Disclaimer: Don't own D. Gray-man. Making no money from this. Spoilers for current manga chapters.
Notes: This was actually started between chapters 199 and 200, but not finished until after 200 was released. I guess I was right on some things, but fully expect to be completely wrong about everything else very shortly. Written because I wanted some fluff. Special thanks to the lovely Jaya Mitai, who was expecting something with more mountains and fedoras in it, but read this over anyways and encouraged me to post =)
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The Bookman
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He wasn't surprised when he noticed someone approaching; he was only surprised at how quickly they had arrived. The presence was familiar, and it belonged to one of the few people he knew at the moment that he did not need to avoid.
He waited.
Lavi landed with his usual show of overexaggerated energy, after using his hammer to first reach, then open, and finally vault through the window of the abandoned building instead of taking the stairs.
He should probably think about booby-trapping the windows as well, if he decided to stay here.
The other boy was still alive and intact, if much the worse for wear. He had likely arrived straight from the battlefield before even returning to Headquarters, and when Lavi simply unloaded a hastily cobbled pack of clothes, rations, and odds and ends of money, his suspicion that something beansprout-shaped had had a hand in this was cemented.
Lavi, for his part, seemed much more shaken about the present state of affairs than Kanda; at least enough that his visible eye widened noticeably with shock after taking in Kanda's surroundings and appearance despite being a Bookman. His gaze took in and noted the state of Kanda's body, then lingered a moment on the orb of black glass cradled in Kanda's hands. The symbol was less obvious now that the sphere had gone dark, and Lavi didn't say anything. As a Bookman, he would get the whole story soon enough, if he hadn't already. What he was seeing now was simply the final footnote to attach to the story. Instead, the other boy sighed after a moment and tugged a blanket free from the pack.
"I know it's your usual way of doing things and you'll heal anyways, but if you want to stop looking all crackly and bleached out and stuff you should take care of y'self a bit more, yeah? Or you might be stuck looking like Timothy's attempt at pottery making."
The blanket was tossed across Kanda's shoulders, and despite that most of his frayed sensory neurons were still regenerating from the trauma, the material was comfortingly warm and soft against his skin.
"Tch," he managed through his cracked throat, feeling fissures pull across his unhealed face. "And is that going into your record?"
Lavi made a quiet sound of amusement as he rummaged through the pack once more. "Fair enough. Was the only reason the old Panda would let me come. But-," and here he looked up with half of a grin on his face to match his eyes, "-on the other hand, Allen would have found someone to do this anyways, and they'd be doin' the exact same thing, so's not like I'm actually doing, really." He winked then, and Kanda felt his lips pulling up ever so slightly at the way the rails settled back into the tracks of routine even as his hands tightened around the sphere in his hands.
"How did you even manage that?" he asked, leaning his head back against the wall. It was the best way to ask what he wanted to know. He didn't care about how the Exorcists had fared, or what had happened to the beansprout, or if Lavi would be in more trouble than he'd stated after he returned. He just needed to know what the situation was so he could better plan whatever steps he took next, that was all.
Not that he'd really thought about it much. He brushed a thumb over the surface of the stone in his hands. They'd said their goodbyes and they'd had their time. But not enough, and now, he felt his own time pulling forward when it should have already ended.
Lavi's expression darkened. "It seems the Earl managed to do something to mess with the Ark and try to block our retreat. He almost got control over it again or something, then Allen managed to get control back. So the Ark's been acting up and the gates are all out of order and Allen says he's getting them back under control. The Order's also tryin' t'move to the third backup Headquarters using the Ark without letting Allen know what the exact location is. So anyone going through a gate right now has a chance of ending up somewhere else first before they get to the right place. I came straight from China," Lavi added after a moment.
As if he was worried about that. "Then you'd better be getting back," he replied shortly.
"Almost." Lavi dug out a tin can from the rations and poured the contents into a worn metal bowl. He set the bowl on a flat side of an enlarged Ozuchi Kozuchi, and with a command, the hammer started to glow with heat. He stirred the food briskly with a spoon he pulled from the pouch on his hip before looking up and grinning gamely at Kanda. "Y'see, the person I got this soup from caught me stealing it and said they'd only hand it over if I did something for them in return. So I'm s'pposed to watch you and make sure you actually eat something before I leave."
He wasn't sure how he felt that he couldn't immediately guess who the previous owner of the canned soup was.
-x-x-
"Good morning, Mr. Bookman!"
The old man behind the counter of the bookshop looked up and adjusted his glasses.
"A good morning to you," the old man greeted, once he recognized his guest. "I'm glad to see you out and about and looking much better."
The visitor smiled sadly as he deposited a stack of books on the counter. "Well, life does need to go on. Thank you for visiting me and all of your help during this time. I don't know how I would have made it through the funerals and getting the estate in order if it hadn't been for you and Mrs. Bookman."
"No problem at all, my boy." The shopkeeper slowly got off the stool he had been perched on and carefully bent down to rummage in the shelves under the counter. The head of sparse white hair reappeared a moment later, and a second stack of books was placed beside the first. "Been saving these up for you. Thought you might like to read them before I put them out for sale. If you'll carry 'em down to the house, I think the missus and the little ones would be delighted if you would join us for lunch." The old man gave the younger man a look that stated he would be coming by the house either way and taking away a packed lunch with the books if he didn't wish to stay.
"I…thank you very much, Mr. Bookman. I think…that would be very nice. Thank you."
The old man's mock stern look softened. "Help me tidy up some of the shelves over there and we can head out. Getting too old to climb all over the walls to get to that top shelf now."
"Of course."
The old man sat back down on the stool and began painstakingly writing something in the giant ledger on the counter. "Had any thoughts yet about what you might want to do next?" he asked quietly, without looking up from his writing.
The old man meant it kindly, and he sighed a little, running a hand through his hair as he pushed a row of books closer together his other hand. Picking up a book that had toppled over, he added it to the row, then blocked off the other side with a bookend. "I don't really know yet," he admitted. "It's odd, but I don't feel like doing anything yet. If I was a young lord, I should do some of this fancy traveling stuff that seems to be all the rage now. See foreign lands, exotic animals," he joked.
"Now, now," the old man replied, holding back a laugh. "It's not nice to make fun of the young prince because he'd never seen a goat before." They shared a smile, and the old man continued. "Though I'm really not sure about traveling, what with that band of refugees that arrived yesterday. Sounds like there's something you wouldn't want to get mixed up in going on out there. But enough of that. If you're done with that other row, I believe it is time for lunch."
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The General
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He gritted his teeth as the other drew steadily closer. He'd noticed he was being followed a day ago, and hadn't been able to throw off his pursuer yet. He'd hoped to throw them off criss-crossing through the countryside, but he'd underestimated their tracking ability and they had somehow managed to acquire a faster means of transportation just mere moment ago. He could probably take them on in a fight if he needed, but that would only draw attention to his actual location when there were probably any number of false leads on him by now.
What a small world. Or perhaps, what a big Order. And the Earl and the Noah were more powerful still.
And then his tracker pulled up suddenly beside him, in the middle of a rolling expanse of trees and grass in the middle of a late spring day somewhere in the middle of the vast European countryside, mounted on the back of a giant monkey.
"Here," the rider ordered, and tossed a parcel at him unceremoniously as the monkey returned to normal size. She landed lightly on the grass and the monkey scrambled nimbly onto the general's shoulder. "You don't make yourself easy to find when the ones who did know all insist they don't."
The parcel was only loosely wrapped with brown cloth and tied with string, and he stared dumbly at the sleeve of a sweater that was falling out of the wrapping for a good two seconds before he snapped his eyes warily to the general's face and remembered to breathe again.
The general rolled her eyes. "Be glad I was the one that found you boy. The old fool's been handing them out to half the active teams so they'll have something warm to wear for winter. I think I preferred it more when he gave out sketches as gifts."
He looked at her mutely, hands tightening just slightly on the package, and she appraised him calmly as Lau Jimin smoothed the fur on its tail.
"I will tell him you look well," she said calmly, and after a moment he nodded.
"If there's nothing more, there are rumors I am to be confirming to the north." Without a backward glance, Klaud Nyne started walking in the direction she'd indicated.
He allowed himself just enough time for the curt half bow of the head towards her retreating back to be appropriately respectful before he tucked the parcel under his arm and began moving in the other direction.
-x-x-
The man towered above him like another of the draped column tombstones looming over him from where he was sprawled in the mud of the graveyard. Behind the man, the orange glint at the crack of the sky would look almost like dawn if he pretended hard enough.
"You will come with me," the man ordered. The green gear held in the man's gloved hand glowed, muted and diffuse in the smoggy air, and several hundred meters away, the remains of the giant mechanical demon that had burst from the chest of the refugee who had killed the village priest smoked quietly.
"Think of revenge as your new purpose if you need to. You have been chosen to fight and you will join us. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. You may do what needs to be done until the fires are put out. Then we leave." The man's words were emotionless, simply stating facts.
He swallowed, dazed, and his eyes blurred as he suddenly realized what it took for someone to be a hero.
"The village. Is it safe?" he asked.
"It will recover," the man answered, his voice still flat and inflectionless.
"And the demons came because of me?"
The man snorted. "No. But if they return it will be because they now know they must destroy you before you destroy them."
He pulled himself up so that he was sitting on the ground because it was better for thinking and he didn't trust his legs to hold him yet. He needed to see if Mr. Bookman and his family were safe. But beyond that—
"There's nothing for me here," he said, looking at the shadowed face where he guessed the man's eyes would be. He managed to get to his feet with the help of a gravestone, and was surprised to find the man that had looked so imposing as he'd battled the demon was actually rather slight and not much taller than himself. "Let me take care of some things-"
"Say your goodbyes and tell them you will be traveling. The Order will take care of the rest."
"Yes, sir," he replied automatically, feeling a little sullen before he immediately felt childish for feeling so. It wasn't as if any of his options were better than the others right now. The stranger, on the other hand, grimaced, and for the first time that night spoke with actual emotion.
"Don't call me that."
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The Girl
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He got the letter at the end of summer. The wizened old man that ran the noodle shop had slapped an envelope greasy with spattering from the frying pork in the kitchens into his hand along with his change. Nearly obscured by a dark tea stain was a stamped seal; the pattern he recognized as the good luck charm carved from jade the innkeeper's wife had tried to give him when he'd gotten hurt on one of his earliest missions. He'd tried to toss it out, but Lenalee had retrieved it, panicked that he wouldn't recover if he dismissed another's good intentions.
Inside the envelope was a picture. Something vaguely Komurin-shaped was stomping around, facing off against another boxy robot with a mustache. A row of varied stick figures filled the space on the ground between the robots, and above them floated a figure with a fuzzy triangle on its back. Behind the floating stick figure was a lopsided rectangle that had been shaded in.
The whole thing looked like something a five-year-old with a slate pencil might scrawl on a wall.
He suddenly remembered how he and Lenalee would sometimes secretly draw caricatures of their tutors on scraps of paper and pass them back and forth during their lessons when they were younger.
So she hoped he was well. She was warning him to stay away. The others had survived their battles with the Noah those months ago. The Order…had not changed. The moyashi…the moyashi was something. He wasn't sure what, but he could guess.
He was taking his time but this time was catching up to him. And he found that soon, soon, he might not even mind.
The roads at this time of day were clear and wide, and the world was still before him and the air was fresh. He'd watched it go by for a time now, drifting where he pleased, and he found he did not fit in anywhere any more than he previously had, and at the same time, he didn't not fit in any more than he previously had. That part at least, was the same.
Perhaps it was time he settled a bit somewhere. Stayed in the same place for a while. He thought he could stand seeing the same people over and over again for more than a few days in a row now. Somewhere where he could try a different pattern, where the dust could settle and he could see the form of his world around him again. Because now, for the first time, he thought he might want to know.
-x-x-
She was standing under one of the arches separating the open hallways from the small courtyard. Her short hair was pale dusty brown, the lightest shade he'd seen in weeks besides his own, and he blinked a bit in surprise. Her dress was heavy, ruffled and Western, and the colors and the buttons at the sleeves gave her away as an Exorcist.
"Hello," she called to him, and he blinked again. She scrunched her face when there was silence, then tried again. "Hello."
This time he recognized the language, understood the general gist of the meaning, and he'd just managed to locate the section of his brain that held the few phrases he knew and was trying to connect it to his tongue to reply when the girl tried once again, this time in a language he was fluent in.
"Hello," she said, and he answered back with relief.
"Hello."
Her smile brightened when he replied, and it was infectious. He found himself grinning back, more relaxed than he'd been since the ship had docked.
"My name is Sonja," she said, still standing in the shade of the hallway.
Sonja. It's like the sound the raindrops must make, falling into the elegant fish pond in the center of the cozy courtyard.
"Is this your first time visiting the Asia Branch?" she continued.
"It's my first time anywhere," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "I must look as overwhelmed as I feel."
She smiled again at that, and waved for him to join her on the other walkway. "One gets used to it after a while. It's part of what working for the Order is about. I suppose you are the new Exorcist here for training?"
He nodded, and she motioned for him to follow her. "Come with me. I'll take you to the Branch Head and he'll show you around the facilities."
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The Mission
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"I much prefer to waste my time searching for women if I have to be out at all, you know." A pair of leather traveling boots, too clean to have actually been on the road, moved past his line of vision towards the park bench next to the flowerbed.
He felt the hairs curl at the back of his neck, but never stopped with his weeding. It was autumn, and most of the flowers were gone, but the weeds still took root in the beds. "What are you doing here?" he asked with a growl.
An arm was draped over the back of the bench, and the man leaned back and exhaled a cloud of acrid smoke. "Manners, manners. I could say the same about you, boy."
"Get to the point," he snapped, digging his trowel into the dirt a little harder than necessary. He wondered what would happen if he dropped a spade of mud on the man's boots. Cross Marian had lost the uniform and the mask, and the long red hair was tied back in a neat braid, but he was fairly sure the former general still hated getting his clothes dirty. The man must have seen the thoughtful look he was giving the dirt in his hands, because he sat up and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and tucking his boots partially under the bench.
"Impatient as always. My idiot apprentice finally got around to taking my advice and talking to the Fourteenth Noah. The Fourteenth has a plan to defeat the Earl, and my idiot apprentice has decided to help him, along with a few others of the Order. I believe you are familiar with many of them. They are currently grouped on the Ark, which the Order no longer has control of, and setting things in motion. I was contacted to locate and inform you by one of the parties that strongly hopes you will join them."
The way Cross Marian worded the last sentence made a tingle of premonition run down his spine as he understood. That idiot was out of his mind and about to get himself killed again to save the world.
That idiot had taken on a third side to this war to try to end it on his own terms.
He'd promised to kill the idiot himself if Allen Walker ever lost himself completely to the Noah.
There really was no way around it, was there?
"They will be glad that you are rejoining them. Someone should be here to take you to the Ark soon, now that you have been located." Abruptly, the former general stood up, his coat billowing, and continued walking down the garden path. As he'd guessed, there would be no footsteps left once it curved out of sight behind the hedges.
He knew there was a reason why he didn't like the man.
-x-x-
"Sonja," he said pleadingly, and gripped her arms just above her elbows. She thrashed a bit, and mere months before, he would have quickly let go and backed away. Now, both training and survival instinct kicked in, and he held firm. Not enough to hurt or be forceful, but enough to prevent her from flailing and accidentally or purposefully hitting him. Enough to let her know that he was here. She jerked forward again, but he pulled her back, and she stilled, surprised.
"Sonja," he said again softly, and released his grip so that it was his palms resting on her arms. "It's okay. It wasn't your fault."
"Yes it was!" she hissed, and he rubbed his palms against the sides of her arms soothingly.
"It's okay to not be perfect," he said instead. "You don't always have to be able to do everything." You can't always be able to do everything. He wanted to tell her things happened, not everything would always go right, but what did he really know of war, with his short time on this battlefield? So he said instead what he believed from the bottom of his heart, and what he most wanted to tell her. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"It's my fault," she said again, but this time her voice was more worn and resigned than angry.
"You managed to get them back to the Branch," he said softly, still running his palms up and down her arms. "They got to see their friends once last time."
She sighed and looked away, but didn't turn and leave the way she had when he'd previously tried to bring up the subject, and he searched his mind for some way to continue.
"You know that saying about how lotuses rise out of the mud but are pure and clean and unstained? That doesn't really make sense. They live in the mud, they eat the mud, their roots are buried in mud. They're just another part of the mud, the part that reminds us that good things still come from mud and there's always hope."
She stared at him a moment, uncomprehending, then let out a strained laugh. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," she said finally, with a hysterical giggle. "Now you're just making things up." She leaned closer and rested her forehead against his shoulder, and he tensed in shock before slowly relaxing and lifting a hand to pat her awkwardly on the back. "But it still makes me feel better. Thank you."
They stayed like that for long heartbeats, then she straightened up, her hand on his arm. "Take care on your mission to India," she said softly, eyes tired and drawn.
"I will," he promised quietly. "And we'll watch the lotuses bloom behind the Branch Headquarters together next summer like we said we would."
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The Noah
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His next visitor was also sitting on a bench in one of the park gardens he was tending a few weeks later. He saw the head of white hair and the dark skin, and approached without fear.
"Noah," he spat.
"Now, now." The voice was Allen's, but richer, more musical, and the Musician smiled charmingly at him. "I wouldn't be here if Allen didn't want me to be. I just wanted to greet you properly, we never had a chance to really meet each other. Allen's told me so much about you, you know, now that we've finally been able to talk properly. Cleared up so many misconceptions." The Noah waved a hand gracefully in the air
Half a year ago he would have risen to the bait anyways, just for something to do, something to feel. But his time was his now, and the intent was different even if it was with the same steely glare and annoyed voice that he told the Noah to stop bothering him and either get to the point or let Moyashi talk to him, whichever could actually stop wasting his time first, he didn't care.
The Musician nodded approvingly and smiled so widely his eyes almost disappeared. Kanda thought he finally saw where the family resemblance to the Earl was. "I do love to see people getting along, all the better for me." The 14th Noah clapped his hands lightly in applause and Kanda glared at him until his skin lightened and the gold in his eyes faded to be replaced by Moyashi's gray.
"Kanda!" Moyashi's greeting sounded exactly the same as always, as if it had been right after the battle at the North American Branch when no one had known who would survive and not as if it were six months later and he was the head of a group of rebels trying to recruit another member to their ranks. It was like nothing had changed, but they both knew it had, and oddly, this time the smile on the idiot beansprout's face almost made him feel like he could save someone.
"Che," he said, because it suited all occasions and he just might have almost been dumb enough to be tempted to try and say something more, and that wouldn't be good and wasn't the sort of thing he did anyways.
"I wasn't sure if I would actually find you, but Neah said you would be here. He said someone had filled you in and that you would be coming."
"Neah?"
"Oh, the Fourteenth. That's his name." The irritatingly childish way the beansprout matter-of-factly stated this made him wonder what exactly he was doing for a moment.
"And you trust him?" he asked incredulously before he recognized that emotion for what it was. Emotion, clear now after years of feeling next to nothing, and it was nothing to fear. He might have laughed at that understanding if he had been a boy with a bell on his hood, or a general who cried at everything, or a girl who could fly, or anyone other than Kanda Yuu, who was busy doubting the mental facilities of a beansprout.
"Not completely, but we start somewhere" Walker said simply, and he sighed and flexed his sword hand. Indeed. Walker gave him a knowing look, and he glared back. "I'm really glad you're back, Kanda," the beansprout said sincerely.
"Che," he said again, because it was all he really needed to say.
-x-x-
There was a very dapper gentleman lounging on a tree at the side of the road. He was dressed as a proper European gentleman should be, with the many, many suffocating layers even in the subtropical heat. Long, curly dark hair was held back in a low ponytail, and a shiny leather boot dangled just high enough to avoid the heads of random passersby and out of reach of playing children. The Finders had gone ahead to secure lodgings for the night, so he took the moment to slow his pace and peer curiously at the man in the tree. The other seemed to feel his gaze and pushed the drooping top hat back to the top of his head and opened his eyes to peer at the traveler below him. For an instant, the man's eyes seemed to glow a beautiful liquid gold in the setting sun.
"Hello," he said awkwardly, because what did you say to someone you've just woken up from a nap in a tree?
"Hello," the stranger answered with an amused quirk of the lips. His words vibrated musically with some unknown accent. "Haven't seen you around here before. Are you here to see the miracle of the Shrine of the Thousand Flowers Lake?"
"Oh," he said. "Yes. Would you happen to know where it is?"
"Just keep following the road." The stranger waved airily in the direction he'd been traveling. "It's past the village, you can't miss it. The roads have been paved with flowers since the miracle. They say anyone who has seen the miracle achieves enlightenment. The whole atmosphere, it's like, what's the word? A carnival?"
"I think I know what you mean," he replied. "Thank you very much for your help."
"It's no problem at all." The stranger sat up on his branch so that both legs were swinging rhythmically above the road and waved him on cheerfully. "Until we meet again!"
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Friends
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Do you have friends, Yuu?
They stopped by the cottage he rented to pick up his few belongings. They would gate out to the Ark from the woods where an anti-detection barrier had been set up out of sight of curious eyes.
The beansprout didn't comment when he stopped by one of the gardens he had been hired to care for one last time to cut a ripe lotus pod from its stalk. The seeds rattled as they settled in his pouch, before finally resting against a cool sphere of black stone carefully wrapped in thick cloth.
He would plant them somewhere, after the war. Somewhere peaceful and quiet.
And this time, they would all watch the flowers bloom together.