Title: Kiss Ass Business
Pairing: Kanda/Lavi, Allen, Lenalee, Theodore, Marie
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: DGM belongs to Hoshino Katsura et al
A/N: High School AU Flashback!; the one where Lavi's giving him options and Kanda is loath to taking him seriously; occurs months before graduation.
&
"We should join the Navy!"
Kanda deadpans. "You must be joking."
Lavi flips open a book and slams it into Kanda's lap.
You probably already know how much that would hurt, so let's move past the pain for now.
"What - is this?"
"Just somethin' I picked up on my way for choc-ice. Y'know they're doin' raspberry flavor? I'm more of a lemony fan."
Kanda deadpans some more, then gives that up to leaf through the war-torn pages. He notices a very dog-eared one. "You do know we are British citizens." He accidentally tears the triangular part right off. It sticks to him like spit.
"Who says that?"
Kanda looks up at him, thoughts slowing down to a dull flow. "You're. Not?"
"Yeaaah. Not."
But Kanda had thought. . . Well, he supposes, Lavi shall always remain a mystery. There's no getting past that unless you work for it. Just like how stupid people will always remain stupid people; you have to walk around them.
Kanda dangles the paper triangle and Lavi shrugs. "I'm illegal, whatcha gonna do about it?"
"You're not illegal."
"How can ya tell? Are you callin' my bluff?"
"Quit the prattle. Didn't Bookman get you some sort of identification?"
Lavi smiles mischievously - the eye-for-an-eye twinkle. Kanda doesn't give his tooth-for-a-tooth sneer. "Some sort being the operative phrasing," Lavi says.
In a way, Kanda refuses to believe him. Lavi does such a theatricaljob at impersonating the British. Even the bloody Yanks. Oh fuck it all. He doesn't know why this should matter in the least.
"Do you like your sailors, Lavi?"
All Lavi does is take back the tome, petting the spine which reads War Time Pin-ups. The usual suspects.
*
This half-arsed last year should be ending soon, and then Kanda will be free to pursue his own avenues of interest. He will possibly relocate to escape the fires of teenage hell. He will be able to quit his part-time job with the restaurant. He will be able to - Walker passes him in the corridor and Kanda must shield himself with the only thing available: the information from online about the Peace Corps, fuck.
You might already know that of course this is all for naught since Kanda is that much of an easy target in the crosshairs of teenage hell. It's useless to avoid it. He doesn't know why he keeps trying. Really. He should learn a new secret. Maybe he should read the book.
"Walker," he greets him.
"Kanda."
They stand there beside a fountain and a WC. They stand on their toes to see who's taller; surely one must believe that Kanda would never do this. Believe what you will.
Fuck it Walker's grown.
"Oh what is that? Something for graduation? You've taken your A levels? Can I see what that says?"
Too many questionssss, none of your beescraaap, Kanda wants to say. Simply thank the gods Walker's stopped questioning him about his wise age.
"Tch," he says instead.
Walker nicks it from his death grip rather quickly anyway, paying no mind to Kanda's expression of despair or desire to kill. His hair is ashy today, by the way. This is a horrendous improvement, so Kanda will not mention it.
"I do fancy this! This sounds fantastic. Can British citizens apply?"
Ah fuck. "Your hair's looking old, Walker."
"Shut up. I'm in between treatments."
"I'd say."
"Are you going to apply?"
"No. You need to have particular schooling and experience."
"Oh."
"I wouldn't hope if I were you."
Then Kanda nicks the information back and sprints away into the army of students. Vast familiarity. Absolute piss.
*
At a family dinner a few days later, Theodore is testing Kanda's trilingual skills. He tells him that he will be visiting a relative in the mountains soon. Kanda snorts through his nose and does not pretend that he didn't. He grumbles, passing the steaming fair trade rice to Marie. Marie grabs at it deftly. He almost makes a point by tapping his hearing aid.
"That wasn't very loud, Kanda," Marie says.
He'll give him loud. He thinks about buying a dog whistle.
"You must continue to practice, Yuu, or you will regret losing the splendid French language," Theodore announces in an intentionally soft voice. You know, when somebody thinks kissing ass will get them a first class ticket to Victory.
Kanda rolls his eyes. "Father."
"Pratique."
"J'espère qu'ils se portent bien." He stuffs his face with rice so as to avoid answering further. Truth being, Kanda likes the sound of it singing flawlessly between his teeth. It gives him a purpose, spirit. But that's where it ends. That's where he cuts the limb off.
"How civil we are being tonight, Yuu. Thank you, my son."
"Kanda. Did you eat all the red peppers?" Marie asks glumly.
"You are not completely blind," Kanda says spitefully.
"Hem-hem," Theodore says majestically.
Welcome to a nice home-cooked family meal. Compliments to the Maker.
"Je me demande, Yuu, tell us. What is new with you?"
"Why don't we discuss Marie's issues? Noise. Are you eloping or having a wedding with cake?"
Marie has been sitting on The Monk Idea for some time now. It's kind of an inside joke. Except for Marie, who's actually considering it. (No one will ever know Kanda has been entertaining the idea for himself on occasion.) He shivers.
"That's not a fair statement, Kanda. I do have a good amount of training under my belt."
"Right. You can press grapes and make wine for other weddings."
"Yuu, that is enough."
"Tousan," Kanda says non-apologetically. He's only stating the facts. (Just like Kanda states the facts for himself. Or is that sets the limits? Does this have anything to do with that Peace Corps bull or that Navy ruckus? Seriously. Kanda would puke on a boat and in effect lose any ounce of respect he has left for himself.)
"I am fond of Miranda," Marie mutters. Like a tiny peep in a lumber mill. Modern piano music plays in the kitchen. Marie has a certain palate for Seda Röder.
"She's like a crow, falling all over herself," Kanda points out. An image of the crows in Siberia that Lavi had told him about. How stimulating.
"I would like to see her again, but – how these things go - she has set her sights on someone who must work at the school. That rugged fellow, Tyki is it?" Oh Lavi won't like that. Excellent. "Competition is not my forte. For that, I should gather, I must set my sights on someone else. Someone I can look to for support."
Kanda's lip twitches. Marie starts laughing and Kanda joins in.
"Oh Mon Dieu," their father is saying, shaking his head.
"Et sacré bleu!" Kanda says, and Marie high-fives him and says, "Und heilig blau!"
Highest compliments to the Maker.
*
You know that job? The one Kanda just can't wait to get away from? It's here. And an early shift to boot. No, not to boot. Forget that god forsaken to boot. Kanda is Japanese. Now, what are the characters for I'm-desperate-and-will-hold-a-grudge-suckers?
"Who eats Chinese food this early in the morning?" He wipes crumbs off the table and into his palm.
"You no like my cooking, you clean. Aiyah! You see it, you pick up!"
Kanda sighs and tells the cook that he does clean, in Cantonese at that! In fact, don't tell anyone, but he's cleaning right now. The cook tosses the sponge and blows air about her difficult childhood blah blah back home where they had to scrounge around blah blah for food in the wilderness. Insert more outrageous fantasies here. It is hard for Kanda to believe that they have any kind of jungle wilderness in the closed urban-ness of Shanghai.
"Fuzhou!"
Fuzhou. Still. Who goes for that ancient story-telling anymore? Who exactly falls prey to that sort of snobbery?
The door dings.
"Hiiii."
Kanda immediately ducks under the table, cursing at himself for not being able to turn transparent. All the secrets he must learn. And quick. Very quick. Whyishesuchaloser.
"Was that Yuu Kanda just now?" Walker chimes. Kanda watches his tennis shoes across the parquet floor. He fights the urge, gripping the hell out of the sponge.
"Whatever you liiiike?" the cook echoes back.
"I'm looking for Yuu Kanda. He works here, doesn't he?"
"It's Kanda Yuu! Kanda. Yuu," Kanda snarls, shooting up from his not-so-transparent hideaway in plain sight. Without a perfect weapon, he chucks the now-deformed sponge at Walker's head. Walker ducks.
Why can't he ever stay in one spot long enough? Honestly. Stay there and let Kanda throw darts at you.
"I've been trying to get in touch with you all week!" Walker wails, waving at the cook to put many things in many woks.
"Have you."
"Yes." He bows his head and turns back to Kanda. "I could be mistaken that you've been avoiding me. . ."
Then that might be it, coincidentally enough.
"Why in God's odious name would I ever do that?" And he smiles.
Walker curses and the cook overhears even above all the annoyingly delicious sizzling. She laughs at his antics. Kanda grows hungry for meat on bone. She guffaws and a family member of hers breaks something. She stops laughing.
"Please leave out the pork! I am going vegetarian," Walker announces to the room. The cook skips to the serving window and asks him what drugs he must be on in English.
Kanda crosses his arms. "I am on the clock."
"Oh, um. I still have a part of that Peace Corps stuff." He takes out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. The door dings again and in walks Lenalee.
Acting as if she is In Charge of Big Guns.
Kanda glances back to Walker. Or Wee Guns, depending.
"Remember, Allen, we are focusing on embracing animals. Not eating them."
Something tells Kanda that they will join a cause next and then be maimed by Gorilla hunters.
She struts to the counter and starts a one-way conversation with the cook. She talks so fast that Kanda can't possibly be obliged to understand it. His job is only to take orders.
The phone rings with an order and Kanda does not pick it up.
Walker squints. "I think you should take it."
"Don't tell me how to do my job."
"Not that. The Peace Treaty Thing. You'd have the qualifications – for you personally. The rest is a degree." Walker whispers the word as if it's poison. Actually, to him, it probably is. He was never one for school.
Kanda starts to get interested. "How's that?" Do explain until Kanda must clock out for the day. Three hours should do it.
"I guess it would be – well – you're disciplined. And you – " Walker follows Kanda around as there is more cleaning to do " – take direction well. Better than myself." Why, if that isn't the smartest thing Kanda ever did hear. He hands the bucket to Walker. "You're cultured. I think you're cultured. Have you any new foreign words?" Kanda spits out something in Africaans that Lavi had taught him. It sounds ugly and beautiful. Walker pats Kanda on the back despite it being a dirty word about his, er, fanny. "This is what I mean! It's like this, I want to join, but I don't think I could eat bugs with the natives. But you can! The shoe fits! You know?"
Kanda is grateful for Lenalee's timely (timely) intervention. "You both. Honestly, this never stops, does it? Allen? The order's filled."
"Oh goody. Fried rice with those scrumptious ham bi - ?"
She shakes her head.
"I do want to become an animal hugger, I do," Walker repeats more for her than for his own benefit. He's not convincing anybody.
Kanda has more of a chance of quitting soba than Walker does with a nice fatty piece of flesh.
"Maybe all the pork fat fumes are getting to you. Can you wait outside for a moment?" Lenalee gives her best my-therapist-has-taught-me-to-be-a-very-empathetic-person rendition.
Once Walker exits with their food, Lenalee makes her intentions known.
Kanda cuts her off. "You've traumatized him." Not that he cares at all. He's just stating facts. Yeah. Yes. Setting limits.
"Allen's getting on all right. He's young."
"So are you."
"Kanda." She drops the empathy. "Are you interested? In that programme?"
Why would she say that? Why? Why? "No."
"You are, don't be silly. I've seen you revising it now and then."
Is that a – gasp! – accusation?
They hear some disturbance at the front of the shop but all Kanda can think about is ah fuck you Lavi for getting me into your kissing-ass businesssss. Hiss and hearts!
He wasn't born for this, you know. He was born to kick ass. Master Kendo. Be a Kendo master. That sort.
"Erm. It's a good read." It's a good read? What the flying fuck is he saying? Oh shut it, Kanda. Shut it now. "It keeps me busy." Shit. "Walker might be right." He's done for. His life is ending.
Lenalee giggles and bounces in her knee-high boots. "I'm so proud! I can't wait to tell Lavi! He'll be so thrilled to know you care so much, Yuu, really. This is why we are such dear childhood friends." Eh. "I should tell Komui! If you're quite set on it, he might be able to pull a few strings. Which category do you want to be under?"
He wants to be under a train. A bullet train.
"Lenalee?"
She stops yanking his arm off.
"Must use restroom. Good day. Bye." He hurries to the employee toilet and locks himself in. With the broom and all. The cook might never find him in here.
*
Kanda almost takes the broom home with him. This daze thing is very troublesome indeed.
*
On instant messenger that evening, Kanda takes a chance at signing on. He wants to flog himself. He makes a note to wash his laundry and makes an even bigger pile of dirty laundry in the corner of his room. He thinks it looks quite aesthetically displeasing there so he kicks it all under his bed. He checks to see if Lavi has signed on yet. Then he goes to get a biscuit to chew on while burning some dragon incense. He blows the smoke plume every which way. It wafts through his hair. He grows bored and checks the computer again. He thinks about Lost repeats on the telly. American television, right. He'll have to buy something on standard English to curb those fanciless tendencies. Fanci. . . Nasty. No, not quite. Bloody bugger!
Lavi has signed on but not typed a thing. No new curse words, no new sex epithets.
Hmmmmm.
Kanda totally breaks under pressure. He is not proud, no.
kanda_not_yuu: Oy.
He waits. No response. Whatever. Kanda will go wash his hair.
Ten minutes later, there is a response. Kanda sits down, jaw dropping slightly.
thebookthief: i was out teaching yuu-chan how to walk. he did the funniest thing. ya know how you walk sometimes all constipated-like? like you really wanna kick somebody for walking in front of you and you're pretty much tryin to look way above that?
That fucker. That imbecile.
kanda_not_yuu: I am not above kicking people. You know that.
kanda_not_yuu: …. do not tell me you put a lead on him?
Damn.
kanda_not_yuu: *leash
thebookthief: nah, he knows how to take orders~
Ffff. Kanda thinks seriously before replying. Very Seriously. Lavi probably does not. He is most likely -
thebookthief: the lil beanie weenie tells me you've been a busy bee in your planning. also didja see? think he's going for the perm effect nowadays. vair voltaire if I do say so myself. charming for the kid.
kanda_not_yuu: bees have nothing to do with it. Nor does sex, before you say another word.
thebookthief: PHWOAR LET'S DO THAT
kanda_not_yuu: I SAID NOR. NOR.
thebookthief: AH FAIR ENOUGH *n*
kanda_not_yuu: my planning is none of your concern. It is speculation, that's it.
thebookthief: *u*
kanda_not_yuu: wat.
thebookthief: lawl yuu-chan is cuddling all up in my grill right now. AAHHH THE FRIGGIN BEASTIE
kanda_not_yuu: Beast is right.
Well. In Kanda's loftiest opinion, the cat needs a new name. Then he'll survive.
thebookthief: srsly yuu. what's up?
Kanda spends some time in a daze again. The turban on his head feels like a ceiling.
thebookthief: kanda? did your pa induct you into the priesthood or something?
thebookthief: the ministry is something totally different, right?
thebookthief: are you wankin off over there?
kanda_not_yuu: you wish :E
thebookthief: yeah I do 8/
kanda_not_yuu: Why would you ask me something like that?
thebookthief: we're
thebookthief: not talking about the wanking, are we
kanda_not_yuu: it's your call.
Now that he thinks about it, is Lavi wanking off over there?
thebookthief: i call your bluff
kanda_not_yuu: what about this navy nonsense?
thebookthief: if you think savin the world is nonsense…
kanda_not_yuu: I can wager you'll be wanting to attend the same university next.
thebookthief: nah, reckon that would be going kinda too far XD;
Pardon. Too far? Who the fuck does he think he is? (Fucking emoticon.) Too good for Kanda? (Fucking sweat drop.) Doesn't he know? They can take a year to prepare and apply and whatnot and that plan should suffice for the time being – before Kanda can seasonably knock some sense into his own hard head. Why should Lavi mess that up for him? Why? (Fucking dickhead!)
Why.
kanda_not_yuu: I don't think this is about the Peace Treaty Thing or the Navy---which wouldn't be so bad, but now I have the creeping suspicion that Walker is amenable to it. That being said, I'm only considering it because you brought it up. Which brings me to consider why you would bring it up in the first place. Unless you want me around.
kanda_not_yuu: unless you plan to stay around.
Heart thumping like mad, stomach in the wrong tube. He finds an errant lint bunny amongst his desktop. He puts a finger on it. Pins it down.
thebookthief: you might be right about that.
His brainwaves have started to peter out.
kanda_not_yuu: So you're not being glib?
thebookthief: DARESAY I'M DEAD SRS. i think i'll stick around for a while. get my citizenship, maybe get a corporate job
thebookthief: donate my time, have some babies. that'll be the extreme.
Quoi? Kanda feels like he just drained three cans of Red Bull. Into his very body.
kanda_not_yuu: you do that.
He must pause. He's ran out of Very Smart (When You Know They're Really Stupid) Things to Say.
thebookthief: errrr maaan, reckon a nightcap?
kanda_not_yuu: fuck
kanda_not_yuu: yes
Kanda signs off, dreaming of all the life-altering things he will do once he gets to Lavi's flat.
Bookman is at one of his sooper-sekrit conferences, after all.