Disclaimer: DGrayMan is copyrighted to Hoshino Katsura. I make no monies off this fic, except to polish my writing skills and exercise my imagination.
A/N as of 03/2018: Edited for fluidity and clarity. Tyki Mikk and Road Kamelot find themselves in one heck of a tangle… Or is it only in the imagination of one of them? Might one Noah be screwing with the mind of another Noah, or is everything an unfortunate accident? Never prod the Noah of Pleasure about exorcists he doesn't like. On the other hand, the Noah of Dreams has a mind none of her Noah family members can fathom. Brushing the border of Tyki Mikk x Road Kamelot.
Hey Mister Sandman, sing me a song
Ah, bliss was being in a different wing from Jasdero, Debitto and Skin. Given how these occasional family sleepovers turned out whenever those Noah clan members were involved, the unstable twins would purposely break any rules to pull a Jasdevi and rile Skin, thereby resulting in many holes and grins and chaos, as it became a game of bumpy things smashing and stabbing and firing in the night. A certain section of the Millennium Earl's Ark was perpetually in a state of reconstruction.
But not tonight. Tonight, he would relax in the security of safe indulgence, without having to do anything. Basking in a special collection of literature unknown to the world's scholars, who would be drooling like mindless hounds over some of these tomes… Not that there was anything else to do here today, dinners and discussions of dulldeebiedoo notwithstanding.
Stone walls radiated warm hues, due to a layer of damask wallpaper the shade of a ripe aubergine just plucked off the stalk. Lush cream carpeting protected bare toes from potential cold. A bedside lamp rooted into the wall arching up and over to resemble a withered rose emitted a comfortable intensity of soft yellow light. An antiquated four-poster king bed was piled high with a fat mattress and white pillows and Prussian blue blankets, soft sheets snugly tucked in, a hint of crispness from being newly purchased. Plum bled into white, sheer sheets of Japanese hand-dyed gauze hanging unfettered to caress all sides of the bed. Gold gilded accents dusted the designs of Dante's Inferno carved into black aged teakwood. Marvellous. Screaming faces frozen in eternal agony and fear added a sweet homey touch.
It was a pity the desk and rocking chair didn't share the same sentiment, standing as a naked plain pale yellow the colour of freshly bleached lemons, and equally scentless. Logs had been recently added to the fireplace, giving reddish flames a nice amber glow as they happily chomped up the wood and pulled a few comedic faces in the process.
A faint shriek from somewhere distant induced a glare from the sole occupant in this room, ignoring the fiery figures dancing quietly atop little piles of ashes.
Hell, he could put up with these occasional get-togethers for the sake of Road.
Yes, Road, apple of the Earl's eye. The family's eyes, to be more exact. She behaved as if she were the youngest of them all, but she might just be the smartest. Able to get akuma to like her without trying, noticing little details while disarmingly playful, and capable of the most precise and unpredictable mood swings… It was only when she became mischievous, whereby the girl-qualities-on-display would vanish, allowing glimpses of the woman she refused to physically reveal becoming sadistically or lovingly evident. Delightfully vicious in a dignified manner, armed with cool wisdom and detached control far beyond a mere mortal's imagination, her lips were always disarmingly innocent, poised in the hint of a smile. But those predatory eyes were as impenetrable as ever, regardless of the mood. Sometimes, he felt as if he was staring into mirrors of-
'Tyki?'
His newly-acquired book was still open to the chapter index. Quickly flipping past thirty-odd pages, he did not bother to look up at the gentle rapping on his door, while flippantly responding with a tinge of exasperation. 'What do you want now, Road?'
'Can I come in?'
The subject of his musing sounded amazingly polite and demure and un-Noah-like. Curiosity got the better of him, thus he agreed.
A veritable whirlwind of pointy hair and barely-restrained energy greeted him, prancing in and hopping onto the bed without saying a single word. She sat there cross-legged, eyes downcast and a pout that went nowhere, as the seconds started to tick by. Huh? Oh wait, wait for the storm to break…
'GYAAAAAH! I'M BOOOOOOOOOOOORED! The Earl took Lero and the twins and Skin are tearing up the east wing and I can't participate otherwise I'll mess up this new nightgown which was a present from him and get scolded and- I'm having NO fun and you're hiding away! Entertain me!'
Her ability to vocalise run-on sentences without stopping to breathe never ceased to impress him. Not taking his eyes off the book, he casually flipped the page. Pillows might start flying at any moment, which were preferable to her candles.
'Firstly, GYAH is not the response of a lady and is something I do not usually receive from the fairer sex. As to the second, go change into something else and then take part, without bothering me. And thirdly, learn to say 'please'.'
'Tyyyyyyyyyyyyyyki…'
He looked up, hearing an irritatingly familiar nasal whine in her voice, which usually did not bode well for anyone being the target of its attention. 'What?'
'Why are you being more distantly polite than usual, towards me?'
That got his attention. What was she on about? His question got him a sharp thwack across the head with her rag doll, nearly rendering him cross-eyed.
'Ehhh? Don't you know what I'm asking? Unless you're a dumbass, you're trying to pretend or you're unaware of it, you've been-'
The rest of what she said was an eye-opener, almost like throwing oil onto hot coals, or shoving a gong into his ears. Him? More fake than usual? What? What had inspired this nonsense? He was not in the mood for tolerating mischief. His stare was starting to take on a more menacing quality, not that it had been kind to begin with.
The swing of her arm and the doll was stopped by his hand closing over her wrist.
'No. More.' Or else was the unspoken warning in a terse expression.
He might have been unintentionally considering murder and channeling it without restraint, judging from the way dark blue eyes widened in response, a slight shiver shaking her arm and her posture starting to hunch over slightly, like a flower closing up- His hand tightened around a small wrist, making her gasp from the pressure. But her chin was resolutely jutting out, if pursed lips now set into a stubborn line were any indication to go by.
'You've always been the only one who tolerates all my moods, even though the Earl puts up with my pranks. But I don't know what's gotten into you recently, Tyki. Yet I know what I've said is true. Is it something I've done? Is that why you're s-so… so… to me?'
To see a currently not-so-confident Road Kamelot struggling to pull the balancing act of pride and pleading and bravado at the same time was as rare as an akuma farting. And he knew she cared about him as an individual, not just because they were family. Very much so, to be having this type of mood. He could not deny being pleased, with this reaffirmation. But he didn't want to think about her words either. They treaded water on the surface of his consciousness, which protected his subconscious from deeper analysis. He had never liked complexities or deep analysis. Danger, Will Robinson, Danger was the clang of caution at perilous possibly unrealised truth, which could make him v- v- Gyah-
He'd been reading too many drag queen adventure novels set in the world of white water rafting and writing. Releasing her wrist, he smiled and picked up the book before spreading his arms outwards, in a sort of apologetic shrug and indication conveying everything was alright and whatever else this over-used human gesture was supposed to do in the realm of friendly appeasement.
'How about I read you a story? This omnibus makes for terrific bedtime comfort.'
To see her lighten up considerably, as if a light bulb had been switched on, as she hurled herself into his embrace with a squeal of happiness? Her joy brushed a glaze of calm over the entire setting. He wrapped his arms about her and brought the book closer to them. Sitting straighter so her hair would stop poking his nose, even as she wriggled a little to try and get comfortable, this might almost be some sort of bliss. To make Road quiet and amenable and listening like a little child sucking on candy apples was nothing short of a miracle. And selecting a tale about werewolves, he brought it to life.
His voice morphed into the coldly biting winds, relentless frost, savagery and fierce guardianship of closeness between those in the pack as they travelled across a barren landscape seeking something they could not yet define. Despair snapped at their heels, and they found no place suitable for respite. The hours rose, the storm fell, and they finally came across a cabin. There, they found an old lady abandoned with her deformed grandson, both dying of starvation. Her offer was to sing them a song, in return for a quick death. And the words spoke of life and suffering and war and hate and regret, before melting into peace and solitude and eternal glory. Of love lost, of chances squandered, of destroyed hopes, of hidden fears that healed in a song of the night. Images shaped by her song maddened the pack, for they revived a past long-forgotten. And the werewolves pounced on the humans, tearing them apart in a bloody frenzy. After eating, they howled a funeral dirge to celebrate all night long.
'l.. Knowing who they were tasted like the turn of the seasons, while delighting in the lust of the hunt, and falling in love. It was deliciously like coming home. The End. FIN.'
'…'
'That's the ending? It's crummily sappy! Are you a closet romantic? Then again, it sounds like something Allen Walker would say. Except he wouldn't use the word 'lust'. Not Allen-kun, ahahaha-'
The story was sour on his tongue and his arms felt like lead, as he watched her eyes take on a lively sparkle, while giggling at her own words. And it involved what he didn't want to analyse, which was a boot to his face due to her merriment.
Allen. Goddamn (pardon his french). Walker.
Ever since facing off against the exorcist only once, she'd been mentioning him rather frequently in all things related to the Earl's plans. And worse than that, it was starting to extend to non-related things, where the family plans were concerned. Oh yes, the cheerful teenager with white hair, an excess of being cutely nauseatingly polite, and a diabolical cardsharp. Road always demanded to have first dibs with him at family meals, and that exorcist could make her blabber like a love-struck lunatic without even being present- Wait, love? More like crush. It had to be a crush at most, since it was only one short encounter. She must have messed greatly with his mind and enjoyed the results, for her to be this fascinated. After all, she was the Noah who despised humans most easily, and didn't think twice about killing them.
He wished she would shut up about this current subject.
'… are you even listening? Uh, Tyki, are you gritting your teeth, 'cos it's making your chin a bit wrinkly?'
'You brat, if you don't shut up… I will have… to… TICKLE YOU!'
The bed nearly exploded in a flurry of limbs and rumpled blankets and a shower of pillows, shrieks punctuated with gasps of laughter as the smaller girl tried to scramble away from her amused companion without really trying. And the man had a hard time holding on to a wriggly bundle of impishness whose unpolished kicking tendencies tended to strike sore spots, if not careful. He paused in mid-tickle, as another observation suddenly struck him.
'Why are you wearing your white side's appearance? We're on free and easy turf. And where are your stripy socks, even though the Earl bought you a nightgown- of- ahehehe-'
Said nightgown had long sleeves and was peachy, with a smattering of wispy lace at the cuffs and buttons and bottom of the short sleepwear. Above all, it was demure, dainty and dull. Not her style. Knowing Road, she wouldn't have put it on willingly. Not unless she'd done something that got on their leader's nerves. The very thought was enough to nearly make Tyki Mikk grin, so he settled for a chuckle.
'Well, I and Lero accidentally ate up his favourite jar of jam without his permission. Cloudberries. It was only a small portion, and not a lot for two people but really yummy! However, he sure threw a snit! He wouldn't help me with my homework, and he didn't approve of the sleepover this time. However, he said he'd let it go, provided I wear this thingie without socks and put on the appearance for the whole of tonight… While being a good girl. And he said he'd know if I cheated. This SUCKS!'
He tweaked her nose affectionately, even as she wrinkled it in distaste at being disciplined. Being ordered to be good was one of the worst punishments ever. That earned him a cursory glance, and a narrowing of eyes. Her features relaxed and became less petulant to reflect a runaway train of musing.
'On the other hand, I'm somewhat dressed like you tonight. Your white silk shirt and black pants- So BORING. You dress like those pathetic humans you value, even the exorcists… kinda like Allen-kun… but he's so interesting, unlike his dress sense…'
Seeing how lost in thought she was, how expressive her range of emotions became when absorbed in a scrawny human, it rankled. The drumming of blood was starting to pound in his ears. Playfulness gone and relaxing his grip on her, slowly inching back and increasing the distance between them until he was almost at the opposite end of the bed, he wasn't sure what he was feeling now. It was a murky maelstrom of emotions and thoughts that whirled and fused but never quite fit together properly. However, it finally threatened to boil over.
'Falling in love is deliciously like coming home, eh… I wonder what it's like. And if Allen-kun knows what that is…'
Her words were now lighter and dreamy, her arms on either side towards opposite ends of the bed with palms up, her gaze fixed on an elaborate plaster ceiling but vision focused beyond, and her eyes… not guarded but so honestly, plainly, merely being- Speech had dried and shrivelled into a clogging crust at the back of his throat. The drums were too loud. His chest was heavy. To be shown a non-Noah meant something to Road was beyond description, except for the bitter tang that lingered. Was she really- truly- If only she would just stop. She was meant for far better, and not light white trash!
Speaking of stopping, he should have voiced it again because that was something she was clearly not doing tonight, and each word was a pin in a pinned cushion being anything but cushy. And with each stab, bitterness rippled and spread and ripped at something that reacted, turning into sourness and- What was this sensation?
'.. But you know? He had a good chance to win. But he didn't, with his weapon to my head and one shot to end it all. As I left them behind, I glanced back. And I saw… he… He was crying, despite his anger. And his face- As if his tears might not just have been for what I did, or that in another time and place we could have been friends, but- just maybe- he cried-'
Her voice was barely a whisper.
'For me. If only…'
A suspicious film glimmered in oceanic depths, as they stared unblinkingly upwards. And in this moment, seeing the 9th Apostle so vulnerable she might as well be naked, Tyki would have marvelled, but the only word he could think of was 'damp'. To know that no one had ever been able to reduce her to this, in this teardrop of time, making her remember she was not only a Noah… Not a super-human enemy to the exorcists. Not a destroyer of this world. Not a million other things which could be heaped upon her head and she didn't care.
Road Kamelot was a human girl with dreams and not afraid to love.
Even if she might not be aware of it yet- The sheer beauty and potential of what had been revealed to him, courtesy of an enemy he barely knew and now absolutely loathed, was too much. A message he had taken for granted in bits and pieces all along did a boomerang back into his awareness. Only this time, immense simplicity was a giant fan of light that batted hard and goddamndidthegoodhurt- The weight in his chest pulsed like molten lava, burning as if he had been pierced by one of his own Teases and was being eaten alive from the inside out. Hand pressed tightly to the centre where it stung, the lone witness to her rambling slowly keeled over. Only one hand digging into the bedsheets kept his face from kissing the mattress.
'T-Tyki? What's wrong? Why are you- Is it your chest? I'll get the Earl-'
Swallowing hard, taking a deep breath and trying to speak without giving away any of what he was going through, he shook his head and kept his gaze averted. 'Just sing. Something. Anything.'
'What?'
Worry and what-the-fuck was written all over her face. Not that he could tell, since he wasn't looking. No, Tyki Mikk had more important things to worry about, such as not revealing a suddenly realised Achilles heel which had so nicely slapped him in the face with all the sweetness of a ninja ambush. Then again, he couldn't remember whether Road had much singing capability when it came to improvisation (so it might not have been the best of distractions) but his reeling mind was grasping at straws. His worlds of light and dark were threatening to lose balance and implode into each other with all the grace of enraged killer whales, thereby sinking his entire ship of sanity.
'eitherdoitorjust- Get. Out.'
Perhaps she was unsure of what was happening, seeing how white the knuckles of his hand blanched while fingertips were obscured by the bedsheets, and since Tyki was in a weirdly scary mood that might result in hurting himself… She chose not to leave him alone. Not yet. He refused to look at her face.
'Hey Mister Sandman, sing me a song'
Her childish voice was not having any calming effect on his current inner tantrum. Allen Walker. His entire being seethed, remembering that annoying lad. Just as she was singing to Tyki now, he would sing to that damned exorcist. Sing a song of ruin and torment and delicious agony culminating in death from his Teases. Revenge for the excruciatingly bothersome pins he was enduring now, disgust and resentment and other untold-as-yet emotions stewing and bubbling up from whichever asshole had first birthed them at the dawn of time. It would be wonderful when the cause of his current state perished, the Innocence destroyed. Ripping out that heart would be delicious.
What was so special about that runt?! He would rather be damned than let an exorcist obtain their family treasure. One could finally thank the Millennium Earl for giving him the card with that sickening name. If the Black Order thought their general Yeegar had been given a terrible turn of fate, they ain't seen nothin' yet. Oh. Yesssssssss.
The urge to ravage, even the watered-down pleasure from the prospect of doing so, was an incredible turn-on.
'If you're gonna play with me all night long…'
Road always sang with a high-pitched singsong clarity as clean as the drop of a coin, although a nervous undercurrent shimmered beneath each drawn-out intonation this time, giving the off-key ballad a pleasant charm of its own. Chanting the two lines repeatedly might have been her way of trying to calm more than just him. And it helped to provide and re-establish some stability to whatever had been about to hijack his peaceful existence. The magnitude of his reaction was rather surprising.
Gently easing his grip on the bedclothes, he allowed himself to collapse on the mattress and roll over, hand no longer pushing into his flesh, merely resting. And he found himself surprised, as she lifted and moved his hand aside in hers, bending over to place one ear to his chest to obviously check his heartbeat. Such contact startled him, and he didn't quite understand why. Where he would have previously ruffled her hair and laughingly told her not to worry, why was he finding it difficult to move… and was it getting a tad too warm? He needed to organise himself, regain time to think properly. He was still in a precarious state. Right and wrong were tenuous and if he of all the Noahs didn't have some sort of adherence to stability, who would?
'W-Where'd you get the song from?'
'Huh? Well, the words were on the back of your book and the only thing I could skim without squinting lots, so I improvised. Fast. Not too bad, eh?'
She beamed at him. He would have said something, except for being somewhat distracted by her head on his chest, with one hand on his stomach. One of her legs rested on his inner thigh, the other knee carelessly between his outstretched legs.
'Oh.'
'Is that all you have to say, not that I'm even sure how I sound?! Anyway, are you better? What's the matter?'
Dark blue met gold, and the gaze of neither side flinched at how neither one was sure as to what was going on. Or to be less diplomatic, each of them were obviously preoccupied with different issues. Road was probably trying to figure out why her handsome but almost impossible-to-decipher bedtime nanny and uncle had given her a major fright related to potential heart problems, and possibly some white hairs. Tyki was trying to figure out how to gracefully eject her from the room within the next ten seconds or at the very least, off him ASAP or he was going to be very embarrassed.
Swallowing hard and clearing his throat, he inhaled and opened his mouth to speak. And forgot to exhale as slim fingers brushed his cheek, gentle touch short-circuiting any coherent thoughts he had previously been regaining. This was not funny. She was now sitting up and looking at him with the sombreness of an adult.
'Are you ok?'
'Yes, sort of.' Unspoken was his desire of Let me get away from you and I'll be just fine.
Eyebrows scrunched towards each other and nose crinkled in disbelief, she leaned closer, peering at his face in fierce scrutiny. And the girl was back, thankfully displacing the woman. 'You are a bit pale, but your cheeks are starting to look flushed. It might be a fever. Or stress. But as long as-'
'Really? I'm fine.' Unspoken was his gritted inner exclamation of And I'll be even better, if you'd shut up in the process. Especially about Allen Walker.
As two paths of thought fought for dominance, his traitorous mind chose the third path. Irrelevance. And somehow became relevant again. Namely: Oh, fuck. I can't be doing this. She's so…
And then Road Camelot drew back slightly and smiled, displaying a serene maturity that radiated gentle care and sweet obliviousness. By now, someone with more worldly awareness would be backing away or at the very least, become wary because of the signs Tyki Mikk was demonstrating. Not Road. Not when her family had done too darn good a job at ensuring her safety and hence ignorance in such matters. She would not suspect her own family, where this was concerned. She remained where she was, fingers on his cheek, and expressed what could possibly be the corniest line suitable.
'As long as you're ok, I'm happy.'
And got to him. His emotional response was equally corny and clichéd. She's so beautiful.
It was as if the age-old discord between his two sides fit perfectly with that thought. And he couldn't tear away his gaze, couldn't run, couldn't resist the treachery his protective and honourable intentions failed to keep at bay. Now incredibly aware of slender curves and alluring lines temptingly emphasised but not concealed in a short nightgown, the expense of exposed leg and how trustingly innocent she was, the Noah of Pleasure couldn't be more blessed and cursed at this instance. The threshold between adolescent and woman. Hm. Mm.
Pulling himself up into a more dignified position, he closed his eyes. One hand closed over hers, removing her touch from his cheek and intertwining their fingers, brought their connection to rest on the bed. A tic had appeared above the left eyebrow, lips straightened into a grim line, and his features were oddly contorted, as if poised with indecision of what expression to make.
Our Millennium Earl might kill me.
Might. Not Will. Oh dear. That settled it.
Dark lashes lifted to reveal a shade of amber that was frighteningly compelling. All superficial charm and politeness had been discarded. What was left was raw, dangerous and undeniable.
Ignoring the look of ?, his gaze remained on her chin, the other hand drifting up to touch it. Index finger resting beneath the tip, thumb slowly running along the tender pink of her lower lip, the sudden shift in his demeanour was somewhat unnerving. He seemed almost… hungry?
'Road, remember how you had a certain question for me…' His voice was hoarse and almost raspy, slow and drawn-out, as if opening an iron gate thickly coated with rust.
'…and then you were concerned over what's been happening here?' That strange edge flaked away with each second to become slower, softer, darker, silkier and sharper.
'You see, I've been in pain…' His gaze captured her wide-eyed confusion, his body language belying a surety without refusal or regret for what was to happen next. The power of his focus was instinct, and instinct had been sorely tested this night.
'So much pain...' There was a pause to take a deep breath, stiff shoulders relaxing.
'And you can help me ease it… only if... like…' While saying it, he pulled her hand above and past his head, in a movement somewhat reminiscent of a pas de deux just before grasping, supporting and dipping the partner.
'Coming home.'
And before she could draw breath to ask or answer as she fell towards him, his lips and warmth stopped it all. In one smooth motion, he had rolled her over onto her back, his other hand on her waist, one leg between hers, and their entwined fingers landed on a pillow.
And it was almost scary. Sublime. Shattering. Sticky. Soul-shaking. Sweet.
Fiery figures were ignored by the ever-changing shadows cast against the walls, an untended fire eventually dying down.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
He shot up, a cold sweat not helping the fact that it was too hot.
What the heck was that?!
The book was open to chapter eighteen, on page six. The bed was still impeccable. A few crumbs from the lingonberry-broccoli-black-pepper with maple-syrup-glazed cupcake dotted the plate lying next to the bedside lamp. He was still thankfully sane, even if his clothes were damp from reacting to th- This was the last time he was trying anything Road and Lero baked for supper, after being painstakingly begged by them to try a little. At least he didn't have a stomach ache. Shaking his head while suppressing a shudder, it was exhausting to realise how affected he had been, experiencing the vortex of mental and emotional tension created by this ridiculous nightmare.
As if Road would behave like an innocent, jabbering child! As if reality, much less Road, oldest and most calculating of all the Noah family members (if one discounted the Millennium Earl and The Fourteenth), would conform to what his imagination had created. As if he would be attracted, compelled to touch a mere slip of a girl or do more than that. He was no paedophile or hebephile. And he was completely against incest. Where was mouthwash and brain bleach, when needed?
For now, sleep. And tomorrow, he would leave the Ark, returning to the mines and a day of simplicity.
Undressing and about to turn in, light footfalls followed what sounded like snatches of verbal conversation outside his room. As they neared his door, the Noah of Pleasure recognised the steady rhythm and clatter of shoes as Road's footsteps. The Noah of Dreams didn't stop at his room but continued without faltering, walking past. What she'd been merrily half-singing gave him a chill and uneasy heat to accompany him through the rest of the night.
'Hey Mister Sandman, sing me a song
If you're gonna play with me all night long
And when you see a cuckoo bird, let 'im know…'
