Hello!

This is only my second fanfic... blegh. I thought I'd go for DGM, and I just had this idea that wouldn't leave me alone. *Shoots annoying plot-bunnies* Anyway, I soon realised that this would be kinda angsty, and I'll admit that as soon as I started typing I had no idea what I was even writing about. That's why I hope it isn't too bad; I always take a while to get into the swing of things. This will be a multi-chapter story, although I've never written a story from start to finish before. I think of this as a kind of challenge, and once again I hope everyone is IC and it's not boring.

BTW! Anyone who reviewed my last story... OMG. I now know how it feels to get nice reviews. It's wonderful knowing people appreciate your work, thanks so much people! xx

DISCLAIMER: DOES NOT OWN -MAN, DAMMIT.

So! Here goes!

After undergoing a traumatic experience of some kind, people would have a reaction. Some strong ones believed they could shake off their initial shock and forget, but the experience would always be there to haunt their troubled dreams.

Some people wore their pain on their sleeve only to break, weighed down by their emotions and finally shattering like a glass shelf with too great a load.

Some others became violent, feeling the need to let every other person know about their pain, share their feelings to an extreme level.

Some people simply withdrew from everything, becoming fearful; talking to nobody, and needing time to re-adjust to the frightening world.

However… In the end… It all depended on what had really happened to you.

Allen Walker didn't really know which category he fitted in. He just guessed he was handling it in his own way.

Allen Walker. A healthy eight-year old. Mousy brown hair and radiant, steel grey eyes. Skinny, but well fed. A smile like no other child.

Allen Walker. A lost fifteen-year old. Achromatic hair and blank, murky grey eyes. Skinny, and starving for nourishment. A seemingly permanent poker face.

Marian Cross was not a happy man. If people were going to die, could they at least go peacefully, without tossing their now orphaned relatives onto his damn doorstep? Seriously. This kid looked like a piece of shit.

"Don't leave any of your fucking bags in my hallway, now get the fuck upstairs." Cross ripped his cigarette from his teeth and crushed it against the wall, efficiently putting it out. The pathetic creature before him bowed his head slightly before grabbing the handles of the only two bags he'd brought and slowly began to pace up the stairs.

"And one other thing." Cross stepped out into the middle of the hallway, scratching his bearded chin harshly. "Don't fucking disturb me either."

To Allen, the past five months were a complete blur. They had passed far too quickly for him to comprehend; one moment he had been spending each day with every child's dream of a parent and now… well, this man was the very definition of unsociable.

He'd never known his real parents, but it had never really bothered him too much. Mana had been all he needed, the adoptive father he'd had for as long as he could remember. Even when the man had been busy with his work, he'd always found time for his 'son', and a deep level of trust and respect had run between them, giving no space for but a single argument.

It's funny, Allen thought, just how quickly the beautiful things disappear… when the things that hurt you just refuse to leave.

Limping down the hallway under the weight of his backpack, the fatigued teen quickly spotted the door at the end of the hallway that must be his. It had two glass panes set into its top half, one of them cracked as if a heavy object had collided with it. The paint on it was a disgusting, dirty turquoise, and awfully cracked.

It was immediately clear to Allen that this was no normal room. Oh, no, of course not. It was a storeroom.

Pushing the door open to its fullest extent with his foot, Allen observed his new home with a sad gaze. It was simply a square space with one side of the ceiling sloping gently inwards. A damaged light bulb hung from it by only a wire.

Piles and piles of junk were littered before him; old lampshades, garden chairs, smashed alcohol bottles, a broken stereo, what looked like a broken shelf and a stained mattress. The wallpaper's pattern was no longer recognisable, and it peeled off the wall everywhere. Where the wall was exposed, a shocking coat of old pink paint was identifiable.

A single, curtain-less window illuminated the mess, allowing warm rays of sunlight to reflect off the scattered glass shards, making them appear like colourful crystals among the mess. The sight of them was almost refreshing.

Allen sighed to himself. If he'd thought Cross didn't care before, this indicated that the man respected Allen no more than any of the junk in this tiny space. So be it. It was better than a home, wasn't it?

The boy haphazardly tossed his bags onto the disgusting mattress as he contemplated the stains. They looked like coffee, but then he couldn't be sure. He'd have to get himself a bed sheet of some kind. He wanted his fleece blanket for covering.

Not to be distracted by the intense volley of swearing coming from downstairs, Allen managed to pull one of the cheap plastic chairs from the smashed shelf and set it on the floor, having to kick away quite a bit off junk before it stood. Letting himself drop onto the hard seat, Allen took a few moments to simply stare at the wall.

What on Earth was happening?

It was always this way, Allen realised. Suddenly I'd find myself in a crazy situation, not knowing how the hell I got here, but then Mana would always be there to drag me out. A small smile graced the whitehead's lips. That man had gone through so much trouble just to make sure he was alright. It had felt nice, knowing that someone was there for him, cheesy as it sounded.

Now, where was everyone?

Not even his old school friends were here. All that was left of them was a list of numbers, appearing sadly hopeless as they were scrolled over.

Allen just stared at the phone screen vacantly. Text after text after text awaited him.

Allen? Where r u?

OMG allen what happened?

Man where u go? You jus went on thurs. & neva came back!

Al?

Allen, pls txt back 1nce u get this

He couldn't. He couldn't even hit the right keys, his hands were shaking so hard. What would he tell them? That he lived half a country away now? That he was deformed? That he slept in a storeroom owned by an apparent alcoholic?

Burying his face in his hands, Allen let the phone drop onto his lap. He had no tears left to cry, and he felt awful for it.

Cross was the only relative he had left, Mana's unmarried cousin. The man had been wonderful in front of the social workers, perfectly acting out the role of a pleased guardian.

Later that night, he had taken the woman he'd mainly spoken to home with him.

Nothing else was said.

Why would he have acted like that? Why would he suddenly turn like this as soon as he had Allen in the car? It made no sense. Nothing did. He had been hit within ten minutes of meeting Cross. He'd thrown up onto the man's car seats.

The sight of a minor dent in the open door had done it for Allen. It had taken merely seconds.

The side of the vehicle had suddenly caved in with a mighty crash, destroying the driver's seat within seconds with the force of the crushing metal slamming into it; the steering wheel rolled onto the seat beside it as the rest of the car's interior was showered with knife-edged glass. Allen could see blood, so much blood… staining the material in a deep scarlet and spraying onto the shattering windows. Some must have hit him, too, because it poured down his face like a little river, dripping onto his lap and onto his trembling hands. Then the fire had begun, flowing through the car without hindrance, and the paralysed boy had, in his overwhelming terror, not even noticed the car was flipping over as it reached him…

"M-Mana-!" Allen had managed to choke out, before being violently sick on the dirty seat. He'd realised it then. Cars absolutely terrified him, no matter how much he thought he'd tried to forget. Lacking the ability to feel sympathy, Cross had hit him, tossed him some money for the train, and sworn to slap him senseless if it was not payed back by tomorrow. "That's fucking disgusting, you bet you're cleaning this shit!"

As soon as he stumbled out onto the pavement, Allen had cried his heart out before running all the way to the station.

The fridge hadn't been so hard to find. I must've fallen asleep, Allen thought wryly as he paced into the kitchen. He'd woken up with a blinding headache, and he'd had to dig right through his bag just to get to his aspirin. Also, the tap water tasted like someone had added washing up liquid to it. Taking a pill had never been so nasty.

The demon known as Cross was nowhere to be seen, and Allen wondered if he'd gone out while he slept. Or maybe he was just in the garden.

Allen pulled open the fridge door with a single, tough yank. The kitchen was a royal mess; if Cross had a dishwasher, he certainly didn't use it. Looking from the dirty dishes back to the fridge, Allen grimaced. Oh, er.

At least three-quarters of the fridge was jammed with beer cans and nothing else. All the rest of the food smelt kinda… weird. Allen blinked. Did this man seriously live off drink? Where was the food?

Abandoning the fridge, Allen decided that raiding the cupboards was next. When Allen Walker was hungry, he was hungry; no empty fridge was going to stop him from filling his stomach.

When the best the cupboards had to offer was a mouse-eaten pack of cereal bars, Allen decided that maybe he should go out and find a café or something. This house was completely devoid of food. Maybe Cross was one of those people who lived off Chinese. Standing up and tossing the pack into the already overflowing bin, Allen also made sure to pick up any leftover toast from the floor. He valued tidiness, and this place was already causing his slight OCD to poke through.

The glass shards in the storeroom were already all neatly packed into an empty box Allen had found, and the shelf planks were piled up neatly against the wall. That room couldn't stay a dump forever, not with Allen Walker inside.

Fetching his nearly empty purse from his 'room', Allen put on his summer jacket and pulled on his converses. Searching in his pockets for his gloves, he applied those too. Pulling his pocket comb through snow white locks and applying some concealer to the unsightly scar on his cheek, he deemed himself ready to go.

Knowing nothing about this town, Allen decided that he would first try to find the main street. Locking the door behind him with his spare key, he made his way down the path of the front garden and stepped out onto the pavement.

It was pleasantly warm, and he narrowed his eyes as the sun hit his face. The boy glanced quickly down at his watch; two-thirty. He couldn't have been asleep long, but it didn't matter; lunch was long overdue.

As if to strengthen the point, Allen's stomach made an embarrassingly loud protest. Raising his eyebrows at his belly, Allen proceeded to walk down the pavement.

The road wasn't that long, but Allen found it hard not to jump every time a car passed. He soon found himself walking right against the walls on the outside of the footpath, and stepped away slightly as he scraped a sole against the crumbly stone.

The end of the road opened to a crossing that seemed to be right at the top of the main road, and quite a few people were gathering there. Surprised at how close it was, Allen turned the corner and felt himself smile slightly at the sight of the shops. There were little gift stores, fancy boutiques, larger convenience stores and even some flower shops; it was a model high street. Quite a few people were out today, since it was Sunday, and children ran down the pavement with loud giggles as their parents lingered on front of the shop windows. There were obviously multiple cafes here, as one would expect, although one caught his eye. About fifty metres away was a cute little old fashioned sandwich bar, with pastel pink and green awning and neat flower boxes on the window sill. Painted onto the glass with gold paint was the word 'Miranda's', probably the name of the café. Finding the place looked quite inviting, Allen found a crossing and made sure he didn't look once at the cars as they stopped to let him over. At least he wasn't inside them.

Oh, God. Allen fought the oncoming nausea as he pressed his eyes shut.

Once on front of the chosen café, Allen filed through the contents of his purse with a grim look on his face. After having glanced at the menu (those sandwiches and cakes sounded absolutely fantastic) he knew that he couldn't afford much, as good as this place looked. Maybe he should just get some cheap instant noodles from the convenience store or something-

"Oh, hello! Can I help you?"

The teen looked up quickly to face a girl who appeared to be a waitress. Wearing a neat white summer dress with a frilly pink apron, she almost glowed in the sunlight. Her neat black hair was pulled back into twin ponytails, held back with dark blue hair-ties. On first glance, she appeared to be Chinese. Allen blinked. "Oh, um… I'm sorry. I was just browsing." He gave her a short smile, turning to leave. However, the girl seemed to have other plans.

"Are you new here? I haven't seen you around before, and not many people live here." The girl asked politely, cocking her head. Allen paused and shrugged shyly.

"Yeah… I'm new. I just moved here. I'm Allen Walker." He explained, and the girl's violet-tinted eyes lit up visibly as they shook hands. Before Allen could say any more, another woman appeared beside her. She wore the same pink apron with a dark, longer dress. Her brown curls moved lightly in the warm breeze as she clapped her hands together.

"You're new?" she gave Allen a welcoming smile. "My name is Miranda, and I own this café! I'd be honoured to offer you something, on the house."

Allen was stunned. These people were unbelievably gracious. "Honestly, you don't have to-"

"Oh, no, no! It would be a pleasure. Why don't you let Lenalee find you a table?"

Before he knew it, Allen was being ushered inside the little café by the Lenalee girl and was sat at a table across from another boy. Lenalee handed him a menu before he could see the other properly and winked at him. "Choose anything you like, Allen, I'll be back in a minute!" she called before moving to serve a couple of people who had gathered at the counter. Now that Allen looked around, this place was rather full.

Allen blinked. That had been… fast. "Judging by the way Lenalee was obsessing over you just now, you must be new 'round here, eh? I'm Lavi, and we're going to be best friends!"

Allen glanced down at the hand that had literally been thrust in his face, and then at the grinning redhead across the table. Slowly, he took the hand and was almost thrown onto the table by the force of the handshake. "Allen, huh? Wow, are you an albino? Your hair's kinda awesome!"

"Um, no, not really…" Allen composed himself and looked at his lively tablemate. The boy looked maybe a year or two older that him, and his wild red hair was barely restrained by a patterned green bandana. One of his eyes was covered by an eye patch, and the boy didn't fail to notice that Allen was staring a bit. "Like it? Makes me look like a pirate, doesn't it? So, guess what! That means that because Lavi wears an eye patch, pirates own ninjas any day!"

Allen stared further. How was he meant to answer to that, when he'd been preparing a frantic apology for staring at the eye covering like he had? In the end, he just smiled politely. "I guess so."

"Well then! As I said, I'm Lavi, and you've already met Lenalee. She's my awesomely hot girlfriend. I'd love to rant on about her overwhelming sexiness but there's always the danger of her brother hearing me and… yeah. So..."

Allen decided not to ask about that. "I come here a lot." Lavi continued, stacking the salt pot on top of the pepper pot. "This café is quite popular with the people so you'll always find us here, fighting for a table. This village is pretty small too, so you get to know almost everyone fast enough. Oh, Allen! You're going to school locally, aren't you?"

Wow, Lavi sure liked to talk. "Um, I think so. I mean, that'd be most likely." The boy replied, trying not to sound awkward. Allen had by now decided that he was going to take a bit of everything in the menu's sandwich section. They all sounded too good to choose from. "My guardian never told me."

Lavi looked up from his own menu, resting his head on his hand. "Your guardian?" Then he frowned shortly, growing sombre. "If you're… y'know… I'm really sorry."

Allen smiled sadly, suddenly feeling a bit choked up. "I-it's ok." He said quickly, breathing deeply to avoid hiccupping. Sensing the awkwardness, Lavi tried to veer off the subject.

"So, um, your guardian. Who is it?"

Allen swallowed and fell silent. He'd not really wanted to think about Cross, not while he was feeling alright for once. "You know Cross Marian?"

Lavi paled visibly. "Oh, uh. Well. Never thought he'd be one to, y'know, live with someone else. He's pretty much the town's famous player. You'd be hard pressed to find a woman that hasn't spent a night at his before."

This time it was Allen who blanched. "He…"

"Yup."

"Oh."

"Yeah…"

"Right, guys! Ready to order?" Both boys faced Lenalee hurriedly, and Allen was trying hard not to blush. He realised just how embarrassing it was to be living with Cross now that he knew about… whatever.

"Yes, please." Allen managed, pointing at his menu. Lenalee simply looked awestruck as the whitehead proceeded to list off every sandwich on the menu before setting it down at the table with a serene expression. Lavi's jaw almost hit the table.

"Wow… someone's hungry."

Lenalee was still scribbling frantically on her notepad when Allen politely added, "And some tea, please. Two sugars."

Lenalee laughed then. "You sure have a healthy appetite. We'll be as fast as we can. What can I get you, Lavi?"

"I should be getting this myself honey, really." The redhead grinned cheesily, and Lenalee shook her head in false despair. "I'd like a humungous slice of chocolate cake and some coke, pretty-please?"

"Aha… seriously, Lavi. If you keep eating sugary things like this, either your teeth will drop out or you'll be too large to fit through the door."

Lavi scratched the back of his head with a laugh. "Yeah, but you'd still love me anyway, right?"

Lenalee raised a delicate eyebrow and sighed. "That's Lavi for you." She explained, taking Allen's menu and then Lavi's. "Now, Allen, I'll have to test my speed-sandwich-making skills for this order."

Allen chuckled with her before she left, disappearing into the kitchen. Lavi just sat back in his chair and crossed his arms behind his head, staring after her wistfully.

Allen decided not to say anything once he realised what part of Lenalee's anatomy he'd been ogling at. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world." The older boy said seemingly to himself, and Allen couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Sure, but I wonder how the poor girl actually puts up with you." He replied sassily. Lavi coughed loudly in false horror.

"Lol." He said, beginning to stack the salt and pepper pots again. "So you have a girlfriend too, Allen? Or no?"

That last part was clearly a challenge, and Allen felt himself blushing. "Well, actually… no. I've never had a girlfriend before."

Lavi almost fell out of his chair. "Oh!" he said brightly, once he'd recovered. "So you're gay?"

Allen's eyes widened. "Could you have said that any louder? And no, I'm not gay!"

"Bisexual then?"

"Oh for the love of- I give up!"

At that exact moment, Lenalee returned with the drinks. Seeing how Allen's forehead was planted onto the table, she shot Lavi a questioning look. "What did you say his time, Lavi? Stop making a bad impression on our visitors!"

On smelling his tea, Allen raised his head and shot the girl a grateful look before he took a sip. Lavi just grabbed his coke and downed half the bottle before Lenalee had even placed his glass on the table.

"Allen lives with Cross." Lavi blurted, and Lenalee visibly stiffened as Allen set down his cup.

"Lavi…"

"Allen lives with Cross? Oh, my… Are you related?" The Chinese girl asked carefully, and Allen rubbed his nose slowly.

"He's… he's the cousin of my adoptive father."

"Oh… alright."

"Don't tell anyone… I'm kinda embarrassed about it now."

"Honestly, Allen, I'm so sorry." Lenalee bit her lip as she pushed her tray under an arm. "It's not like you have to stay with that idiot all the time. We're always here for you, now we're officially friends!"

"Yeah," Lavi grinned. "So Allen, give me your number?"

Allen frowned for a second before he realised what Lavi was saying. "Oh, yeah, sure."

"You thought I was still on the 'Allen is gay' theory?" the redhead laughed, while Lenalee took on a confused expression. Scribbling on a napkin with a pen he'd fished out of his pocket, Allen jotted down his mobile number. "Here." He said, pushing it across the table.

Lavi took the napkin but stopped suddenly. "Do you have facebook?"

"No…" Allen was feeling more and more stupid by the minute. "No computer…"

"Oh, oh, that's ok. Just don't be freaked out when your phone spontaneously combusts as a result of the Lavi-text overload."

"What?"

Fifteen sandwiches and a great deal of Lavi-ramble later, Allen Walker made his way home. He was feeling oddly lucky today, and he'd just made some nice (but odd) friends after having felt like crap all morning.

Also, he'd just discovered the best café ever.

Allen hoped that he'd find Lavi and Lenalee quickly in school tomorrow. It would be far less awkward than having to walk into a classroom and not know anyone or ask random people where his next lesson was. He remembered experiencing that before, when he and Mana moved. It had been awful, and nobody would talk to him because of his accent.

Allen looked down at his pocket curiously as his old phone buzzed. Wondering dryly whether his new redhead friend was abusing his number already, he opened the text he'd received.

HI! :D Lena's bro can give us a lift 2 skl 2moro, we'll pick u up at 8, yh?

Allen grinned at the goofy face Lavi had added to his text and pressed 'reply'.

Sorry Lavi, cars don't agree with me. It's ok, c ya 2moro! :)

Allen felt slightly bad for refusing the offer, but if he was sick on the people he'd known for only about three hours he'd never be able to forgive himself. With that, the teen stuffed his phone back in his trouser pocket. Scanning the houses lining the pavement, he realised just how worn Cross' house appeared next to all the other neatly painted houses with their immaculate front gardens.

Did the man even have a job? Allen thought it might be better not to ask.

Drawing his keys out of his jacket, Allen pushed open the gate, only to stop when he noticed movement behind the thick hedge he stood beside.

There was someone in the neighbour's front garden.

Carefully stepping back a bit in order to see better, Allen's eyes widened.

…Definitely not from around here.

The boy cutting the hedge with massive shears was a great deal taller than Allen, and left the whitehead feeling slightly jealous. He wore a plain white dress-top that was already covered in grass stains, and it was rolled up at the sleeves to expose lean but muscular arms. His knee-length shorts were navy blue, and he was barefoot.

Long, jet black hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and stray locks swished over the boy's straight nose every time he took a step. His black eyes were gently slanted, and Allen guessed that he was probably Japanese.

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

Allen jumped, not having realised that as he observed his neighbour, the boy had stopped to stare back. Retreating slightly, Allen raised his hands defensively. D-damn, that glare was freaky. "I-I'm sorry. I was just curious to see who you were; I'm your new neighbour."

"That's very fucking nice. Now get the fuck back in your house and tell the baka inside to stop tossing his fucking beer bottles onto our fucking lawn."

Allen was stunned into silence. He'd never heard the word 'fuck' being used so many times in two sentences, for Mana had been strongly against curse words of any kind. However, Allen thought, I seem to have been right about the Japanese. Although the boy barely had an accent, he'd had noticeable difficulty with the word 'lawn'; it had sounded closer to 'rawn' than anything else.

"M-my apologies." Allen tried to fight the stutter, but he could not deny that this boy had kinda scared the shits out of him. "Will do."

Allen thought he heard something like "Che" leave his neighbour's mouth before he turned and ran up the path to his front door, mind still spinning even as he shut it behind him.

Yes, Allen has a car phobia. Don't kill meeee...
My gawsh. First chapter done. I wasn't planning on any Kanda-dialogue yet, but then... the characters began to write themselves. As usual with me. I'm such a weak writer...
Anyway. This is more of a 'meet the characters' chapter than anything else, the real story will get going in the next chapter. Things to do with Allen will become clearer too, and this IS going to be a Yullen fic. So dw, I'm just trying to make this realistic. :)
If you have feedback, I'll gladly hear it. Reviews are nice, but ya don't have to. Thankee!
~Zaskaea