Never truly alone
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Pairing: Lavi x Yuu (don't like, don't read)
Warnings: slight shonen-ai, slightly OOC, mentioning of rape (Notice: neither Lavi nor Yuu are raped here!!)
Rating: M, just to be sure and for swearing, mentioning of rape and for some violence.
Disclaimer: I do not own -Man, and Lavi and Yuu don't belong to me, everything else does. I sadly do not make any money with this.
Author's Note: I am not from an English speaking country and I only had English in school, so please excuse any mistakes. If there is something you don't understand or there are grammar or word mistakes please pm me.
This is my fist fanfic on . Please read and review!
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He swayed on his feet as he stood up carefully. The train came screeching to a halt and he angrily swatted away the hands of the finder who wanted to help him. He glared at him and made his way out of the otherwise empty compartment leaving behind a seat stained with blood and dirt.
The mission had been accomplished in under a week just as he had planned it. But Kanda had received more injuries than he thought he would.
The information from Komui had said that he would have to deal with level ones and a few level twos at most. A finder near a small village in Germany had reported the Akumas and a wave of killings that went around the town.
But instead of lower levels the Japanese had encountered several level threes as well. Fighting them had cost him a lot of strength and normally such a mission would have needed at least two exorcists to carry it out. Swearing under his breath he departed the train. Any other person would've long fainted from the severe injuries, and if not from those then from staying awake for days in a row, only catching a few minutes of sleep in between.
But he would rather stay awake all the time than risk being slaughtered in his sleep.
As if a simple barrier made by some stupid finders could really hold back the akumas. Those creatures cared for nothing, not even their lives. They simply fused, becoming even stronger so that they could break through any barriers.
Scowling he made his way trough the crowd ignoring the affronted shouts when he pushed the people away roughly. Who cared about them anyways? He certainly didn't.
They didn't put their lives at risk every day, all year long, weren't used like toy soldiers by a secret organisation that gave a damn about their lives and feelings.
His scowl deepened even further. He hated places full of humans. He hated humans in general. One could never be sure if they weren't all Akuma out for his blood and innocence. Kanda could never truly fall asleep, he could never truly relax. He was never save. His hand was around Mugen's hilt, as always.
As fast as he could, without reopening the wounds that covered his body, he tried to make his way out of the train station. The sooner he left the sooner he was away from this place where an Akuma could easily shoot him in the back.
„Hey, pass gefälligst auf wo du hergehst du Rüpel! Und Entschuldige dich gefälligst!"(*1)
The young, rich looking woman eyed him angrily, demanding an apologise from him for roughly shoving her aside when she was in his way.
He turned annoyed, his eyes screaming murder. Her companions gasped frightened as he grabbed her by the front of her dress and drew her close to his face. He felt slightly better when he noticed that she shook, her eyes wide in fear. The people around them stopped to stare at them. Kanda simply glared.
"Look." he said in English, not caring if they understood him. "I don't give a fucking damn about you, if you fucking decide to stand in my way be glad I don't cut you down with Mugen. You're annoying me woman. Leave me alone."
And in their language he said some of the few words he knew. „Verpiss dich!" (*2)
He shoved her back into her group of friends a disgusted snarl open on his beautiful features.
"And you, don't you dare following me around any further. I cannot stand your presence.", he spat at the finder who was currently apologising to the group of women.
"But Kanda-sama! You're injured! It would be better if - " he never managed to finish his sentence as he felt the sharp tip of Mugen draw a few droplets of blood on his throat. The people around them gasped and made way for him quickly as he turned and finally moved outside, down the main road. He felt two police officers glaring at him but they were unable to do something to him due to the cross on his ripped coat.
Although the exorcists only tried to help they were always feared, sometimes even despised.
...
When he finally reached a quiet, dark side street he allowed himself to calm down and clear his mind. The wind was cold and signalled that sundown was near. It would be dark soon and he intended to reach his hotel before that would happen.
He didn't need to look down, he could already feel that some of his wounds had reopened, staining the bandages wrapped around his body dark red. The scene in front of his eyes was slightly blurred and his head hurt like hell.
In moments like these he hated the life as an exorcist. Not that he had ever liked it.
No one had ever asked him if he wanted this. All he had ever wanted was to find that person. They had dragged him away from his hometown, from everything he ever knew and had thrown him into a war he couldn't care less about.
Though that respective thought had changed over the years. But it had nothing to do with him. It wasn't as if he had surprisingly softened and now cared about everyone and everything like that stupid Moyashi did.
The Moyashi, one of the many people at the order. And they were all so damn annoying. All those finders who scurried away when he only glared at them.
Komui, that bastard, who always slept instead of working and enjoyed to send him to missions with partners he didn't want and need, to places where he didn't want to go.
Lenalee who cared to much about everyone except for her own. Who always cried for him even when he told her to stop it. And who liked to think she knew what was best for the people around her.
Krory who was simply annoying and always switched between all shy to being a vampire who was arrogant and thought everyone else were stupid children.
Add his master to that who treated him like he was his goddamn son although he never asked for it.
Then there was Miranda. That woman wasn't good for anything at all, always such a hindrance meaning all the more work for him.
Cross was also a bastard, and that cook Jerry was disgustingly friendly and a weird freak.
And on top of that that annoying, irritating, infuriating, absolutely stupid rabbit. His self-proclaimed best friend and what ever. Always there when he didn't want him to be.
Lavi.
Was there anyone on this earth who was more irritating and annoying?! No one else made him feel so angry, frustrated and confused, ever.
Those people were all so clingy and he had lost count on how often per day he felt the urge to run Mugen either through them or himself to get at least a little bit of peace.
He couldn't stand humans, and their weakness, their need for protection, their helplessness. He didn't believe in a God that was able to save them. And even if God did exist, what use was it to pray to him? If he existed then why were there wars, why was there pain, sorrow, suffering, why were there Akuma?
All one could do was protect and care for themselves.
Sitting around and hoping, praying that help would come had never helped him.
Not when the people with the torches and swords had come. When his hometown had burned to the ground. When his mother had screamed to god for help.
No, ... the help never came.
He sighed tiredly and tried to shove away the unwelcome thoughts.
Massaging his temples with his hands he tried unsuccessfully to get away the pounding headache or at least lessen it a bit. All he wanted was to get out of his sweaty, dirty, ripped and bloodied clothes and take a bath. Maybe clean his wounds and wrap them up. Food wasn't a bad idea either and most of all sleep.
He didn't care if the bed would be tiny and hard, if there would be a bed at all, he only wanted to sleep. Close his eyes to the world and get some piece.
Blinking he tried to make out the street but his eyes couldn't focus properly anymore. Although he hated to admit it, he had most likely reached his limit. He was healing much slower than usual, too. His curse could make up for injuries but even the lotus could not heal him on an instant. And it never took away the tiredness, on the contrary, he got even weaker because the heeling took away his energy that he needed to stay awake.
He had to hurry, he couldn't break down now, he had to reach a place where it was safe or ... -
"Sieh mal einer an, wen haben mir denn da...!?" (*3)
...
His hand was on the hilt of his sword in less than a second. He swayed on his feet as his eyes tried to make out the person, or were it persons, in the dark alley.
He cursed mentally. Even with his, normally so highly sharpened senses, he hadn't noticed anyone coming.
There was a man who stood not five feet away from him. He was not very tall, smaller than Kanda, and being a Japanese he wasn't the tallest, but the man was rather fat and as far as he could see it a disturbingly friendly smile was on his ugly face.
He couldn't understand what he had said and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. But he wouldn't be taking any risks. He tried to draw Mugen but before he had his sword even half way out arms were holding him harshly back. Ripping the sword away from his grasp, throwing it to the ground, out of reach.
He had never realised that two other man had managed to get behind him. Why had this to happen now, when he was feeling so damn weak?
He tried to keep as calm as he could, even though the hands gripped on his wounds bruising the already abused flesh even further. He couldn't help the hiss that escaped his lips. But he refused to show them his pain openly.
„Was wollt ihr?" (*4) he asked in broken German. The man, he couldn't make out how many there were, no matter how much he tried, laughed at him.
"Ah, so ya a foreigner. Ya certainly look like it. Japanese, I guess. Do you understand English? It would be so much more fun if ya could understand what we're goin' to do with ya." One of the man replied with an evil leer on his face.
They weren't old. Maybe around thirty. With dirty and old looking clothes, sunken features and an aura of hate and smugness surrounding them.
The Japanese man glared hard. He could feel and smell the foul breath of the men holding him restrained. They weren't drunk as he had thought they might be. But that wouldn't stop him from fighting them.
"Are you Akuma?", he asked.
The men looked confused as far as he could tell, which wasn't much. It was starting to get dark and no light reached inside the small street anymore. The pain from his wounds increased with every second and it was hard to hear. His head just hurt too much to understand things clearly.
"What's that supposed to be, boy?!" asked one of the men holding him and gave a sharp and painful tug on his arm. Kanda gritted his tears at the pain. He had a rather nasty gash from a level three and it wasn't helping that the filthy hands gripped him exactly there.
Cursing he tried to use their confusion as an advantage.
Not matter how painful it was, he twisted as far as he could and got his arm free. He smashed his fist as hard as possible in his current state he into the face of one man while ramming his elbow into the stomach of the other. Their grips faltered and he managed to get out of their reach. He stumbled and his eyes searched through the darkness of the alley.
Mugen lay on the ground on the right, unprotected. It was his only chance. If he could reach it in time. If only he would manage to get there.
He made a run for it but shortly before he could reach the sword he was hit by a large fist to his head and it send him crashing to the ground. His sprained ankle was twisted even further and a gasp escaped his lips.
The man held him down, speaking in their mother tongue again, so he couldn't understand them. Mugen lay just a few inches away from his fingers. But he couldn't reach it, it was useless. One of them kicked it out of the way. His vision got blurry again as he was turned roughly around and his shoulders were slammed into the hard ground.
"We should make you pay for that, boy!" It was the one that had held him before. He looked absolutely furious. "You've annoyed us a great deal, kid." blood was seeping out of his nose and, as a small part of him registered with satisfaction, it seemed to be broken.
"May we boss?" The fat man smirked, and for a moment Kanda saw the Earl in front of him. Smirking and grinning as he destroyed the earth. Who knew humans could look so disgustingly similar to that monster?
But he had never been one to believe in the good in every person.
"Of course, Michael, Jan." he smiled.
The exorcist felt even more sick. Hate burned inside of him. Hate for God, hate for this stupid mission, the Akuma and these men.
A fist was slammed into his stomach the same time as a hand bruised his face. He felt the blood inside his mouth and coughed. More of the red liquid ran from his split lip down his chin and he vaguely wondered if Michael had managed to break his jaw. Dark blotches appeared in front of his eyes as he was repeatedly slapped harshly.
"Bastards" he cursed them and was received with his head being slammed against the dirty ground with a sickening crack.
How ironic, he thought, as their fists slammed into his smaller body again and again, I take down all those Akuma but in the end I am killed by those who we exorcists should protect.
He tried to fight, tried to move, his body screaming in agony, but it couldn't move. His mind cried to his body to heal already, but he needed his innocence to reach the state where he could heal instantly. And even if he would manage that, after getting away he would most likely not make it out alive anyways.
Why? Why me? Why now? He wasn't one for self pity but he could not help the thoughts running through his head. But life had never been fair after all.
...
"Stop." he was surprised when the leader ordered them to stop.
But he wasn't the least bit relieved. No one knew what sick ideas that man had in his head.
Humans were worse than Akuma. Akuma wanted the innocence and to kill exorcists, people and destroy the earth. But those humans, he couldn't tell what they were up to or why they wanted to harm him that much.
"We wouldn't want to ruin his pretty face, after all we will get a good price for him. Asians are really rare and he is extremely beautiful when you wash all that grime away. However, I will allow you to teach him a lesson, he wouldn't be much use anyways when he's struggling so much."
The way he used the word ‚when' instead of ‚if' made his insides burn. That man had his life already planned out. What he wanted to do with him. And currently Kanda couldn't do a thing against it.
He was barely conscious due to the pain and exhaustion. Still his disgust for the men around him was apparent on his face.
Maybe this was the punishment for not believing in God's good intentions, for not praying he mused darkly.
The man reached down and grabbed Kanda's long black hair harshly, jerking him up as far as he could while the two men were still holding him down.
"What's your name, beauty?" on his face was a perverted leer.
Kanda spat to the ground in front of him. His salvia was mixed with a great deal of blood.
The man just laughed cruelly and gripped his hair tighter.
"Well, what does it matter? After all, no matter how beautiful you may look, you're just a common little slut."
In his mind he was starting to panic, fear cursed through his veins. Despite the pain he felt terribly numb when the men started ripping apart his clothing. Two held his bruised wrists to the ground. His left arm seemed to be broken, judging from the odd ankle it was twisted.
The leader ran his fat hands down his chest, touching the places which were not covered in bandages. Kanda closed his eyes in disgust and in shame.
This was not how he had imagined his death. He had always thought he would die in battle. Be killed by Akuma. He didn't knew if he should cry or laugh about it. He could only hope the men would kill him as soon as possible and get rid of the body. Then the finders would not bring his violated and tainted body back to the order.
He imagined Lenalee crying over his dead body. His master and Marie. He imagined the Moyashi, would he be sad? What about the finders? Would anyone miss him at all? Would he leave something behind in their lives. Would someone remeber him?
What about Lavi? Would he write about it in his reports when he became the new Bookman? The thought nearly brought tears to his eyes.
People always said when one dies it becomes light, and all the pain goes away. What liars.
All he felt was pain and numbness at the same time. All he saw was darkness. There was no happy ending, there was no justice, no God.
Thoughts invaded his mind blocking out the hands which were touching him, tearing his shirt apart and exposing his flesh.
Thoughts of a similar scene.
Of a woman with long black hair screaming as her body was broken and used. Her eyes full of pain but also full of love as she looked at him.
A memory of a name being shouted. His name.
'Yuu, run away, Yuu, please!'
A memory of eyes devoid of any light and warmth.
A memory of a cold body.
A memory of blood. On his hands, the sword, the ground, everywhere...
'Yuu'
His name. No one had ever called him that after she had died.
Died for him.
"O-kaa-san..." a broken whisper escaped his lips. He couldn't see anymore. His eyes were closed. His mind was shutting down.
"O-kaa-san..."
A warm smile, loving eyes.
"... I'm coming home.."
'Yuu'
A gentle voice calling out to him ... a voice... but not her ...
Who ...? Who was it? Who would ever call him that name with so much love besides her ...?
Who are you?
"YUU!"
His eyes snapped open.
...
The first thing he saw was red. But it wasn't blood that he saw, although the colour was similar. The next thing he saw was green and then a silver cross. Slowly his senses started to come back.
He felt drained, but not empty. A fire seemed to burn inside him all of a sudden.
He still couldn't move but he felt a warm hand on his face. His heat was pounding. The world was spinning, the adrenaline of all that had happened rushed through his head. And before he slipped into unconsciousness his lips twisted into a small smile. In the silent alley one more faint word was carried forward with the wind before the darkness engulfed him.
"Lavi ..."
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Whee... Finally I finished this. Thanks for reading. Please review and tell me if you liked it.
The translations:
(*1:) „Hey, pass gefälligst auf wo du hergehst du Rüpel! Und Entschuldige dich gefälligst!"
-- "Hey, watch where you're going you jerk! I demand that you apologise right now!"
(*2): „Verpiss dich!"
-- „Scram!"
(*3): „Sieh mal einer an, wen haben mir denn da...!?"
-- "My, My, look what we've got here ...!"
(*4): „Was wollt ihr?"
-- "What do you want?"
