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Chapter Text

Lenalee saw black hair whip around a corner and hurried to catch up.

"Kanda!" She said, then yelled, from right beside him.

He begrudgingly glanced at her. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" he said. Expression as dead and neutral as always.

"Because of what happened," she said, panting a little as he sped up and she had to jog. He'd had a growth spurt and his legs were too long for her now. Unfair.

"On the mission," she said, and his fists tightened. "Everything…I just thought it might bring up old memories. Are you okay?"

Kanda turned suddenly and pushed open a door, Lenalee nearly crashing into the frame as she hastily followed.

They were in one of the training rooms, Kanda's favorite, where no one else came and he could meditate without interruption.

She might've felt guilty, but this was Kanda, and he didn't take care of himself unless forced to. She stood her ground.

He sat and looked up at her. Actually met her eyes, and she was surprised that his expression wasn't just the closed-off anger of usual.

"I can remember without being hurt," he told her calmly. "I'm getting better."

Lenalee was so surprised she flumped down on the floor beside him.

"How?" she asked. "I can't—I don't even know how…"

"Perspective," he said. "It happened; you can't change it; you just have to accept. It'll always be sad and that's just life. Once you stop avoiding your memories, remembering isn't as painful."

"That sounds too simple," she said. "And trite."

Kanda snorted, the closest he'd come to a laugh in weeks.

"Plus if anyone's going to be trite, it'll be Lavi," she continued.

He broke into a crooked smile.

"Are you done bothering me?"

She stuck up her nose. "Yes. Enjoy your solitude."

"I shall," he snorted.

"Whatcha doing?" Lavi asked cheerfully, coming up behind Allen in the cafeteria.

"Hello, Lavi. I'm not doing anything."

Lavi put his head on Allen's shoulder and followed his gaze.

"Oo, pretty hair," Lavi cooed, before Allen could shoo him off with an irked glance. "Aw, you have a crush."

"I do not," Allen snarled, and took his plates from Jerry with a vicious tug.

Getting his food, Lavi followed quickly behind him, shoving Allen at the table where Kanda sat so that Allen tumbled down onto the bench. Across the table, Kanda glared at each of them in turn before focusing all his attention on his noodles.

"You have a crush," Lavi continued, singsong, poking Allen in a ticklish spot before Allen could attempt the violence his eyes promised. "Yuu, listen to this: Allen liiiiikes someone. Bet you can't guess…"

"Shut up," Allen said, pushing Lavi off.

"Like I care about your love life," Kanda grunted, standing and collecting his dishes. "Moyashi."

"It's Allen!"

"And don't," Kanda said to Lavi, ignoring him, "call me Yuu. I'm in a bad mood."

He touched his sword meaningfully before stalking off.

"Why are you such an idiot, Lavi?" Allen burst out in a hiss.

"What? You don't want your beautiful long-haired comrade to notice you?" Lavi teased.

To his surprise, Allen leveled him with a cold look that Lavi had rarely seen him give akuma, let alone other people.

"Wait, wait," Lavi stuttered, "you actually have a crush—?"

"I said," Allen bit out, "to shut up."

Scooting a distance down the bench, Allen began to eat. Lavi stared.

"Everyone left you again?" came Lenalee's voice, making Lavi whip around. She took Kanda's vacated seat across from Lavi. "Another practical joke?"

"I think Allen likes Kanda," Lavi whispered in wonder.

Lenalee straightened.

"What?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"He—you should've seen him. He got so defensive."

"Allen? I thought you were going to say Kanda liked him."

It was Lavi's turn to gape.

"Well, it's not like Kanda tolerates anyone else's existence," Lenalee defended.

"And he tolerates Allen's?"

"Kanda taunts him. Normally Kanda insults people so they won't follow him, and then leaves. But he prods Allen into coming after him."

"I think that's just their competitive natures coming out."

"Maybe," she shrugged and took a bite. "Maybe not."

At the other end of the table, Allen stood up. Half his plates were still full, but he took them and deposited them by the kitchen before trudging out—through the opposite door from where Kanda had gone.

"Shit, it's gotta be a crush," Lavi said. "Allen doesn't give up food for anything."

"Kanda, Lenalee will bring the townsfolk at any moment now. We need to take him down."

"I'm not done inspecting this," Kanda said back, peering closely at the marks on the man's wrists.

"Kanda!" Allen hissed. "You can look at it later."

"It looks kinda like a curse," Kanda went on, as if Allen were mute. "Look. It's kind of like your eye."

"It's not the akuma virus."

"No-duh it's not! Just look at it, Moyashi. See what you think."

"You want my help?" Allen asked, surprised and suddenly prepared to be smug.

"Will you look at it or not?"

"Not until we bring him down."

"Fine!" Kanda threw up his hands and walked a few steps away. "You do it, then."

"Scared of dead bodies?" Allen sneered. He hated this. He hated having to move the dead—seeing them not at peace, seeing them splayed out like this.

Kanda's voice was low and hard. "Only crucified ones."

Allen shut his mouth and took the body down alone.

Allen shut himself in his room, sat on his bed, and sank his head in his hands. His stomach grumbled, but he was the farthest thing from hungry. Komui's words played over in his head.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. It's like Daisya all over again."

All over again. Kanda had found that body too. Maybe he pretended he didn't care, but Kanda couldn't pretend that nobody mattered to him. Allen could see right through him. Kanda cared—about the people he'd known for long enough, the few he trusted, like Lenalee whom he'd grown up with. He'd grown up with Daisya too.

The likely reason Kanda never talked about Daisya wasn't that he didn't care, but because he did.

Allen walked to Komui's office for his next assignment, sleepless and exhausted.

Everyone in the Order is broken. The Order hurts everyone it touches. We're all destroyed little pieces of ourselves. And that's what God wants for us. He likes it when we're in pain.

If God wouldn't do anything about it, Allen would. Allen cared. He'd protect people. God could sit in his glass castle and watch from afar, but Allen was going to fight. Even if it meant breaking into even more pieces every time he raised his sword.

Tasting bile, Allen spat on the ground.

"That one's for you," he whispered spitefully at the ceiling.

If God cared, he could come down and face Allen in person.

Chapter Text

It hit Kanda like Sir Komlin the Third. He sat up in bed sweating and weary, the nightmare more real than reality—

"Kanda-san," a voice came through the door, "Komui's requesting you."

"Coming," Kanda grunted, and the voice receded.

Shivering, he stared down at his hands, making sure they were there, that his body parts were all extant and in the right places. When he searched the room, nothing was out of place. There was no one else there. Alone, like he'd always been.

Kanda liked it that way.

"I was going to wait for tactical information from our Finders and then send you and Lenalee," Komui said. "But since Allen has requested a mission today, I'm sending the three of you. It's territory we know very little about, so be careful."

"Since when does the bean sprout command our missions?"

"He doesn't," Komui said, nose up, but his eyes slid toward the corner of his office. "But I happen to like my furniture."

Kanda surveyed the destroyed chair, impressed how well Allen had shredded it.

"It's just like a child to throw a tantrum," he said.

"Now, now," Komui smiled, chivvying him toward the door. "You don't have any room to speak."

It took a moment for the comment to process, and then Kanda whirled, fist pulled back for a punch—but Komui was already slamming the office door between them.

Kanda had to settle for a wordless growl.

Kanda was in a horrifically foul mood when the three Exorcists met up by the waterway.

"Shut up," he barked at Allen before the bean could even open his mouth. "Let's get going."

Allen gave him a dark glare and stepped into the boat.

By the time they reached the train, even Lenalee quiet and turned inward, Kanda's ire had lessened somewhat. Finding their compartment, they stowed their things and arranged themselves over the seats. Normally this meant Kanda had one side of the compartment to himself while Lenalee sat next to whomever else was there. But today, Allen folded himself into a ball by the window, and Lenalee sat opposite him, reaching out to touch his knee.

"Are you alright?" she asked, while Kanda considered the merits of each bench. Sitting next to Allen meant, well, sitting next to Allen, while sitting next to Lenalee meant his shoulder turned into a pillow at some point.

"Fine," Allen said shortly, and gave one of his unconvincing, lying smiles that Kanda hated.

He settled beside Lenalee.

After an hour or so, Kanda was getting uncomfortable. Allen had said exactly one word all morning, and Kanda felt hints of guilt for having yelled at him. On the other hand, not having banal chatter was nice. Allen never talked about things of substance. Kanda never saw the point of talking unless absolutely necessary. They were complete opposites.

The little huddle Allen had curled in had not loosened as the train swayed, even though his temple hit the window glass going over a bump. His knees were up as a shield and his arms locked around them like steel cables. He'd lain his head on his knee with his face toward the window so that nobody could see his expression.

It was disturbing.

A shaky inhale came from below Kanda's chin.

"Lenalee?" he murmured.

—and then he wasn't sure why he'd spoken, because Lenalee cried all the time these days, and he never asked, just stood nearby, and he especially didn't murmur, and really nothing of this should be out of the ordinary enough for him to react, but…it reminded him of when they were younger, and she'd had nightmares on missions. He did too, which he always hotly denied later after she'd woken him up.

And years before that, when he'd had another friend who shared the nightmares with him.

Lenalee snuffled and wiped at her face, movement slow like he'd woken her.

Allen had turned his face from the window to watch them, curious gaze on Kanda. Lenalee looked up at him with similar confusion.

"You were crying in your sleep," he grumbled, staring at the opposite wall and willing them both to stop looking at him like that. Especially Allen. The clown who could see through things.

"Sorry," Lenalee muttered, wiping her face again, then dabbing at Kanda's shoulder. Not like that would do any good. He pulled away from her fingers.

But when she exhaled and tipped her head back against the seat, he shifted back over and offered his shoulder again.

When she'd fallen asleep again, one hand tucked around his arm this time, Kanda found Allen still watching him. He had a funny little smile on his face that made Kanda's gut flip, and then Kanda just wanted to fight him. He settled for baring his teeth. Allen rolled his eyes and returned to the window, but the smile was still on his face.

All Allen did was push Kanda out of the way.

Out of the path of an explosion. Sure, Kanda's body might be able to heal from the akuma virus, but that didn't mean Allen was going to force him to do so. Besides, Kanda was next to him, careening past his side, and it was easy to grab his arm and swing him over the side of the small incline.

There was the sound of Kanda impacting the ground somewhere down below, and then white hot pain from the explosion, and then the familiar, slimy creep of Innocence through Allen's person, invading him to take away the stain of the virus. All done.

But Kanda's reaction afterward made it seem like so, so much bigger of a deal.

"What the hell, moyashi?" Kanda barked, charging him and nearly catching Allen in the stomach with his sheathed sword.

Allen flipped out of the way and turned on him.

"What was that for?"

"You know what it was for," Kanda barked. "You threw me into a canyon."

"A tiny canyon. Six feet at most."

Kanda's eyes were nearly aflame.

"Better than the virus, you moron," Allen shot at him. "You're welcome."

"I don't care about that! Something that paltry doesn't slow me down." Kanda moved closer, Allen keeping a wary eye on Mugen. "I don't need your help, moyashi."

"You're the sort of person who rejects help even when you do need it," Allen snorted. "So forgive me if I don't listen to you."

"I forgive nothing. Don't," Kanda jerked forward and made Allen jump, "don't do it again."

"Whatever, Bakanda."

In the twilight outside the village, Kanda sat on a stone and rocked Mugen. The hilt fit into the hollow of neck and shoulder, like a friend, like a lover. The intimate touch he otherwise denied.

He'd forgotten. Yet another thing relegated to nightmares and precious dreams Kanda sought to forget night after night. The feeling of fingers wrapping around his wrist, a flailing appendage and suddenly he was falling, falling away over the edge. He splashed into water far below, a crow's feather in his shoulder, and was all alone.

Leaving friend behind amid the danger. Leaving beloved to rot.

Kanda closed his eyes and wished he could walk away. Wished he could stop caring about the one who pushed him over the edge, the one who tried to save him.

He wished he could go back and not fall. He wished he could not walk away, not ever walk away, and that they'd be okay, that he'd be able to keep someone safe for once. That instead of pain, someone helping him would be normal, expected, a partnership. No debts, no lies, no posturing, no anything. Just truth and trust and—

And love—

He pressed his palms into his eye sockets until his brain hurt. Finally, wiped of emotion, he returned to the inn to sleep.

Chapter Text

Lenalee just stepped out to pee. She didn't expect to return to their train compartment and hear muffled shouting. Pausing, she watched through the cracked door, not wanting to catch a punch.

"People are worth saving," Allen said. He was seated, with what looked like a bloody lip, while Kanda stood across from him with hands balled into fists. "It's part of what we do, as Exorcists, Kanda. Keep people from dying."

"Everyone dies!" Kanda yelled. "Everyone! Except you."

Kanda's voice dropped down, defeated, or emotional, or something.

Allen's face twisted into an ugly, bitter smile. "Bet that's your biggest disappointment: that I won't die."

"Shut up. Nobody has to wish for you to die because you try plenty hard enough on your own. You have all these people caring for you, bean sprout. Entire branches of the Order fight to keep you alive. And you just spit in their faces."

Kanda tapped his sword against the wall and shook his head, his face painted in disgust. This was what Lenalee had meant. Things which Kanda usually didn't care about suddenly mattered when it was Allen.

Lenalee agreed with Kanda, too: Allen didn't care about dying. It hurt everyone who cared about him.

"Sorry I'm such a disappointment to you," Allen said. Rearranging his legs, he tried to look calm but choked on his sneer. Lenalee could hear the emotion thick in his voice. "But, and forgive my rudeness: this isn't your business."

"It should be yours," Kanda snarled.

"Yes, so kindly fuck off. Why the hell do you care?"

"I don't! I can see things clearly because I don't care—and I'm telling you that you're a self-absorbed prick who puts on a show of being nice and angelic. But I can see right through you."

"If you don't care, what's the point of announcing my failures?"

Teeth bared, Kanda jumped him, too quickly for Allen to repel. Kanda's hand fisted in his shirt and he backed Allen against the wall, looming over him and growling.

"You're suicidal," he hissed. "Since all you care about is dying, you don't pay attention to the things you should. You're going to get someone hurt."

"Maybe it'll be me," Allen said.

Lenalee jolted back at the sickly smile on Allen's face as he said the words. Rage tore through Kanda's eyes, but Lenalee could hardly see it, because suddenly her sight was blurry with tears.

"Maybe it'll be me," Allen went on, "and then we'll both get our wishes. No more self-absorbed asshole for you to put up with."

Kanda threw him at the wall and stormed to the door. When he flung it open, he halted, eyebrows up and looking Lenalee up and down.

"You made her cry," he told Allen.

"Lenalee," Allen said, suddenly concerned, no trace of the fatalism he'd had a moment before. She hated how well he lied.

"Don't die," she said, and when Kanda made to push past her and escape, she stopped him with a hand on his chest and shoved him back into the compartment.

Slamming the door behind her, she glared Allen down. Kanda slumped into a seat.

"Don't you dare," she told Allen.

"Lenalee," Allen said, wisely staying down and not trying to stand. If he made any move forward, she'd sock him. "That was—that was just words, Lenalee. I swear. You know us—" Here he looked at Kanda with a desperate smile. "We're always saying shit, right, Kanda? That's all this was. Shit to rile each other."

Allen was so good at shutting these conversations down. Because he outright lied to your face, and then looked so innocent you felt terrible for telling him you thought it was a lie.

"I don't know about any shit," Kanda said, arms crossed. "You sounded serious."

Allen tried to get Kanda to look at him, expression desperate, then turning to anger when Kanda didn't budge.

"You were serious," Lenalee said, grateful for Kanda's backup. "You didn't—"

A sob burst out of nowhere and cut her off.

"Lenalee," Allen said in alarm, rising with hand outstretched, his tone soothing. "I'm sor—"

"Don't say you're sorry anymore!" she shouted, batting his hand away. "Sit down."

Allen sat.

"I've watched so many people I care about die—we have watched our loved ones die. Kanda too. Everyone at the Order. Those of us who've been there the longest have seen it the most. We've lost the most. We've…"

She inhaled.

"You don't save people just by saving their lives. People are more than blood and breathing. If you die, a part of us dies too. Part of us. We'll die a little bit with you." She pointed between Kanda and herself. "We'll remember forever. It's not worth it. I'd rather get hurt every mission than watch you take all the blows. That's why we're sent in teams. It's to protect us from having to suffer loss again."

The train swayed and clacked over its tracks.

"Everyone dies," Kanda muttered, quiet, sullen. "I'm done."

"I'm done with it too," she said. "But unlike you, Kanda Yuu, I'm honest. I don't pretend not to care. Instead, I protect what I care about."

He glared out the window.

"That means you," she pointed at Allen, "need to make an effort to stay in one piece. If you die before me—if you even come close—I will…"

Lenalee took a breath.

"I will kill myself in retaliation."

Horror broke Allen's mask of calm, shattering it into angles and pain and disbelief. "You wouldn't."

"I will. You better goddamnned stay alive, Allen Walker. Or it's over for both of us."

"But—but Komui—"

"—will spend the rest of his life cursing your name," she said. "Stay. Alive."

Allen crumpled into his seat, curling by the window and watching the passing green. Lenalee collapsed onto the other end of Allen's bench. Occasionally she heard mutters of 'ridiculous' and 'I didn't mean it,' but his excuses didn't matter. He could pretend, but he knew the consequences now.

As the tension ebbed from her muscles, Lenalee watched Kanda. He had his cheek cradled in his hand, moping and grumpy like always. But his eyes were so clear, dark and bottomless and refusing to focus on anything inside the compartment. Kanda always tried to escape the things that hurt him. They were different there: Lenalee cried and threw flaming-hot tantrums; Kanda fled and nursed ice-cold anger.

She hoped Allen would try. That he'd get it—maybe he hadn't even realized that he was, as Kanda put it, suicidal. Maybe he'd get it now. Maybe he'd use his socially-intuitive brain and realize that Kanda was furious because he cared. Maybe Allen would realize his life wasn't—didn't have to be—lonely. It never had been.

The Order had been his family from Day One. It was him who kept rejecting that.

By the end of their ride, she'd fallen asleep with her forehead tucked against Allen's neck, cherishing his alive warmth.

Chapter Text

Allen needed to get seriously, deeply drunk.

It was how Cross ignored the worst things of the world, the sad parts of his life, the blackness that threatened to consume his soul. Allen was already devoured within that darkness. Being drunk would at least help him forget.

Having everyone consider you a sweet little child-saint was a benefit in times like this. He had no problem at all acquiring the liquor he needed.

Then it was just down to drinking and forgetting.

"So, Allen's death-wish aside," Lavi said, rubbing Lenalee's back, "Kanda was upset?"

"Yeah. He says he doesn't care, but he's so dumb about leaking his emotions in front of everyone."

"Truth," Lavi laughed. "You know, everyone thinks Allen is the open one and Kanda is closed-up, but it's really the other way around. I always wonder why nobody can see that."

"Allen's the one with the shield up," Lenalee said. "Nothing's going to happen if he keeps lying. He'll just keep hurting Kanda."

"And Kanda will take it, and rage at him, and never stop loving him, because he's secretly a romantic."

She snorted. "A romantic seems going a bit far."

"Now, now," he said wisely, "Kanda's the most deeply loving of all of us."

"If he heard you right now, he'd kill you."

"That's why he's not here," Lavi said. "Besides, you're the one who said that our stoic Kanda Yuu has a soft, hurt-able heart."

"Yes, but killing me is anathema to his existence. It's the benefit to growing up with him."

"Lucky you."

She stuck out her tongue.

When Allen stumbled into the small courtyard, it was abundantly clear he was inebriated.

"What do you want?" Kanda said, continuing through sword forms and trying to pretend the bean sprout wasn't there.

"Nice place. Never been to this courtyard b'fore."

"Headquarters is big and you get lost trying to find your room."

"'S why I've got Tim," Allen said. "Tim—wait, where's he?"

Kanda shifted his footing and thrust Mugen forward with a grunt. "How the hell would I know?"

"'Coz you know everything," Allen said.

"News to me."

"That's why you got all these judgments about me." Stumbling, Allen found his way to a bench and eventually managed to plant his ass on it. "It's not 'coz you don't like me, 'coz I don't like that, so not true. It's 'coz you know everything."

"Good for me," Kanda grumbled. Talking to a drunk Walker about whether or not Kanda did in fact hate him or wanted to wrap his arms around him forever… Not Kanda's idea of a pleasant afternoon. The words 'over my dead body' came to mind.

As Kanda continued his forms, Allen's eyes followed him.

"You're beautiful when you do that," Allen murmured. "Dunno if anyone's told you."

Kanda was too good to jolt in surprise, but warmth rushed into his cheeks. He twisted on his back leg so he could do this sword form without Walker seeing his face.

When he rotated through an arced swing, he discovered Allen was much, much closer. Standing just beyond arm's reach.

"Love the way you move." Allen's eyes lit with awe, and the smile on his lips was something new.

Kanda growled a warning. "Allen…"

"Kanda!" Allen burst into a smile. "You called me Allen."

Letting Mugen fall to his side, Kanda inhaled and faced him fully. The bean was beautiful. Ghostly and scarred, intense, soft, hard. A straight posture and an easy smile. Eyes that never strayed from you.

"Why are you…?"

Kanda stopped and shook his head.

Allen reached out to him—with his plain hand, his human hand. Kanda watched it with focus and something almost like trepidation.

When Allen touched him, it sent a tremor through his body. Allen hadn't touched his arm; his shoulder; even his chest. His fingers smoothed over Kanda's cheek to cup his jaw. So intimate. The touch was light, gentle, in a way Kanda had never imagined Allen being. For a brief moment, Kanda closed his eyes and leaned into the hand on his cheek.

When he opened his eyes, Allen was moving forward, and Kanda didn't pull away; he inhaled roughly through parted lips and moved his free hand in an aborted attempt to touch Allen back. Halfway, his hand stopped and hovered, shaking.

Allen kept on coming.

When their lips touched, Kanda shuddered and heard Allen sigh: a contented sigh, full of relief and exhilaration. Melting into the kiss, Kanda finally moved his hand to run his fingers over the cotton at Allen's side. The adrenaline that pumped through Kanda's body made his fingers tremble, and Allen wiggled delightfully at the shivering touch and kissed Kanda harder.

Allen. With eyes closed, Kanda tasted the drinks Allen had had; felt the unnatural warmth of someone who'd had enough it would likely affect their memory. Upon that realization, Kanda murmured Allen's name and drew him closer with a hand on his hip. Allen had chosen to lose his mind. It meant Kanda could lose himself for a little while too.

They kissed and kissed and kissed. Allen slid his tongue against Kanda's, exploring the inside of his lip, the roof of his mouth. Kanda wrapped both arms around Allen tightly, Mugen dropping to the ground. Each kiss gave him the courage to caress Allen's skin in new places, hold him tighter, whisper Allen's name, move his lips in soft explorations over the skin behind Allen's ear.

Groaning, Allen pressed against him and let Kanda do all the gentle things he'd dreamed of.

When they parted, Kanda's teeth sliding off Allen's bottom lip, the rich, overwhelmed expression on Allen's face was too much. Kanda stared at him until he couldn't anymore, and then he looked down, away, trying to find a way out of this before Allen came to his senses. A way to keep this encounter pure, unsullied by Allen's soberness.

"You're amazingly good at that," Kanda said. His hand slid over the underside of Allen's arm, their fingers catching together, holding them there for an infinite second before finally sliding apart.

At the last parting of warm skin, Kanda couldn't look at Allen anymore, searching the ground, retrieving Mugen, and walking casually out of the courtyard.

When he reached his room, Kanda leaned back against the door and closed his eyes, breathing hard. The bean. So beautiful, intoxicated enough to stop seeing Kanda as the enemy, finally showing his affectionate side, which everyone else besides Kanda got to experience daily. Gentleness and smiles that said you were a source of pure joy.

Kanda slid down to sit on the floor and leaned his head on his knees.

He almost wished he'd never tasted this paradise. He would never forget it. And Allen would never remember.

It was better, he told himself. All they could ever do was fight with each other. No point seeking something they would never be.

Allen woke up beneath a starry sky with the taste of rotten death in his mouth. That was his least favorite part of drinking so much. But he watched the perfect night above him and decided this time was worth it.

It was so hard to get drunk when your metabolism was used to processing 15,000 calories a day. When he did finally get tipsy, he could always tell because his left arm went numb, the Innocence cut off by his sinfulness. He wondered sometimes why Sumon hadn't just spend every day at the end of a bottle. It would've made him unable to fight Akuma, and he could've left the Order. He could've been free.

Idly, Allen wondered if Kanda could get drunk. Kanda's body clearly worked differently than other people's. Maybe he couldn't. Allen had never seen him drink. Maybe he was as much a lightweight as his people were stereotyped to be, and he avoided the stuff as a result. Heaven forbid Kanda Yuu do anything approaching ridiculous in front of other people.

But god, Kanda could kiss.

Touch his lips, Allen gently pressed and remembered the way Kanda had instantly kissed him back. How Kanda had drawn him close, a hand tight at his waist as if afraid Allen might run from him.

Maybe if Kanda were willing to kiss him like that again, he could keep his promise to Lenalee and try harder to stay alive. If Kanda held him with those desperate fingers…Allen might find a way to stop feeling his wounds every second of the day. Every wound from every person he'd ever seen die.

If Kanda held the pieces of him together, Allen could live like he was mended.

Chapter Text

When Allen appeared in the cafeteria the next morning, he got his first post-kiss glimpse of Kanda. Back straight, Kanda ate his soba with the usual calm expression he wore every morning.

Allen smiled.

"Hey," he said, plopping beside Lenalee at the pair's table. He kept his eyes on Kanda as he asked, "How is everyone this morning?"

"Excellent," Lenalee beamed. "Did you hear? With Reever's help I was actually able to surprise Komui with a birthday gift for the first time ever. He's so disgustingly perceptive usually."

Allen, still watching Kanda, gave Lenalee's comment a chuckle and a polite noise of interest. But his gaze never wavered. On the bench, Kanda pushed his empty bowl away and finished his tea in slow, ritual movements.

He still didn't speak. He didn't even look at Allen.

"What's so special about keeping secrets from Komui?" he asked Lenalee, trying to act natural, keep the conversation going. Waiting for Kanda to at least look up.

"Did I mention the annoying perspicacity?" Lenalee said. "But Reever's a good distraction. And always amenable to pulling one over on my brother."

"How's—" Allen's voice dropped out when Kanda stood.

Allen and Lenalee both watched him gather his dishes and head away.

He hadn't even insulted Allen.

A terrible lurch sent Allen's stomach tumbling down, down.

He plastered a smile on his face for Lenalee. "How's Reever so distracting?"

"This isn't public knowledge—"

"Hey, Yuu, leaving so soon?" Lavi's chipper shout reverberated around the hall.

Kanda grunted something and Lavi grinned and slapped him on the back, ignoring Kanda's death glare.

"Come be social," Lavi insisted, pulling Kanda back toward the table.

Allen was amazed Kanda hadn't hit him yet—there was murder in his eyes. Then he saw why: Lavi had a tight grip on Mugen's hilt, keeping the sheath in place against Kanda's back.

Smart man.

Kanda was forced back into his vacated seat, shifting his glare over to Lenalee in warning; she looked about to crack up.

"Good morning, Kanda," she smirked. "Lovely to see you."

Kanda held up both hands and flipped her and Lavi off simultaneously.

"So," Lavi said, looking to Lenalee, "your brother is dating."

"He is?" Allen asked in surprise, forgetting for the moment Kanda's insistence that he didn't exist.

Lavi nodded. He had that hare-on-a-scent look, like this had been his purpose the whole time.

"Who?" Allen asked.

Lavi looked at Lenalee. "My question exactly."

Lenalee bit her lip in consideration as three pairs of eyes watched her.

The silence broke when Kanda said, "Wait. Komui Lee. Is dating."

Slowly, Lenalee nodded.

"Who?" Lavi burst out.

"How on earth do you know about it?" she demanded.

"I'm a Bookman. It's my job to know. Spill."

Lenalee stared him down. "Nobody knows. I found out on accident. I'm not telling you anything until he wants people to know things."

"But—" Lavi started listing wild protests, but Kanda cut across him: "How does a person find out 'on accident'?"

Swallowing, Lenalee's expression remained unchanged, but distinct redness bloomed in her cheeks.

"I walked in on them," she coughed.

"You walked in on them having sex?!" Lavi shouted.

"No, and shut up, Lavi. Everyone in the cafeteria can hear you."

"Sorry. Just…what did you catch them doing?"

"Making out, you pervert. Ugh. If I walked in on my brother having sex, I would probably still be in shock."

Kanda made an aborted cough that might've been a laugh.

"Komui Lee," Lavi said wonderingly. "Dating. Making out. Man, it's like he actually has a sex life."

"Lavi!" Lenalee exclaimed.

"Some people," Allen broke in, "date because they want to have a partner in life, Lavi. Some people are, you know, romantic?"

"I am romantic! I just think any good romance improves with fucking."

The other three choked and gaped at his choice of words, but Lavi just shrugged. Allen sometimes forgot that he'd seen enough of the world to stop caring what people thought. Lavi was amiable because it suited him; he could be equally crass if it suited him, too.

"Intimacy aside," Lenalee said delicately, "I agree with Allen. Believe it or not, Lavi, some people actually like others for more than their bodies. I don't know why a conversation about my big brother has to tend toward sex so much."

"Okay, sorry," he grumbled. "It was an honest question."

"I think more people ought to think in bigger terms than bodies," Allen said hurriedly, before Lenalee could get further annoyed. "It's rather shallow."

"Bodies are sexy," Lavi laughed. "Who doesn't think about that? It's natural, Allen-chan. No need to be shy."

Allen gritted his teeth.

"Not everyone thinks like you do," he growled. "Your way is frustrating for those who aren't good-looking or have something wrong with their bodies. Johnny's girlfriend didn't care when he broke his femur and couldn't do Things together for six months. If she had…I don't think I could respect someone like that."

"Well, sure, but that was temporary. He was always going to get his leg back. And anyway, even people with permanent issues can have physical fun. You get to be creative," Lavi grinned. "And beauty is subjective. Everyone is attractive to someone."

"You assume," Allen said, gripping his red hand under the table. "Maybe you're passing up perfectly good people because you refuse to consider those whose appearance doesn't immediately strike you."

"Usagi is right," Kanda said suddenly.

Everyone looked over at him and Allen had the impression that Lenalee and Lavi had forgotten he was there. Allen had definitely not. He'd given up on getting words out of Kanda this morning, but now Kanda looked firmly around the table—including, finally, at Allen.

"It's wrong to be with someone if you don't find them attractive. If you're going to…" Kanda fluttered his hand in a vague gesture, "do things, you should want it, not do it because it's convenient."

He spoke with slow deliberation, like he'd thought about this before. Kanda Yuu actually thinking about relationships. Novel.

"So you can't learn to love someone?" Allen asked, eyebrow rising. "You can't like them for who they are, and come to see them as attractive because of that?"

"Sounds fake to me."

"I'm not sure—" Lavi began.

"Everything is fake to you," Allen snarled. "The fucking soba at the market is fake to you."

"That's because it is fake! It's closer to udon than anything. They wouldn't know real soba if it landed on their heads."

"Why do you have to be arrogant about something this insignificant?"

"It's not arrogant: it's true. And they're the ones lying on their own fucking signage."

"How did this become a conversation about noodles?" Lavi asked weakly.

Kanda ripped Mugen from Lavi's grasp, standing up fast enough he nearly knocked Lavi over.

"Who the fuck knows?" he growled, and stalked off.

"Can't you ever just get along?" Lenalee sighed as Allen stabbed his fork into food without really looking at it.

"Maybe you should ask Bakanda," Allen said through gritted teeth. "Or hell, ask this idiot right here. He's the one who got all interested in whether Komui's date is hot. Because apparently that's the most important piece of information about people now."

Lavi yelped a protest, trying to avoid Lenalee's accusatory finger.

("He's right, you know," she said with a vicious poke.)

"I'm done," Allen said abruptly. "See you guys later."

Stalking the halls, Allen stared down at his scaly red hand. Kanda hadn't touched it when they kissed. Kanda rather seemed to like touching and kissing everywhere but Allen's deformed side. The omission hadn't escaped Allen's notice.

Not that he'd ever expected someone to hold this hand tenderly, caress the hard skin, press a kiss to the sharp scars from years of using his arm as a weapon. He'd never expected anyone to like this part of him. He certainly didn't.

It still hurt.

Kanda was avoiding the bean. Very much on purpose. Allen's comments about just ignoring a part of someone and calling that love…pretending that it meant you loved truly and completely if you chose to be blind to part of who they were… The words raced around his head like angry vultures cawing for his heart.

It was as twisted as the mask Allen wore all the damn time. Forcing things into what you wanted them to be? It was sick.

If Allen wanted moldable and convenient, he could get it somewhere else.

Inconveniently, he turned a corner and ran smack into the beansprout, all short and pale and warm. A familiar red hand braced against Kanda's chest to keep from falling over.

"Get off me," Kanda growled, pushing the warped hand away. It still creeped him out. The parasitic types always did. It was a chain tying them to the Order—at least Kanda could put down Mugen if he wanted to. In his mind, it marked them out for cursed, painful lives. Like Alma.

No one with parasitic Innocence ever got a happy ending.

Allen hurriedly extracted himself, rubbing his inhuman hand as he took a step back. It struck Kanda that Allen looked worried and small, an honest expression. Usually he was like Alma: always lying about being happy. Kanda hated that. The Order was a torture chamber, and pretending otherwise helped no one but the fucking Church.

"Watch where you're going," Allen said without looking up, still rubbing his hand.

"You're the one running through hallways," Kanda retorted.

"Where were you going anyway?"

"Since when do you care?"

Allen gave him a withering look. "Why are you such an asshole? I've never understood that."

"Why are you such a clown? Oh wait. I suppose I should expect that."

When Allen hissed, color rising in his face, Kanda felt the old thrill of getting a rise out of the bean.

"Are you," Allen growled, "insulting my…my father?"

"I'm insulting you, Moyashi," he said.

Allen closed his eyes as if praying for patience. "Why?"

"Because," Kanda said; he wasn't sure anymore why he was pushing this argument. Allen's anger, the joy of stripping away his mask, and the exhilarating anticipation of a fight hounded him like spectators. "I hate how much you lie."

Allen swung out with his human hand, and Kanda caught his fist. They wrestled for control for a moment, both shaking as Allen tried to wrench away and Kanda insisted on holding on. When Allen kicked out, Kanda was ready, used to Allen's tricks—but he still had to twist hard, and barely avoided Allen's acrobatics taking out his footing. Allen got his fist back, and Kanda was preparing to block it again, with a follow-up punch of his own, but Allen struck out with his left hand instead.

It caught Kanda in the solar plexus, though he captured much of the momentum as he wrapped his fingers around the scaly red wrist. He still got in his follow-up, and Allen deflected it with his free arm, but Kanda's grip on him meant Allen lost his balance.

They went down, Kanda knocking the parasitic Innocence away and trying to get a hold that would enable him to immobilize the bean. Before he could, Allen twisted his legs and boosted Kanda off him with a hip, so that Kanda tumbled down beside him. They scrabbled together for a few heated minutes before Allen managed to get the upper hand for a second.

Swinging on top of Kanda and pinning his hips with a knee, Allen took a heavy punch to the shoulder and wrapped fingers around Kanda's throat. Instinct took over and Kanda slammed the heel of his free hand into Allen's nose, coming away red. Fingers slid free from his throat and tangled in his ponytail instead. Allen tugged hard and Kanda kicked him in the back.

"I don't understand you," Allen spat, blood flecking Kanda's face. "You are insufferable."

Adrenaline roared in Kanda's chest.

"Honest," Kanda replied through a grin. "You can be honest after all."

Allen jolted. Color draining from him, the fight left his body in an instant.

"I'm sorry," he stammered.

Kanda threw him off and stood, spitting blood to the side.

"You're not sorry," he sneered, hoping to bring back the anger. The authenticity. "Stop lying."

"You don't know me," Allen said. "You can't even tell what's a lie or what's true. That's too bad."

Cold rushed into Kanda's heart. In a way it hadn't for years. A pain he hadn't felt since Alma.

Maybe he didn't know Allen at all. Maybe he'd made up things in his head, because Allen reminded him of someone he'd lost, and he'd been putting things on Allen which didn't belong to him, emotions which belonged only to one other person, long dead. Kanda had promised he'd never feel this way again. He kept his promises. Unlike Allen, Kanda didn't lie.

"I'm leaving," he said.

"Where?"

"Does it matter?" Kanda snapped, and strode away.

"My turn," Kanda demanded, barging into Komui's office. "I want a mission, and I want it right now. Get me out of this stupid building or I will start killing people."

Komui blinked at him, but his gaze was distracted and cheerful. "Ah. Alright. Yes, let's not have you killing anyone."

A little surprised as this easy acquiescence, Kanda waited quietly as Komui shifted things on his desk.

"Here," Komui said. "Bulgaria. Think you can keep from killing anyone there?"

"Lots of Akuma?" Kanda asked.

"Tons."

Kanda touched Mugen's hilt. "Good."

Kanda disappeared from the Order, and Allen skipped his next meal. Yes, it was maudlin, but to be fair, he'd had an absolutely unaggressive encounter with Kanda yesterday that had included many eagerly-reciprocated kisses, and now Kanda didn't want to look at him, said terrifically hurtful things about wanting attractive people, and mocked Mana to his face.

Today all Kanda had for him were cruel and cutting words.

Then there was the button.

When he stalked to his room, Allen found it lying on the floor. The small silver thing had his name inscribed on the back, and when he saw that, he knew. He'd only ripped up the current uniform once: in a fistfight with Kanda. He couldn't find his button afterward, and Johnny gave him a talk about losing expensive things.

The fact that Kanda had had it, had hoarded it, and the fact that Kanda was now returning it…

Allen locked himself in his room.

His thoughts went in many directions. About how this was normal, should be totally normal, because all the two of them did was fight, and even a kiss had to end in fighting or else they wouldn't be them. This was how they were with each other, and with only each other.

In that sense, the fights held a specialness to them. Kanda only got this fired up for Allen.

But yesterday had also been Allen's first kiss, and it had been amazing, and then…

He'd always been afraid that if he became affectionate with someone, they would find him disappointing.

The few people he'd opened up to—loved and accepted love from—over the last four years had all said things which cut, things which wouldn't have hurt so badly if he hadn't let them in. All his life, he'd been fighting against the curse of not being enough, and they'd each let him know in certain terms that he still wasn't enough. Cross told him every damn day just to be sure.

And now Kanda. Wanting Allen's kisses, but not his arm. Not wanting the whole of him: someone scarred and paranoid. Someone who only knew how to fight. It made sense. No one wanted to yoke themselves to a ball of trauma and disaster. But Allen couldn't be half of himself if he were going to be with someone. He couldn't survive someone loving only part of him.

The silver button said it all: once again, he was too much, and not enough.

Allen's gaze fell on the mirror in the corner. On the parts of him he hated and which were so mockingly visible. His eye. His arm. He kept meaning to get rid of the mirror, but then people would ask questions. Allen couldn't allow people at the Order to have personal information on him like that. When people knew your insecurities, they hurt you.

So he pretended the mirror didn't stare him down like a foe every day.

The scarred person who stared back at him was disgustingly clear: the mirror didn't even have the grace to be warped or cloudy. The ancient hair, the chewed-up face, the ugly, deformed fingers. The ragged, puckered scars that peaked out the collar of his shirt—when Allen tore it off in a spray of buttons and ripping fabric, they were big and red and asymmetrical across his torso. They looked wrong, every scar another broken thing on his body.

Rage reared in his chest with gasping suddenness.

Finding one of yesterday's empty bottles at his feet, Allen threw it at the wall. The shattering sound jolted life back into him; the glass fell across the floor in beautiful, broken randomness. Just like him.

At the violent sound, Timcanpy hid behind Allen's shoulder. Weary sadness washed over Allen. He was, when it came down to it, a terrifying beast.

The next bottle crashed over Allen's bed, damaging the old painting of a clown he'd stared at every day for the past year. No more clowns. He'd had enough. No more of the pierrot crying while everyone laughed at him.

Another bottle sailed into the painting just to be sure.

Tim fled, darting under Allen's bed in a shiver of golden wings. Sympathy welled up like bile and Allen choked.

"I'm sorry, Tim," he said.

The next bottle hit the wall behind Allen, spraying his back with glass, then the fourth wall, just to make it even—and he accidentally hit the window, glass exploding and wind rushing in. Furious, he threw a bottle at the mirror and watched in satisfaction as it shattered, his image breaking into a thousand misshapen pieces. Like his face, like his soul, deformed and hideous.

Glass littered the floor now, the broken window letting in a breeze that ruffled Allen's hair. Tim was nowhere to be seen, and in every direction lay hazards.

Barefoot, Allen walked over the glass to the window and hefted himself through the jagged frame.

Komui groaned and leaned his weight more fully on the desk behind him. This was what ten-minute breaks were for. Definitely.

As Reever moved his hand through Komui's hair, Komui traced the tendons of his throat, Reever's mouth frantic against his. Komui bit Reever's lip, feeling Reever's hum against his mouth. One of Reever's legs pressed between his, and Komui hefted Reever closer, taut against his body. Reever whispered a swear.

With one hand in Reever's hair, the other traced his back, diving lower, fingers catching on Reever's belt for a moment. He traced Reever's ass and Reever broke the kiss to gasp against Komui's neck.

"Shit," Reever whispered, "it's two."

Komui nipped at Reever's jaw, still cupping his ass and holding him close—before the words processed.

"Shit." Komui straightened, Reever still in his arms, and they stared at each other.

Luckily Lenalee was always exactly two minutes late to mission briefings. The benefit to her hating missions. She was probably holding Allen up in the cafeteria dawdling.

"There was, somewhere…" Komui rattled, searching his desk with Reever's help. They were both still panting, and when Komui caught Reever's eye, they shared a silly little smile.

"Found it," Reever said, handing the folder to Komui (who made sure their hands brushed).

"Thank you." Komui pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Darling."

Reever blushed as he left.

The door opened at 2:02:54.

"Excellent, you're here," Komui said, striding around to perch on the front of his desk like usual.

It was then that he registered only one person in the room.

"Where's Allen?" he asked.

"I thought he'd be here."

Allen was dutifully on time to things, unless he got caught up eating. Food was his weakness.

"Would you go to his room and fetch him?" Komui asked her. "I'll just call Jerry and make sure he's not in the cafeteria."

"He's not. I was just there." Lenalee turned toward the door. "Sorry about this, Oniisan. I'll be right back."

As if Komui cared about the delay. It meant ten more minutes with Lenalee in the safe harbor of the Order's walls.

Lavi passed Allen's room to find a frustrated Lenalee wrestling with the doorknob.

"Trying to jump him?" Lavi asked conversationally. "I used to wonder if you were sweet on him."

Lenalee glared. "I'm not, and you should know better. Help me get this door open."

"Why?" he asked, folding himself against the wall.

"Because he's late to a briefing, I've checked everywhere else, and this has to be where he's at. I tried yelling, but he won't wake up."

"Allen does sleep like the dead when he's pulled an all-nighter," Lavi said conversationally. "It's the only time he sleeps restfully. It makes him a terrible roommate on missions: he's either dead to the world, or waking up every half hour to shuffle around noisily."

"Lavi." Lenalee turned her stare on him. "Help me open the stupid door."

He joined her, reaching down to his side.

"Just use Innocence," he said. "The Church has plenty of money for doors."

Before she could grab his arm, he smashed an arm-sized hole in the wood with his hammer.

"There, see?" he said over her protests, reaching through to unlock it. "Voila."

Grumbling, she pushed past him into the room. Putting his hammer away, Lavi didn't see her stop, and crashed into her back.

"Sor—"

Lavi froze.

The room was a warzone. The bedspread, the room's one wall-hanging, the stand mirror: everything was shredded and covered in glass. The shattered window let in a whistle of ominous wind.

No Allen, awake or asleep, was present.

"Shit," he murmured, moving around her.

"Wait—don't disturb…" Lenalee pointed at the tracks of blood across the floor, but Lavi navigated smoothly around them without disturbing debris, making his way to the window where the blood trail led.

It took a moment, but he could locate smatters of brown down the side of the tower.

"Fuck," he breathed.

When he turned around, Lenalee was frozen in the same spot by the doorway, eyes round as she catalogued the destruction.

"We need to tell Komui," he said. She just nodded.

"Would you?" she asked, gaze still wandering. "Please, Lavi."

"As you wish."

When Lavi left, the flutter she'd seen under the bed turned into a peeping sliver of gold.

"It's alright," she said, holding out a hand.

After another minute, Timcanpy came out from the shadows and settled into her palm.

"What happened?" she asked, rubbing between his wings.

Tim nudged himself against her thumb and she kept petting him, fingers light on his wings. Finally he tipped back and opened his mouth—and an image poured forth.

Allen, framed by the broken window, lowered himself over the sill in an expert movement. As he disappeared, she saw crimson on his fingers and smeared over his cheek.

Tears came, and she tried to brush them away. Tim played the clip again.

"What—happened?" she whispered.

Tim kept looping the clip.

"But where did the blood come from? Who was he fighting? Who was he following? Why did he go—why didn't he warn anyone? Where is he now?"

Slow, sad, Tim curled his wings around himself, wrapping into a tiny, shaking ball.

Lenalee held him to her cheek and felt his warm body stop vibrating.

"We'll find him, Tim. Don't worry. He'll be okay."

Chapter Text

Allen was—

He had never been here before. He was most definitely lost, but better than that, he'd gotten far away from people.

The cave lay partway down the side of the cliff surrounding the Order, its shadowed entrance hidden in the rocks. He'd slipped at the edge and fallen to the floor in the mouth of the cave totally by accident, and now he'd followed it deeper into the bedrock. So far, it did not have an end.

Though rough and cave-y, with stalactites and wet salt spires, it was also clear and clean, with yellow light emanating off the local fungi. He stopped when pain forced him to, and now sat against a spire pulling glass from his feet. Each sliver hurt terribly coming out, and he would stop to pant and gaze around between digging in his flesh.

A pile of bloody glass sat beside him. He wasn't finished.

"Where do you think this is?" he asked. He knew Tim wasn't here, but it felt less lonely to talk. "I mean in relation to the Order. Are we under the main towers yet, or…? I wonder if this connects to the underground river. That would explain the humidity."

Holding his breath, Allen took the plunge and removed another sliver from his foot. Blood trailed in a ticklish line.

"I could live here," he commented. "It's surprisingly warm, and with a few touches…it wouldn't take much to make it home. We've certainly lived in far worse, and this has the benefit that nobody can find us. Wouldn't that be great? Living under the Order's nose, literally. I could sneak food from Jerry. It's a perfect setup."

Allen looked up at the shadowed roof.

"Hurry up and find me, Tim. It won't be any fun unless you're here."

Contented at how well these plans came together, Allen dug another piece of glass from his foot.

In the space of an hour, they went from a flurry of multi-tasking Lees and confusion to a full-on manhunt.

They'd searched the Order from top to bottom in all possible places, and now were searching again in all the impossible places. Komui sent golems out in case Allen and his adversary had left the mountain entirely. Locked rooms were unlocked, dusty cabinets opened.

Komui was in the deep basements, with keys to doors that few people knew existed.

Alone, he opened each with great care, searching with both respect and mounting fear. People had died here, and he didn't want yet another Exorcist to slip away in the lonely dark.

Even where the dust lay thick on the floor, undisturbed, Komui checked, pausing to listen for ragged breath.

Allen had to be somewhere. He couldn't just vanish off the face of the earth.

Or maybe he could, a haunted piece of him thought. With Allen—Exorcists in general—strange was normal.

After re-locking yet another terrible room, Komui sat down heavily on the floor to catch his breath. This couldn't be happening again.

"Niisan?"

His head shot up at the voice that absolutely could not be here.

"Komui?"

He looked down the hall in time to meet Lenalee's eyes as she came around the corner. Relief immediately painted her face, but Komui remained tense, senses misfiring.

Little sister…

But she was grown-up, and confident, and his trusted assistant. She was no longer a traumatized child lost in the maze of this place, running from people who had hurt her in ways Komui couldn't fathom; hiding even from him because half the time she thought he was her imagination. She didn't understand: there would be no more deaths, no more children tortured, no more crucifying and experimenting and cutting open. He was going to save everyone.

"Brother." Sitting beside him, his grown-up sister laid her head on his shoulder. He leaned into her.

Not a child anymore. Safe.

Safe like Komui was going to keep all the Exorcists.

"He's here somewhere," Komui said after a moment.

"I know."

In the silence, she found his hand, and he squeezed it.

It was infuriating. Kanda left for Bulgaria ready to kill as many twisted souls as he could only to meet some finder on her way back, who said she'd messaged Komui last week that Bulgaria was a dud. No akuma, no Innocence, and nothing for him to fight.

Kanda was trying to be furious, though he mostly felt exhaustion. Komui must've mixed up locations, which meant somewhere else was a battle to fight. He'd just ask Komui and head out to the correct location.

When he arrived at headquarters, the dock was empty and unlit. He tied the punt up himself and stood for a while, listening.

Eerie silence.

He shifted Mugen from his shoulder to his hip, one hand on the hilt.

Once he made it to the main passageways, it was sheer chaos. People going to and fro, talking to golems, completely ignoring the angry, armed man glaring as they passed.

"What the hell," he said, to no reply.

On an upper level, he found Lavi.

"What the hell," he repeated.

"Oh, Yuu. Allen's missing."

"What?"

"He disappeared," Lavi said soberly. "Blood all over his room, broken window. We searched the whole place, and now we're searching more thoroughly."

"Did anyone check the ground below the broken window?" Kanda asked.

Lavi's eyes widened in horror.

"Yes, we checked, and no, he's not there," he hissed. "Not dead as far as we know. Not that you apparently care."

He whirled, but Kanda caught his arm. His fingers dug in and Lavi winced, tiny to shake him off.

"I care," he hissed, and stomped off while Lavi was still gaping.

It was just like before. If you weren't too large, a person could go anywhere in the Order and not be found. Enough corners and passages and things to hide behind.

Kanda had done it. Not for a while, and he might be too tall for some spaces now, but he knew the secrets.

He hated remembering. The memories sat in the background, an escape route—literally—if he ever needed to leave headquarters in a hurry and without detection. But he never used them, never thought about it if he didn't have to, because his childhood was long in the past and he wanted to keep it buried.

Still, he called up the memories for Allen's sake, and went first to the place easiest to access from outside.

He'd find Moyashi.

Allen didn't think they'd actually find him. It had been such a good hiding spot. Such a good future home. Good real estate. He'd laughed at that.

He'd been waiting, still, for his little golden roommate to show up so he could get started on deciding where to make his home when robotic sounds reached him. He'd barely had time to dodge behind a stalagmite before Sir Komlin appeared from deeper in the cave. (Apparently it did eventually lead to the Order's basements. Would've been useful for stealing supplies. Dammit.) The droid had searched with mathematical precision, until Allen had no choice but to dart into the open to get away.

He'd barely managed to avoid the bot. Luckily, this iteration didn't have flight, and its climbing skills were poor.

Were, because it was now somewhere thousands of feet below in pieces. Like Allen would be, unless he found another lucky cave or dared to crawl back up to flat ground. If Sir Komlin had come so far, that probably meant people were searching, which meant he needed a good hiding spot.

He thought longingly of the only two routes away from the Order. The bridge was too exposed, but the river… He wondered if he could get there from where he clung, a narrow ledge on the cliffs below the Order. He could slip away without anyone ever knowing. He was a good swimmer.

Thanks to Narain. One of the many things they'd done together, back in those golden days. He'd been able to forget about Mana, forget what he'd done; he'd started over, left behind the pain. There'd been no mirrors, and he'd spent months forgetting what he looked like. He'd just been Allen, curious child and friend of Narain, smartest boy in India (in Allen's opinion). They'd done everything and every day had been fun—even work was fun, full of the promise of laughter afterward, and nothing had ever been wrong…

Until everything was wrong, and Allen brought tragedy down again. Cross moved them on, to a new location, and this one was full of half-naked men and women and mirrors all over. When the mirrors didn't show him his face, they showed him what was happening all around him, which were things he didn't want to see or know. Adults doing things his brain couldn't compute, because he'd been a child and it…it messed his head up in weird ways…

Hands fisted in his hair and scratched his scalp, hard enough to wake him to the pounding pain in his swinging feet. The narrow ledge he sat on was hit by occasional gusts, and the bottoms of his feet were icy cold with blood loss and exposure.

Exhaustion made him sink back against the sharp rocks. He didn't want to die by falling. The swooping feeling of the stomach—sounded like an awful final sensation before going to hell.

Looking up the cliff, Allen wondered where he could go where no one would find him—and then laughed aloud. He had the perfect place.

Chapter Text

While the Order searched for Allen, Kanda checked on the places where only he ever went. Everyone knew which rooms were his: where he meditated, where he trained, where he read. Few besides Noise and General Teodore dared enter, and Kanda had no problem using cutting looks or sharp blade to make people go away.

As a child, nothing had been his. Now that he could make demands, this was one of them: spaces that he commanded.

He searched the rooms one by one. Opening a door wasn't enough: if he didn't check every cranny, it would hound him. It would be dumb to miss the moyashi because of laziness.

Which was how he found Allen in the sunken pit in the room where Kanda trained.

It was a practice room with multi-leveled floors and varying terrain, which made it both vastly more interesting for footwork and a good place to hide himself away. Precisely as the bean sprout had done.

"Walker," he grunted, a little hoarse, and knelt at the edge of the wide hole. Below, Allen sat with his back against the wall, arms loose around his knees and head tipped back with eyes on nothing.

"Kanda," Allen said blandly.

"Everyone's looking for you," Kanda said.

"I don't want to be found," Allen said. "The Order can rot."

Kanda contemplated this, then shifted to sit with his feet hanging over the edge.

"For once we agree," he said.

It wasn't all that hard to sit together in the silence of the room. Allen's presence no longer alarmed Kanda like in the beginning, when he'd been full of questions and apparent naiveté. The bean was predictable to him now. Even when they fought, when they pushed each other, there were bounds Allen never crossed, and Kanda respected him for respecting Kanda's need for secrets. Some insults were never spoken, even when they could've been easy shots, and certain silences were never questioned, no matter how obvious.

Allen was someone he trusted in the same way as Lenalee. Someone who might ask a lot, far more than he wanted to give, but who knew where 'too much' lay and never asked for that.

"You're bleeding," Kanda said after a little while.

Allen looked down at his feet. "Yep."

"Did you lose your shoes when you lost your way?" Kanda snorted.

"Who says I'm lost? I'll have you know I got here without any trouble."

"I assume you never intended to end up here. Also, this is my space."

"You don't like sharing, do you?" Allen said.

"Too many siblings," Kanda said sarcastically—and there it was, a secret which Allen respected, never asking for the real truth.

"I would've liked siblings," Allen said wistfully. "I was always alone."

"I have no pity for you considering you're alone by choice. You have many friends who have been looking for you for hours."

"Huh." Allen continued staring at the ceiling.

Kanda tilted his head.

The whole thing did not straighten out in his brain, no matter how he looked at it.

"Did something happen?" he finally asked.

Allen looked up at him—really met his gaze, and Kanda realized that Allen had not looked at him til now.

His eyes were piercing and naked.

"You're a bitch, and nothing requires me to take your shit," Allen said. "Go find someone else to give the cold shoulder to. I don't care."

"I'm not giving the cold shoulder," Kanda hissed, jerking away. "If you're going to be insulting, at least be accurate."

"Sorry that I'm terrible at that too," Allen said flatly.

Kanda took in the bloody footprints leading to Allen's feet, the greyish skin, the wilted shoulders.

"What the hell are you moping about?" Kanda demanded, jumping down into the pit.

"You really," Allen gave a dead chuckle, "you really don't know."

"Of course I don't."

"You could never understand," Allen said. "You're pretty and skilled and while people may not like you, they trust you to get the job done. People rely on you."

"So?" Kanda's stomach fluttered at 'pretty.'

"So how the hell," Allen laughed into his knees, "do you expect to understand what it's like to be me?"

Kanda's mouth twisted.

"Stop playing the victim. You're an Exorcist. You're just like everyone else here, and believe it or not, they all have terrible stories too. Everyone hurts, everyone regrets, everyone dies."

"Everyone dies," Allen repeated in a whisper. "Except me."

"For however long that lasts," Kanda grunted, crossing his arms.

"Do you really care about nothing?" Allen whispered.

The words rang through Kanda like a bell.

Not caring? This was the farthest thing from Kanda not caring.

"I care about things worth caring about," he growled. "What do you care about? Appeasing your own sense of guilt by deciding what salvation looks like for other people and executing it without their consent? Getting hurt to compete in some stupid game about who can be the biggest martyr? Those things aren't worth shit."

"You know nothing," Allen said thickly. His lack of anger made Kanda's frustration burn hotter. "You don't know me. You don't know what I think."

"So maybe tell me, if you're so desperate to be understood."

Allen looked over with a blank expression.

"Whoever said I wanted to be understood by you?"

It lanced like fire through his gut. Maybe some part of Kanda had expected the pain: had known this was still the ground they were on when it came to each other. Enemies first, and friends never. But it still seared wounds upon his heart he didn't know what to do with.

Leaping up, he caught the edge of the pit and hoisted himself out.

"Fine," he said.

He headed for the exit.

"Kanda," Allen called. "Wait."

Head down, Kanda counted his heartbeat. He wanted to storm out. He wanted to have the last word for once.

He walked back.

"Sit. Please." Allen patted the hard floor of the pit. "I didn't mean that. Please listen while I talk."

Kanda didn't move. 

"You promise not to lie?"

"I'll stop lying," Allen agreed.

As he jumped back down and slid to the ground across from the bean, Kanda realized: stopping lying meant he'd been lying before.

He closed his eyes to hide his relief.

"Okay," Kanda said. "So tell me."

"You," Allen began slowly, "gave my button back. The one you'd been keeping."

Kanda swallowed. So this was where they were going.

"Figured you'd need it before the weather turns too cold," he said.

Allen rolled his eyes. "Look, if I'm not going to lie, you're not allowed to either."

"Then I don't know why I did it."

"I figured." Allen watched his fists as he ran them over his knees. "I think you gave it back because you don't want me to…to kiss you again. And I want you to know, I got the message."

Kanda gaped. Besides the absolute shock that Allen remembered the kiss he'd been so drunk for, he couldn't believe Allen was being so…calm.

And giving up so easily.

Kanda's eyes trailed down to the bloody stains again.

"Is this your tantrum to make yourself feel better?" he asked.

"No." Allen looked indignant. "Okay, well…I was thinking. I got hurt on accident."

"What were you thinking that entailed stepping on sharp objects?"

"Glass," Allen said. "And I was throwing bottles. Which is why I agreed with you that it was a—an outburst."

"Tantrum, but whatever."

Allen gave him a disapproving look and Kanda stopped pushing. The bean could retain some of his dignity.

"I know what I look like, Kanda." Allen's voice wavered. "I don't need mirrors to tell me."

"I know what you look like too, and I have no idea what this has to do with anything."

Allen tipped back his head.

"Do you think Lenalee is pretty?" he asked.

Hair rose on Kanda's arms, and he watched the bean warily. "I don't know."

"Everyone here is pretty," Allen sighed. "It's dumb. I suppose a few of them look plain. But most of the Exorcists are handsome people. I shouldn't have come here."

"Why? Because you think you're ugly?"

Allen turned fully to face him. "Do you think I'm not?" he challenged.

"I don't know," Kanda grumbled, looking down.

Allen laughed.

"Cosimo warned me," he chuckled, falling into a strange accent. "If there's nothin' special about you, then you're nothin'. This," he raised his left arm, "is the only thing special about me, and it's not even me."

"You seem to use it just fine."

"I know I could be better at combat," Allen said. "I'm workin' on it."

"I said, you seem to be just fine."

"Don't patronize me, Kanda. Not you. I spent the last three years of my existence bein' patronized by the most arrogant person in the world."

Kanda frowned. "Who?"

"Cross Marian?" Allen said obviously. "Lenalee likes to think he was hard on me because he cared. But she never saw his face. He hated me."

Kanda blinked. "Why?"

"He never wanted to take care of me. But I was an accommodator. He had to. He blamed me every single day for ruinin' his lifestyle. Not that he stopped drinkin' and fuckin' just because he got a kid."

Kanda honestly couldn't imagine that kind of childhood. His own had been hell for completely different reasons. When it came to the adults who raised him… General Teodore was a fountain of goodwill and kindness. Doctor Edgar and Chief Tui had cared about him in their terrifically misguided way. Kanda couldn't imagine an existence where people blamed their unhappiness on him. He'd spent his childhood blaming his unhappiness on everyone else.

"Maybe you should stop listening to your General," Kanda said.

"I didn't know you cared," Allen said.

"If he hates you, he's not the person whose opinion you should look to in regards to your self-worth."

"That's wise. On the other hand, try turning off your emotions and let me know how it goes. It's impossible."

Kanda huffed and rubbed his temples.

"You look fine, you fight well, you haven't died, and lots of people like you," Kanda said. "Cross Marian is selfish. Stop expecting him to love you."

There was a long silence, long enough that Kanda finally looked over.

Eyes wide, the bean was tearing up.

"That is…" Allen whispered, "I needed… Thank you. That's the sort of thing I need to hear."

And I'll tell you, Kanda thought.

"Tough, Moyashi," he growled. "You're going to have to tell yourself. Nobody else can read your mind and know when you need to hear those things. You have to hold your own pieces together. People can help, but we're all alone in our heads. Nobody can decide for you what the value of your life is. Nobody can decide for you whether to live or die."

Allen let out a long breath.

"Do you think Lenalee meant what she said?" he asked. "About if I died, then she'd…"

"Of course not. She said that to make you get serious."

"Good. I hoped that was the case."

"She's not an idiot," Kanda said. "Unlike some people I could name."

"Kanda," Allen said in exasperation. "What is between us that makes you act like this whenever I'm here? I'd really like to know so I can maybe not fight you all the time."

"Sorry."

"Kanda Yuu is apologizing? God, the world must be ending. But that's not an answer. Why do you hate me so much? Since the day I came to the Order…"

"Don't hate you," Kanda grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Idiot."

"Then why?"

The question held so many things. So many things that were easier to fight about than say aloud.

"You remind me of someone," Kanda sighed. "I don't like it."

"Who?"

Kanda took a breath. Allen reminded him of Alma, how he was bright and happy when it made no sense, how he surrounded himself with people but was deeply alone. He'd seen that fake smile the first day and hated this boy who would dare to follow in Alma's terrible footsteps.

Then as he'd gotten to know him, Allen reminded him more and more of—

"Me," Kanda said. "Fighting so hard because you hope it'll kill you. Refusing intimacy because it hurts. Waiting for things you can never have."

Allen looked up from his knees, surprised. And sad, too. He hated knowing that Kanda was right, that both of them fought because really they wanted to die. That they both closed off because people hurt them over and over.

"There never was a chance for us, was there?" he asked softly. "We'll just keep pushing each other until one or both of us breaks."

"Maybe." Kanda inhaled. "You're always pissing me off because your issues are the things that piss me off about myself."

Watching him, Allen wondered if Kanda was always this ready to open up; Allen just never asked the right questions.

"People who are going to die shouldn't rush into things," Kanda said suddenly. "Friendship, or other things. It's just going to hurt. Fighting's better. Any other attachment will inevitably be painful."

"Unless it isn't," Allen said. "Unless maybe we're some of the lucky ones, and we can survive this war."

"Because that's likely," Kanda grunted.

"I—" Allen sucked a breath. "I want to be with you."

The silence was so long, so interminable. Kanda didn't move, and his face was inscrutable, expressionless, like he was deciding a move in chess.

Allen knew the emotional hiding was self-defense. He knew it because he did the same thing. But God did it hurt to be on the receiving end of that blank stare.

"Do you want that," Kanda asked slowly, "because you want someone to hold you together?"

"What?"

"Are you looking for a savior, or a friend?"

"More than a friend," Allen said. "But I'll take friendship."

Anger twitched on Kanda's face. "You settle too easily."

"I'm used to taking what I can get."

"Stop acting like you're not worth anything. You're allowed to demand things of life."

"Is that what you call it?" Allen snorted. "Throwing your weight around is considered self-esteem these days?"

"Shut up."

They fell into silence.

Staring at his malformed hand, Allen opened his mouth.

"I…need to tell you something," Kanda said haltingly.

Allen shut his mouth with a snap.

"Yes?" he prompted when Kanda stayed quiet.

"I…had a friend."

"Gasp."

"Shut up and listen," Kanda said, real pain in his eyes.

"Sorry." Allen bowed his head. "Go on."

"I had a friend who was…very, very broken inside. They hid it because they hoped that by pretending to be fine, they could make themselves fine. Shockingly, that was a useless plan."

"Sounds like my coping strategy," Allen laughed weakly. "When you ignore all the shit, at least you can smile."

"But the smile's fake," Kanda said. "And I didn't like that. So I pushed him."

Oh, Allen thought. That's why you always try to make me mad.

"I fought him and pushed him," Kanda went on. "Until one day, he broke. He admitted that he hated…the things that were done to him. He hated the people who did them. I thought it was a step forward."

Kanda took a long, shaky breath.

"But then, I held the pieces. He'd never practiced holding himself together, so he wanted me to do it. Hoped I could. He wanted me to be the glue on his…sanity."

Kanda watched the toes of his boots with intense scrutiny. Allen held his breath. All these personal statements felt like windows into the real Kanda, who felt things and thought deeply and lived for reasons other than the next fight.

A Kanda who wasn't always angry.

"I can't be that glue, Moyashi. For one, I don't know how. I also…don't think that's my job. I tried." Kanda's mouth twisted. "But I failed. And it ended catastrophically. Because I think…the only person who can save your soul is yourself. I never had the power to heal him. That's why I failed. It wasn't my fault. Nor his—he didn't know. It was just bad luck and a shitty, shitty world."

"Really shitty," Allen agreed.

"Yeah," Kanda said, appearing surprised at Allen's agreement. "The Order is a messed-up hellhole that claims to be from God."

Now there was a statement full of meaning. One day, Allen would ask him more questions.

"I get what you're trying to say," Allen said. "About brokenness and holding together. And you're right. I don't want anyone else to…'save' me or whatever. It's just…I don't want people to be afraid of me anymore."

"Afraid?" Kanda scoffed.

"Disgusted, then." Allen looked down at his hand. "I'll hold the pieces together; but I want to have all those pieces acknowledged. Not to have people pretend they aren't there."

"Yesterday, you said the opposite," Kanda said. Allen growled. "Quit that, Moyashi. You're the one who said it's okay to…to love a part of someone, and let that be the same as if you liked all of them."

"That's what you thought I said?"

"Am I wrong? You acted like you can find parts of a person repulsive and still claim you like them. But if someone secretly despises a person, they don't deserve that person. Period."

"I agree," Allen said. "And that includes their body."

"Obviously," Kanda said.

"Right. So why did you think I disagreed with you?"

"Really, Moyashi?" Kanda sighed. "You seem to want to eradicate physical attraction from all relationships ever. I can't help pointing out that you wouldn't exist if that came true."

"Oh, ha. Who even knows if my parents were attracted to each other at all. Maybe I was something my mother wanted to forget. Maybe that's why I got sold."

"My point still stands," Kanda grunted. "Attraction is important in relationships. The body is part of the person."

"It's true, with stipulations. Sometimes parts of a person's appearance…they just aren't appealing. That's just how it is."

"Do you even know how you sound right now?" Kanda growled. "Walker, attraction doesn't count for anything if person A picks and chooses what they want of person B. It's all or nothing: you have to take people as they are. Or else person A is a selfish bitch and person B should definitely not date them."

"Does that include you?" Allen asked in a low voice.

Kanda jerked hard.

"What?"

"Are you a selfish bitch?" Allen asked. "Or just a hypocrite?"

"What?"

"It's one or the other, Kanda. You sure liked kissing the other day. But you say it 'doesn't count for anything' unless you're willing to accept all of me."

"When was I— What—?" Kanda couldn't find words. The Moyashi was baldly talking about them, and it was so personal it ached like a bruise. This acknowledgment of their intimacy upset the status quo.

"How," Kanda asked with the barest control over his temper, "was I not comprehensive in my attention?"

Allen held up his arm.

In the low light, the red looked almost black in places, and the scales were sharper, more defined. Sharp nails and points where there shouldn't be any. Kanda understood why Allen covered it up with a glove all the time. It was inhuman.

"This," Allen said in a grating voice. "You hate this."

"It's not you," Kanda said. "You said so yourself."

"Well, it's attached to me."

"It's Innocence. It is not you. No human would ever have something so ruthlessly parasitic by choice."

"Choice or not, it's part of me."

Kanda closed his eyes. Fuck.

"Come here," he said.

At the silence, no shifting movement, he looked across the pit—and realized Allen's feet were still bleeding. Kanda got up and resettled at Allen's side, close but not touching.

"Give it here," Kanda said.

After a confused moment, Allen slowly offered his hand.

With a sharp inhale, Kanda took it, wrapping the fingers in his own. They were like a mix of ceramic and metal, clinking and sharp, but warm too. They moved like flesh despite their hardness, and when Allen gripped his hand, it felt like it was alive.

Eyes closed, Kanda ran his other hand up Allen's forearm. He searched the ridges of it—some were part of the arm's construction, others scars from its use. Allen jumped when Kanda touched one of the bigger scars, and Kanda went more gently, trying to be soft over the sensitive lines.

No way was it human. But it was undeniably Allen.

"I can," Kanda said, then stopped.

"Well, that's one thing, I suppose," Allen said wryly. "Doesn't make my face any easier to look at."

"Hell, what's wrong with you now?"

"How about the giant weird scar covering half my face that you commented on the first time you met me."

"I commented on your arm, too."

"My point exactly," Allen said.

"Okay, so it was a bit tactless."

"A bit?"

"You know what I mean."

"Anyway, I suppose I could be proud of my face's divisive ability," Allen laughed. "I separate the world into two simple categories: the people who stare, and the ones who can't look at me."

"People don't look at you?"

"Not so much at the Order: most of them are in the staring camp. But out and about, I get a lot of people turning away. People seem embarrassed for me."

"People are stupid. I never understood why you cared."

"Survival's sake, Baka. You can get away with ignoring people: you're beautiful enough and scary enough to get by just fine. Some of us have to contend with social niceties to get anywhere."

"I thought you did that because you liked it," Kanda said.

"Who the fuck enjoys manipulating people into liking them?"

"Whatever. Your face is your face."

"How reassuring," Allen said drily.

"I think it looks…" Kanda let his final words end in a mumble.

Allen's eyes widened. "Beg pardon?"

"I said it looks kind of cool. So shut up already."

"Wow." Allen laughed. "Wow, Kanda."

Kanda didn't like the sound of that laugh; he wasn't sure what he'd said to deserve it. He realized suddenly that he was still holding Allen's hand; the joints had warmed under his fingers and softened. Fascinated, Kanda looked closer.

This just made Allen laugh again.

"Did you know the skin changes?" Kanda asked, ignoring that stupid laughter.

"Um, Kanda," Allen chuckled, "my whole arm changes, remember?"

"I mean without activating it! Christ. You are so difficult sometimes."

"I think you'd find me less difficult if you were less standoffish."

"Maybe I'm standoffish because you're difficult."

"Then we're at an impasse." For some reason Allen seemed pleased about this. "In which case, I'll have to ask you to let go of my hand."

Kanda raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because it's my body and I can do what I want with it."

Kanda let go, and Allen gave him a surprised look.

"You said you wanted me to let go, Moyashi."

"I didn't expect you to comply," Allen said.

"Nonconsensual hand-holding doesn't do it for me," Kanda said.

"Consensual does?"

Kanda shrugged.

Allen put his hand in Kanda's again. "In that case, please continue."

Kanda went back to his explorations, resting the unnaturally heavy arm over his crossed legs as he massaged the scars and strange skin. He realized he was smiling—but what the hell. The moyashi could merit a smile.

"You never said yes or no," Allen said after a few minutes.

Kanda grazed his fingers around a circular bump of scar tissue that protruded from both sides of Allen's wrist. Road Kamelot's fault.

"Never said yes or no about what?"

"Friendship."

Kanda paused. "Or more than friendship, if I recall."

Allen's breath stuttered, very audible with their proximity.

"Or more," he agreed. He went on more lightly, "I'm not giving you my button back, though, no matter what your answer. I still can't believe you held onto it."

"Victory prize," Kanda grumbled.

The button had been a reminder of what he wanted. As long as he'd had it, it meant a tiny piece of Allen Walker belonged to him, no matter what else happened.

"You'll have to come up with a new prize, then," Allen said.

"How about," Kanda looked over, "you being sober this time?"

Allen blinked stupidly. "Huh?"

With a soft inhale, Kanda leaned in, waited a second for the nod of consent, and pressed his lips to Allen's.

Allen made a sound of soft surprise, then pushed closer with a nudge of his nose. Kanda smiled into the kiss.

He moved his lips slowly. He had Allen Walker, and nobody else did.

It ended as it had begun, slow and conscious and with a prodigious amount of eye contact that was as shocking as ice water. It had been so long since anyone looked at Kanda like that.

As if they really liked him.

Allen interrupted his thoughts with another kiss, then another, all short and close-mouthed and gentle. Kanda found his gut was doing what others might call backflips. He was getting emotional.

"Baka Moyashi," he grumbled, and kissed Allen some more.

"Why," Allen asked between kisses, "did you pick a fight with me after last time? Actually, why did you ignore me first?"

"Don't like when you lie," Kanda muttered. "You were drunk and it wasn't real."

"It was real. Drunk was the only way I could get up the nerve."

"That would make you a coward," Kanda said, "and you're not one. It wasn't real."

"You're saying my first kiss wasn't my first kiss?"

"First?"

"Yes, first. Just how many people do you think there are to kiss around here, Kanda?"

"Quite a lot."

"Oh my God. How many do you think want to kiss this shitty face—"

Kanda kissed him, hard, and pushed his tongue into Allen's mouth. The response was immediate and reciprocal, Allen's tongue finding his and exchanging affectionate touches. Small groans escaped Kanda's throat.

"I do," Kanda said when he broke away, "and I have excellent judgment."

"For once, I really don't want to argue with you." Allen smiled.

"Good. Then don't."

The gaze he gave Allen was heated, and Allen responded with leaning in. But instead of kissing his mouth, Kanda raised Allen's hand to his lips and kissed a knuckle, watching Allen's face as he did so.

Allen looked shell-shocked.

Actually.

He looked scared.

Kanda kissed another knuckle, and then another, down each finger and against the pad of his thumb.

"W-What are you doing?" Allen asked in a tiny voice.

"Something new," Kanda said, and kissed the inside of his wrist.

Allen's eyelids fluttered, his breath coming in a holy gasp. "Kanda—"

It was a completely different way of breaking the bean's mask.

He kissed up the rough, trembling arm and shifted around to face Allen, shoulder against Allen's knees, which were still up defensively.

Kanda reached where the Innocence met skin, a stark line of red and white below Allen's shoulder, and wondered if it ever ached. Drawing his lips along the seam, he could feel all the tension in Allen's body.

He moved up and kissed Allen's mouth again.

Allen wasn't as bold now. His hand trembled in Kanda's, and he kept trying to catch up with Kanda's lips, reacting slowly when Kanda sucked on him, nibbled on him. Just relax, Kanda thought. I won't hurt you.

Fuck. He'd said things like that to Alma.

But he was older now, and he knew what he could and could not do. And Allen did too, apparently, and was willing to learn boundaries—that would be a feat for both of them. He suspected neither of them had ever been in any sort of relationship, romantic, filial, or friendly, that came anywhere close to healthy.

They could learn together. They'd learned lots together since Allen came to the Order.

Kanda moved his hands to frame Allen's face, thumb running over the scar Allen claimed to hate.

That, of all things, finally made Allen relax, stop shivering, and take a breath. When his tongue touched Kanda's, it wasn't in desperation, but desire.

"I love you," Kanda said, pushing unruly hair from Allen's face and kissing him deeper.

"Kanda," Allen said.

Kanda hummed and opened his mouth to the pleasant intrusion of Allen's skillful tongue. No way could he have guessed this was Allen's first.

"Kanda," Allen said again after a minute.

"Mm."

"You just said…you said you love me."

Kanda kissed the corner of Allen's mouth, then a sprinkling of kisses up the red line of his scar. "Mmm."

"Kanda."

Allen tugged insistently on his hand.

Sighing, Kanda stopped distracting him and leaned his forehead against the bean's instead—avoiding his gaze.

"Why?" Allen asked.

Kanda grunted.

"Please, Kanda."

"Because," Kanda said. "I do. And not," he added, pulling back to make eye contact, "just parts: everything. Or I'll try, at least. I want to."

His face flushed hot.

"I know. It's new." Smiling, Allen ran the back of his fingers down Kanda's cheek. "We'll try together."

"I'm sorry," Kanda said quickly, while they were still in this vulnerable moment. "About last time, and not touching your arm. I didn't mean to…it just never felt like it was you, and I…"

Kanda shook his head in frustration.

"You just needed to start. This was the start."

"No, it's more than that," he insisted. He took a deep breath, moving around to resettle so they sat shoulder-to-shoulder against the wall. Allen laced their fingers together, his left hand fitting into Kanda's. It didn't seem like it should, but maybe that was part of its adaptation: it shifted to fit whatever Allen needed it for. Maybe it was more symbiotic than Kanda thought.

"Last time I was in love with someone," Kanda murmured, "they were also a parasite-type."

"Were?"

"Dead," Kanda said flatly. "His looked like wings. It was his right arm, instead of left," he said, squeezing Allen's hand. "But…it…"

Allen rubbed his thumb over Kanda's knuckles. A rough, sometimes-sharp thumb that he tried to be careful with, but Kanda didn't seem to mind.

Kanda was quiet for a long time.

"You don't have to say it," Allen said. "I can guess. It went out of control. It got destroyed. It hurt you somehow. It… Did it kill him?"

"K-Kind of," Kanda murmured. "All of the above."

"I've heard that can happen," Allen said, leaning into him. "The Innocence takes so much energy that you drain yourself."

He shrugged his shoulders softly against Kanda's side.

Then he glanced up.

"Kanda, do you not trust my arm?"

Kanda's sigh was as weighty as the world.

"I know you can fight, Moyashi."

"I don't mean relying on me. Do you trust my arm not to hurt you?" Allen raised the hand and twisted it back and forth, watching the play of light on the scaly parts. "I certainly won't hurt you on purpose, and my arm doesn't usually do things without my consent. It wouldn't have reason to harm another accommodator, anyway."

Kanda rubbed his chest, then his right shoulder.

"Kanda." Allen took Kanda's other hand so that he held both tightly, looking at Kanda's downturned eyes. "Old wounds?"

Kanda said nothing, just breathed and gripped Allen's hands back. The touch was a relief.

"Yours isn't his," Kanda said finally. "Yours is different. It's the black hole where you store all that food you eat."

Allen laughed in surprise, breaking off to cough and giggling at Kanda's unimpressed look.

"It's true," Kanda said.

"Maybe that's why it's so heavy," Allen teased. "My first day, Komui noticed I walk funny. Told me it's because I'm not evenly weighted. I've adjusted and never noticed."

"Whatever the reason, just know I'm never cooking for you. You eat for a dozen people."

"I'm picky about my soba anyway."

"I can cook other things," Kanda retorted.

"Prove it."

Kanda glared. "You're not going to trick me into cooking for you."

Allen started laughing again, resting his forehead on Kanda's shoulder. He felt exhausted, in the deep way of excised pain and resolved tension. Talking had no right to be this wearying.

A finger nudged Allen's chin up. He was so unused to tender touches, especially from Kanda. Surprise bubbled in his gut every time.

That slim finger drew him up until they were looking at one another, Kanda leaning in slowly and taking his time before reaching Allen's mouth. The way Kanda kissed him was languid, like they had all the time in the world and Kanda wanted to experience each sensation fully.

Kanda tugged at Allen's lip with his own, while Allen nipped at him. Kanda ran his tongue around just inside Allen's mouth, such a flirtatious move it made Allen breathless. More, Allen thought, dizzy with each move they made. I want more of Yuu.

"Whoa, Bean Sprout," Kanda said, hands suddenly on Allen's shoulders. Allen found himself staring at the fabric of Kanda's shirt while the world spun.

"You're…really good at that," Allen said.

"And you've lost blood."

Kanda was holding him close with an arm around his torso now, leaning over to inspect Allen's feet.

"Pulled all the glass out," Allen said. His lips felt numb, like they'd disappeared somewhere with the kissing. He found a laugh tumbling out of his throat. "Why do I feel like this?"

"Cold?" Kanda snorted. "Because you've lost blood. Like I said. And you're probably rebounding from adrenaline."

He was cold, Allen realized. Or else Kanda was really warm.

"It's because of kissing," Allen said suddenly. "And the talking. You made me relax. It's your fault."

"If you're in this bad of shape, I will take full blame for getting you to relax and heal. Maybe I'll hit you over the head to speed things up."

"We're dating," Allen said. "Just tell me we're dating and I'll be as unconscious as you like."

He could tell he was slurring the words.

"We're dating, Moyashi."

"It's Allen," Allen said, and let Kanda pick him up.

At some point, his dazed eyes closed.

Chapter Text

Lenalee saw Kanda walking across a hall toward the infirmary. Distinctive white hair lay over his arm.

"You found him?" she exclaimed, running to his side. "God, what happened?"

"He's fine," Kanda said. "Just unconscious."

"That's not usually fine, Kanda. Wait. You didn't hit him, did you?"

"Wish I had," Kanda grumbled. "He says weird things when he babbles."

"Like what?"

"Weird things. Would you open that door?"

He nodded his head at the infirmary.

"What's the magic word?"

"My arms are full. I thought you were concerned about him."

Rolling her eyes she pushed the door open and followed him in.

Kanda gave the nurse a suspiciously detailed report of Allen's injuries (just his feet, but the cuts were quite deep) while Lenalee looked on. She hadn't seen the blood at first. There was a lot of it.

"Is this the one Chief Komui has people looking for?" the man asked. He looked at Lenalee. "Has he been alerted?"

When she finished speaking through her golem, she found Kanda still standing there, arms crossed as he watched the nurse carefully disinfecting the wounds.

"You okay?" she asked casually, leaning against the wall beside him.

"Fine." After a moment, he frowned and looked over at her, eyebrow crawling down in suspicion. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Where did you find him, anyway? Do you know what happened?"

"He was sitting in a training room like an idiot."

"What attacked him?"

"His face," Kanda said cryptically. "Maybe you should ask him."

"He's unconscious, Kanda."

"He's just resting. Bean Sprout will wake up if you make enough noise."

"Not exactly what we should do when he's healing—"

Komui burst into the infirmary with the slamming of the double doors.

"Allen? Where is that boy?" Komui called.

"Keep your voice down," Lenalee hissed from beside one of the cots in the back.

"Why all the commotion?" came a tired voice.

Lenalee whipped around and Komui came to stand beside her, Allen blinking in the bed.

"I'm not that injured," Allen said, trying to sit up but having to stop to let a gigantic yawn through.

"What happened?" Komui asked, perching on the next cot. He was always aware of his height in here. People in beds weren't generally comfortable while being looked down on.

Allen blinked at him, looking somewhat confused. He raised an eyebrow at Kanda, who was leaning on the wall nearby.

"What?" Kanda said sullenly.

Allen rolled his eyes.

"This is unnecessary," he said, his usual smile appearing as he turned to the others. "You all are worried over nothing. I'll be fine."

"That's not what I say," said the nurse dressing Allen's feet.

"Thank you for your work," Allen told the man graciously. "I appreciate it. I'm sure with your help I'll heal fine."

Komui shook his head. He knew exactly what Allen was doing because it was the sort of thing he would do.

"Now, now, we should all always listen to the advice of our medical staff." Komui straightened his glasses. "Allen, I'd like to know where you got these injuries. It seemed something attacked you in your room, but we don't know anything else."

"Ugh." Allen expelled a breath and lay back down.

Komui didn't miss the look he traded with Kanda.

"Kanda?" Komui asked. Kanda might not like talking, but he did enjoy detailing Allen's defeats.

Kanda sighed like this was all an annoyance. "There are no monsters lurking anywhere, and Order security hasn't been compromised. Satisfied?"

"No, I am not. What—"

"I had a bad day," Allen groaned, hands over his face. "The glass was on accident. Didn't realize it was this bad. I was dumb and distracted."

"Why did you leave through the window?"

"Because he was having an outburst," Kanda said snidely.

"I was having a bad day!" Allen shot back. "Just wanted some fresh air. Without having to talk to people. Everyone gets days like that, right?" He tried for his smile. "Whatever, I said it was dumb, I'm sorry for worrying you, and may I please go now? I'm starving."

The nurse, who'd just finished wrapping Allen's other foot, gave him an austere look.

"You should not be walking around."

Allen groaned.

"Hah," Kanda said.

"Thank you for telling me," Komui broke in, waiting until Allen met his eyes. "I'll always be worried, even if it is 'just' a bad day," Komui said with a smile. "Worrying is my job. I'm glad you're alright. If you need anything, you let me know. I'll leave you be. Follow this young man's instructions, alright?"

Allen nodded begrudgingly (the nurse wore a grateful smile) and Komui stood.

"I have an idea," Allen said suddenly, face lighting up. He looked craftily at Kanda. "I can't walk…so I'll have to be carried."

"No," Kanda said immediately. "Only if you're unconscious."

"I'll let you hit me over the head like you were threatening. Then I'd be unconscious and you could carry me to the cafeteria."

"No."

"Well, Lenalee can't carry me, and the staff here have better things to do with their time. You don't." Allen stuck out his tongue.

"Bite me," Kanda growled.

Allen just grinned.

After a few seconds, with much grumbling, Kanda bent down and let himself be used as transportation.

Komui watched this interaction with interest.

He stepped aside to let the pair pass, but caught his sister's arm when she went to follow.

"What was that?" he asked, eyes on Kanda's back. Allen was laughing at something while Kanda let loose a constant string of non-serious threats.

"I don't know," she said, "but I would guess it's the same 'that' which you have with Reever."

She smiled angelically.

Komui's mouth opened, and he stammered. "Wait—how?"

"You can't hide things from me, Brother. Actually you were a bit careless. I was bringing you coffee yesterday, but looked into your office and saw you were…engaged."

"Ahaha," he said, scratching his neck, "sorry about that."

"Just close your door next time. Nobody but me comes in without knocking, and I'll be sure to knock from now on."

"Ah…that's a good idea…"

"Oh, and Komui," she said, looking up at him sincerely. "I approve."

She gave him another beaming smile and walked out of the infirmary.

Komui coughed, pushed up his glasses, and smiled.

Kanda deposited Allen at a table, careful not to bump Allen's feet on anything.

"This is stupid," Allen sighed. "I can walk, it just really hurts."

Kanda rolled his eyes. "Just enjoy it while you can, Moyashi."

He returned a few minutes later with two bowls of soba.

"No, this is not all," he said before Allen could open his mouth. "It happened to be what was already warm. Lucky me. Jerry is making you lots more food."

"What is he making?" Allen asked eagerly.

"I don't know. I told him you were injured and he said he'd do all your favorites."

Allen sighed rapturously and slurped down soba with as much decorum as a very empty stomach would allow. Jerry, bless him, managed to prepare a half-ton of food in the few minutes it took Allen to finish the soba.

Kanda, eating at a normal pace, finished up when Allen was halfway through the feast.

"What are you doing after this?" Allen asked between bites.

Kanda shrugged.

On the surface, his behavior was the same: snide tones, gestures instead of words, lack of eye contact unless it involved withering looks. But the venom was gone; the defensive, closed-off gaze. The teases were no longer meant to warn Allen off: they were just friendly banter. There was a little more eye contact, and neutral expressions instead of irritation—which for Kanda was practically a smile.

He just looked so open.

"If it weren't for these," Allen gestured to his bandages, "I'd ask to spar with you."

"You still want to do that?"

"You don't?" Allen asked in surprise.

"I do. I just…" Kanda shrugged again. "I wasn't sure."

"Sparring doesn't have to be about violence and competition," Allen laughed. "It can be for improving technique."

"And touching," Kanda said.

Allen choked on his bite and gaped at him.

"What?" Kanda said innocently.

"If you're going to keep saying things like that, I need to eat slower," Allen muttered.

"I'll shut up if you hurry along," Kanda said. "I have a book waiting for me."

"A book, huh?"

"You're acting like you think I can't read," Kanda said, withering stare in full force.

"More like I'm surprised you'd prefer to read when you've got me immobilized and at your mercy in terms of my location."

Kanda's expression widened in surprise. "Oh."

Allen smirked and ate faster.

Lenalee smiled from the doorway. The two were being almost kind to each other. Allen's smiles were crinkling his eyes as they only did when he was content, and Kanda hadn't given one glare yet. He outright chortled at Allen's jokes.

She turned around to leave them to it.

"Not hungry?" Lavi asked from right behind her.

"Don't do that!" she squeaked, grabbing her chest. "No, I was just checking on them."

Lavi grinned. "Shall we play with them?"

"Oh dear."

But she followed him into the dining hall.

"Yuu! You look as sunny as always!" Lavi called.

The man in question turned decidedly more grouchy.

"Fuck off, Usagi," Kanda grunted as the pair sat down.

"Is that any way to treat concerned friends? I can only assume you're here to check up on our little Allen too."

Allen swallowed a mouthful. "Little?"

"Whatever," Kanda said.

"Then what are you doing here, Yuu?" Lavi asked.

"Who are you calling little?" Allen interjected.

"I'm here to eat," Kanda said. "Duh."

Lavi beamed. "Where's your food?"

Kanda looked down, stymied. "I finished."

"And you're still here with our lovely little Allen because…?"

"He's my ride," Allen said with an evil grin. "I hurt my feet. It's lucky I'm so little, or else he wouldn't be able carry me."

"Not true," Kanda barked. "You are not little and I have no problem carrying you."

"Aw, he'll always be our little Allen."

"Will you shut up?" Kanda and Allen exclaimed at once.

They looked at each other.

"Anyway," Lenalee said, "how are you feeling, Allen?"

"I told you: I'm fine." He smiled at her in reassurance. "After this I'm just going to lie down and rest."

"We'll rest with you," Lavi said, while Lenalee inwardly face-palmed. He would always just keep pushing. "I won't even tease you. We were…worried when you disappeared."

"I'm sorry," Allen said with a comforting smile. "I didn't mean to worry anyone."

"What was it that made you run off, really?" Lenalee asked. Allen shifted. "You told Komui—"

"So you'll let us rest with you, right?" Lavi pressed again.

Lenalee glared at him for the interruption, but beneath the table he tapped her shin with his foot. Okay, so this was part of some sort of plan.

"I think I'd rather be alone," Allen said. "But thank you."

"At least let us help you back to your room. We can let Kanda get back to his brooding and relieve him of his duties as your conveyance."

"I'm fine, really," Allen said, while Kanda said, "I do not brood."

"Yes, you do, Yuu, and I'm glad you feel that way, Allen, but you really ought to let your friends help."

"I am letting friends help me," Allen said.

"Kanda is your friend?" Lavi asked. His face was the perfect picture of surprise.

Allen blinked like he'd been caught cheating. Kanda, who sat next to Lenalee, scooted her down the bench and kicked Lavi as soon as he had a clear shot under the table.

"Ow!" Lavi looked at him like a punished puppy. "What was that for?"

"Because you're annoying," Kanda said.

Allen made the mistake of laughing.

Lenalee saw the change in Lavi's eyes: this game had just leveled up.

"You sound delirious, Allen," Lavi said. "I really think we should take you back to your room."

He reached as if to help Allen up.

"I'm still eating!" Allen exclaimed, shoveling food in his mouth.

"Don't worry; Lenalee can carry the food. We won't let you starve. Put your arm around my shoulder, it's easier."

"What are you doing?" Kanda asked, eyebrow raised. He looked like he was observing a circus, and was not at all amused.

"Helping out my friend," Lavi said. "You are relieved of duty, sir."

"I don't get it."

"Oh, come on," Lavi said, looking between them with a conciliatory wave. "You're frenemies at best. Allen doesn't need someone trying to fight him while he's healing."

"Nobody has been fighting anyone," Allen said with an eye roll. ("I do other things, too," Kanda grumbled.)

"Good. I'm pretty sure the nurse on duty would be pissed. Nobody wants that. Have you seen the guy? His name's Pierre and he is gorgeous."

Allen started to speak and stopped mid-word.

"He's what?" Allen asked.

"Pierre is beautiful. You must've seen him when you went to the infirmary earlier. I happen to know his schedule," Lavi said casually. "Thinking of asking him out."

"I didn't know you dated anyone that didn't wear oodles of lipstick," Allen said. "Including men."

"That is very unfair," Lavi pouted. "I'm an equal-opportunity flirt."

"Right. Good for you," Allen said. "Well, I hope it goes well."

Allen was acting normally, but Lenalee glanced at Kanda and could see him beginning to relax. The spotlight was no longer on them; Kanda and Allen didn't have to be on the alert.

Hah. They should know Lavi better.

Lavi stopped pushing to whisk Allen away and the conversation turned mundane. Allen smiled, Kanda sat silently, and Lavi was an attentive friend.

Until Allen finished his food.

Kanda stood up first like he'd been counting the seconds, and Lavi leapt to his feet a moment behind him. But Lavi had the advantage of no table in between them, and turned around to allow Allen to climb on his back—incidentally blocking Kanda's path.

"This kinda feels like we're kids again," Lavi said cheerfully, apparently unaware of the twin frowns aimed at him.

Lenalee sighed. Lavi was clearly trying to push them to some public declaration or other undeniable action. What he was going to get was two Exorcists pissed off at him.

Sure enough, Allen accepted Lavi's help and Kanda turned away, doing that thing where he was both part of the group and not part of it.

They trod the halls in a mismatched clump, Lavi the one person who seemed honestly cheerful. Lenalee was too preoccupied with observing to make conversation, and Allen's smiles were more fake than usual. And Kanda was a blank wall.

She really should've headed Lavi off before this started, but now she wanted to see how it would turn out.

Lavi waited until they stood outside Allen's door to ask, "Why did you come along, Kanda?"

"I'm waiting for you to put the bean down so I can punch you."

Lenalee looked over: Kanda held Mugen's sheath in one hand. Just punching, huh?

"You already kicked me; I'd say we're even. Besides, you've just given me a very good reason not to put your 'bean' down."

Kanda looked like he'd swallowed something too big.

"That 'bean' is right here," Allen said, "and needs to be put down in order to unlock his door. Sorry, Lavi, but you're on your own against him."

"Cold, Allen," Lavi pouted, letting Allen slide off his back.

Lavi didn't bend far enough, or he let go too soon, or something. Allen landed hard and stumbled into the doorframe, knees buckling. Lenalee reached out and Kanda did too, each grabbing an arm.

"Dammit, Lavi, that hurt," Allen hissed. "Shit, I really did slice them open."

"I'm sorry, Allen," Lavi said. Except he wasn't, Lenalee realized. He'd done it on purpose. Well, maybe he hadn't intended for Allen to be in quite that much pain; Lenalee was supporting a lot of Allen's weight, and she was willing to bet Kanda supported the rest.

"What part of 'no walking' didn't you get?" Kanda asked Lavi. He turned to the other two. "Usagi's nurse friend had to contend with chunks of your feet hanging off your soles via torn bits of skin. It was nasty, Walker."

There was a thump behind them. A pale Lavi looked up at them from where he'd collapsed on his knees.

"Can you please not go into so much detail?" Lavi asked meekly.

Kanda made an exasperated noise, took the key Allen proffered, and pushed open the door. The floor was swept and the broken window boarded over, making it darker than usual.

"Hold that." Kanda handed her Mugen and picked Allen up, helping him into the stuffed chair. Lenalee hoisted Lavi up and followed, depositing Lavi on Allen's bed.

"Feet," Kanda said, kneeling in front of Allen.

Allen muttered something that sounded like 'fuck' and kept clenching the armrests. "You got some magical ability to eradicate pain?"

Kanda rolled his eyes, looked over at the freaked-out Lavi, then gave up and looked to Lenalee. "Would you get some water? Please."

"Sure. Allen, do you have a cup or something?"

"A bowl would be better," Kanda said.

She found something that would do and returned from the small bathroom with it full.

"Thanks," Allen said. He was still wincing and digging his fingers into the chair. Lavi needed to be hit over the head.

All the taps in the Order, unless designed otherwise, emitted ice-cold water due to the source being right there in the basement—a fresh spring which provided the river they used for transport. It was handy, but it was also frigid.

Kanda had gotten most of the bandaging off Allen's feet—they no longer looked like cottonballs; just like he was wearing gauzy socks. Multi-colored socks. Lots of red.

"Wow," Lavi said in a weak voice from the bed. Even though she'd seen the wounds before they were cleaned, Lenalee agreed with the sentiment. (Minus the squeamishness. Honestly, Lavi could do battle just fine, but as soon as the adrenaline wore off, the mere mention of blood made him faint.)

Allen put his feet in the cold water and hissed, but he released his death grip on the chair.

"That'll help the bleeding, too," Kanda said. He touched Allen's ankle as if to inspect it, but there was nothing to inspect. The wounds were all on the bottoms of Allen's feet.

From walking across glass. By choice, and apparently without any dire reason like an akuma attack.

Allen really was going to get himself prematurely killed.

Watching them, she wondered how Kanda would handle Allen's suicidal tendencies. Usually they were in the name of selflessness, but Kanda was not the type to be moved by the 'higher calling' shit. He'd be pissed. Maybe he'd convince Allen to stay alive.

Then she tuned into their quiet conversation.

"My own dumb fault," Allen was murmuring. "I really oughtn't complain."

"You shouldn't," Kanda agreed. "Or maybe you should because wounds hurt and that's just how it is."

"Doesn't mean I have to involve everyone else in my woes."

"You're the one who always says that's why friendship exists."

"As if you'd know anything about opening up about your pain," Allen retorted.

"I'm trying." Kanda busied himself folding the extra bandaging. "I'm doing my best."

"You're improving," Allen acknowledged. Then— "Thank you."

This seemed to be for something the two of them both knew about, because Kanda looked up seriously and nodded.

"I got a prize, remember?" Kanda said with a smirk.

"You're twelve." Allen said this louder, leaning back in the chair. "I'm sorry I swore at you, Lavi. I know it wasn't your fault."

"It was," Lavi said, this time genuinely sorry, "but Kanda gave me my comeuppance."

"You all are so annoying," Lenalee said.

The three boys looked at her.

"Lavi's not going to leave you two alone unless you give him what he wants. I'm leaving, because I have respect for people's privacy and know when it's time to go."

She shot Lavi a look. He smiled and winked at her. Ugh, and when he gave her that look, it was all too easy to forgive him for being a snoop.

"Whatever," she huffed, and walked to the door. "Oh." She turned around and tossed the key she still held at Kanda. "You'll want that so you can lock Lavi out."

Kanda laid it carefully next to Mugen on the floor. Lenalee closed the door.

She waited outside for a few minutes before it opened again. Lavi saw her, pulled the door closed, and whispered, "Of course you're still here. See, you enjoy it too."

"Did you get what you wanted?" she asked.

"Kanda decided the best way to make me go away was to ignore me. So he gave all his attention to shortstack in there and was asking sincere questions about his pain and such and giving sincere answers. I've never seen anything like it. Better than a monkey doing tricks."

"Lavi!" She cuffed his head. "What else?"

"That was it. I watched Allen giving him moon-eyes for a bit and decided it was time to leave."

"In other words, Kanda and Allen won."

"Not really. They are absolutely together."

She grinned. "Took them long enough."

"Now who's the schemer? You've been setting them up since the beginning."

"At least I don't drop injured people on the floor."

"I did not mean to drop him that hard," Lavi said righteously. "Besides, now Kanda has an excuse to get all motherly on him."

"Yes, I'm sure that's why they wanted to be alone," she snorted.

Allen eventually got Kanda to stop fussing. It turned out that Kanda, firstly, knew a lot about triage and, secondly, was overly concerned about the paleness of Allen's skin.

"I don't feel remotely faint," Allen had insisted three times before Kanda relented. "This is just what I look like. Besides, I took a nap earlier."

"For about five minutes, Moyashi, and you spent most of the time in my arms spouting nonsense. It doesn't count."

But he stopped listlessly moving around and sat on the floor beside Allen's chair.

There was another chair in the room, and Allen was about to point this out when Kanda put his head on Allen's knee.

After a moment, Allen stroked through the roots of his hair. Kanda closed his eyes.

Allen kept combing through his hair, watching in fascination as Kanda went progressively more catlike—liquid and purring.

He almost thought Kanda was asleep when Kanda spoke.

"Lavi knows we're dating. He dropped you on purpose."

"How does he know?" Allen asked. "Wait, no he didn't. That was accidental."

"It was definitely on purpose, to see what we'd do."

"No, Lavi's not that mean."

"You are being incredibly naïve," Kanda said.

"You're being incredibly pessimistic," Allen replied, running his fingers around the edge of Kanda's ear and down his neck.

"Hmph. That—"

"Kanda," Allen interrupted, pulling his hand away so Kanda could look up.

As soon as he did, Allen kissed him.

"That's my retort," Allen said. "What's yours?"

Kanda grumbled, "Baka," rose up on his knees to slide his hands over Allen's shoulders, and kissed him much, much deeper.

They kissed for a long time, Allen feeling down the warm skin of Kanda's throat, Kanda sliding his fingers over the underside of Allen's arm. Moving with casual slowness, Kanda kissed along the line of Allen's jaw, a sensation that sent sparks through Allen's body. When he reached Allen's neck, he trailed down, warm breaths heavy on Allen's throat. Allen's fingers slipped down into the collar of Kanda's shirt, between sharp clavicles and to the edge of uncharted territory.

Kanda paused, panting against Allen's skin, then pulled back.

"Your feet," he said with difficulty.

Allen wanted to laugh at Kanda's attempt at normalcy when he was so clearly affected, but he was too caught by how beautiful Kanda was.

"Moyashi," Kanda said, lifting Allen's ankle. "Shouldn't be in the cold for too long, or it causes damage."

"How do you know?" Allen asked as Kanda moved the bowl away. "You heal ridiculously quickly."

"Yes, well, there are reasons for that," Kanda said. "Doesn't mean I'm wrong. General Teodore insisted on proper field medicine, and Daisya was always getting himself hurt. I have lots of practice."

"I'm just a bundle of bad memories for you, aren't I?"

Kanda focused on Allen's feet, unwrapping the wet gauze and replacing it. But when he looked up, he was smirking.

"I know how to make some better ones."

Allen blushed.

When Kanda returned from pouring out the pinkish water, Allen sat on his bed with his back against the wall, eyes closed.

"Did you just walk, Moyashi?"

"Kanda, I'm not helpless. I'm going to have to walk a little bit or daily life won't happen. Besides," Allen shifted to grip the bedframe and lifted himself up with one hand, "I don't need my feet as long as there's furniture."

Kanda could only roll his eyes. Allen had nice arms.

When he cautiously perched on the edge of the bed, Allen motioned Kanda to join him.

"I'm not going to crane my neck to look at you," Allen said.

"You don't have to look at me."

"I like looking at you. You're nice to look at."

Kanda had no words for that. He dutifully slid back so he was sitting beside Allen, and Allen took his hand.

"Are you going to keep calling me Moyashi?"

"Maybe." Kanda smirked. "What are you going to do about it, Walker?"

"You could call me Allen, like a normal person."

"Walker sounds better. Moyashi sounds best."

"The sound matters? So I suppose you think Yuu isn't musical or something."

"Yuu is like a number," Kanda grunted. "It means nothing and I didn't choose it. It was given to me arbitrarily; it could've been given to any of several dozen other kids."

Allen's eyes widened. "You really did have tons of siblings?"

"Not siblings. I don't want to talk about it."

Allen accepted this and played with Kanda's fingers.

"General Teodore is very proud of having come up with a surname that you liked," Allen said. "So I know where that name comes from."

"It's a good name. I like my name," Kanda said defensively. "You can't talk: I heard your general gave you your surname."

"I never said it was a bad name. Kanda fits you well."

"Good. Then keep calling me that."

Allen laughed. "I will. Or maybe I'll call you Ingenmame in retaliation."

"Stringbean? That's not even insulting."

"Yet somehow I think it'll bug the hell out of you." Allen grinned.

Kanda grunted. Maybe it would. But maybe, coming from Allen, it wouldn't.

Allen shifted onto his side, watching him.

"What are you thinking?" Allen asked.

"Who cares?"

"I do."

Kanda stared at him, their faces much closer thanks to Allen's new position. Suddenly Allen rolled the rest of the way, swinging a leg over Kanda's lap and putting them face-to-face, his hands on Kanda's shoulders.

"What's…" Kanda's voice scratched and he coughed.

"So this is what it's like," Allen mused.

"What?"

"When you have to tilt your head up to look at me," Allen grinned.

Kanda snorted in good humor, arms wrapping around Allen's waist. "I never noticed."

"Yeah right," Allen said, bending his head.

Kanda didn't bother retorting, thoughts dissolving as they kissed. Allen was rapidly getting more confident in his own abilities, sucking on Kanda's lip, biting him, moving after a while to nibble on his ear. Kanda couldn't catch his breath. He ran his hands over Allen's back for a while before taking Allen's red hand again and grasping it tightly. Any time he touched that hand, Allen's mouth curled into a smile against his skin. Kanda liked it.

As they moved against each other, he tried to remember that Allen had wounds, blood loss. But luckily Allen, perched on Kanda's thighs and very much in control, kept things slow.

At one point he extracted his hands and framed Kanda's face. It was a little strange to feel on one cheek hot skin and on the other cool ceramic, but it was also distinctly Allen, and something Kanda would never forget. Nobody else would ever feel this way, because Allen was unique, and kissing him was unique, and no matter what happened this would always be its own special thing.

Allen gazed at him for a long time, a deep and many-layered smile on his face. Happy, intrigued, satisfied.

"Yes?" Kanda asked after a while, running his hands over Allen's legs. When he reached Allen's waist, he kept going up, over stomach and chest, watching the path of his fingers.

"It feels really good…" Allen faltered and started again. "This is much better than fighting all the time."

"I still want to fight you," Kanda said.

"Yes, but not all the time."

"Of course not. This is more fun." He leaned up and kissed Allen's lips, then his scarred cheek, then the pentagram on his brow.

Allen sighed and leaned closer with a hand on Kanda's chest.

"Let me know if you get tired," Kanda murmured.

"I am, but I don't want to stop."

Kanda rolled his eyes. "It's not like I'll never kiss you again."

Allen raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Christ, Moyashi, you really have trust issues. I thought we established I like you."

"All of…" Allen hesitated.

"Yes. You aren't bad looking like you seem to think," Kanda grumbled.

"I've never caught you staring at me across a hall."

"That's because you thought I was glaring."

Allen laughed.

"Kanda, you are a wonderful creature."

"I never know if you're insulting me," Kanda huffed.

"Not this time." Allen kissed his temple. "Besides, I'm trying to induce you to stick around. I need to take a nap, and I don't want to wake up and think this didn't happen."

Kanda rolled his eyes. "I'll stay here, Baka. You just had to ask."

Smiling, Allen shook his head and moved to lie down, curling with his head on Kanda's leg.

"One sec." Kanda reached to the nightstand and picked up the book lying there. West-Asian history. Should be interesting.

They settled down again and Kanda began running his fingers through Allen's hair as Allen had done to him earlier. Allen let out a contented hum.

Kanda was just getting into the book when something hit the door with a thump. As Allen jolted awake, Kanda gripped his shoulder to quiet him, stood silently, and retrieved Mugen from the floor.

There was another thump, and Kanda swung the door open a second after it, drawing his sword.

A golden light shot past him into the room and collided with the center of Allen's chest.

"Shit—" Kanda slammed the door to trap the thing, and leapt across the floor.

Allen was laughing.

"It's Tim," he chuckled. "Calm down, Kanda."

"Your golem is a weird color."

"You've worked with us how many times? Stop making excuses: I already knew you were paranoid," Allen teased.

Kanda scowled.

"Where have you been, Tim?" Allen asked, cupping the golem in his hands. "I was waiting for you. Kanda found me first."

Tim bared tiny teeth, made as if to chomp on Allen's nose, then curled up on his chest instead.

"I get it, I'm sorry," Allen said. "I won't leave you next time. Although you were the one who hid."

Timcanpy beat Allen's chest with his wings—Allen winced.

"Again, I'm sorry. I'm really glad you're okay. I missed you."

The golem finally settled down, half-tucked between the buttons of Allen's shirt, and Kanda put Mugen away, returning to his spot. As soon as he sat, Timcanpy turned to regard him with what was definitely a suspicious stare.

"Don't get mad," Allen told Tim. "I'm dating him now. You have to get along."

Tim sat back down but continued to stare at Kanda. Kanda wasn't sure if this were good or bad, but at least the thing was calm.

Petting Tim's head, Allen tugged Kanda closer and closed his eyes again.

"Keep doing that thing," he murmured sleepily. "That was nice."

Kanda smiled. When he picked up his book, he gave Tim a look and seemed to come to an understanding with the little thing. When he touched Allen's hair again, Tim bobbed as if nodding, curled his wings, and promptly fell asleep.

"I love you, Kanda," Allen murmured. "I didn't mention it before. But I do."

Kanda grinned wide; he couldn't help it.

"Go to sleep already, Moyashi."