Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A note, though: this fic will have a lot of headcanons crammed into it as it’s based off my blog. So here’s the main to keep in mind character wise:

• Allen: afab; identifies as a nonbinary trans person who is comfortable using he/him pronouns; asexual; in a relationship with Kanda.
• Kanda: amab; identifies as an agender asexual person—only reason he calls himself a guy is because that’s what they called him when he first woke up; is cool with he/him pronouns; in a relationship with Allen.
• Lenalee: cis female (she/her), and really, really loves girls—very gay; in a queerplatonic relationship with Lavi.
• Lavi: afab; identifies as a trans-agender person; really doesn’t care much about gender, but does not like being called a girl (flip-flops between he/him and they/them); in a queerplatonic relationship with Lenalee; aromantic and asexual.

Sometimes Kanda wondered if it was even worth it to stick around with the Order, what with all the shit he and the others had to put up with. Missions and annoying people were one thing, but being shrunk down to a child, being infected by some sort of zombie-virus, and losing about a day and a half’s worth of his memory was bound to push the limits. The last time his body had been altered to such an extent was during his time in the Lab—I’m not going to think about that. He was just thankful that he was finally in his own damn body and back to normal. The next time he saw Bak, he’d thank him…or at least not being completely mean to him. (1)

He would never say this to the Supervisor’s face, but Komui was a good man with a big heart who tried to do his job the best he could. However, for all his positive deeds and wholesome character, the man did not know when to draw the line and limit himself. Kanda doubted that the members of the other branches of the Order had to put up with the shit that went down in the European Branch. From experience, he knew that the Asian Branch reared its head as a close second, but this branch was something on a different level of weird.

As he looked around at the people busy around him, he could see them pause every so often to rub the same spot on their body: the place where they were bitten and infected. From what he had heard from a few others (Allen, Marie, and Lenalee), the bites had scarred over since they were deep. He was the only one without a bite mark, but he was not quite sure how to feel about that—thankful, perhaps, but also bothered as it was a reminder that he was not like everyone else.

Grumbling, he hefted three heavy boxes in his arms, all containing miscellaneous items from the Science Department. He made sure to be especially careful with them, not wanting yet another incident. “We could have already been done packing and loading all this days ago, but someone had to go and make some apocalyptic plague that went and infected everyone,” he griped.

“Look on the bright side, Kanda,” Johnny grinned at him as he set down the crate he was carrying on the metal cart. They were still packing the last pieces of equipment and such from the Science Department, waiting to get everything loaded on the carts and so that the Arc could be opened.  “At least we’re all back to normal and not infected anymore. Can you imagine what it would have been like if Bak came a week later? We all probably would have killed each other!”

How fucked up were their lives that the brightest thing that happened to them lately was not dying?

From his spot in the bed of the cart, Allen stood up after setting down a particularly delicate piece of machinery that Kanda had no knowledge of its function. “Cheers, love,” he smiled at him, leaning on a stack of sheet metal and loosely taped cardboard boxes, “we’re all safe and sound now, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Coming from anyone else, Kanda would have grumbled their platitudes aside and shrugged them off. However, the white-haired exorcist was one of the few people that didn’t annoy the ever-loving crap out of him, or make him want to drown himself in a roaring river (even though his core-heart would just jolt his body back to life after about 580 seconds). That, and the Moyashi was pleasant company, if he had to admit. Kanda guessed he could have picked a worse partner to have in his life, if he really thought about it.

He rolled his eyes as he balanced the boxes in his arms on top of another stack of precariously stacked packages. “This coming from the person who worries about people all the time.”

That light in his mercury eyes and quirk of his light pink lips, the one that dimpled his star-scarred cheeks meant nothing good. (2) “Now, now, I could argue that you should worry a little more, Bakanda.” That particular flutter of sliver eyelashes was the cherry on top: a blatant show of flirtatious behavior.

Kanda snorted while Johnny laughed, crossing his arms lightly over his graphic t-shirt. “Allen, now is not the time to be flirting, you goof!” The taller man had a few blessings that he could truly count to heart, but he would say that Johnny was one of them…no matter how exasperating he could be with his nearly always chipper attitude. He, like nearly everyone else in the European branch, had no problem with his and Allen’s relationship—with “non-biblical” male-female relationships, really. Hell, even Komui was trying to help Lenalee get a girlfriend. The only time any queer person had to worry about keeping their actions in check was when any of the Central idiots came to HQ. Heresy, sodomy, and the like were prime examples for a death sentence (if Central was particularly ornery) or torture (if they were more lenient). Exorcists would get the latter sentence since they were just pretty tools for the Order to use in their War. Can’t kill your weapons before you get all your use from them, came the derisive thought.

Who was he kidding? He was a weapon since he took his first breath out of the birthing pool.

Don’t think about it, dammit.

Allen grinned, “Now, that can’t be true, Johnny. I can flirt with this frowny rock any time of the—oh crap!” He leaned a little bit too much against the sheet metal, causing it to fall off the cart with a loud clamoring. Before anyone could do anything, the boxes tumbled off the cart and crashed to the floor, weak tape not stopping the contents from spilling everywhere. There was a pregnant pause as all three of them stared at the box, then each other. The few other people working around them paused to look at the mess, but continued what they were doing. With wide eyes, Allen grinned sheepishly. “…Oops?” he said as he hefted himself from the cart in order to pick up the mess.

Rolling his eyes, Kanda flicked Allen in the forehead, ignoring the ‘ow’ that came from him, and started to pick up all the junk that fell out. “Jesus Christ, Moyashi, could you be any clumsier?” It would be best to move the sheet metal first as the pieces were too wide and cumbersome for one person to handle on their own. Get the worse part over with and all that.

“I don’t know, Bakanda,” he quipped with a vulpine smirk, “I think the view was making me a little distracted.” He snickered as Kanda took a swipe at him with the stack of messy papers in his hand. With his own pile of books in hand, he pointed to Kanda as he turned in Johnny’s direction. “Do you see the terrible abuse that I have to put up with, Johnny? It’s absolutely criminal, a damn shame.”

Johnny snorted. “I don’t know how you two get anything done,” he said as he sifted through and surveyed all the items that fell out of the boxes. “Nothing broken so far, thank goodness—but yeah, I think the only things I’ve seen you two do lately either fight or flirt, haha.”

“Please, all that flirting is all Moyashi. It’s almost as if he’s turning into a second Usagi.”

“I beg your pardon?” came the affronted scoff from Allen. His sounded so slighted that Kanda had to turn his head in order to hide his small smile. Teasing Allen was one of his favorite past times. “I do have standards, you know, unlike Lavi who would flirt with anything that looks even momentarily pretty.” Which was fairly odd considering the well-known fact that Lavi did not do romantic or sexual relationships with others. Kanda guessed that Lavi just liked to have fun…or something like that. With the energetic red-head, it was impossible to be certain.

Conversation died down for a few minutes as they continued to gather and reload everything that had fallen from the cart—this time, sans boxes as the cheap cardboard had torn beyond repair in the fall. The first things to go back were the strips of sheet metal, which took two to handle and one to guide. Kanda and Allen were the ones to maneuver them back into the cart while Johnny was doing an excellent job of directing them—it would suck if either of them took the wrong step and slipped, because that would spell trouble for the other person. One slip, and someone would be chopped in half by the almost razor-sharp metal edges. While Kanda wasn’t worried about himself, his partner, on the other hand, did not share in his regenerative abilities.

Once the heavy sheet metal was in the cart, they had to figure a way to get the miscellaneous items back in there as well. One of them would probably have to sit in the cart and hold on to the stuff so they wouldn’t fall off. Just as he was about to bring up the suggestion, Johnny let out an excited shout.

“Oh wow, it’s our lucky day, guys!” he grinned, looking at something in his hands.

“A way to get the Usagi to shut his mouth forever?”

“A way to end the war?”

There was a pause and a look exchanged between Allen and Kanda as soon as their responses left their mouths. Two different people, two different answers.

“No, no, if only,” Johnny sighed and shook his head, sounding entirely wistful. They all would have loved to stop fighting for the ‘Holy’ War and watching their friends die. “I haven’t seen this thing since I started here. Look!” He thrusted what looked to be a giant tome in front of them. It was ridiculously huge, being the size of three large Bibles put together, and (from what was sticking out from in-between the pages) was appeared to be a makeshift collection of notes, added result sheets, and other scientific things that made no sense to Kanda.

“What on earth is that?” Allen stared at the tome in Johnny’s hands.

It was like Allen asked Johnny what was his favorite thing to do. Eyes beaming behind his thick glasses, Johnny flipped the giant book open as he balanced it in his arms. He pointed to a random page as he started explaining, “We in the science department took it upon ourselves to research fusion more in detail. Even though fusion hasn’t had the…best history here in the Order,” here everyone grimaced, well aware of the Order’s dirty experiments on the exorcists and fusers, “we wanted to help those who could fuse, even though no one has been able to do so in a long time.”

As weird as the science department was, they were good people. Fucking oddballs, but good people, he supposed.

Leaning in closer to get a better look at the page, Kanda could see notes on fusion theory concerning the Bible. There were drawings of a giant and the angels, and under those were some diagrams that confused him. “‘The Trinity could possibly be considered a fusion as it explains that there are three beings in one God: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit,’” he read from the page. “‘Even Goliath the Giant could possibly be a fusion—enormous height, greater strength far surpassing the average man, etc.’” He’d only read the Bible a few times, as required by the Order and their theology classes, but Kanda did remember reading about the story of David and Goliath. Reading this and thinking about the story, it did seem to make sense.

On another page, there were notes about experiments and observations recorded about early Order fusions and fusers. He tried to hold back a disgusted sneer—the damn Order could never stop with their experiments. At least the current people in the science department, like Johnny and Reever, were much more humane. “‘Incompatibility in fusions results in inhuman features appearing: tails, odd eyes, extra limbs, extra eyes, distorted voices, mental instability, and so forth. Early experiments lead under Central exploited this instability—lead to failure and lack of compatibility between exorcists trying to fuse. Possible solution: perhaps have fusers work together more and become more understanding towards one another. Greater compatibility = more stable fusion. Class on fusion, maybe?’” As awful at Central was, he could tell even in the notes that the science department was doing their best not to let the awful experiments repeat again.

“That sounds like a good idea—the fusion class, I mean,” Allen remarked before flipping to another random page. “‘The Archangel Micheal ‘rid the earth and its inhabitants of the toxins associated with fear’ and he fought Lucifer, casting him out of heaven. Great feat = great power…consider theory: such powerful, celestial fusions are very rare—there are few archangels. In a different vein, also take into consideration that the Millennium Earl could be a fusion—parts of Noah coming together/Noah separating into separate entities.’” He blinked before looking at Johnny. “Wow! I would have never thought about this. That’s quite keen of all of you. Then again,” he laughed in a cynical manner, “it took me a while to learn how to read.”

That seemed to take Johnny by surprise as the curly-haired man leaned back. “Wait, huh? Didn’t your parents teach you how to read, Allen?”

Kanda hated that particular smile that his partner plastered on his face—very fake, very misleading, and utterly self-deprecating. “I was an orphan until my foster father, Mana, took me in. Even then, I only learned the basics as we were more concerned about earning our keep than literacy.”  He had heard Allen talk about Mana only a few times, and even then, they were short tid-bits about their time on the road or acts they performed in the circus. But one thing he did know for a fact: Allen loved Mana with everything he had.

…Just like he loved Alma and ‘that person.’ And look where that got them…

“Oh dear, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to bring up any—”

Allen waved him off, plastic smile still on his face. “Don’t worry about it, Johnny. It’s not a problem. I am completely literate now, and I don’t regret anything I learned with my time with Mana and the circus.”

Johnny looked as if he wanted to say more, but he kept it to himself has he sat on the edge of the cart. “A-Ahh, well, did Mana teach you anything special when you were with him? Any neat tricks?”

Allen’s eyes widened and he blinked in surprise; he was not used to being asked questions like that. His surprise soon died down only to be replaced with a comfortable air. Crossing his arms, his face relaxed, eyes half-lidded with memory and a gentle smile tweaking his lips. As he crossed his arms, he leaned against the edge of the cart next to Johnny and looked up. “Wow…I haven’t thought about this stuff in a while,” he said with a laugh; fond, but with a bittersweet twist. “Mana taught me a lot—how to be a good clown, how not to get mad at every little thing, and how to maintain good balance. Actually, now that I think about it, it was actually Mana that first told me about fusion. I never knew what it was before…”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Wee little orphan, remember?”

Today was just not Johnny’s day. He seemed to have near permanent foot-in-mouth syndrome, and Kanda felt a little pity as he watched the man sweat and desperately try to apologize to Allen. “Oh my God, Allen I am so, so sorry!” His curly hair was bouncing all around as he flailed his arms around.

Allen waved a flippant hand, giving the scientist a placating smile. “Johnny, I told you, it’s ok. I don’t mind. Truthfully, if you want to make me feel better, why don’t you tell me about your experiences learning about fusion and such?”

Kanda snorted at Johnny’s eagerness to change topics. “Yes, of course! Well, like any other young kid with cousins, most of my brief fusion experiences were with them.” He laughed, fondness clear in his tone. “Hahaha, I used to be so excited when I fused with one of my few cousins that didn’t need glasses. It was the only time in my life when I didn’t need to wear these things!” He grinned as he adjusted the thick glasses in mention.

Wait, so fusion is common among little kids? Kanda thought, perplexed. I thought only adults could achieve fusion. “Johnny,” he said, getting the scientist’s attention. “You said that you used to fuse with your cousins as a kid. How?”

Confusion was evident on Johnny’s face, parallel to Allen’s own questioning eyebrow. “‘How’? What do you mean how?” He shrugged, as if the answer was the most logical in the world, “We just did, you know? Didn’t you ever fuse with your family when you were younger, Kanda?”

He fidgeted with the beaded bracelet on his wrist. Younger…What was age relative to him, really? Mentally he was in his late teens; however, chronologically, he was only nine. I’m not like you all. I’m not normal—I’m barely even a real human. Little nuances in his everyday life made him all the more aware how unlike everyone else he was—lack of scars, regeneration, confusion about people, and apparently, a lack of understanding about the normality of fusion. He hated talking about himself like this, so he chose his words to the best of his ability, “I…don’t have any siblings, and I never knew my parents.” Family—Alma, Edgar, Twi. “So, no. I’ve actually never fused with anyone in my life.”

That being said, he noticed Allen look sharply in his direction, and Kanda gave him a particular look. To others, it appeared that he was annoyed, but he knew that Allen would read it as concern. What’s wrong?

“I’m in the same boat as Kanda,” Allen remarked, not looking away from Kanda’s eyes. “I’ve never been compatible with anyone in my life to achieve fusion. I don’t know what it’s like.” For what seemed like an eternity, they held gazes, and Kanda could almost feel the other desire to be understood what it was like to be different, noncompatible, odd (unwanted, was left unsaid). “But,” Allen moved his eyes to look back at Johnny, “Mana told me all the time what it was like to fuse with his brother when they were younger.”

“Hn, Tiedoll used to blather on about he and his wife fusing from time to time.” (3)

Johnny, the ever-emotional man, looked as if he were about to cry. He sniffled, gripping the tome in his hands tighter. “God, I am an awful friend. Here I am blathering on about my experiences when you guys have never gotten to fuse in your lives! I’m so sorry.” Both Allen and Kanda knew that the ‘sorry’ extended past just fusion—their less than stellar childhoods and the like.

Polite as ever, Allen tried to calm down Johnny, but Kanda could see the slight exasperation behind his smile. “It’s fine, Johnny. Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get this stuff packed so I can open the Ark soon, alright?”

“Y-Yeah, okay!”

Just as they were about to finish, Kanda heard rushed footsteps behind them, coupled with, “Walker! Kanda!” It was Link speed walking towards them. The exorcist wanted to roll his eyes. Maybe the lapdog thought he was too dignified to waste his energy running.

Allen smiled as Link neared them, waving his arm in greeting. Why did his idiot have to be so damn friendly, especially to someone like the lapdog? “Link! You here to help us?”

The blonde Inspector stopped in front of them, and it was this close that Kanda could read the urgency in his expression. Looking over to Allen, he knew he could see it as well. “No, Walker. Supervisor Komui has a mission for the two of you—there’s been a flood of Akuma two towns over. He wants you in his office immediately.”

“Che,” Kanda couldn’t help but smirk. And here he thought it was something fucking serious. Akuma were child’s play at this point—they were probabaly Level Two’s and a fewThree’s like usual. “Good, gives me a reason to stretch my legs. I was getting bored lugging all this shit around.”

He would have expected Allen to chide him about being so lax at the suffering of others or whatever, but he was pleased to see and equally restless and eager grin on his star-speckled face.

“Business calls, sorry Johnny. Got to do what we do best.”

No matter what people said, Allen had a particular violent streak about him (buried far beneath that fake, plastic, polite exterior), and fuck if that wasn’t attractive.

He cracked his neck. “Well, time to blow some shit up.” (4)

This had not been what Allen had in mind.

In fact, it was the exact opposite.

Both he and Kanda had thought this was going to be an easy mission—clear the area of civilians, take out some low-level Akuma, and be on their way back to the Order. Simple, like most of their non-Innocence related missions were. Well, he felt like he should have bitten his tongue before saying this was going to be an easy, by-the-book mission. He swore under his breath as he backflipped away from a spray of bullets from the Level Three targeting him. Of course this would happen, he griped to himself. I was practically asking for this—‘This is what we do best’, please. Easy my arse, ugh.

Komui had debriefed them that there had been a large swarm of Akuma attacking the agricultural town of Montaigu, near their current headquarters. In order to assure a secure move to the new headquarters, the Akuma threat had to be eradicated—if they chanced moving while the attack was taking place, they could risk the possibility of one following them and alerting the Earl. The mission was mandatory, not only for the lives of the people of the town, but also for the safety of everyone who lived in the Order.

From what he saw when they had first arrived in the town, it used to be bustling—sturdy brick houses lined in neat rows with small farms decorating the green plains. Plenty of wagons and beasts of burden roaming about—fleeing in this case—had informed him of the level of business the town had received. Now, it was just ash, rubble, and burnt debris everywhere. The farms were either burnt or currently burning; most of the cattle were dead or bleeding out; and the wagons, carts, and buildings were completely destroyed. It saddened him to see should gratuitous destruction, such violence and carnage, but this was what he had signed up for.

This was what he had wanted, to be an exorcist.

But what was an exorcist, in truth, if not another weapon to use in war?

People died because they were not fast enough, not strong enough, not enough, enough, enough. Just…not enough. Because they did not arrive sooner, most of the people in the village were dead…the ones they had not evacuated in time. The ash-dust and clothing at his feet were the hallmark of such.

Kanda snarled as he slashed through a handful of stubborn Akuma who had been following him through the fray for the longest. “What the actual fuck?! Komui said this was going to be freaking simple. A hoard of Two’s, Three’s, and a Four is in no way simple!”

Allen could not help but agree with Kanda, as surprising as that sounded. The Level Four alone had taken both of them to destroy earlier, not to mention the difficulty of trying to do so while not being killed by the other Levels. “Link!” he yelled over his shoulder, twisting just in the nick of time as to not be squashed by a charging Akuma. He hissed when he felt a bullet clip his cheek and the burning poison stars spread across his skin before disappearing. “How is the evacuation going? We’re getting pretty run down here!”

He wasn’t even exaggerating. He was positive he had a broken rib by the way he felt it shift in his chest whenever he moved, had minor lacerations decorating his entire body, and there was an almighty bruise steadily forming on his back from being thrown through a building. Kanda, for all his regenerative healing, did not have it easy either. Even from tens of feet from him, Allen could see the deep slashes on the other’s arms and shoulders trying to knit themselves back together. A bruise that he had received a few minutes ago was coloring one of his gorgeous cobalt eyes a sickening yellow-green, and the tremble in his left leg, the one that’s Achilles tendon had gotten swiped by a bear-like Akuma, was particularly worrisome.

On top of that, countless Edge End’s had made Allen virtually exhausted, and the use of Triple Illusion was taking its toll on Kanda.

From his field of vision, he saw the blonde-haired CROW running to scoop up a small, crying child. Even in the midst of fighting and trying not to die, he could not help but feel a pang of pity and concern for the young girl. Was her family among the dust and clothes strewn about the village, or did they escape and were waiting for her in a safe area? “This is the last of the civilians!” Link called back, narrowly avowing a huge rogue bullet destroying the brick wall behind him. The girl shrieked and clung tighter to Link. “I’ve got her, so focus on the task at hand! I will meet with you two after I ensure the safety of her and the other civilians. Make sure you are alive when I return, Walker.”

Him? Allen was not worried about himself in the slightest, but oh, how he prayed those two would be safe.  He had already seen at least ten souls floating aimlessly over the rubble of their former houses, wailing and shrieking in anguish. (5) Please not another orphan. I can’t see another one today, I—

Help us!

Save meee…

Please, please kill me!

My baby, where is she?

Someone please help me!

—Before he realized how spaced out he became in the middle of a battle field, he felt the air shift behind him. Turning with wide, surprised eyes, he felt a cold shock of horror as he saw the maw of an Akuma speeding right towards him. It’s large, canine teeth glistened in the sunlight as it grew closer and closer, and Allen knew that he was not going to be able to move in time…even with Crown Clown. His Innocence’s web-like cloak would not be able to move him or the Akuma out of the way in time, nor could he deflect the creature with his Sword of Exorcism before contact. Shit, shit, shit! I have to do something!

“Time to die, filthy exorcist!”

“Get your damn head out of the clouds, Moyashi, and move!”

A body slammed into his, but it was not as heavy as he expected. Not Akuma, not death. Rolling with the momentum, he sprang up from the dirt, whirling around to see how in the nine circles of hell he was still alive. He nearly lost it at what he saw. Kanda had been shoved against a broken wall by the Akuma that would have killed Allen, arm trapped in the mouth of the blood-thirsty clown-like abomination. “Kanda!”

“Not today, you damn monster!” The Akuma was damaged enough that a hard, impaling strike from Mugen blew the thing to pieces. Allen heard his partner’s cry through the poison smoke.

“Kanda!” He sliced through the last two Akuma before running as fast as his beaten body could. Coughing through the thick, toxic smoke, trying to clear his burning lungs, he fell to his knees once he reached the other exorcist. “Kanda, are you okay? Christ, please tell me the Akuma didn’t tear your arm off.”

The hesitant answer did not make him feel any better, “…Well, my arm is still attached,” he coughed, trying to clear his throat. Thankfully, it did not sound wet, so internal bleeding could be ruled out.

“Then why do you sound like that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dammit, he could not see with this smoke, and oh my God why did Kanda’s arm feel drenched? Allen swallowed, trying to clear the impending panic that was rising in his chest. Please be sweat or drool, please be sweat or drool. “Kanda, don’t play coy—it’s not cute …Why do I feel so much liquid on your arm?” His voice was just on this side of high-pitched worry.

Just as the other was about to answer, the smoke cleared just enough to see the absolute, bleeding mess that was Kanda’s arm.

“What the hell, Kanda! Look at your arm!”

“I’m not blind, baka. I can see and feel it.” Drained, he slumped against the wall, panting as he leaned his head back. Triple Illusion thankfully wore off, and the shorter exorcist watched as his pupils returned to normal and the prominent veins receded back into his skin. Allen hated when Kanda used any of the Forbidden Illusions as he knew they drained his life force, even if it was a little at a time.

“You shouldn’t have pushed me out the way. Now look at yourself!

“If you weren’t fucking daydreaming while on the field, you could have killed that Akuma yourself! And I’m fine, so don’t worry about it, Moyashi.”

“‘Don’t worry about it’? You’re bleeding out from your damn hamburger-arm, Bakanda! I can see your bone!”

“That’s what regeneration is for, you slow fool. You’ve seen me take worse.” The wince that crossed his face when he shifted did not help his case, the damn idiot.

“That doesn’t matter! You shouldn’t have saved me.”

Kanda shot him a piercing glare that spoke more than just anger. “Why, so I could let you be chewed up? Why the fuck are you so riled about my arm?!”

God, arguing with this man was like talking to a brick wall, he mentally groaned. He spluttered, “B-Because you could die of blood loss, regeneration be damned. If you bleed out before you can make new blood, that’s not going to be a lot of help for you!" 

“And like I was supposed to watch you be turned into an Akuma’s dinner?! You must be out of your goddamn mind!”

The shouting and arguing continued until it reached the exploding point. They both screamed in vexed frustration, “Ughhh, why can’t you just understand that I love you, dammit?!”

There was silence among the rubble and dust.

Allen met Kanda’s wide-eyed look with one of his own. A warm, but shocked feeling pulsed throughout his body, sending his blood rushing in a way that wasn’t all that bad. He’s never said he’s loved me before…It was in this moment that Allen took the time to really look at Kanda in detail. Even around the ugly bruise fading from one of his almond eyes, they stared at him in wonder while messy, long raven hair fell over his shoulders. His hair tie had slipped off mid-battle. His cheeks were flushed with color, most likely hot to the touch. The cuts on his body were finally knitting shut, but that did not get rid of the blood that was drying on his lightly tanned skin. The man in front of him was dusty, bloody, a mess, and tired.

If that wasn’t the most beautiful thing Allen had seen today, he would be lying.

“…You love me?” they ended up asking at the same time, perplexed as all hell.

They abruptly cut off, but ended up dissolving into laughter. Through his own soft giggles (he had to be careful of his rib), tears prickling his lashes, and arm wrapped around his middle, he heard the deep, though embarrassed chuckles roll out of Kanda—he had such a handsome, warm laugh; it was a shame he didn’t use it more.

After they had both calmed down from their near high, Allen let out another laugh, shifting to lean right next to Kanda. “I’ve loved you for the longest, Bakanda.”

Kanda snorted, stretch out his weak leg in front of him. “Really, now?

“Yeah,” he smiled. He felt like he could fall dead asleep right now, he was so tired. Maybe they could just take a quick rest here for a bit. “And you?”

“The same.” He huffed in amusement. “Heh, you would think after dating for as long as we have, someone would have said it already.”

“Guess we’re both stubborn, then.”

“You, maybe,” Kanda smirked, side-eying Allen before looking up to the sky. “Don’t lump me in with you, Moyashi. You’re on your own level of pig-headedness.”

Allen rolled his eyes, wincing as a few flecks of dried blood that had clumped on his eyelashes fell into his left eye. That Level Four earlier had not been a pretty sight, the churning, eldritch abomination that it was. Those poor souls, those poor people…He had managed not to be sick, but his eye had bled profusely.  But, I shouldn’t think about that now. The Innocence purified them, sent them off to be free. It’s okay, he had to remind himself. “Well, I guess I’ll have to make sure to break that stubbornness by telling you I love you as much as I can.”

The blush came back to Kanda’s cheeks, and Allen tried (and failed) to hold in his laugh. “Please, don’t flatter—”

“You won’t get to tell him anymore, exorcist.”

The voice alerted him before the sickening, disgusting aura did. He stopped breathing for a moment as he twisted his neck to see one of his worst fear come true. No, no, no! He paid no mind to the warm blood that was welling out of his eye as the sight before him was much worse. Perched on top of the dilapidated wall was a Level Four Akuma, doll-like features smiling at them with an air of twisted glee. “I’m going to enjoy killing you two,” the high-pitched, almost fairy-like voice giggled. “I was nearly sick as I watched the two of you from the trees, gushing over one another. Humans are so sentimental, it’s so funny!”

He wouldn’t be able to move in time, he realized with great trepidation. Even if he had the few extra seconds, his body was too beaten and slow to be effective—he did not even have the energy to stand. Crown Clown wouldn’t be able to protect him from all that dark matter with how close the Akuma was to them. The Level Four was less than two feet from them, weapons trained at their heads. With a fleeting glance to Kanda, he knew the other was aware of the same. I’m going to die here, the thought made his heart clench in an unbearable vice, and the little breath he was getting into his lungs rushed out of him once again.

He was going to die.

Kanda was going to die…

“Goodnight, you pests!” The Akuma gleefully wrenched its mouth open. The hot dark matter beam super-charging from the back of its throat could have been almost likened to a star. A supernova, an end—their end.

I can’t let him die, he has to live, has to liveliveliveLIVELIVE!

In a surge of desperation, Allen rolled his body—pain be damned—on top of Kanda’s just as the other flipped to move closer to him. As Crown Clown’s cloak stretched over them, he felt Kanda flare Mugen with as much crackling energy as possible to try and protect them. He couldn’t tell if the ringing he was hearing was due to the dark matter beam about to obliterate them or their Innocence’s frantic efforts to expend as much power as they could.

He felt heat and crushing pressure engulf his body, swarming around him like a raging inferno. The ringing grew more intense as each millisecond passed, but he could not tell if that was him dying or the energy frying his brain. He screamed, trying his hardest to power up Crown Clown more because Kanda couldn’t die!

I love you too much for you to die now!

You have to live!

Heat and encompassing light drowned him out.

The first thing he was aware of was sadistic laughter and crackling energy around him. It was muffled due to some type of fabric that covered his body, warm and light, yet durable at the same time. Crown Clown, his mind supplied.

Opening his eyes, he saw one clawed hand gripping the white, almost glowing cloak close to him, while the other hand, swathed in a cloth arm guard, clutched a ringing sword humming with power. Mugen, the name came to the forefront of his mind. Underneath the arm guard, he could feel the heavy injuries finish healing. As he waited for the pressure and energy of the attack that was being fired at him to dissipate, he stayed low to the ground, protected by the cloak. Minor pain on the side of his chest alerted him to a damaged rib, but he could feel his regenerative ability working to fix it, along with the other wounds on his body like the slashed tendon in his leg.

A moment passed, and the attack disappeared coupled with the surprised sound of the Akuma. “What the hell?” he heard the creature gasp in shock.

With that, he knew it was safe to stand, and he could not help the grin that nearly split his face. He ignored the slight vertigo that came with the change in position—he saw everything from a higher angle now, weird—because God, this feeling was amazing. A type of power that he had never felt before practically lit his cells on fire with the need to expend it. With every tic of his muscles, he could almost feel the power bleed out of his pores, and his fingers were twitching because of it. Even through the debris and smoke around him, he could not hold back the laugh that broke free of his chest.

He felt like he could take on any damn thing he wanted to.

When the smoke cleared, he was delighted to see the shock and confusion on the Akuma’s face. “Who the hell are you?” it asked as it hovered back a few inches.

“‘S nice to meet you, Akuma,” he bared his teeth in something akin to a predator’s grin. “My name is Kallen, your end.”

The Level Four frowned, then snarled, as if it were insulted he said as much. “Don’t get so cocky!” It trained its machine gun arms on Kallen and opened fire, bloodlust clear in its screaming voice. He had to admit, the bullets were fast—any normal person would not have been able to completely dodge them, only block them if they were skilled enough.

But, that was the thing—he was not a normal person in the slightest.

He jumped to the right in order to get out of the path of the bullets, but his own body surprised him with its strength and speed. Flung over several yards away, he had to slam his claw down in the dirt in order to slow himself down and not ram straight into a tree. Skidding to a stop, dust and ash kicked up in the air, he shifted his position and shot off again, this time in the direction of the Akuma. In a flash of a second, he was right in the Akuma’s personal space about to pin it on the ground and sever its head. Unfortunately, this Level Four seemed to be one of the craftier ones as it spun, dodging his claw, and latching on to his sword with its teeth.

Kallen was done playing, now.

Just as it began to giggle in delight, Kallen put his flexibility to use. Using the momentum of the lunge, he rolled in a tight ball (one he knew would be disgustingly impossible for someone else), taking the Akuma with him. He was too fast for it to detach, so as he threw and speared his sword through one of the trees, the creature followed suit. Its small body slammed against the already beaten tree, breaking it in half, and the sound of its head cracking against the bark was similar to the breaking of an egg. Time to destroy it like one, too.

A shift in the air alerted him to an attack being charged. Charging with speed like he never felt before, he shifted to his knees and bent backward practically double, dodging the dark matter beam. The burning heat was an inch away from his face and he could practically taste the ill intent in the air. Before the Akuma could attack him again, he lunged forward like a wolf attacking its prey, claw piercing through its chest and sword stabbing right through one of its eyes.

This close, he smirked in its face as he saw its horror and disbelief. Conversely, the closeness also made him even more aware of its awful and repulsive features. With his cursed eye, he was able to see the roiling, agonized morass that was bubbling underneath the Level Four’s physical shell. Damned souls were fused and mixed together like some bowl of soup-suffering, and he had to force himself not to physically jerk away from the desperate hands that were reaching for him, phantom hands not really there in the physical plane. Blood leaked steadily out of his eye and dripped on to the lotus blossom on the Akuma’s cheek—When did that get there?  That, combined with the voices screaming at him to end their suffering—Kill me! Save us! Please, help me!—Kallen decided it was time to end it.

Without preamble, he wrenched his claw and sword opposite ways, destroying the Akuma’s form. It was quick to explode, but his reflexes were nothing to complain about—grabbing the corner of Crown Clown’s cloak to cover the front of his body took not even a second. He waited for the noxious gas to disappear before uncovering himself and standing back up.

Deactivating Crown Clown and Mugen, he sighed, trying to calm himself. He could still feel the energy pulsing through his veins, wanting him to move, move, move, but the battle was over and won. He looked around the gouged, decimated area, looking for any signs of someone else. Where the hell did Link run off to? With a shake of his head, he chose a direction and began looking for the Inspector. The town was not very large, so he would have to come across the man sooner or later.

Plus, the walking might burn off some of this energy…

Where’s my bodyyyy?

I want my mommy!

God, please, don’t damn me here forever!

He picked up his pace as the voices of the dead souls, still lingering amongst the destruction and carnage, lamented their miseries and agony. Please, please be quiet. I’m sorry, I can’t help you. And why in the hell were there lotus blossoms everywhere? It was not just the excess energy that was making him jittery and shaky. These were Akuma, this was his curse. Why was he bothered this much about the souls? The almost unearthly cries of the souls had not bothered him this much since he was a child, still under Cross—

—But…he did not have the curse, not that particular one, when he was a child…

Did he?

My chest hurts so bad, my head hurts. Why am I breathing so hard?

He had…

He had his tattoo when he was younger. His curse tattoo and his—

—Blood was everywhere, on his hands, his face, his legs. He wanted to live, he didn’t want to die, not here. God, why were they doing this to him? Regeneration hurt so bad! It was so hard to breath, the blood in his lungs had not been coughed out yet. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop—

“Make it stop!”

He didn’t realize he had screamed that aloud until he noticed how raw his throat had gotten. He was breathing hard and hunched over, mismatched hands gripping his head and thick hair curtaining him from the outside world. Sweat was dripping down his face and on to the ground, and it was then he noticed a broken pane of glass reflecting his reflection back at him. As he stared at his self, he began to calm down and merely observe.

“Is that…i-is that me?” he whispered, quiet as a ghost.

He…he had never seen himself before.

Slanted, dark eyes, lighter than he knew Kanda had, stared back at him in wonder. He took in his dark skin, marred by star scars and red curse scar that started from his sweaty forehead, bisected his left eyebrow, and continued on to his face. His lips were darker than Allen’s or Kanda’s, but the shape was a mix of them both. The hair that was hiding him from his surroundings and sticking to his face was so long and thick! Still bent over, it nearly grazed the ground, so it must have been up to his knees if he stood. He had never seen this color on a person before, grayish-blue. The large red ribbon that held some of it back was incredibly loose, thus the mess that was around his face. He slowly touched his face with his Innocence hand (he took note that the dark purple, almost black markings of it that tattooed his shoulder bled into the tattoo of the curse on his chest), then the white-trimmed collar of his sleeveless snug shirt. It was the same navy blue as the arm guard that was around his left arm. Trailing down the arm guard, his eyes went down to his light gray pants and his brown, knee-high boots. The boots were almost exactly like Allen’s, even down to the red edging at the ends.

He felt like Narcissus continuously looking at himself in the mirror like this, but he could not help it! A warm, bubbly feeling rose in his chest, and he stood up giggling like a delighted child.

I am me, and I love it!

He was a fusion, and he was beautiful.

Wiping a tear from his eye, still smiling hard—he could not remember the last time he smiled enough to make his cheeks hurt—he breathed deeply as he looked again at the glass. One last look wouldn’t hurt.

The smile promptly dropped off his face.

His eyebrows bunched together in confusion as he saw a large lotus blossom on the cracked surface of the glass, and he shivered, knowing that was not there a few seconds beforehand. How did that get there…? His gaze flicked back to himself, then felt ice flow through his previously heated veins when he saw them resting on his shoulders. Quick as all get out, he swiped at his shoulders, brushing them off. However, as he watched those blossoms fall to the ground, he sucked in a breath as he saw petals stuck in the crevasses of his boots and laces. Jolting backward and hopping on one foot, he tried to flick off the petals. Once he had that accomplished, he quickly looked around to make sure he was not going crazy.

He must have been…

…because not there were more lotuses strewn across the field than there had been in the first place.

I shouldn’t be seeing this many! He thought to himself as he frantically walked in a different direction. He had to find Link—the lapdog—no, not the lapdog. I’ve never seen this many before—

—Before? He did not remember seeing these flowers except in ponds. They were so beautiful in the large ponds he had come across in his travels with Cross, but why was he seeing them in the dry, ash-riddled ground?

Can anyone here me?

My son is dead. Why?!

Where’s my body? WherE’S MY BODYYY?!

These voices are suffering so much… He shook his head. When did he start hearing voices of…dead people? Souls? When did he start seeing souls? His chest grew tighter and tighter as he began to run, trying to get away from the souls and the flowers. Why am I seeing and hearing these things?! He did not know where he was going and at this point, he did not care. The adrenaline-laced power that had been coursing through his body earlier had vanished, only to be replaced by stabbing, subzero panic.

More and more lotuses flooded his vision and the screams of the dead became near deafening. He couldn’t breathe. I don’t understand! My chest hurts, my eye hurts, please stop, stOPSTOPSTOPSTOP—

“Make it stop!”

Warmth and light consumed him, and his body felt like it weighed nothing.

He knew no more.

 His body hit the ground rolling, and the air was knocked out his chest. Nausea bubbling inside of him, he had to lean over as he retched. Gagging on the acrid sick that came from his body, he coughed, groaning as he rested his sweaty head on the dirt.

What was that? That couldn’t have been…He had never been capable of…

The sound of someone else being sick made his head shoot up—although he regretted it due to the dizziness from the swift movement—and he saw Kanda in a similar position as himself not a full foot away from him, moaning. The other’s long, raven hair was hiding his face to Allen, but he knew the other was not feeling great in the slightest. Kanda hacked and slowly raised his head, stopping when he locked wide-eyed gazes with Allen. Their noses were inches apart.

Allen could practically read what Kanda was feeling…because it was exactly what he was feeling right now. He knew they were both confused, both a little scared, and a bloody other ton of emotions they had to sift through. They sucked in a shaky, almost heaving breath at the same time, trying to say something, but not sure what to say first.

Should I first as how he is?

…Am I even okay?

Eventually they both rasped out something that neither of them had the answer to just yet.

“What did we do?”

 Published: 5/20/17

 A/N: If you liked this (the story, the headcanons, and Kallen), I have a bunch of Fusion AU stuff on my blog badlydrawnyullen.tumblr.com. You can search #fusion AU and #Kallen or #Kallen answers if you want.  

 A/N 2: Oh, I should also note that Kallen, although using he/him pronouns, is nonbinary.

Chapter Text

“Are you absolutely certain, Inspector Link?’

“Yes sir, I saw it with my own eyes.”

Never in all his time as an Inspector would he have ever imagined himself in this current situation. Here he was, standing tall before his superior giving his report of the mission Kanda, Allen, and himself had just completed. That itself was not the strange part; in fact, that was quite routine. The part that deviated away from normal was the fact that his report included a fusion of all things. He had never thought he would have seen another one with his own eyes. Not after his days with his friends, trying to survive the harsh, cold streets…

Enough of that. You are no longer that cold, hungry child trying to make it through the winter. Despite not seeing them for quite a few years, Link believed his friends were fine.

In all his years of knowing the older man, Link had never seen him this elated before. The higher-ranking Inspector was beside himself, grin spreading across his sharp features as keen eyes read through the printed report.  He gave a delighted laugh as he leaned against the desk, one arm bracing his body on the desk’s top while the other waved the report in hand. “This is the best news we could have received, Link. Think of it; the power, the speed, the agility you reported—it’s unprecedented!”

The blonde man could understand why Leverrier was taken so much by the information. Even he had a difficult time believing the magnitude of raw power that the fusion had—and he had seen it himself, hiding behind the trees. He was aware of the fact that Order harbored and trained powerful people: exorcists were powerful (even without Innocence), the CROW had abilities and strength that far passed that of a normal human being, and even the non-augmented personnel were a force to be reckoned with. But this fusion…this new creation could have been on par with even the generals. The fusion’s speed had been near impossible to track with the naked eye at first, their pure strength had made a shiver run down his spine, and the power of the Innocence that they wielded was masterful, to say the least.

The fusion of Allen Walker and Kanda Yuu was a powerhouse, to no exaggeration.

Link spoke, “I believe this fusion could even surpass a general if the time came, sir.”

“I believe you, Link,” Leverrier said as he flipped to another page. “‘Too fast for even their own control…’,  …‘Was able to survive a blast from a Level Four at point-blank range’…Heh, I’d be so inclined to say that this could even be an understatement. Is it?” The eagle eyes from his superior bore into him, and Link was reminded why this man was used to pry information from people.

But there were no falsities in that report.

“No, sir. All truth.”

Leverrier’s smile turned into another one that Link could not quite place, even after working under him for so long. “Good. Now, tell me. What did the fusion look like?” He leaned forward as he asked his other questions, excited tension clear in his body. “I want to hear this from your mouth, not read it on a report. Was the fusion normal? No unnatural features, no odd behavioral patterns?”

He knew the confusion must have been plain on his face. His brows knitted together. “Unnatural, sir? I’m afraid I don’t understand.” The fusion had odd colored hair, but if he were to really think about it, there were some people here in the Order whose hair could be called the furthest thing from normal. Lenalee Lee, for example, had green hair, while Chef Jerry’s hair was a light purple.  

The other man hummed moved away from the desk. He drew Link’s curiosity when he moved to one of the large windows in the room and waved him over. Link did as he was told, looking out of the window. “Am I supposed to be looking for something outside?”

That prompted a laugh from Leverrier. “No, my boy, not outside the window. Look here,” he said as he pointed to a small, silver web in the crevassed corner of the wood sill.

Turning his attention from the window to the web, he saw a small, black spider crawling along the silk strands, prey in its sights. He watched as it moved closer and closer until it captured the struggling fly. Watching the spider wrap the fly in more sticky strands, he listened to Leverrier speak beside him.

“The fusions of the past were in no way like the fusion in your report. The old fusions were nowhere near as powerful or skilled; they lacked the general coherence that this one displayed.” The spider was deft and skilled. It had no problem capturing its prey; however, he knew that there were always, faster, deadlier spiders in the world. “The old fusions, to speak plainly, were absolute abominations. They had abnormal amounts of eyes like this creature here, monstrous limbs, extra body parts, and even mental instability.”

A pregnant pause. “What…happened to them?” The spider stopped moving, perhaps pleased with its catch.

“They were no longer reliable and could no longer serve their purpose. Eradication was required.” Leverrier’s swift strike startled the younger man out of the reverie he seemed to be under, and he watched as the predatory arachnid was quick to die. “No other people were able to fuse, and the era of fusions ended.”

Link was surprised, yet not at the same time. The fact that previous fusions looked beastly startled him as Kanda and Allen’s had looked quite human. On the other hand, he understood that the Order had to take initiatives to remain strong and cohesive—the early experiments with forced synchronization, for example, was something he learned many years ago. Taking that into consideration, the treatment of the fusions and their abilities was reasonable. He supposed Leverrier was in the right, doing what had to be done for the sake of the Order. Taking a moment to choose his words with care, he turned to his superior. “And this fusion, sir?” Will you eradicate this new fusion as well?

A slight tilt of the head and upturn of the corner of the mouth. “Why Link, you aren’t worried about this fusion, are you?” He sounded almost amused.

Attachment was forbidden, especially as an Inspector and a CROW. An Inspector had to remain impartial to do their best job, and a CROW was loyal only to the Vatican; attachments could lead to loyalties that surpassed the Vatican. Despite that, his imagination worked well into overdrive as it turned up scenarios of Allen and Kanda’s fusion strapped to an experimentation table. Old memories of photos and data results of synchro experiment came to the forefront of his mind, replacing the subjects in the photos with the fusion—emaciated appearance, bruises upon bruises from needles and grafts, sunken and shallow eyes, and more blood than he was comfortable seeing. In his mind’s eye, he could see the fusion’s…Kallen’s long blue-gray hair splayed around them in a halo as they raised a weak, bony, bruised hand for anyone to help them. Their tan skin paled to a frightening degree as their blood leaked onto the floor, and Link could imagine them not lasting much longer, not unlike the…patients in the synchro experiments.

He schooled his face into impartialness. “No sir, not at all.”

Giving the rest of his oral report, he felt an unpleasant twisting in his stomach.

He felt like he’d just made a grave mistake.

They had finished moving everything into the Ark a few hours ago, much to Allen’s relief. There had been a slight unnerving anxiety that prickled under his skin at the thought of taking more time to move all their equipment. To his luck, however, the process had been quick, and now he was on his way to the new headquarters with Johnny, Lenalee, and Komui. Despite getting everything finished that needed to be completed, the undulating motions of the water, the billowing and rolling of the thick clouds, and the light patter of the cool September rain against his skin, nothing distracted him from his thoughts.

All he could think about was his last mission with Kanda and Link. Ghosting gloved fingers over his arm muscles, he could remember just how powerful he had felt. His legs twitched at the memory, and the sheer speed that he had achieved came to mind. He rubbed his hands, trying to get the particular feeling of I-could-crush-anything-and-everything out the appendages. If he closed his eyes, he could reimagine being stronger that anything he could have conceived before, feeling not unlike the powerful Goliath from the Bible. Nevertheless, that was not the most unsettling thing…

He had fused.

He had been part of a fusion.

I fused. I fused with Kanda.

Never in his life had he been able to achieve fusion before, but somehow, he had done so on the battlefield, frightened that Kanda and himself were going to die. From what he could recall from the conversation they had had with Johnny before Link got them, Kanda had never been compatible enough to fuse either, not once in his life. Was it the fear of dying that allowed us to fuse? He did not think it was quite that, as he had feared for his life many a time during his childhood. There were so many powerful feelings that had been coursing through him that it was hard to remember which one had been the most prevalent. He did not think it was just the fear that spurred the fusion. Anxiety? Desperation? Love, perhaps? God, there were so many feelings and emotions from then that he had yet to even manage to sort through.

He could not even begin to describe the feeling of being something…else, something not him. It had been this strange feeling—confusing when they defused—of being both himself and not at the same time. Feeling there and not there, conscious yet not fully in control was something unlike he could have ever imagined.

Exhilarating, disorientating, and frightening all at once and more.

On top of that, there were myriad of questions to which he had no answers. Why had he remembered so much pain, so much agony, like he had gone through torture? He sucked in a shallow breath as the phantom memory haunted his mind. It felt like he had been dying over and over and over again, coming back to life only to be on death’s door again. Allen coughed lightly, rubbing his tight chest as he tried to get the feeling of blood pooling in his lungs to go away. Was that what Kanda had felt before? Were those awful feelings…were they his? He hated to think that his partner had experienced such egregious atrocities—feeling the experience of death and near-death time and time again.

He was aware that Kanda was not the average person as he could regenerate from some of the most gruesome injuries, but…

He ducked his head into the bend of his elbow, coughing politely one more time. I don’t know much about regeneration other than my eye, but I do not think that is what it is supposed to feel like. He remembered, to some vague degree, his body—their body—healing and regenerating from their injuries, but that had felt nothing like…like that. The phantom memory was prevalent in his mind, making him even more aware that a person should not feel that way—should not feel torture in their muscles and death in their bones.

No one.   

That was not the only thing that concerned him either. Looking down at his hands and boots, he could almost see the glowing pink petals and blossoms of the lotuses if he concentrated hard enough. He could watch them slipping between his fingers and getting caught in the laces of his boots. Why had he seen them? Where had they come from? Perhaps it was the stress from fusing for the first time that made him see things. However, the more that he thought about it, the further from the truth that sounded. There had been many times he had been stressed beyond belief in his life, but no occasion had made him hallucinate flowers. Never in his life had he seen those ethereal, glowing flowers before. If not from him, could it have been from Kanda? Are those what Kanda sees every day?

A sigh escaped his lips, misting in the cool rain. He had been avoiding it since the return from their mission, but he needed to talk to Kanda.

“—llen.”

This was too much to work through by himself.

“Allen.”

He had felt too much—

“Allen!”

He startled, turning to whoever yelled his name. To his right, Lenalee and Johnny were looking at him with worried expressions. “Yes?” He responded, dazed.

Lenalee folded her hands in front of her, tilting her head just so. “We noticed you’ve been quiet the whole ride, Allen. You usually add to the conversation a lot. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Johnny added, frowning. “You looked almost out of it and spacey. Nothing’s wrong is it?”

It took Allen a moment to realize that he had indeed spaced-out since they had left the old headquarters. A glance to the scenery only confirmed it. Looking back at his friends, he gave a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, I promise. I was just thinking about some stuff, that’s all.” There was no way that he could tell them what he had felt on his mission. He himself was not quite sure what he had felt, so how could he explain it to them? All he knew was that he needed to talk to Kanda about it.

His fellow exorcist’s frown was almost a pout, causing Allen to give a small laugh. “You know you can talk to us, right? I mean, if you haven’t noticed, you’ve been getting pretty informal with us,” she said with a sly smile on her face.

“Eh?” He blinked, looking at them with wide, surprised eyes. “What do you mean?” Had he been rude as of late? Had he been slipping back into old…habits? His mind went into overdrive, trying to remember all his past encounters with his friends. No, no, I haven’t been acting crass or anything, so what are they talking about?

Johnny laughed, seeing the cogs work in Allen’s head. “You’re thinking too hard, Allen! We just mean that you’re not so keen on being an aloof gentleman anymore. You’ve gotten casual and relaxed, is all.”

“Mhm! That’s not an awful thing at all!” Lenalee’s smile turned into a cheerful grin. “I’m glad you’re getting more open with us, if you ask me.”

They made casual conversation after that, teasing Allen. They ranged from mundane things to their excitement over the new headquarters. Johnny and Lenalee had never seen it before, but Allen had only seen one of the main halls in detail—where he needed to see to put the Ark. He told them that one of the entrances was through a waterfall, and that seemed to spark their enthusiasm even more. He snickered at the thought of one of them falling of the boat and flailing even before they reached the new headquarters, and they joked about him being the one to be pushed off.

Watching them joke and laugh, Allen felt a modicum of unease trickle away, like the drops of condensation on the inner boat windows. Perhaps a small remark won’t hurt. They don’t have to know everything. “There…there is actually something that’s been on my mind,” he admitted, hesitance lacing his words.

Lenalee and Johnny leaned closer to him, concerned. “I knew it,” Lenalee whispered to herself before addressing him. “You were too withdrawn for there not to be something wrong? What happened?”

Could they help? How much should they know? He put his gloved hands in his pockets to hide the need to readjust his gloves. “I…I’ve just been worried. There’s a bit of a problem,” he frowned, not sure how to phrase this. “It’s…Kanda.”

Bless Johnny, but he fretted too much. The scientist nearly toppled over in his surprise as he pitched to the side. His hand jerked out to grab the railing of the boat. “What?! Oh my gosh, what happened?” If not for the fog near swallowing his shout, Allen would not be surprised if everyone in the new headquarters could hear him. “You guys were fine when I saw you before your last mission? Did something happen?” He looked as if he were about to spout more questions at him, but Lenalee was quick to cut him off with her own concern.

“Kanda?!” She spluttered. He scarred face—burn scars from her battle with the Level Three, Eshii, which he knew still bothered her even after healing—morphed from surprise to righteous anger. Allen was aware that the sharp stomp of her foot was not one of frustration but one of warning—she had the deadliest legs of anyone he knew. “Ohhh, if Kanda hurt you, Allen, I’m gonna make sure I kick him so hard, he won’t be able to heal!”

Her likeness to an overprotective cat did not escape him.

The snort that escaped him was one that could not be held back. The mental image of Lenalee punting Kanda to the edge of the horizon was particularly amusing as he knew that Lenalee wasn’t joking and Kanda’s face would be the thing of legends. He removed his hands from his pockets, waving them in front of his two friends as he tried to placate them. “No, no,” he reassured, “Kanda did nothing wrong. It’s just a problem that concerns him that I have to talk to him about.”

The puffed-up, powerful exorcist in front of him deflated, body relaxing in what almost looked to be a slump. “Oh,” she blinked. “Okay good. So, I won’t have to beat him up then.”

Johnny was much more visible in his reassurance, laying a hand on his chest as he sighed. He looked like a relieved, deflated balloon. “Oh, thank God. I thought you two broke up or something?”

“No, no we haven’t,” Allen said. “We’re okay, but I’m just…confused about a few things, is all.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Johnny asked, perplexed.

Allen paused before answering. He said what he had to, and it would be better if he did not keep running his mouth. A rough wave in particular jostled the boat, not unlike the tumult that was going through him. “Just something I have to work out with him. I’m alright, but I can’t tell you anymore.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they took it the wrong way by the way that they looked at each other, upset. Johnny said nothing, but nodded, turning away to look at something inside the cabin of the boat. Allen knew Johnny would try to talk to him later, but the exorcist could not bring himself to go after the scientist and soothe his unease. When he turned his attention back to Lenalee, he was a little nonplussed to see her with a sad smile. Did he make her mad? Was she not upset at him?

He watched as she crossed her arms, still giving him that sad smile. “Oh, Allen,” she breathed, “I know you’re getting there, but I guess you aren’t as open as we thought after all.” With that, she patted him on the shoulder and turned away, going to talk with her brother on the other side of the cabin.

He stood there for minutes after, rain rolling of his coat and soaking the locks of hair that were picking out of his hood. It took him a moment to realize it, but when he did, there was a bitter taste in his mouth. Her smile was not just sadness.

It was pity.

He hated being pitied.

Biting his lip, he went into the cabin as well, partly to get out of the rain and secondly to clear his head. There was a spot in the corner opposite from the others, the little niche made by the jutting cabinet provided a small semblance of privacy. He settled himself there, but did not remove his hood, preferring the second barrier to the others that it provided him. It was small, but it was what he needed right now. He leaned against the window, watching the rain continue to pour and the waves roll. It was cool against his cheek, mimicking the cold, sick feeling that was beginning to churn in his stomach.

The rain was not the only thing that captured his attention. A bitter frown scored his face as he looked at the smiling visage of the Fourteenth in the reflection of the window along with the ethereal, pink lotus petals. A blink, and the petals were gone, leaving the Fourteenth to remain.

His tired eyes dropped from the glass.

…They don’t need to know everything.  

- - - - - - -

Before he knew it, they were at the new headquarters.

The familiar hustle and bustle of people working to get everything in order and settled eased him somewhat. People going to and fro, hauling boxes and crates left and right—it was like the science division in a way. Controlled chaos. He greeted a few people as he and the others that were on the boat entered. Johnny and Lenalee were looking around while Komui departed from them, stating he had things he needed to get done. Allen snorted, knowing all too well that the Supervisor was in no way going to get anything accomplished and instead just wanted some peace to nap. He could not fault him, though, as he understood that the older man was tired from stress, responsibilities, and travel.

As they turned a corner, just avoiding getting run over by a moving cart, they passed one of the large windows in the connecting hallway. The glass allowed them to see the changed weather, the light rain that had been showering them earlier had shifted and morphed into a heavy, torrential downpour. A streak of blinding lightening followed by the almost immediate boom of concussive thunder startled them all, rattling the windows. Allen was not one to flinch at weather, but this individual storm had turned rather nasty. The lighting seemed to be right on top of them while the thunder made his teeth rattle in his mouth.

“Oh gosh!” Lenalee exclaimed, placing a hand over her chest. Giggling, she said, “I didn’t think I would jump like that! But did you hear that? Feel that? It was almost like we were right in the middle of it.”

Continuing to walk down the hallway to the atrium, Johnny agreed. “I know, right? It was a good thing we got here when we did, or we would be in the thick of that mess right now!”

Another left and then a right, and they were finally where they had to be. Well, where Allen knew he had to be; he was not quite sure if Lenalee or Johnny were required to be somewhere. His more optimistic side leaned towards them sticking around for his company and not because they’ve never been here before.

He took a breath, standing where he knew the best spot for the Ark gate would be. “Well,” he looked back at his friends, “time to do what I was brought here to do.” He pressed his fingers to his forehead and closed his eyes for better concentration, as the words of the song and flow of the melody rang through his mind. Gone were the days he needed a physical piano in front of him and song on his lips to be the Musician, gone were the days he needed to mime playing the keys in the air in order to open the Ark, but here was the time he could do so with mental focus and the rhythm in his head. He had practiced and made progress. Now was the time to see if it all paid off.

So the little infant fell into a deep sleep.

Among the grey ashes in the flames shining...

First one, then two ...

The soft lullaby washed over him and he had to control himself not to let the warm words spill past his lips. The power humming inside him, power that connected him to the Ark, wanted to flow in a natural course, and he could practically hear the desiring reminder, ‘You are the Musician. Do not be afraid of your power, let it be free.’ (1) His singing voice was not unpleasant, but he knew from the earlier days of singing to get the Ark to open that the melody often disturbed a few people in the Order. Humming, as it turned out, also made people uncomfortable. He tuned himself with the energy and flow of the Ark, feeling the frequency of its song in his bones, and connected to it. The energy manifested below him in waves, visible rings, climbing above him and fracturing the thin, glass-like visage of space. If he were anyone who did not have a master that could practice magic and had not learned a few things about it from him, this would have completely thrown him for a loop.   

Opening his eyes, he saw the numbered Ark gate come to life and he smiled, pleased. This was getting easier and quicker for him to do. Perhaps in a different life, if fate did not want him to be an exorcist, he thought he could be adept as a magic-user. From the limited understanding he did have of the art, it was fascinating, and as much he hated some—a lot—of his Master’s tendencies and such, he wished he was taught just a bit more alongside his training to be an exorcist.

He shooed the thought away as there was no changing the past. Magic and its abilities were food for thought on a different day.

Not even moments after he opened the gate, he saw a saw a familiar tanned, freckled hand that was wrapped in a red, mid-knuckle glove to grab the edge of the gate. He smiled as he saw the owner pull himself through, jumping of the ledge (could there be an edge if it was just an opening in dimensional space?) and into the atrium. “Hey there, Al,” Lavi gave them his trademark easy grin. “Great to see ya!”

Johnny beamed. “Same to you, Lavi!”

It had been a few days since he had seen his friend, so the smile Allen had on his face grew even larger. “Lavi, I hope you didn’t cause too much trouble over at the old HQ, did you?” To that, the taller exorcist slung his arm over his shoulder, pulling him a bit closer. Allen did not mind as it was the way Lavi was. “I know I wasn’t there too long to keep tabs on you,” he said, looking up at the other with a sly gleam in his eyes.

Lavi leaned back and put a hand over his heart, and Allen could not help but roll his eyes in amusement. Behind him, he heard Lenalee and Johnny laugh. It hasn’t been a full two minutes yet and Lavi is pulling the dramatics. “Woe is me,” the redhead fake-lamented. “To think my good friend is under the impression I need supervision.”

“You’re hell in thigh-high boots, Lavi.”

“Excuse you, I will have you know that my boots reach my knees while the leg-guards are thigh-highs, thank you.” (2)

“So you’re not going to deny that you’re hell incarnate.”

“I neither deny or agree. I am who I am.”

“You’re a menace.”

“Lies and slander, buddy.”

Lenalee let them have their banter exchange before she huffed fondly and walked over to Lavi. As she neared, she laughed as she was pulled into a side hug from their friend. “There’s my Lenalady!” Lavi beamed as he pressed a quick kiss on her forehead.

Allen couldn’t help the heartfelt feeling in his chest as he watched his two friends; they made each other happy, which was a wonderful thing to see. Lenalee twirled a finger around an errant coil of hair that had sprung from under Lavi’s headband. “I see you came just in time, Lavi. Your hair is starting to curl.”

Lavi snorted, flicking the curl that had been around her finger. “Yeah, it’s wet as all hell in the old HQ like you wouldn’t believe. If I had been there much longer, this,” he gestured to his curling mess of red hair, “would have started to frizz up and make me look like a damn dandelion. I was afraid I was gonna have to take the extra time I don’t have to braid it to keep it in check.” It was a well-known fact that their mixed friend was quite vain about his hair and took great lengths to make it look good. While braiding it kept it from getting messy and frizzy, from what he told them, it took much too long than he preferred. Lavi lived a fast life, after all. (3)

Footsteps sounded from the Ark gate, alerting them to Bookman’s presence, and Lavi and Lenalee were quick to step away from one another. Allen knew that Bookman was still unaware of Lavi and Lenalee’s level of closeness, much to his two friends’ relief. Bookman often hounded Lavi about how close and personal he was to his companions, something that stressed out the apprentice more often than not.

The Ark gate shimmered and Bookman stepped out not a second later. His tired, half-lidded eyes surveyed the group. To the point as ever, he gave a brief greeting to them before turning to his apprentice. “Lavi, we have work that needs to be done. Meet me in the Supervisor’s office in ten minutes.” He gave a nod to each of them before departing.

Bookman was not rude, but Allen knew that it was not in the older man’s nature to linger and make idle conversation.

“Ahhh,” Lavi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “he never takes a break, I swear. You’d think he would have waited a few hours after getting here to settle in, but nooo.”

Before he could add to the conversation, he sensed more than heard someone walk towards him. There was a certain feel in the air that surrounded whomever was about to approach him, one that he had felt before. Calculating, reserved, tactical—a presence that felt like it was holding back something. As he turned around, his suspicions were only confirmed. A few feet from him stood three CROWs, stock still in their full regalia and masks.

He swallowed, shoving his gloved hands in the pockets of his jacket to hide the faint twitching. Nothing good followed the presence of CROWs, and the air that followed them always put him on the wrong side of angsty and wary. What could they possibly want? We just arrived here. Looking to his friends, it was prevalent that they, too, were concerned as to why the Vatican’s underlings made the sudden appearance.

He thought back to his last mission and their fusion. Could they have found out? No, no, not possible.

“Can we help you guys with anything?” Lavi asked, expression defaulted to impassive caution. His friend was not a Bookman’s apprentice for nothing, after all—indifference, wariness, and observation came with the job. Lavi, the exorcist-bookman’s apprentice was both owl and wolf, both observant with the owl’s eye and ruthless with the wolf’s drive. “We just got here, and we’d like to rest if that doesn’t bother you.”

The only motion that broke the statue-like positions of the CROWs was the lead one’s arm gesturing to Allen. “Allen Walker has been ordered to come with us. We are required to collect him.” Emotionless, cold, and to the point—the masks did nothing to ease the group of exorcists and scientist.

Allen frowned, trying to think of any reason he would be required to go with the CROWs. “I’ve opened the Ark gate as ordered and I have to help everyone unload. They need me here.” He knew they could have unloaded everything in the Ark without him, but for everyone, it would be best if the CROWs did not have him in their company. They made him feel all sorts of uncomfortable and on-edge.

The group of CROWs took a few steps forward, causing Allen the already pale exorcist to take several unconscious steps back. The lead CROW only repeated, “Allen Walker has been ordered to come with us. We are required to collect him.”

“By who?” came the question from a nervous looking Lenalee. Everyone knew just how distressed the Vatican made her, and the presence of these CROWs were not helping. Lavi put a hand to the small of her back, not taking his eye off the Vatican lackeys.

“Director Leverrier.”

A collective breath was sucked in at the name, and Allen looked to his friends. Lavi was impassive, the only thing betraying his emotion was his narrowed emerald eye; Johnny was worried, hands wringing together as he looked at Allen; and Lenalee was anxious and bothered, looking at him as if he were going to disappear forever. 

The CROWs must have taken their silence for disobedience as they clarified, “If Allen Walker does not comply, we will be forced to use violent action.”

“No!” he snapped. He realized his tone and cleared his throat before saying more calm manner, “No, I mean. That won’t be necessary. I will go with you, just show me where to go.”

The CROWs nodded before surrounding him, forming a group around him. Two moved on either side of him, before putting a hand—heavy with spell-power under their skin, cold with detachment—on his back, while the other walked in front of him. Before he could be led all the way out of the atrium, he turned back to meet his friends’ concerned eyes. Each had been affected in some way by the Vatican, Leverrier, and his CROWs, and their distrust was understandable. Allen could not blame them as he felt the same, not letting his guard down around these CROWs for a millisecond.

“Don’t worry, you all, it’s okay. I’ll be back, I promise,” he plastered what he thought to be a reassuring smile on his face.

The veritable maelstrom outside seemed much less intimidating than what was awaiting him.

He hoped what he said was not going to turn out to be a lie.

Kanda knew from hands-on experience that interaction of any kind with CROWs was not something that a person should have sought out for; especially if being led with a ring of binding spells circling around him. For this reason, he kept his guard up as the group of CROWs escorted him to Komui’s office to speak with Leverrier. He knew better than to act on his less than stellar attitude towards the CROWs, so he kept silent and kept pace. He clenched his teeth. Even as he was being led closer and closer to the office, he kept sliding his eyes to the CROWs, trying to discern any body language that might tell him something useful.

They were like animated dolls—no, no, not dolls. Too deadly for dolls.

Statues. They were moving statues. Cold.

In a few minutes time, they arrived at Komui’s office. The group of three CROWs broke formation, two releasing the binding spell around him while the other moved to stand near the door. The pressure that the spells exerted on him was lifted, allowing his to breathe with more ease, and Kanda huffed in irritation as he rubbed his wrists and arms. The energy from the bindings spells, no matter if they were skin-contacting paper binds or floating seal binds, always left him itchy and tingly. It was similar to the feeling of a limb falling asleep…multiplied by one-hundred fifty.

After rubbing away the discomfort from the binds, he looked at the CROWs, who remained still as corpses, he snorted. “So I take it Leverrier actually wants to see me? Didn’t summon you guys for my execution?” Leverrier’s view on him as a Second Exorcist was very evident to Kanda, the Director seeing him a pseudo-human, an experiment. A thing, a weapon. There were many times where he wondered if and when Leverrier would have him killed, just to stop seeing his face.

“The Director will see you now,” the CROW by the door stated before pushing it open.

The other two walked in and Kanda had no choice but to follow. He noticed that the last CROW remained outside, and he couldn’t help the sneer that crossed his face. “Too chicken to come inside. Afraid of what’ll happen?”

The CROW remained silent and simply shut the door behind Kanda. Figures. The exorcist turned away from the door to face forward, but froze when he saw Allen in the office as well, Timcanpy zipping around him in a panic. Komui and Leverrier were present, but it was Allen’s appearance that made him focus on him. The other was dressed in white from tunic to shoes, washing him out even further than his snowy hair and paler-than-normal face. Kanda noticed the few beads of sweat rolling down his pale face and the prominent movement of his shoulders, as if he were trying to catch his breath. Heaving, almost. Now, the taller exorcist was extensively familiar with CROW magic and spells—crackling energy, stinging magic, oppressive weight, pain, pain, pain—so he barely held in the anger that was heating his blood. The spells that had bound him were minor compared to the amount of magic and energy that was pumping through the ones binding Allen. He fucking hated seeing someone he cared for being led around in spells by those damn CROWs. Alma suffered by them. I’m not letting this happen if I can help it.

His eyes connected with wide mercury, and all he could see was confusion, pain, and wariness. He gave Allen a slight nod as that was all he could do to comfort him in their current situation. Attempting to be as nonchalant and disinterested as possible, he jutted his chin to his partner while looking at Komui, then Leverrier. “I don’t know why I’m here or why the Moyashi is either, but don’t you think all that is overkill? Not like he would hurt you. He’d probably bawl his eyes out for just bumping into you, the idiot.”

Heat lit Allen’s eyes and even through the clamminess, defiance flushed his skin just short of his normal pallor. He sucked his teeth. “B-Bugger off, Bakanda! I don’t cry that much.”

“So you’re not deny you cry then?”

“Go choke on soba.”

Leverrier seemed to have enough of their ‘conversation’ as he waved his hand as a signal to one of the CROWs. Within a second, the talisman seals whooshed away, flying back into the CROW’s sleeve, and the magic crackled into nonexistence. Although there were a number of talismans that remained on Allen’s Innocence arm, he let out a gasp before falling to his knees and catching his breath. Tim fluttered into Allen’s face, nudging his cheek as he tried to comfort him. Good job, Tim. Kanda would give the golem a treat when he had the chance—he comforted Allen when he could not. Still regulating his breath, his partner tilted his head down and away from everyone but Kanda. Through the white bangs that fell in his face, Kanda caught Allen’s expression. It was a wordless thank you, grateful for the intervention and for the degree of normalcy their bantering offered.

Other than their little spat involving Miranda earlier, Kanda had not spoken with Allen since their last mission together. In fact, he had been avoiding it to some degree. Even if he were not avoiding him, what would he even say after something like that? ‘Hey, we turned into another person, let’s do that again?’ He was still mystified about what had happened. He had fused—they had fused, together. To say that it had concerned him would be an understatement. He had never fused—never been able to fuse—before so why had he been able to do so with Allen?

He had thought about it nonstop, going over everything that happened. Every minute, every second, every feeling, and every thought he had had during that mission had been put under scrutiny. Yet, the answer still evaded him. The only clue he had was Allen. Always Allen, Allen, Allen. Despite being the white-haired, cursed, annoying, caring, and thoughtful baka that he was, all Kanda had wanted was for him to live. Live to see another day.

He would have killed anyone if they found out, but dammit to hell, he remembered just how much his heart had hurt loving Allen…how much it ached thinking if he was to die right next to him. He could have cared less about himself—he would have regenerated, he was about ninety percent sure. However, a blast from that distance would have utterly obliterated Allen from existence. That was not something Kanda could have lived with.

What baffled him was that if love and desperation, as cheesy as that sounded, allowed him to be able to fuse and save Allen, why had it not been enough to save Alma? Despite not knowing about fusion during their time in the lab, they should have been able to do it since it was a natural part of life. Had he been too cold, too selfish to fuse with Alma? Would his… ‘emotional constipation’, as Lavi put it, cause him to be unable to fuse again in the future? (4)

Would I be a liability to Allen? If he was the reason for a botched fusion mid-battle, it could cost Allen his life.

And Jesus fucking Christ, that was just the start of it.

Kanda had been around people enough today, and it was starting to wear on him. Rolling the beaded bracelet around his wrist, he was faintly aware of Komui thanking him and Allen for coming on such short notice, other peasantries, so on and so forth.

Strength and power were not foreign things to Kanda as being a Second Exorcist meant he had plenty of both aspects. On the other hand, the thing that had left him speechless was just the raw amount he had felt being part of their fusion, Kallen. God, he felt like he could have taken on twenty Level Fours and more. While the physical strength alone had been something to marvel at, the pure power that had been gushing through his veins from the combination of both Mugen and Crown Clown’s power had left him dizzy and euphoric. There had been—still are—so many emotions that he did not want to sort through: fear, anxiety, joy, love. Being part of that fusion not only made him feel anxious and scared about what he had become, but also whole, happy, and very much loving his new self.

It was confusing on so many levels of hell.

But…the thing that bothered him the most were the unfamiliar feelings, abilities, and visions that were not his. He was aware that Allen’s curse allowed him to see the souls of Akuma—I will never in my life tease him about getting emotional over those monstrosities—yet he had no clue that the cursed exorcist was able to see all souls as well. And the voices, good God, the voices. Every soul, from human to Akuma, crying out in pain, begging and pleading with them to save them and end their suffering…it had all been just too much.

He was not proud to admit it was mainly him that sent Kallen into a bad panic attack and made them sick.

At the current moment, he looked at Allen who was had his attention turned to Komui. Eyes drifting to the red curse scar that bisected his eyebrow and marked his cheek. Kanda could not, for the life of him, understand how the other handled it every day. The stress of experiencing foreign emotions—sadness, pity, and regret for the souls—and the strain of the excessive auditory and visual otherworldly input made him almost nonverbal on their way back home after their mission. It had been difficult to communicate. With his own difficulty processing everything that the curse made him experience, it made him more aware of what Allen went through every day. It made him realize even more what a tough bastard Allen was, making him care for him even more.

Whatever the hell they were about to talk about in this office, Kanda knew for certain that he needed to pull Allen to the side and talk about their mission, their fusion.

“Why are we here?” Allen asked, pulling Kanda’s attention to present. “And why the bloody hell does my Master need to be here? I thought he would have been drunk off his arse at this hour.” As soon as Allen mentioned Cross, Kanda’s body twitched in surprise as he realized that it was not only just himself, Allen, Komui, and Leverrier in the room. So focused was he on Allen, he had not noticed Cross behind them and Lavi and Bookman observing from opposite corners of the room. He chided himself for his lack of situational awareness.

He could understand now to a degree why Bookman always said emotions compromise.

Leverrier smiled at them, and it made Kanda want to throw up. Only after punching him in the face, of course. “As your Master, this meeting concerns him as it pertains to you—well, the both of you, in this case.” Bullshit. If that’s the case, then why isn’t my Master here? Not like he can go outside and paint and shit like that, it’s pouring out there. “And you must be well aware that you are still under investigation by the Vatican. Inspector Link was doing his job in giving me the report of your most recent mission.”

Kanda and Allen’s eyes met in a worried lock of gazes. They had assumed they were alone when after Link left, so they were anxious as to how much the Inspector had seen and reported. Did he see us fuse? If so, did…did he see us fall apart?

“I do have to say that I am impressed, boys,” here Leverrier looked both of them in the eyes, and there was something to that damn smile of his that set Kanda the wrong way. “Congratulations of your mission success and subsequent fusion.”

Oh shit.

From his desk, Komui gasped and looked at the two of them in surprise. Apparently, Leverrier had not informed him of their fusion—the reason, Kanda suspected, why they had been summoned for this meeting. The shock and worry were evident on his face, and Kanda knew the Supervisor well enough to know that he was thinking about the Order’s history with fusion. The older man cared too damn much, but perhaps that was why he was so good at his job—not that Kanda would ever tell that to his face.

Lavi and Bookman kept any and all emotion off their faces, but, like Komui, Kanda had not known Lavi for as long as he did without being able to read a thing or two from him. The aborted step forward and the twitch of his hand exposed Lavi’s desire to know more and interact. Bookman was too seasoned to let subtle body tics betray him. 

The sound of someone spitting out a drink made Kanda turn around to see Cross wiping up the wine around his mouth. The general coughed before setting his glass down on a nearby table, walking towards them. Kanda hid his amusement by clearing his throat while Allen held nothing back and snickered. It was rare to see Cross so flustered, what with him planning and scheming for every kind of situation.

Cross walked around them in a circle, eyeing them like some kind of predatory cat, before stopping in front of Allen. The general leaned forward into Allen’s space while the exorcist leaned back the same amount, wary as to what his master would do. “Hmmm, never thought I would have seen the day, idiot apprentice.” He hummed just before straightening his posture and giving Allen a hard smack on the back, causing him to pitch forward. “Congratulations on not fucking it up. You finally achieved fusion, after failing all these years. About time, idiot! I was starting to wonder if I had a dud of an apprentice.”

“Even if I was, what would that say about you, huh, Master? After all, it is the general’s responsibility the teach their apprentices well. Can’t blame the student for a crap teacher,” Allen snarked back and he picked himself up.

Just as Cross was about to rebuttal, Leverrier was quick to interrupt, moving from his place next to Komui’s desk to stalk around the room in a slow pace. Forget what he had said about Cross walking around them like some kind of cat. Leverrier’s slow, calm gait was much more like a predator than Cross’s stalk

It was patient, hungry.

“To think, such a powerful being was being housed under our roof. I read the report, and let me admit that I was fascinated by what was in there! By God, the power that was stated,” his feet led him in front of Kanda, and it took all the exorcist had not to outright glare, “the speed and agility,” this time he was in front of Allen and Kanda watched as Allen met the Director’s gaze dead on, not a flinch in sight, “are nothing that I’ve heard of before. If I were to hazard a guess, gentleman, I would say that this fusion might on par with a general. Perhaps even more powerful than that.”

As Leverrier continued to speak praises of their fusion, of the pure potential that it held, Kanda could not get rid of the tenseness thrumming throughout his body. An ugly, sick feeling roiled in his stomach, and he looked over to see Allen feeling similar. His partner shrugged, face evident that he was not sure what was about to happen but certain it would not bode well. Getting tired of hearing the Director blow hot air out of his mouth, Kanda spoke, “If you’re so happy with the fusion, why do you need us here? You said it yourself, you read everything in the mission report. On top of that, why the binds on the Moyashi? He doesn’t need to be restrained for a simple debrief.”

There was that predator’s smile again, hungry and deceitful. He stopped and leaned against Komui’s desk. “No need to worry, Kanda Yuu, we do this with all powerful people. Just a precaution.”

Seeing Cross there, a powerful general—a powerful unbound general—proved to everyone that Leverrier was lying through his teeth.

They continued to listen to him bullshit some nonsense about history being made and having the ‘right people knowing this information’—Kanda supposed that was why the Bookmen, Komui, and Cross were present. He gushed about previous fusions being unreliable and weak in comparison to theirs and that the fusion would be a great asset to have in the war. There it is. He just wants another pretty, new addition to his box of toy soldiers.

“Now, fuse.”

The demand took Kanda and Allen by surprise, and they snapped looks at each other before looking at Leverrier. “You…you want us to fuse? Right here? Right now?” Allen blinked, pointing to the two of them.

Leverrier rose an eyebrow, folding his arms behind his back as he gazed at them with a look of impatience. “Is that going to be a problem, Walker?

Allen spluttered, waving his unbound hand in a placating manner. “No, no! We just, uh, aren’t quite sure how. It was a…spur of the moment thing while fighting that Akuma.”

“Surely there’s no need for that right now, Director,” Komui was quick to interject, moving from behind the desk to stand closer to Kanda and Allen. “As they said, they’ve yet to figure it out.”

While one eyebrow was still raised, Leverrier’s other eyebrow dipped down, frown pulling at his lips. “As much as I commend you for looking out for your…subordinates, Supervisor Komui, this demand is not a hard one. If they did it once, they could do so again. Or, is there something that I should know about that none of you are telling me?” His toned leaned towards glacier, promising reprimand if they did not try to fuse.

Komui cared too much for them to be right under Leverrier’s spotlight, so Kanda answered, “We aren’t hiding shit, we just don’t know how to do it.” He gestured to Allen, getting his attention. At the other’s confused look, he nodded, letting him know that this was okay. They were going to have to do this whether they wanted to or not. “Only problem is that we can’t do it with those binds on his arm. They gotta come off.”

“Unnacceptible. As I stated before, they are for precaution.” Precaution, my ass.

“Well, if there’s no unbinding, there’s no fusing.”

A stressful, silent energy hung in the air. It was as if the universe was daring for something bad to happen, for something to go wrong. After another tense moment, Leverrier gave a tired sigh and waved at the CROWs. One of them recited a verse and gestured, making the magic from the binding spell crackle away and the talismans fly back in their sleeve. Even though the worst of the spells had been removed earlier, the banishment of all the CROW magic from Allen had the exorcist almost pass out from relief. Against his better judgement, Kanda darted a step and a half forward to catch him mid-sway before he fell. Leverrier wouldn’t suspect their relationship for helping out a person from falling to the ground…right?

Still in his arms, Allen patted his forearm, and Kanda frowned at the clamminess that still lingered in his appearance. “I guess we better get to it then,” Allen said dryly.

They had both heard from separate accounts that dancing often helped instigate and accelerate the fusion process, Kanda from Tiedoll, Allen from Cross, and then both later on from books. So, the natural course of action was to start there. The only problem was that Kanda did not know how to dance well, while Allen dance just a little too well. The absolute mess that was the two of them attempting this fusion dance was unavoidable.

Maybe I could rip out my own core so I won’t have to do this…

“Y-Yeah.” His cheeks flushed with uncharacteristic embarrassment as Allen took his hand while putting the other on his waist. Kanda had no fucking clue where in the hell to put his own hand, so he had it hovered in the air awkwardly before landing it on Allen’s shoulder. Hard.

“Ow! Dammit, Bakanda, you don’t have to be so heavy-handed!”

He scowled, “Not my fault you have some dainty-ass shoulders.” They weren’t, if he were being honest, but he was embarrassed already and he just wanted to go drown himself in the downpour outside.

Allen led them in a sway, feet forward then back, but it got confusing to the point where they were stepping on each other’s shoes. “Fucking hell, Moyashi, that’s the third time you’ve stepped on my toe!”

His partner gave unique sneer of his own. “I can’t help it if you have no rhythm and two left feet.”

There was some kind of twirl and a dipping motion, but it was more of a violent spin—that Leverrier actually had to swing his legs out of the way from being hit—and a grapple—that Cross had to sidestep to avoid. Somehow, they had launched themselves across the room, still holding hands, and trying their damnest to dance (or stomp the ever-loving hell out of the other’s feet, who knew?).

“—No! Move there not—”

“You’re squishing me!”

“—Was my rib, you—”

“—Only have one right leg, don’t—”

Slam. The sound of Leverrier’s fist slamming against the desk made Kanda and Allen freeze in their place, limbs still entangled around one another. The realization of where they were and who they were in front of came rushing forward, and the two of them split apart faster than Cross chased after women. Crossing his arms against his chest, Kanda coughed and furiously ignored the heat pooling in his cheeks. Next to him, Allen tried to hide his embarrassment in the same manner. They looked to see Leverrier pinching his nose between his gloved thumb and forefinger as if staving off a headache. “Are you two quite finished?” he asked, tone just a hair’s width from a growl.

“…As we said before,” Allen groused, embarrassment and frustration mixing to an unbecoming look upon his pale face, “we don’t know how we fused in the first place, it just happened.”

“Yeah, we could tell you had no clue what you were doing,” came Cross’s unnecessary input. “Good job on another fuck up, idiot apprentice.”

A hum. “I’m sorry? Was that the wind I just heard? There must be a right draft in here.”

“Don’t make yourself look uglier with pettiness.”

“Oh, the breeze got draftier.”

God, these two are a perfect match for each other, Kanda observed as master and student squabbled. I can’t see Allen under another general and I don’t think one other than Cross would be able to handle him. Fuck, I can barely handle him. Allen was either too nice for some generals while just too…too much for others.

A sharp clearing of a throat brought their attention back to Leverrier who was looking much sterner than before. He walked towards Kanda and Allen, and the two exorcists used their better judgment and stood in place rather than step back a few paces. The Director stopped just short of two feet in front of them, pinning them with an unidentifiable look. Kanda’s jaw twitched, Allen’s eyes narrowed. “Your fusion,” Leverrier began with a low tone, “Kallen, will be a powerful asset on the battlefield. Work on being able to fuse in an instant, on command—not the mess you just demonstrated. Your lives will be at stake,” a deliberate pause hung in the air, “by the enemy on the battlefield, I do mean.”

Kanda knew a bold-faced lie when he heard one. That was a direct, intended threat.

Quicker than Kanda could react, Leverrier had the CROWs rebind Allen in their binding spells, talismans clinging to his arm and orbiting around him in a ring with magic crackling around him. A short, strangled half-cry came from him.The force and shock of the spells activating around him sent Allen heaving once again, body hunched forward as he tried to catch his breathe.

“What the actual hell?!” Kanda rushed to steady Allen, all the while glaring outright at the Director in front of him. “Why the fuck does he have to be bound again?”

The look that was sent back at him made him feel like that of an annoyance, a pest that should not be bothering others. That, in particular, was one of Leverrier’s skills. Kanda knew just how the man saw him, a pseudo-human. The tone that he used only furthered that opinion, “You are to leave immediately, Kanda Yuu. What we are about to discuss no longer concerns you. Walker, you will stay.”

The CROWs roughly separated them, guiding a struggling Kanda to the door and keeping Allen in place. “Anything you have to say here, you can say it in front of me,” he shoved against a CROW’s arm and braced himself as he saw the second one make a summoning hand sign. “And the Moyashi doesn’t need to be fucking restrained, you damn—”

“—It’s okay, Kanda.”

The quiet answer from Allen made him pause and focus on him. His partner, bound with CROW magic and sweating, smiled at him in reassurance. Brilliant white teeth peeked from pink lips. “I will catch up to you later. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

Kanda had been so focused on Allen that he did not realize he had been led out of the office until the wooden double doors clicked shut in front of him. He was aware of the CROW that was still keeping guard just to the side, but he paid them no mind, still staring at the office doors in front of him. Even with them shut, he could still hear the minute popping of magical energy and could practically feel the hum. His fingers clenched into a fist as he remembered that smile, all lips and a hint of teeth. There had been no crinkling of those beautiful mercury eyes he loved nor slight scrunch of a nose that creased the few star scars over the bridge.

Allen may have been an excellent poker player, conman, and clown, but he could not fool Kanda.

He hated being lied to.

Published: 7/31/17

A/N 1: Thanks to everyone who kudo'd and bookmarked this fic so far, and thanks to Arya Nimera, BrokenRoses13, and Watwat for commenting the last chapter! Your feedback really means a lot. Everyone, let me know what you think! :D (If you like this fic, I have other fusion AU stuff on my tumblr: badlydrawnyullen.tumblr.com )

A/N 2: To any autistic/on-the-spectrum people reading this fic, does Kanda sound ok? I've never written an autistic character before, so I wanted to make sure I'm not making him offensive or anything like that. Thank you!

Chapter Text

There have not been many times in their history as a Bookman’s Apprentice that they have been genuinely shocked. In fact, they could count the number of times on both hands with fingers to spare. Meticulous research and careful planning erased the opportunity for unexpected situations to encroach upon them; however, that did not mean surprise was an obsolete guest. The age-old saying of ‘expect the unexpected’ was something that the Bookman lived by, but there were just some things they could not foresee.

As they looked on at Allen being hauled away by CROWs after headbutting Timcanpy right into General Cross’s face, now would be one of those times that threw them for a loop. The room was quieter with two rowdy exorcists absent, allowing Lavi to assess in detail what in the hell just happened in the meeting.

Their friend, Allen Walker, was the host of the Fourteenth Noah, the Musician, the exact one everyone had been wondering about.

Allen’s foster father, Mana, had something to do with the Fourteenth—the naked shock on Allen’s devastated face was clear as day in Lavi’s mind, but they shook that away. Concern and worry were emotions to be processed at a later time. Now, they had to focus on what work had to be done.

The reveal of the Fourteenth was not the only thing that took them by surprise, no, no…

Both Allen and their other friend, Kanda, could fuse. Fuse, of all things! The topic of fusion alone was not something that was foreign to Lavi as they have heard about it throughout history. But…there was no way they would have expected fusion to occur between someone they knew. Fusion was common among children, family members, and those quite close to one another—all very expected in civilian populations. During their travels, Lavi had seen little three-eyed children running around happy to be themselves and taller-than-average-adults with a few extra limbs or odd coloring hugging themselves and smiling alone. All commonplace.

Fusion among exorcists was…something that had not happened in a long time. From what they had read in the archives, even when fusion had occurred, the fusions themselves were never stable and more often than not, dangerous and monstrous in form. Lavi remembered staring at the archives in their hands with an emotion that had been quite difficult to categorize. Fusions had been a danger to everyone around them if fused for too long—much too unstable—and eventually people stopped being compatible to even fuse in the first place. Nevertheless, from what the Director reported in the meeting…

What does this mean for Allen and Kanda? They contemplated, walking out of the emptying room. Who will Kallen be?

Lavi, a voice they knew all too well rang in their mind.

Leaning against the wall, they looked over at their Master who was staring at them with his dark-ringed eyes. Never speak of what you heard in this meeting to anyone. Other than the news of the new fusion, which will become public knowledge soon enough, no one needs to know what happened.

Red hair bobbed as they nodded their head slowly, familiar with the secrecy that came with their job though uneasy with the content. Won’t the Director make a public statement about the Fourteenth tomorrow? Is there a purpose for the silence?

Even without the correlating facial twitch, Lavi was aware that Bookman was annoyed. You know not to ask stupid questions, apprentice. You know exactly what I mean.

A sigh swelled in their chest, and Lavi did their best to swallow it back. Knowing did not make the information any easier. Their friends’ fusion and the Fourteenth would be known to everyone soon enough, but the news of the true nature of the Fourteenth’s familial relation and how that connected to Allen and his foster father, Mana…that was deeply personal to their friend. Even further, what Cross said about Allen being destined to become the Fourteenth and having to kill someone he loved…the word ‘troubling’ was something that would not cover it.

Yes, they replied mentally, of course. Using that as a means to leave, they nodded to the old man before pushing off the wall and walking away. They were not sure if they could stay around Bookman at the moment—they felt too…off. Though their steps were even as they were walking down the hall, there was a creeping sourness in them that was making them off-kilter.

Before they had realized it, they had ended up in one of the restrooms in the hall. It was silent; everyone was mostly off doing their respective duties around the Order or asleep. The rain had since let up from earlier, the sound of raindrops lightly falling against the roof and windows surrounded Lavi with a dull drone. They were the only person in here, and they could see theirself walking closer and closer to the sinks in the mirror in front them. It was just them, just Lavi. But, then again….who were they?

Who am I, really? They thought, hands clutching the rim of one of the sinks. They were a Bookman’s apprentice, placed here to record the history of the Holy War; however, they were not supposed to grow attached to the subjects they were meant to record—ink on paper. They were an exorcist, Lavi who wielded Little Hammer-Big Hammer and who was one of the most expressive people in the Order. Their master has repeatedly chastised them about their growing bonds with the people around them. I care too much…

And now, this incident with the new fusion coming to light…It seemed to smack them right across the face. The more they thought about it, the more troubling they continued to feel no matter how hard they tried to file away that emotion. Fusion between two (or more) people was the epitome of a bond and of emotion. It had always been like that since recorded history. It had been obvious to them, as they had read through the science division’s records about previous fusions and fusers, as to why previous attempts at fusion in the Order failed. These past fusions were never stable and were often dangerous, the product of partners that would not compromise and only fused for the mission—no understanding, no true bond. These fusions were doomed to come undone since the start.

Other than what they had observed from familial fusions and those of lovers, Lavi had never expected anyone stable or lasting to come from fusing.

But now…now their two good friends—teammates, they corrected theirself—their two teammates have created someone that had proven to be a contradiction to previous records.

Lavi was well aware of Kanda and Allen’s relationship: how well they worked together despite their arguing and bickering, their romantic relationship…Is that how they were a stable fusion?

They looked at their dark, gloved hands that were gripping the sink rim like a life line and slowly lifted their head to look at theirself in the mirror. A detached emerald eye looked back at them, eyebrows pinched in what could be described as bothered. Could a heartless Bookman’s apprentice even be capable of fusion? They were not attracted to people romantically, so that ruled out the kind of relationship that Allen and Kanda had. In addition, they were not attracted to people sexually either, so that eliminated another type of relationship entirely. They cared for Lenalee with a fervor they had never experienced before, but they had both agreed that whatever the hell they had between them was neither romantic nor sexual. An oddity (1).

With the nature of fusion being brought to the forefront of their thoughts, they looked back at what Lenalee meant to them. Could…could it be possible for someone like them to ever fuse with another person? (With Lenalee? Their mind supplied.)

The view of a struggling Bookman’s apprentice was shut away as they slammed their eyes shut and shook their head. They were an accomplished historian for a reason—they had to think as such, think logically. No need for foolish thoughts. Even if there was the slim percentage that they could be capable of fusing with another person, there was a high probability of them corrupting the other person and their shared fusion.

After all, how can someone bond with Lavi if there was no heart to bond to?

The pale, white-haired figure walking out of the briefing roomed moved as if being pulled on strings. Moving like a marionette, he walked further down the hallway, step by slow step, unaware of where his own body was taking him. Sluggishness plagued him now, and it was as if all his previous energy, understanding, and security in his own self was melting and dripping off of him, leaving a viscous shadow of confusion trailing behind him.

What the hell…did all that mean? How is this happening?

The change from the dim lamp-light of the hallway to the much brighter one of the open room to his right captured his attention. Before he knew it, his feet had moved to enter the room, and he smiled at what he saw. Lenalee and Johnny were leaning against one another on the sofa, fast asleep. Lenalee’s hair was a little out of place, loose strands having slipped and fallen in her face, and Johnny’s glasses had slid a little from his face, askew as they rested on the bridge of his nose.

A warm feeling bloomed in his chest. His friends had been so worried for him that they had waited here. They cared.

Well, what kind of friend would he be if he just left them here without at least doing one gesture of kindness? The rain had lightened from the downpour it had been before, but he knew that the temperature would get even colder with the progression of the night. With that, he grabbed a soft blanket that had been thrown on the arm of the sofa and gently placed it over them as not to wake them up.

If they woke up they would ask him questions without a doubt.

…Questions he did not think he had all the answers to.

As he turned to leave the room, he glanced at them once more over his shoulder and felt the smile that had graced his face die. He knew they had been worried about him, what with the sudden and ominous arrival of the CROWs to escort him. But, as he mulled about it in his head, did they truly care about him?

After all, the love and affection from the one person that had first given a damn about him—the one person that had meant the absolute most to him—was now in question.

Did Mana ever love him? Or, was it his damn brother, Neah, that was lurking inside of Allen? Cross’s answer was not clear, which was typical of his Master, but this was something that he wanted, no needed, to be sure of. He felt his chest clench and his pace grow quicker as his own thoughts worked against him. Did Mana even see me for me, or did he only see his brother? He knew Mana had been…spacey, to put it graciously, but he had always made sure Allen was okay and always responded to Allen when he needed him. Was it the dog? He named me after the dog, but he never treated me like one. No, no, no, no, I couldn’t have been the dog to him, he treated me like a normal, rude child with anger issues. Ice bleed into his veins and seized his lungs. But what if the kid he was seeing wasn’t me…?!

He had a terribly sudden urge to play or at least hum the lullaby he had been taught to ease some of this damn anxiety that was making him sick. He could feel the allure of the Ark calling out to him, its power swirling around him just in reach, ‘The Musician is upset. Play me, play me.’ As enticing as that power was—warm and sweet and comforting—he refused to play, rejecting the lullaby. It was not the same anymore. God, why did Mana teach me that song? What did he want?

Memories of Mana came rushing back to him, but he could not help but question them all.

He remembered the circus, where Mana had taught him how to curb his aggression and channel it through different things like his chores. It had been where he was taught to perform alongside the older man, their clown duo routine being one of the favorites of the crowd. “Such a crowd pleaser! You know I’m quieter than you—you balance me out, little man. Almost like my other half, haha!”

He recalled when he had gotten sick, contracted a nasty case of influenza. “I don’t think I could function without you,” Mana had smiled and laughed, pressing a cold rag to Allen’s fevered skin.

He reminisced about spending his free time goofing around and climbing trees. “So spunky for such a little thing!” Mana had called out from his place at the bottom of the tall tree. “You remind me of someone I knew…”

Was it all real? Was it all true? Or was it all Neah, Neah, Neah? Allen was so bloody sick of—

“Shit!” He came out of his almost fevered, frantic daze when a corner of the carpet caught his boot, tripping him and almost sending his head smashing through a window. He thanked his quick reflexes as his gloved hands shot forth against the wall and steadied him. A grin tugged at his mouth, relieved that he was not currently picking bloodied glass shards from his hair, but it soon morphed into scowl at what the saw in said window. In his reflection, he saw the smiling visage of the Fourteenth—of Neah—looking back at him.

An ugly, black smear of anger welled up in him, and he had to clench his own hand from smashing through the glass. It was all the Fourteenth’s fault; every little thing was his fault. On top of that, his stupid Master was not innocent either, making him feel like this. “You will inevitably kill someone that you care for,” flashes of his friends whizzed through his mind’s eye, “someone that you love,” until landing on Kanda.

Allen swore underneath his breath, whipping his face away from the window. Shoving himself off the wall, he started to make his way towards his room. All he wanted to do was just escape to his room, just for a few hours. He was nearly sick with anxiousness, trapped in its claws and ready to be swallowed whole. It did not help that he already made two wrong turns—this building was just as complex as the old HQ—on his way back, aggravating him further.

He did not want to deal with memories of Mana or the new revelations about the Fourteenth.

He did not want to deal with what Cross, his bullshit, and what he had said about what Allen was going to do.

He did not want to deal with fusion.

Fusion…Kanda…

“You will inevitably kill someone that you care for, someone that you love.”

He really did love Kanda, didn’t he? Allen, a person who had never been able to fuse with another human being, never cared about anyone enough to do so (Mana was different), was able to merge with Kanda in one being. Before, when he had thought about their fusion, all he could remember feeling other than pain was pure power, a combined, raw potential that had hummed in their body. It had been invigorating and frightening all at once. But, now, as he looked back, he remembered the euphoric feeling of something equally as strong: devotion and love.

Fuck his Master and what he said. Allen and Kanda had ever only told each other once, but that once cemented it all. I love him. I will never kill Kanda, ever.

Despite his vow, his own mind seemed to rage against him, make him doubt himself. It was like hearing his own voice, turned disgusting as oil, say to him, “But what if Kanda doesn’t truly love you, like Mana?”

No, no, he could not think like that. Allen was aware that Kanda was not one to say something without meaning it. He did not outright lie. Besides, Kallen was just one physical proof how much he and Kanda loved one another. The only problem was that they had not discussed what the bloody hell they were going to do about their fusion situation. Christ, there were just do many consequences to what—who—they had created.

A few pink lotus petals flashed in front of his eye but disappeared just a blink later.

“Allen.” A familiar voice brought him to awareness. Speak of the Devil, and the Devil shall appear.

He remembered the phantom feelings of bone-deep pain he had experienced before. “Kanda…”

Arms crossed across his chest, there was Kanda leaning against the wall to the side of Allen’s bedroom door. His expression was pinched, eyebrows furrowed deeper than his resting scowl normally allowed. In addition, from the distance Allen was standing away from him, he could see the other furiously spinning one of the red beads on the bracelet that rested on his wrist. Suddenly, they made eye contact with one another and Kanda jerked his head to gesture at the door. Even without verbally saying, the message was clear.

‘We need to talk.’

Kanda thought God had a particular vendetta against him.

He had been forced out of the meeting room, subsequently leaving Allen in there by himself with all those damn CROWs and Leverrier. “It’s okay, Kanda,” the Moyashi had said. “I’ll be fine,” he had told him. No matter how many times his partner had affixed that quick reassuring smile on his face, Kanda was not fooled. He knew the truth.

Allen was a fucking liar.

Ignoring the CROW that was still standing guard at the door, erect and unmoving like a stone statue, Kanda growled under his breath as he stormed off. The image of the man in all white being bound by binding spells, sweating and panting, made Kanda want to stab something. Several times. This feeling was only exacerbated by that fact that he, a skilled exorcist who could take pain and double it back on someone (or something), was useless to use his strength to help one of the few people that he actually gave a damn about. You better keep your word, Moyashi, or I’m going to punch you for lying to my face.

With all that was going on, he felt much too restless for his own comfort, not wanting to return to his own room. His nerves were tightened like wires running on overdrive, but any energy he previously possessed was gone, especially after the meeting with Leverrier. Irritation laced every fiber of his being, and he spun a few of the beads of his bracelet to see if it would help. It barely did.

God, he felt like a drained battery. (2)

If he went back to his own room, he was going to have to wait even longer to see Allen after he got out of that death trap they called an interrogation. Plus, the other’s room was closer to his current location, so he allowed his feet to take him to Allen’s room. When he got there, he sagged against the wall, comfortable in the fact he did not have to keep face with no one around. The majority of the Order was on the lower levels, still unpacking and rearranging, while the other exorcists were probably in their new rooms, getting accustomed to the new place. In fact, he knew that neither Allen nor himself had gotten the chance to even bring their things to their new rooms. He had no idea what his room looked like…

He sucked his teeth. There were times he wondered what the fuck was his life even, and now was one of those moments.

For a brief moment, he heard phantom, whispering voices in his head and saw the world shift into a monochromatic black and white. There were no Akuma present, but the trace feeling of combined desperation, bloodlust, anger, and sadness that accompanied the monstrous machines seized him unexpectedly.  A startled blink later and gasp later, and the voices and feelings were gone. His vision had returned to normal.

A feeling not unlike nausea made his stomach churn because this was not the first time that had happened before. He knew where he’d heard experienced all that before.

Kallen.

Everything came back to what—who—they had created. Leverrier’s threat loomed in his mind like a predator awaiting just one slip-up. Fuse, or their lives would be at stake. It was at a time like this where Kanda whished he was just as emotionally constipated as Lavi often told him he was. Then, he would not have the right connections with Allen to be in this mess in the first place.

No, he couldn’t think like that. He just had to stop thinking period because his brain was screwing him over right now. I can’t do anything to help him right now, it pained him to admit, so I’m just going to have to keep waiting. With that in mind, he took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to get rid of all the disgusting emotions that were plaguing him. (3)

Inhale, then exhale for double the count.

Untense the muscles.

Clear the mind.

Unorthodox it might have been, he was going to meditate while standing. It wouldn’t be the best, most effective meditation session he’d ever done, but he needed to clear his head.

He pushed away all noises and feelings that could have possibly distracted him and focused on his breathing, focused on the beat and sound of his core-heart. He started to feel the anxiousness and ill-ease bleed from him and he took another deep breath, closing his eyes…

Inhale.

Exhale for double.

Inhale.

Exhale for double…

Even through the disconnected state of focus he had put himself in, he had a loose sense that a disconcerting amount of time had passed. He opened his eyes. That meeting shouldn’t be this long, he groused to himself, both irritation and worry rearing their heads to bite at him again. He put away the thought of what the CROWs and Leverrier could be doing (to Allen), and instead focused on what he and his partner were going to have to talk about. As much as he hated ‘feelsy’ conversations, they couldn’t ignore what happened. Not after the gauntlet that the Director had thrown at their feet.

Footsteps sounded suddenly in the hallway, and Kanda snapped his head to see whose it was.

Oh God, this was going to be a mess. He spun his bracelet. “Allen,” he called out lowly, not having the energy to raise his voice. He took a second to observe the state that his partner was in. Sweat clung to his pale face near his temples, and the tension in his brows and jaw were evident even to Kanda. He saw his gloved hands clenched into fists, and he could only wonder just what the fuck happened while he was gone.

It seemed like it took a moment for the other to register him because there was a definite lag between Kanda saying his name and Allen making eye contact with him. He breathed sharply, “Kanda.”

Allen’s voice was like the spark that got him going. Kanda, jerked his head to the door, making is intention clear. They were going to get this over with.

Allen nodded, walking towards the room. However, he paused briefly before opening the door. “Wait a minute, though,” he mused, waiting for Kanda to enter before he closed the door and flicked on the light (thank god this place was equipped with electrical lighting instead of lanterns), “why were you waiting out here? I would have thought you would have gone to your own room.”

As Kanda looked around the new space, he shrugged, loosely gesturing to the door then to himself then to the door. Taking in the room, he noticed it was spartan: the bed, bedside table, incredibly small two-drawer dresser for clothes, and the table and chair fit for one seemed typical. Thankfully, the bed was already equipped with bedding and a pillow, though from the pristine looks of them, they looked to be hospital-standard. If he were to smell them, the scent of antiseptic would burn his nose here just as it would in the medical ward.  What surprised him the most were the travelling trunk and few boxes on the floor pushed against one of the walls. He figured that one of their friends probably brought them up for Allen while he was…occupied.    

He rested Mugen against the wall before situating himself in the single, uncomfortable wooden chair—God, his ass was going to go numb in no time. He looked at Allen silently. 

The Moyashi seemed to understand him because he snapped his fingers and opened one of his boxes. It took him less than a minute to pull out a small notepad and pencil. He placed them on the table in front of Kanda before depositing himself on the bed. If anyone were to ask, he would deny that warm feeling in heart; the other knew that he didn’t have the energy to communicate like normal. “Too much to handle today?” he gave a weak smile. “My room was closer, am I right?”

He nodded yes to both questions. Any longer answers that required more than a positive nod and a negative headshake would require them being written down.

Allen let out a heavy sigh, exhaustion clear as he pulled in a knee to use as a rest for his chin. “Oh Kanda, what the hell have we gotten ourselves into?”

In response, he made it a point to let out the most irritated breath he could while running his head through his bangs. After, he pointed to himself and then Allen before sandwiching his hands against one another. How ironic, he observed sardonically. It looks like I’m praying, but I’m the furthest thing from religious.

“Yeah, we do need to talk about us, about…about what we did.” Allen leaned forward, lowering his voice as what he was about to say was a secret. If he felt anyway that Kanda was feeling, it would not be that far from the truth. “Kanda, I…I’ve been feeling things ever since we defused, and I know those feelings, the pain,” Wait, pain? “the images could have never come from me. And that bothers me.”

So, Kanda had not been the only one to be seeing and hearing weird shit post-fusion. Fuck, if he was inadvertently hurting Allen as some kind of weird bullshit side effect, then he wanted to know. He turned his hand in a rolling motion, signaling to Allen to continue.

Looking away, his voice dropped to something just shy of a whisper, “Pain like I’ve never experienced before—it felt like I was dying, over and over again,” Kanda’s eyes widened and ice bled through his body, “and, and I keep seeing things that make no sense: flowers appearing everywhere, petals flashing in my vision only to be gone a moment later. Never in my life have I gone through anything like this, so I have to ask:

Is this all from you?”

Damn, damn, damn. He couldn’t tell him about the Second Exorcist project, and he wasn’t in the habit of lying. Nonetheless, he couldn’t just withhold an answer from him, either.

He grabbed the notepad and pencil, slowly writing down his thoughts with hesitation weighing down his hand. He was also acutely aware that he did not have the best handwriting, so he hoped it was legible at the very least. After he was done, he sighed and handed the notepad back to Allen.

Allen held on to Kanda’s gaze before dropping his eyes to the notepad that was in hand. “‘I hate to say that all that shit is from me,’” he broke of with a slightly alarmed look at Kanda who rolled his hands in the motion for him to keep going, “‘and it sucks that you’re going through this. You know I’m not a liar, so I’m not going to go and tell you something that isn’t true. I can’t say anything else.’” From the frown on his face, it was clear that the answer was not the one that he wanted. He was going to have to deal with it because there was no way he was going to tell him about everything that happened in the labs, no way. Allen continued, “Can’t or won’t, Kanda?”

He looked away stubbornly as he scowled, holding up two fingers.

“Both?”

He nodded, and there was a following silence in the room that made his skin itch. After what felt like forever, the Moyashi conceded—surprising, as Kanda had expected an argument—and heaved an irritated sigh. “Never thought I’d see the day where the one and only Bakanda would be opaque like this.” If it were coming from anyone other than the Moyashi, he would have been offended. “But, I suppose that will have to do…”

The other seemed liked he wanted to say more, so Kanda raised an eyebrow and tilted his chin in response. Thankfully—and Kanda would keep this to himself forever so that his partner wouldn’t get a swollen head—Allen was good at reading faces, so he understood what Kanda wanted to say. He handed the notepad back to Kanda, but before letting go, he left his gloved hand lingering over Kanda’s slightly larger one. He squeezed gently, and Kanda could only watch the way the white fabric of the cloth crinkled around the knuckles, tight and uncomfortable-looking. Tense. “Just…” his silver eyes darted away before returning to his own with a strong light behind them, “just be careful, okay? I know I only felt a fraction of whatever the bleeding hell you’ve gone through, so I can only imagine what you have to deal with. You said you’re not a liar, and I know you’re not, so…will you be careful? For me?”

The next beat of Kanda’s heart was particularly hard; it was not often he felt like this. The warm hand that was clutching his; the bright eyes that caught him off guard with their naked concern; the genuine tenderness that radiated out from Allen and enveloped Kanda like a warm bath—they all struck him, pinning him in place. For a moment, his cheeks were hot, and his breath caught in his chest.

The next moment, he jerked his hand away and looked anywhere but Allen.

From the tittering laugh that came from the man in front of him, he knew that Allen wasn’t offended. But, to answer his question, he nodded his head to make sure the other knew he wouldn’t just go and fling himself recklessly into battle or some shit.  Then, just because he could, he turned back to Allen and flicked him on the forehead to get him to stop laughing.

It did not work.

Just as he was about to grab a pillow that was on the bed to smother the Moyashi with, the snickering male held up his hands in a placating manner, saying, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at you.” At Kanda’s scowl, he smiled. Kanda was torn between leaving and smacking that grin off his face. By some divine grace, that stupid grin softened to something softer, less tempting to take a swipe at. “That expression that was on your face—I haven’t seen you like before. It was,” he took a breath, “nice.”

Kanda willed his face not to break out in another blush. God dammit, the Moyashi was, dare he say, cute.

The question that was asked next was what broke the easy atmosphere between them. “As much as I don’t want to be reminded of what we have to do, it’s my turn to ask: do you have anything that you wanted to know?”

Of course there were things he wanted to know! It was such a loaded question, and his brain reviewed everything that had happened since their defusion. Because he wanted to get them on to paper before he could change his mind, he scribbled them on the notepad with a jarring fervor. While he only had five questions, they were some of the most prominent that had been plaguing his mind:

• What happened during the meeting, and are you okay?
•  
• Does the seeing things and black in white come from you?
•  
• Is that the same for the voices?
•  
• Whose voices are those?
•  
• Is that what Akuma really look like?

The question of ‘If so, then how the fucking hell are you dealing with all this shit?’ was left unsaid. He remembered the bombardment of the voices and the visions being so insurmountably disorienting that it had been one of prime reasons to shake their stability, leading to their defusion.

Plus, all of that had given him a migraine like he had only experienced before in the labs.  

When he was done, he practically shoved the notepad into Allen’s chest and glared at him to hurry up and read it. Now, Kanda was aware that he was sometimes shit at reading people’s faces—in fact, he had been told so (in more polite words) by his Master and Noise. Nonetheless, as Allen read what he had written, Kanda could tell from the slight widening of his eyes and the twitch of his jaw that he was both uncomfortable and perhaps anxious. He could not help but notice the crinkling of the paper as Allen’s hands tightened around them.

With the notepad in his lap, which had been set down not unlike one would handle a bomb, Allen drummed his fingers against the paper. Despite the almost desperate need for answers, Kanda understood that it would not be wise to rush this. Reluctance, as Allen began to speak, was evident in his voice to a painful degree, “I…The word ‘okay’ is somewhat relative at this point,” he said as his mouth twitched into something unpleasant that made Kanda’s stomach turn. “But, to answer your question, as of right now, yes, I am okay.”

His appearance had improved from earlier, but Kanda was still keeping a careful eye on him. The Second was familiar with the side effects of CROW magic in particular, so he knew just how much of a toll that could take on the body. Allen continued, glancing away in…shame? What did they do to you to make you act like this? The Moyashi was the least shameful person he had ever know, so to see him in this kind of state made Kanda want to punch something. Specifically Leverrier. “As for the meeting, I am afraid I can’t tell you as per orders of Director Arsehole. You,” he swallowed, “well, you will find out tomorrow with everyone else.”

Fuck Leverrier and all his damn CROWs for all of this bullshit.

“I’m sorry to be so vague,” he offered, clearly not happy about it himself, “but I can assure you that your other questions are much easier to answer.”

Kanda felt his face morph into something of pure skepticism, conveying a clear ‘Oh, are they?’

A huff of amusement fell from the other’s lips as he shifted to a more comfortable position. The tense lines of his shoulders and hands eased into something less troubled. “Yes, don’t worry your pretty little head, Bakanda. Now, seeing things in black and white stems from my curse. The Akuma are in color, as I’m sure you noticed. The voices—they come from me. I’m not fond of telling many people, but thanks to my curse,” he tapped a finger to the red pentacle scar on his forehead, “I can not only see Akuma souls, but I can hear them as well. Same goes for normal souls, too.”

Kanda made it a point to wave a sharp gesture at Allen’s person. He wished to convey without the notepad, how are you still sane?  While Kanda only saw otherworldly lotuses, he was not sure if he would be able to take hearing voices and seeing souls day in and day out.

“I’m used to it, so don’t worry. And, to answer your final question, yes, those are what Akuma look like. However, only the Level Fours look that…” a grimace pulled at Allen’s face as he coughed into his hand, “vile.”

You damn right they were, Kanda nodded as he sighed again, contemplating on how in the hell was this their lives. A wave of tiredness passed over him—and Allen, from the looks of it—and he was reminded on just how long of it day it had been.

There was a silence that passed between them, though not one of discomfort. They had shared something between them that no other two people could combine to make, Kallen. Kanda looked at the male in front of him—still slightly sweaty face, disheveled hair, tired and sleep-deprived eyes, and slumped figure—and realized that this was the person he fused with. Never in his life had he ever been able to do it, not with anyone except this exhausted Moyashi. And, as much as he wanted to rest himself, Kanda knew that he could not leave him in this sort of state.

The baka Moyashi might be able to fool everyone else, but Kanda could spot his bullshit a mile away. Allen might have thought he was okay, but just from looking at him, Kanda could tell he was one good shove from keeling over from exhaustion.

With a ‘gimme’ motion, Kanda got the notepad back from Allen and scribbled down what he wanted to say before he changed his mind. After, he stood up from the wooden chair and walked right in front of his pale partner and gave him the notepad.

Curious as to why he had gotten up, Allen looked at Kanda before reading the notepad. ‘Do you want me to stay the night?’ it read. A surprised blink later and Allen shot up from the bed, waving his hands in front of him. “You shouldn’t! I mean, y-you don’t have to, Kanda! I’m sure you are very tired and would much rather being in your own—”

He cut Allen off with a slicing motion to his throat, telling him to shut up. Kanda caught the waving hand that was holding the notepad in his own hand, making it a point to keep it still. Slowly, he pried the fingers open one by one—ignoring the uncharacteristic stammering coming from Allen—and took the notepad. He wrote down what he wanted to say, underlining two words in particular before handing it back.

• I asked if you wanted me to stay here, not if I should.

Allen laughed derisively, “Ahhh, I guess you know me better than most, Bakanda.”

Another written answer: ‘I told you before that your bullshit doesn’t work on me. I’m going to get a change of clothes and I’ll be back. You look like shit warmed over and I’m staying here.’

“…Well aren’t you just a romantic, then?” Allen took his hand back and crossed his arms, giving Kanda an amused smile. Kanda was rewarded with an actual laugh when he flipped him off on his way out the door.  He’d much rather hear that than the fake, canned reactions the baka practiced in order to make others feel better.

It took him a few minutes to find his room, bare like Allen’s, only containing the essentials. The only reason he found it on this unfamiliar floor was that he had spotted his boxed possessions through one of the open doors. He guessed he would have to mumble some thanks to whoever brought them up for him at a later time. Right now, his metaphorical internal battery was way too drained to deal with more than one person. After shutting the door and rifling through his wardrobe chest, he found some comfortable pants, a loose shirt, and his cream-colored sweater that he had a fondness for, loose threads and all. He got changed and shoved all of the extra things he didn’t need to one side with the promise in mind that he would unpack everything tomorrow.

He left his room, hands in pockets to guard against the slight chill that lingered like a phantom. He did have to notice that this new HQ was much more comfortable than their old one was, the painted walls and carpeted floors of the residential halls much more inviting and warm.

When he returned to Allen’s room, he knocked, door having been shut after he had left. As Allen let him in, he noticed that the Moyashi had changed while Kanda had left. Slightly mussed hair, black sweat pants, and sleeveless grey sleep shirt combined to be the exact definition of sleepiness.

“Well,” Allen said, the pink on his cheeks very clear against his pale skin, “let’s tuck in for the night. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

Kanda idly rubbed his own cheek as he stared at the bed. What had been something of nonimportance when they had first entered the room, uninviting similar to a hospital bed, now morphed into a daunting obstacle. You’re going to be in the same bed as you boyfriend, it seemed to taunt.

I said I was going to stay the night so I’m going to stay the night, dammit.

It was awkward considering neither of them was used to sharing a bed, let alone with their significant other. Kanda was used to sleeping by himself, well away from other people, and he was fairly certain that the Moyashi was used to sleeping alone as well. It took them a while to find a comfortable arrangement, the Moyashi’s elbows were too damn bony and Kanda accidently kneed him in the side. A few choice words and wordless grunts later, they found a decent medium where they were both on their side, Allen’s back to Kanda’s chest. It was quiet for a few minutes but there was a particularly annoying tension in the air that Kanda didn’t know what to do with. Thankfully, the universe took pity on them because, thanks to the baka, the silence was broken.

“…You know, I never thought we would be sleeping together this early in our relationship, Bakanda,” came the lewd remark.

A swift smack on the arm followed suit, and Allen snickered. Neither of them had interest in sexual relations, something that had been established in the beginning (4).

The room was silent other than their breathing, slowing down to a softer rhythm, drowsier as the minutes passed. It was odd to be situated the way they were, crammed chest to back in Allen’s bed that was glaringly meant for one person, but there was something comforting about the warmth of his partner next to him. He was coherent enough that he was able to hear the other murmur something just as the first beginnings of slumber blanketed over him.

“Thank you…for not leaving me.”

Kanda hummed and rubbed his thumb over a star scar on Allen’s bare shoulder before sleep claimed them both.  

For the first time ever since he could remember, Kanda slept the entire night.

Published: 5/4/18

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