."
"Allen? I thought you were going to say Kanda liked him."
It was Lavi's turn to gape.
"Well, it's not like Kanda tolerates anyone else's existence," Lenalee defended.
"And he tolerates Allen's?"
"Kanda taunts him. Normally Kanda insults people so they won't follow him, and then leaves. But he prods Allen into coming after him."
"I think that's just their competitive natures coming out."
"Maybe," she shrugged and took a bite. "Maybe not."
At the other end of the table, Allen stood up. Half his plates were still full, but he took them and deposited them by the kitchen before trudging out—through the opposite door from where Kanda had gone.
"Shit, it's gotta be a crush," Lavi said. "Allen doesn't give up food for anything."
"Kanda, Lenalee will bring the townsfolk at any moment now. We need to take him down."
"I'm not done inspecting this," Kanda said back, peering closely at the marks on the man's wrists.
"Kanda!" Allen hissed. "You can look at it later."
"It looks kinda like a curse," Kanda went on, as if Allen were mute. "Look. It's kind of like your eye."
"It's not the akuma virus."
"No-duh it's not! Just look at it, Moyashi. See what you think."
"You want my help?" Allen asked, surprised and suddenly prepared to be smug.
"Will you look at it or not?"
"Not until we bring him down."
"Fine!" Kanda threw up his hands and walked a few steps away. "You do it, then."
"Scared of dead bodies?" Allen sneered. He hated this. He hated having to move the dead—seeing them not at peace, seeing them splayed out like this.
Kanda's voice was low and hard. "Only crucified ones."
Allen shut his mouth and took the body down alone.
Allen shut himself in his room, sat on his bed, and sank his head in his hands. His stomach grumbled, but he was the farthest thing from hungry. Komui's words played over in his head.
"I'm sorry you had to see that. It's like Daisya all over again."
All over again. Kanda had found that body too. Maybe he pretended he didn't care, but Kanda couldn't pretend that nobody mattered to him. Allen could see right through him. Kanda cared—about the people he'd known for long enough, the few he trusted, like Lenalee whom he'd grown up with. He'd grown up with Daisya too.
The likely reason Kanda never talked about Daisya wasn't that he didn't care, but because he did.
Allen walked to Komui's office for his next assignment, sleepless and exhausted.
Everyone in the Order is broken. The Order hurts everyone it touches. We're all destroyed little pieces of ourselves. And that's what God wants for us. He likes it when we're in pain.
If God wouldn't do anything about it, Allen would. Allen cared. He'd protect people. God could sit in his glass castle and watch from afar, but Allen was going to fight. Even if it meant breaking into even more pieces every time he raised his sword.
Tasting bile, Allen spat on the ground.
"That one's for you," he whispered spitefully at the ceiling.
If God cared, he could come down and face Allen in person.