Author's Note: Da da da daa! *throws confetti* It's finally out! My new and improved story of my life in D. Gray-Man! This time, starring Lian Aburakoji! As I told you in my A Different Kind of Hate story, I would be making this one! Rika seemed very Mary-Sue-ish and didn't go through enough pain to actually be a real exorcist. I think Kanda should honestly really just hate her XD He would hate her because of her too upbeat attitude.

Lian is a real exorcist, she may be a little to happy for an exorcist, but hey, Lenalee was chained to a bed and beaten so she couldn't move when she was only, what? Ten or twelve? Yet she seems ridiculously cheerful.

This story is, and will continue to be much better than the previous one! Don't expect updates too soon though; I've got a little writer's block, haha. I though she was just gonna continue on with talking to Kanda and such, but for some reason she met Allen... Writing is a living thing! It grows and develops on its own sometimes! Ha, ha! ^_^ So, without further ado, please enjoy!

Arc One: Broken Promises
Part 1

I broke a promise.
She got hurt.
We made a promise.
She broke it first.
I made a vow
on her grave.
But a man came and said
"That can change,"
Would it be wrong
if I said okay?

"I can't."

With an unwavering smile, the goblin-like man said in a voice of concern, "Why not? Don't you love your sister? I'm sure she wants to see you, too."

I gritted my teeth together in a painful smile as I looked up at him. "She hates me," I whispered. My throat seized up with tears. I clenched my teeth harder to prevent from crying. "She… won't… want to… be… with me," I hiccupped, my breathing erratic.

His smile finally faded and his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "How unfortunate, I'll have to kill you then."

Fear reflected in my eyes as I struggled for a word, a scream, even a thought… "No!"

CLANG!

"What's this?"

A mass of rose-colored cloth formed an X as I swung up my arms, shielding me from his attack.

The goblin-man withdrew and swung open his umbrella. As he flew away, he muttered, "I'll have to revise my plans a bit…"

I fell onto my knees in shock. The cloth fluttered to the ground. Noticing, I lifted up my arm. Watching the fabric swish back and forth like water I thought, "Chinese dance sleeves?"

Years passed. Since then I've learned how to control this strange power. After that one time, the power usually took the form of closed fans, but sometimes (when I was feeling especially energetic) I could recreate the Chinese dance sleeves. That rarely happened though.

Sometimes I'd pass out trying to activate it, and my parents would freak out. They'd scold me and threaten to punish me if I did it again; but I'd still do it.

My parents were actually dance teachers; they taught Chinese and Japanese traditional dances. They kept me busy by teaching me their favorite dances so that I wouldn't go ahead and practice my powers instead.

However, it seemed that almost every dance I learned, my power would be able to take the form of the props used in that dance. Not only that, they had amazing destructive powers when they came into contact with the right thing. I learned that just a month ago when monsters came crashing into my town.

I ended up fighting alongside a person who introduced himself as Froi Tiedoll.

He was an old, curly-haired man with glasses and a grandfather-like personality. He explained everything from the monsters I was fighting (akuma) to the powers that allowed me to do so (innocence.) Finally, he asked me a question that would change my life forever.

"Would you like to be an exorcist?"

With a big smile and my glittering twelve-year-old eyes I replied cheerily, "Uh huh!"

Despite being scouted by General Tiedoll (a European Branch general), I went to train in the Asia Branch of the Black Order for four long years. I had to put up with Fo's constant pranks and Bak-san's stalker-ish habits. I came to know a girl named Lenalee quite well without even meeting her once.

General Tiedoll sent me a letter one day telling me that I'd transfer to the European Branch to start doing some real missions, and that my training in Asia was over.

Sighing, I look over the letter one more time. "Oh gosh… Four years better have been enough," I mutter worriedly.

The gate creaks open just a crack, and a tall boy with long hair appears. He has dark, narrowed eyes, but a handsome face and lean figure. His arms are crossed, and there's sword at his hip.

"Hello…" I say hesitantly, "I'm—"

"The new exorcist," he finishes for me. The teenage swordsman turns while giving me a lingering glance then he jerks his head, beckoning me to enter the black castle.

I nod and follow him in.

He guides me through the winding hallways without a word, not that I mind that but…

"So awkward," I think, "He could have at least told me his name…" I sigh as quietly as possible so that I think he can't hear.

Suddenly he stops and faces me. He towers above me by five inches, glowering down. "Let me tell you something; I'm not particularly fond of new exorcists. Usually, I would not be doing this."

Taken aback by his sharp words, I return his glare with my own. Placing my arms on my hips, I growl, "Then why are you doing this anyway? If you have other affairs, what's stopping you?"

Seemingly at a loss for words, he draws back and scoffs, "Che."

I roll my eyes but continue to trail behind him.

He leads me to an elevator in what seems to be the center of the building and takes me up a few floors. Once he stops, he nods his head in a general direction and says, "Your room is in that hallway, the third one on the right. The cafeteria is up a floor. Don't wake up late."

As soon as I stop off the elevator, he restarts it so quickly that I nearly fall off the edge. I quickly catch my balance and back up three feet. I growl deep in my throat thinking, "So annoying! I hate your type!" I turn around with a huff and find my room.

The next day, I wake up unnaturally early. Unable to go to sleep, I get up and decide to practice a bit. I recall passing a large empty room, so I decide to go there.

I pull my hair back into a low-ponytail and grab my fans. I feel a little jittery as I go down to the training room; the building is crazy eerie when the sun's not up. I finally reach the place and quickly step inside.

The room is dimly lit by the dawn light streaming through the windows. The support beams are painted red and the floor is regular maple wood. I can tell its a little Asian-themed.

I breathe slowly as I sharpen my mind, remembering my favorite dance. I slam the ends of the fans together and shout, "Innocence Activate; Traditional Dance!" I pull my leg back into a long stance and hold both fans at my left hip, "Shirabyoshi!"

The closed fans connect and form a scabbard, containing a decorative-looking katana. The hilt of the sword is colored rose and gilded.

As I slide out the sword, I bring my leg in, beginning a dance my parents taught me. The movements I remember flow out of my body like water. The slow and steady steps remind me of a heartbeat. This is my favorite dance; it makes me feel beautiful yet powerful.

Shirabyōshi were female dancers, prominent in the Japanese Imperial Court, who performed traditional Japanese dances (the dances themselves also called shirabyōshi) dressed as men. They would perform for nobles and high-ranking samurai, and at celebrations.

I smile a bit to myself at one curve in the dance, feeling ecstasy in the steps.

.:Kanda's POV:.

I intended to go down to the training room to practice my sword skills, but for some reason I find myself peering at the new exorcist from the doorway, who's wielding a katana with much more grace than I'd ever expected a swordsman to hold.

She smiles to herself, eyes lowered and sparkling from under her lashes. She really seems to enjoy what she's doing.

"Che," I mutter, "Dancing won't help you fight." I quietly remove myself from the doorway and go outside to work out instead.

As I unsheathe my own sword, I can't help but remember how differently she used a sword apart from me. Gritting my teeth, I remind myself, "A sword is for cutting down; not for decorative beauty," and make a gash in the tree.