So you just had an epiphany, a very big one about the size of Europe that could very well change your life.

You have a stalker.

Hard to believe, right? For as far as you were concerned only popular people have stalkers, like, the very popular people who consisted mostly of people who are not like you. But you are almost positive that you do have one, probably hiding behind that trashcan next to you.

You look behind the trashcan and see no one.

Well duh, of course you wouldn't see him…or her. Stalkers are supposed to be invisible, not literally of course. Yours just happened to be a stupid one because you found out about them.

But wait, before you go on a sleepless marathon that would most likely last until your sixty fifth birthday or spend those sleepless nights counting your underwear to make sure nothing is missing or stop going to the bathroom or toilet to do things bathroom and toilet-related or be a paranoid psycho in general, you have to understand that being almost positive that you have a stalker doesn't mean it's true. It's possible, yes, but you have to be a hundred percent sure or all the energy you'd use for panicking magnificently will be wasted.

The first step in this Easy-To-Follow-Steps guide…thingy to get rid of your stalker is very important. It may as well tell you if you're going to live until next Sunday.

STEP 1: BE A HUNDRED PERCENT SURE THAT YOU HAVE A STALKER

…..

It was never in Allen Walker's moral to be suspicious of anybody. No, he would rather jump off a cliff or dance in moving traffic than suspect anybody of wronging him one way or another. It was very bad. It levels up to being rude when you go accusing someone without proper evidence and Allen Walker didn't want to be rude or look bad to anyone. So as mentioned earlier, Allen Walker didn't make it a hobby to be suspicious.

But right now was definitely an exception. Screw looking bad or being rude or lacking evidence. He was going to suspect anyone and everyone standing at a ten-meter radius of his general vicinity and no one's gonna stop him!

Suspect them of what, exactly?

Well, you see, poor Allen Walker, 16 year old British student of Gray Academy, have been feeling something this past few days. Like, he's sixth sense had just been opened and it wouldn't stop sending him warnings. It was driving him crazy. He can feel it, even now.

Someone was watching him.

Someone bumped him on the way to his locker.

"Watch it, dork."

Allen cringed at the name-calling. Maybe that someone who's been watching him ever since the end of the sports festival was a bully. Yeah, it's possible.

He wasn't the most liked student here, as you can see. But he was almost sure it wasn't because of his looks. Chaoji was uglier than him and the Chinese-Mongolian hybrid's head wasn't being dunked on the toilet on a general basis. It was actually the other way around.

So maybe people were actually intimidated by his beauty or his awesome or his general perfection.

Nah, definitely not.

Maybe it's because of the function ingrained to all the idiots' brain. If they're small it is your responsibility to kick their asses. It makes the world go round.

Yeah, probably.

So if this feeling he was having right now was being caused by a bully, then his life was in no more danger than it had been one week ago.

Much to Allen's slight horror, that thought made him sigh with relief.

It was pathetic how used he was to being manhandled by Americans and Germans and French's and he can't remember what other nation twice his size.

Now standing in front of his locker, Allen looked behind him to make sure no one was trying to catch him off guard and push him in his locker. That would be totally uncool. Not that that's never happened to him before, but it was always good to be cautious.

He opened his locker and jumped back in fright because something inside just fell and he was sure it tried to grope his groin. Seconds later, he almost laughed at himself for that silly thought as he picked up the stuffed…something on the floor. It was round, it was yellow and it had the creepiest grin Allen had ever seen in his life. It also had a long tail.

Allen heard the distinct click of a camera and immediately looked behind him-causing him a stiff neck-for the source of the sound.

Was this…was this some kind of prank?

He forgot to question himself how exactly did anyone got that toy inside his locker without the key.

But as he looked around and surveyed the hallway, he noticed that nobody seemed to be paying attention to him, something that would have made Allen feel relieved on another day but right now, well right now his sixth sense was screaming 'DANGER! DANGER! RUN, DAMMIT!' at him. And it was really annoying.

He noted all the students present at the scene of the crime. It would help him in his future investigation as well as hone the detective blood that was definitely running through his veins. Don't laugh.

There was a redhead standing approximately two meters from him, holding a cell phone and showing it to a sandy haired geek Allen was sure was called Johnny. Then there were a group of Goths several lockers away whom he never saw on campus except at this time. There was also a professor walking by. Professor Tyki Mikk smiled politely at him and went on his way. There were the usual jocks that stayed away from him thinking that they would get contaminated with his nerd-virus. There was the Chinese transfer student and she actually smiled and waved at him when she saw Allen looking. Allen blushed and averted his eyes, and then he continued finding a proper suspect. He caught the attention of a Japanese senior who he knew by name but not in person and shook from head to toe when the Japanese glared at him.

That's when Allen listened to his sixth sense and ran for his life, the unknown stuff toy forgotten on the floor.

….

PE was never Allen's favorite subject. It was the class where cliché things related one way or another to getting his ass kicked always happened. And true to this statement, Allen received 10 volleyballs to his face, 16 at the back, 12 times he was pushed for no particular reason and 21 foot appeared randomly in front on him making him trip and land in a very embarrassing position. His classmates were actually more active than usual in their bullying; Allen mused as he tried to dodge another ball and ended up kissing the ground when another foot appeared in front of him. They were obviously in a good mood.

The PE instructor pretended nothing was happening.

By the end of the class Allen was a very dirty hip of sore muscles and aching bones on the floor. As everybody walked to the changing room, he noticed that a group of seniors was entering the gym so he immediately stood up and walked to the changing room, despite his muscles aching. Twice he almost fell on his way. On the third time someone actually grabbed his shoulders and steadied him.

"Hey kid, you okay?"

It was the redhead from earlier, Allen noticed.

"Yeah." Allen slurred. He was really sore all over and he just wanted to go home and be miserable. And then he'll eat and go to bed.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Well in any case, I'll accompany you." The redhead kindly offered.

He was being so kind, Allen didn't even mind the glares he received when they entered the changing room.

"Where's your locker?" the redhead asked.

"Last one on the third aisle," Allen muttered, feeling tired and very sleepy. He was made to sit on the bench and the older male stood to examine Allen's locker.

"It's really messy." The senior commented.

"Whu..?" Allen asked stupidly, standing up next to him on wobbly knees.

All his things were out of the locker, most of it was wet and his clothes were most definitely stepped on. The senior crouched and examined his ruined black shoes with a look that Allen associated with his look when he ran out of food. It was definitely not pleasant.

The senior stood up and looked around the room. Allen's classmates were all quiet. His look changed for a second when he spotted another senior.

"Yuu." He greeted.

It was the Japanese guy Allen knew by name. He seemed like he just entered the room. And he, too, was looking at the remains of Allen's things. He didn't look happy, which wasn't saying something since not looking happy was his default mode.

"Man, I hate things like this." The redhead sighed, sounding defeated. He turned around in an alarmingly fast movement and looked at Allen's form. "You poor thing."

Allen didn't know if he was being pitied or if the senior was bullying him in his own way.

"Wait here, I'll lend you my uniform."

Faster than Allen could say blyourdsevsee, the redhead was already gone, which left him in the unpleasant company of a Japanese. Maybe Allen should add that to the least of nationalities out to kick his ass.

When the Japanese took a step toward him, Allen almost peed in his pants. Another step and Allen was cursing himself for not planning his will earlier. By the third step, Allen had already said his goodbye to his mother, whom he didn't know, by the way.

"Please make it quick." Allen squeaked when the Japanese stood in front of him, a body composed of muscles and bones purposely developed to do ugly things to anyone who annoyed him. Allen was sure he was on top of that list.

So when the Japanese picked up a dirty uniform on the floor, folded it neatly and put it down on the bench to get another cloth and do the same, Allen felt all his beliefs and morals break and crumple and disappear. And then he died, but that's just Allen being silly.

All his things were neatly placed on the bench by the time the other senior came back. The changing room was empty, too, Allen noticed. He was holding a bag which he handed to Allen.

"Here's my uniform. It's obviously bigger than yours but it's better than what you're wearing, right?"

Indeed, it was better than the poor excuse for a PE uniform he was wearing, so he'll take what he could get. Besides, it wasn't everyday that someone was being nice to him.

While Allen changed, the redhead packed his dirty stuffs in the bag while the Japanese looked impassively at him.

"You're Allen Walker, right?" the redhead asked suddenly.

"Uh, yeah, that's me." Allen said as he buttoned the uniform. It was definitely larger than his and he could smell a faint scent of old cheese in it. He chose not to mention that.

"I'm Lavi!" the redhead, Lavi, stopped in his packing and held out his hand. Allen shook it reluctantly.

"Nice to meet you."

"And this one's Yuu!" Lavi introduced the Japanese, not missing a bit.

"I know." Allen's mouth said before his brain could catch up.

"No you don't." the Japanese hissed. "You know me as Kanda."

"Whatever, Yuu." Lavi grinned at Kanda.

In Allen's opinion, Lavi was either asking to die or just plain crazy.

Lavi handed him the bag. "Here ya go, Allen"

"Thank you…for everything."

"It's nothing, Al. If you ever need any help, just call me or Yuu here. We'll definitely come." Lavi put a hand on Allen's head of white hair and ruffled it. He was already acting like they were close.

"No, I won't." Kanda grumbled.

…

For the first time since entering high school, Allen was feeling a lot of emotions at the same time.

First, he was anxious to know who was following him.

Then there was the incident with the unknown stuff toy.

He was also feeling miserable, something that was not new to him.

And lastly, he was happy.

Again, it wasn't everyday that two people were being nice to him, no matter what their motives were.

As he walked on the deserted street to his home, he thought of the things that would have happened to him had he stayed with Cross in England.

He imagined himself running away from the police and Cross's debt collectors while hiding with a different identity and thought that life here in America was definitely better than anything Cross could offer him.

The street was deserted, too, when he turned a corner.

That's when he heard the footsteps behind him. At first he didn't think anything unusual about this, but when he turned another street and another street and another street again, just for good measure, and the footsteps still followed him, he began to feel nervous.

He stopped and looked behind him to see if someone was there but there was no one.

He continued to walk in circles with an invisible follower. That's when the events from last week started haunting his mind.

His notebook went missing for hours only to turn up in his locker when he already checked it 10 times that morning looking for the missing notebook. He could see that his notebook had been opened several times because of the yellow color and crumpled marks on the edges.

Then his bag followed only to turn up the same way as his notebook did.

Then his shoes.

At home he was almost sure someone was walking back and forth in front of his house for hours. He assumed the guy was just missing. His sixth sense called him stupid and told him to call the police.

This was the first time that someone was following him, obviously not wanting to be seen.

He didn't think he had a stalker. That idea was pretty absurd.

Maybe this was the bully. He finally had enough of Allen and decided to rid the world of him. Well, that wasn't nice.

Allen decided that he still wanted to kick Cross's ass for a change and live a long happy life after that, so he ran. Fast. Whoever was behind him followed.

He was sure that he had the advantage here. He knew these streets like the back of his hand. It was like a maze and at the moment, he didn't want it any other way. He ran two streets to the left, one turn on a corner to his right and then another left. Since he noticed that no one had been walking besides him and his follower on the street, then who ever was on that left turn was definitely the bully.

He reached the corner and he felt dread all over when he saw someone, there was definitely someone standing there, in a hoodie, out of breath and looking left and right, searching for someone. Searching for him!

That did it. With a mighty roar, Allen launched himself at the bully and knocked him of the ground. The hoodie remained stubbornly hiding the man's identity. The man recovered quickly than Allen anticipated and before he could grab the man's ankle, he was gone.

….

Fifteen minutes ago, Allen was completely convinced that he didn't have a stalker, that it was an absurd idea. That was fifteen minutes ago. At present, Allen was wondering how he managed to get himself a stalker. He was also looking at his face in the mirror because he definitely looked ugly in all the photos of him that his stalker had. It was all in the bag that his stalker dropped in all the commotion Allen made. There were a lot of things in there that was Allen-related. He definitely recognized that paper as a page taken from his notebook. That was really creepy.

If that still wasn't enough to convince him, then the last item he pulled out of the bag definitely did.

It was one of his change of clothes at school, the one that was in his locker at the changing room. That was really, really creepy.

That night, he installed a new lock at his door as well as his windows, counted his boxers, just in case, and readied himself for the start of the many sleepless nights he would be subjected to because, damn, Allen Walker had a stalker.

What did he ever do to deserve this?

=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=

Something random that came to my mind when I was reading other fanfics. So who's the stalker? You think it's either Lavi or Kanda, right? You'll know in the next chapter.

STEP 2 : KNOW THE IDENTITY OF YOUR STALKER