I do not own D.Gray-man, the anime nor the manga.
The ten-year-old didn't know why, but he was running for his life. Running from his own mother.
Sure, some things had changed since his father's death, but had his mother been this stressed out? She had looked rather miserable for the past month, but no one had ever warned him that depression would mutate you into a freakin' monster.
He rounded a corner, navigating himself deftly through the familiar alleyways. Leaping over a brick wall, he sought refuge behind a capsized, broken table. He didn't want to run anymore. Why was he fleeing from his mom in the first place? Was it even really his mother?
With a crash, the rotten table shattered as something slammed it against the alley wall. Flanked by trash and garbage on both sides, the boy crawled away, tears blurring his vision—tears of confusion and fear.
His strength and resolve giving out, the boy collapsed onto his stomach. "Come and get me, you monster," he croaked through his sobs, squeezing his eyes shut, awaiting the final blow that would end his wretched existence.
The blow never came.
"Linalee, take him and go!" a rather feminine voice shouted, a hailstorm of bullet-like projectiles thundering down from above.
As he felt a sudden weightlessness, the boy wondered thoughtlessly, almost blissfully, was he dead?
"Are you hurt anywhere?" another voice, this time female for sure, questioned him worriedly.
Upon opening his eyes, the boy saw that he was…flying? The moment his mind registered the impossibility of such an occurrence, the boy screamed. He struggled against the arms clutching him, thrashing and kicking mindlessly.
"Stop it! Do you want to fall?"
The boy was twisted around, and he found himself face to face with a girl, her face red with concern and her dark pigtails tousling in the sharp draft. Her expression, impossibly, softened further, "Flying isn't so bad once you get used to it," she reassured him.
"Who...are you?" the boy asked feebly.
"An Exorcist. And my friend back there, the one who destroyed that akuma, he's an Exorcist, too." She smiled as if her answer was the most natural thing in the world.
"Oh…" The boy had heard of Exorcists. His dad had once told him lots about the noble and gracious job of these people. When he had asked, his dad had said that he was only a Finder, which was still an important post. So important, that it was worth dying for.
Tears swelled up again, and the boy wiped them away in defiance.
The lady holding him tightened her grip. "Hey, we're going to land now, okay? We're joining up with our friend."
The landing was surprisingly graceful and refined, no stumble or trip.
"Linalee!" someone called.
The boy turned to meet the eyes of a…boy? It was a boy wasn't it? His girly voice made him seem like a female, and his snow-white hair colored his appearance into one of an old geezer's, despite the lack of wrinkles on his young, pale face. Wait, there was something off about this face. There was a tattoo on it. The young boy had enough lingering curiosity to wonder why the heck anyone would want such an ugly tattoo so blatantly on their face, and a red one at that.
Snapping back to reality, the boy was furious and surprised at another gush of salty tears down his cheeks.
"My—my mom!" The boy grabbed the older boy's coat, hardly noticing the crest on it. "Where's my mom? What did you do to her?!"
The teenager looked at his companion with an expression so sad, it made the boy want to scream with frustration. But before he could do so, the white-haired teen turned to him with an empathetic smile. "I'll explain everything. You deserve to know."
--
"So…my mom had already died?" the boy sobbed again, not even bothering to mop away more tears. "And my dad was the one who killed her?"
"…Your dad didn't have a choice. The Earl forced him against his will," the girl, Linalee, explained. She scooted another cup of hot cocoa towards him, waving away a waitress asking for orders.
The boy stared at the chocolate beverage without any hint of joy or craving for this treat. These bastards… They were trying to replace his parents with cocoa?!
"Do you have any other relatives?" the tattoo-face, Allen, questioned.
The boy ignored him. "I can't believe… My mom…turned my dad into an akuma…" he mumbled robotically. "She…she should've known better. Dad warned us about…" the boy trailed off. "And my dad was the one who killed her."
Allen met Linalee's eyes, asking with that look alone, whether or not they should contact HQ to find out more about the Finder that was once this boy's dad. She answered no with a tiny twitch of an eyebrow. She wanted to help the boy, but it'll take far too long to search through every file, and, quite frankly, those at the science department had enough to toil over.
Changing to a different approach, Allen began, "You know, I did the same thing when I was young."
This seemed to have attracted the boy's attention.
"I turned my dad into an akuma," Allen gently elaborated further.
The boy's eyes widened with revulsion as though Allen had committed the most inexcusable sin.
"He was my only relative, so I can sort of understand the loneliness your mother and you went through, and the loneliness you're still going through." Allen nudged the cocoa nearer the boy, who finally sipped the warmth down his throat.
As the boys exchanged questions and answers, Linalee led them outside, ready to take the littler boy to a hospital, just in case.
The boy was still traumatized and dismayed, but kids were generally easy to distract. At last, as they neared the medical building, the boy asked Allen, "How did you escape your dad after you turned him into an akuma? Did you run, or did your dad turn good again and let you go?"
Linalee couldn't overlook the flash of regret that passed through Allen's eyes. And there was something else, too. Fear? Was Allen afraid…?
"My…arm," Allen, unable to refuse the boy's intense stare, answered as he clutched his left arm.
"What's wrong with your arm?" The boy made a grab at Allen's left glove.
"There's nothing wrong—" Allen's soft reply was cut off by the scream of mortal terror resonating from the boy's mouth.
"Your arm—" The boy stared at Allen, petrified with fear. "You're an akuma, too, aren't you?! That arm, it's an akuma!" Finally finding the will to move, the boy scrambled away from the Exorcists and ran towards the hospital. All the way, he screamed bloody murder, "Monster! You monster!"
Linalee stood dumbfounded, unsure of who to soothe first. As an Exorcist, the kid was her top priority, but as a friend, the wellbeing of Allen held importance second to none.
"You…you should probably go after him." Allen rubbed his arm with a shy, empty smile.
"Allen…" Linalee began, only be stopped short.
"He's been through too much today, so it's best if you go to him."
"What about you? You won't run anywhere…?"
Allen laughed sadly, "It's all right, Linalee."
"It's not all right!" Linalee protested anxiously, "He shouldn't have called you a monster!"
"No, no. It's okay." Laughing a hollow chuckle, Allen glanced at his grotesque and discolored hand, nonchalance obscuring his face. "I get that a lot."
Kinda random and pointless. It also felt rather incomplete.
Why am I criticizing my own story? Because I'm tipping off that I already know the flaws of this fic, so you don't need to remind me.
Honestly, I wouldn't be too shocked if no one reviewed… But please don't let me suffer that fate. Please oh, please review.