Okay. This is my first fanfiction, so... hi! ^^ Definitely not my first story, but one of the first I'm willing to really put out there. Um. This kinda was a random idea I got while listening to a song called 'Heart of Courage' by Two Steps From Hell. They're really good, check them out on iTunes. Anyways, I really wanted to write a reincarnation story, where Allen and Lenalee are brother and sister. I really hope you like it!
Yes, I write in present tense. Yes, it was inspired by Suzanne Collins. ;)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own D. Gray-man, and if I did, Lavi would FINALLY get his own series of background chapters. I swear, everyone but him has had one.
We're In It Till The End
Year: 2012
City: London, England
Location: Somewhere downtown...
A man walks down the street, peering around at the shops surrounding him. One of the stores catches his eye and he leans closer to the window. There, on a stand, is a simple white beret. The man, who has curious purple hair, smirks at his reflection and stands back up, adjusting his square glasses with a middle finger and moving on. Another time, he thinks to himself. I'm looking for someone.
He pulls a slip of paper out of the pocket of his simple gray overcoat, pursing his lips at it as if remembering some long-lost memory. Too bad white's a little conspicuous. Rereading the contents of his paper, he scratches his hair and rolls his eyes, as if to convey to an invisible friend beside him that he is hopelessly lost. Even more, he waits for an answer, then shakes his head sharply to remind himself that nobody will reply.
Continuing down the street, the man wanders for a while longer, evidently looking for a specific house. Finally, he finds it - Renate's Home For Orphaned Children, a normal brownstone set in rows of hundreds of other identical houses. Rubbing his head in exasperation, the man adjusts his glasses once more and enters the building, nodding his head to the lady at the desk.
Renate, a slightly dottery old woman with an eccentric flair and absolutely no tolerance for rule-breakers, greets him with a quivering voice from her plush fabric chair. "Y-Yes? How can I help you, young man?"
"Well, you see," he says amiably, "I'm looking for a lost relative of mine. Our mother was a bit of a witch, you see. I was sent off to a different home while she was taken here as a child of no more than three or so. I tracked her down to here, and wondered if you could help."
She narrows her eyes and shakily raises a pair of round glasses to her face, saying, "A-ah. Well, I'll have to see your identification, dearie. What's the lass's name?"
"Of course," he agrees, pulling out a card and showing it to her. "My name is Komui Lee, and I'm looking for a girl named Lenalee."
Pushing her glasses down the bridge of her nose, Renate leans close and mutters, "Oh, my, perhaps you have something wrong. Lenalee already has a brother, dearie. You sure you have the right place, now?"
Komui pulls back a little, shocked. "She- she already has a brother? I thought our mother only had two children."
"Oh, no," Renate placates him. "She's got a sweet older brother, now. Very polite, and gentlemanly, mind you. Not sure where he got those manners..." She tuts happily, not seeing Komui's frozen stance. "Now, dearie, would you like me to call them both down for you?"
"Ah, yes," he stutters. "But- what's her brother's name? How old is he?"
Renate purses her lips at him. "You've got a lot of questions, dearie. His name is Allen and he's the darned sweetest little thing. Got a bit of a temper, though, so watch yer tongue. Insult him or his sister and he'll snap a little." She lowers her voice and leans closer. "Not many people want to adopt them, see. They've got the strangest birthmarks I ever did see. Allen's got a right little dark red cross on the back o' his left hand, and Lenalee's got 'em on her ankles. Poor dears."
Komui is lost for words for a moment, searching frantically through his mind and memories for more information on how its possible that they are siblings, of all things. But, he quickly regains his composure, and answers smoothly, "It would be wonderful if I could talk to them, thank you."
Tottering over to a panel in the wall, Renate scrutinizes the buttons for a moment, then shakily pushes one of them. Somewhere upstairs, a shrill bell jingles in one of the rooms.
"Coming!"
"Coming, Gram!"
Two young voices answer the call eagerly, and mere seconds later thumps are heard on the stairs as a pair of bright young children bounce down the steps and come to a screeching halt just in front of Renate's desk.
With the help of a cane, Renate hobbles around the desk and looks sternly at the two. "Now, this young man is here to ask you some questions, dearies. Be on your best behaviour. I'll be in the other room if you need me." Waving her hand, she slowly makes her way into the next room.
Looking around for someplace to sit, Komui draws up a chair and sits before the pair, motioning for them to copy. They do, eagerly, and sit forward and straight with their attention focused solely on them.
And all Komui can do at first is stare.
On the left, Lenalee. His darling Lenalee. He remembers her, oh, he remembers her, from a time long ago. Her turquoise hair falls just past her shoulders and is tied up in two quick pigtails, leaving strands flying all over the place. Her large, violet eyes stare innocently at him. She can't be more than ten or so. Seeing as she lives in an orphanage, her clothes are slightly big - a baggy T-shirt that's tied back in a sporty way, along with a tennis skort that's dirty and has its fair share of rips. Her socks are almost knee-high, a light purple, and she sports worn blue tennis shoes.
On the right, Allen, looking remarkably different from how Komui remembers him. He has an equally filthy ripped white T-shirt, as well as scuffed up basketball shorts and sporty tennis shoes. His hair is messy, held back in a spiky ponytail, and the strangest reddish-brown colour. His eyes have not changed - still that bluish steel, twinkling with an invisible smile. But the scar is missing from his pale face. And he looks no more than thirteen.
"Well," Komui tries to say, but falters, clears his throat, and tries again. "I didn't expect to find two of you. I came here looking for my si- my friend's daughter, and thought she was an only child. I didn't know she had a brother."
"You know our mother?" is the first thing Lenalee says in response. Instantly, walls slam down just behind their eyes, the twinkling doused and replaced with a guarded look. Allen's hands curl into fists.
"Y-yes."
Allen practically spits. "Hmph. Tell her to shove off. It's her fault we're here in the first place."
"Actually, she's dead." And it's the truth. Komui knows that both Allen's and Lenalee's former mothers are dead, long since. It's been almost a century, probably more now. He doesn't know the exact details, since the memories of those things are still hazy.
"Good riddance," Allen hisses. "Now what're YOU here for? Y'here to kill us?"
Komui notes his British accent has thickened. Even Lenalee, though she is originally Japanese, sports a trace of it. "Of course not. I'm here to offer you a scholarship to a prestigious school - the Black Order Academy."
Both children pause and eye him narrowly. Lenalee is notably less suspiscious than her brother, Komui realizes. "Really?" she questions, her curiosity starting to get the better of her.
"Really," he promises, then stands up and dusts off his jacket, handing both her and Allen a small envelope. "My number is on the paper within. If Renate agrees and you would like to contact me, use that."
Allen frowns and holds it so tightly that it crumples the tiniest bit, but Komui is already out the door and down the street by the time the siblings get over their confusion enough to discuss what he has offered. Renate comes back into the room and, when confronted with their report of what happened, simply tells them that it's "your life to live, dearies."
Komui, on a whim, decides to buy the beret, and as he walks down the street to return to the mysterious Black Order, he recalls his memories of what those two children were like a hundred years ago.
Who would have thought, a century and the 'reincarnations' of our bravest soldiers are mere children... I wonder how this will work out.
Please review and tell me what you think!
Sincerely, ~Firefly~