Dead Fish
Summary: AU. One day Lavi found two strays and decided to keep them. Now he finds himself tangled in a web of mafia and dark magic, plus Kanda and Allen are not helpful. Yet at the end of the day it's the dead fish that go with the flow, and Lavi is still alive.
Main characters: Allen Walker, Yuu Kanda, Lavi.
Pairings: mild Yullen, if any. Romance is not main focus of this story.
Warnings: Swearing, dark themes. English is not my native language, so I apologize for the inevitable mistakes.
Disclaimer: D. Gray-Man (c) Katsura Hoshino. All other recognizable elements are probably not mine too.
Prologue
"If you are not willing to risk the unusual, you will have to settle for the ordinary."
Jim Rohn
Looking back at the chain of events, Lavi was convinced his meeting with Kanda – and subsequently Allen – was fated, so they were predestined best friends. Kanda disagreed saying it was just unfortunate coincidence that brought stupid rabbit to them. (Some may say that there is not such a thing as coincidence only inevitable, but that's neither here nor there.) And no one knew what Allen thought about it; he just smiled that annoying little smile of his and kept silent.
First thing Lavi thought when he had met Kanda, was that he – Lavi – was going to die right there and right then. That was quite a logical conclusion anyone would come to, seeing there was a muzzle of a big fucking gun digging a hole into his forehead. ("Stupid Kanda", would say Allen some time later, "always makes rotten first impressions, he is moronic like that.") While Lavi was less-than-thrilled at the perspective of the gruesome and premature death, his mystery-senses were tingling. That was the moment he had been waiting all twenty years of his life, the moment of the Big Decision (with capital B and D), the Chance of Adventure (with capital C and A), the Puzzle (with capital P)… That was a real mystery, not the kind of Lenalee's favorite type of underwear (pink cotton with funny pictures) or Komui's newest invention (a giant robot for making ideal coffee) but actual genuine mystery. Lavi could taste it on his tongue and feel the sparks in his blood. Thus it was understandable that he was not going to let it slip away, so he took a deep breath and dove straight in.
A few minutes earlier Lavi was going home from the grocery store. It was a nice autumn evening, a little bit chilly and windy but clear as only a rare October evening could be. Walking along the lane between tall old buildings he suddenly heard a deep low moan; whoever it was, he obviously was in pain. Lavi – a third-year medical student and a kindhearted and decent citizen – could not simply walk away and, like any sane person would do, he turned into the narrow alley he had heard noises from. ("That is not what any sane person would do," would grumble Kanda long afterwards, "only brainless rabbits." "Details, details.") There, hidden behind a trashcan, was a person with a large bundle in his arms. He wore some dark bulky clothes with a hood, and Lavi could only see the ends of dirty tangled black hair. There were dark stains on the wall and very strong smell of blood. Redhead gulped, but before he had time even to lean forward, he felt a gun on his forehead. That brought us to the aforementioned moment of Lavi's revelation.
Lavi did the only thing any normal person would do – he froze and slowly lifted his hands up.
"Whoa, buddy!" he said in his most not-threatening voice. "Let's not be hasty! I mean, peace, man. You're man, right? I'm completely harmless but awfully helpful guy. That's blood, right? I'm a medical student, so I can help you out, and I live not far away from here, it will take only five minutes at most. And I live alone, well, there is my grandfather, but Old Panda lives on the other side of the town and rarely visits me, so you can come home with me, and I'll treat your wounds, and there really is not any reason to kill me, I'll even be gentle with you and won't… tell… anyone…" Lavi trailed off, when he heard a distinguished click.
"Cut your crap, you're annoying," the man grumbled, and Lavi cursed his own curiosity, his life flashing before his eyes. In that moment the bundle in man's arms moved – 'A person? Perhaps a child,' Lavi thought absentmindedly – and moaned something, too low to hear. The man narrowed his eyes but lowered the gun. "You are a doctor," he stated. Lavi nodded. "You will help us. Or I will kill you," the man smirked. "I might kill you even if you help us."
"Yes, yes," said Lavi with some kind of relief. "You know, you should work on your people skills, my friend. It's not nice to threaten a person, who is willing to help. Smiles will take you much further with fewer complications!"
"Shut up," the man muttered standing up. He hid the gun under his jacket, hoisted his companion onto his back, hooking some kind of stick under the child's legs. The child – or maybe a girl or a short guy –sighed in pain and weakly hugged man's shoulders. The man swayed a little but quickly steadied himself.
"Maybe I should carry him," Lavi said dubiously but relented under silent glare. "Okay, okay! No need to get violent. Come on, sooner we come to my apartment, sooner I can treat your child."
"Not my child!"
"Okay, your friend."
"Not a friend," the man mumbled. "Stupid Beansprout," he added, as if it explained everything.
"I see," said Lavi. "Well, let's take your little not-a-friend somewhere the good doctor – it is I – will be able to help him."
"Why?"
"Huh? I can't do anything here."
"Why are you helping us?"
"Putting aside that I'm a compassionate and virtuous human being?"
"You are curious little shit. You can die."
"Are not we all? I mean, I'll die eventually, so…" Lavi shrugged.
"Hn."
When they stepped out onto the empty street, which led to Lavi's home, the man paused and sniffled? What was he, a dog? He sure behaved like an animal. Yes, a big unstable dog – or a cat – with a big gun he was not afraid to use. Lavi shivered in excitement, it was so thrilling.
It was already dark and a few street lamps lit up the way. It took about ten minutes to get to the redhead's apartment. He fumbled with keys a little and let his guests inside. Lavi was proud of his home, it was neither big, nor was it little. There were two bedrooms, a spacious living room, a kitchen and a bathroom. Not bad for a university student, if you asked his opinion.
The man carefully put his charge on the couch in the living room, strode to the large window and quickly closed the thick curtains. In the bright light Lavi noticed that the man was slightly shorter, than he; wore dark cargo pants, high boots and too big – stolen? – brown jacket. The stick, which he brought with him, turned out to be a sheathed sword. When the hood was down, Lavi saw that the man had distinct oriental features and long black hair and could not be older than twenty.
"Geez, we are on the seventh floor, no one could see you!" Lavi sighed and moved to examine the person on the couch.
"You do not know, if there is a sniper somewhere," the man silently moved out of the living room, apparently exploring.
"A sniper. I see. Nice law-obedient citizens like you always should worry about snipers. They are everywhere…" Lavi dramatically whispered removing an outer cloak from his unconscious patient.
He turned out to be a fifteen- maybe seventeen-year old boy, pale, slim with well-defined muscles and grayish hair. No, they were white, realized Lavi, just awfully dirty. The boy had strangely shaped red scar or a tattoo across left side of his face, through the eye no less. Lavi absentmindedly noted all this superficial details and soundly inhaled, the boy's left hand was black and smooth. It was not a tattoo or a burn, but something else, something powerful, entirely inhuman. Lavi shook his head – it was not the time to think about such things – and concentrated on wounds. The boy had deep cuts on both hands, bruise on the jaw, and a gash on the right side of his head – dried blood marring his hair. The right shoulder was obviously dislocated, and three fingers on the left hand bent at strange angles. The tight-fitting sleeveless turtleneck shirt the boy wore was in tatters, his torso covered in scratches. The worst thing was a deep wound across his chest, angry-red with inflammation. The boy was sweaty and burning with fever.
Lavi heard angry gasp from behind. He turned around trying to smile reassuringly at the man, who was looking at the boy with unreadable eyes.
"He won't die," muttered the man. "Too stubborn. Hey, Beansprout, if you die I'll fucking kill you."
"He is unconscious."
"I know."
"By the way, I'm Lavi. So what's your name? You don't have to tell, but then I'll just call you 'Hey, you' or something."
"…It's Kanda. Yuu Kanda."
"Well, dear Yuu-"
"Don't call me that!"
"But we are friends! Anyway, I need your help. You do know where the bathroom is, right? I want you to bring me some water, but before that, is your friend susceptible to healing magic?"
"You are a healer?"
"To some degree. My Gramps is much better, but all you had is I."
"Then do it. He won't die."
"Right. Then, Yuu, the buckets are under the sink."
Kanda gritted his teeth but disappeared in the bathroom. Lavi removed boy's shirt, laid his hands on the wound, concentrated, and began incantation.
Healing magic was not some kind of miracle cure, though it could be useful to a certain extent and could cure some otherwise incurable diseases, like snotty nose or cancer. The most important problem with healing magic was that the exact spells for different diseases did not exist, or more precisely they did, but the usage of every spell strictly depended on the user. One could cure running nose for a two whole hours, another could cure chronic bronchitis with the same incantation. In addition, healing magic was extremely tiring and draining process only a few selected could do and not everyone could receive it. In most cases healing magic would not do a thing or even would do more harm than good. Only if the patient was susceptible to it, healing magic would work.
When Kanda returned with two buckets of warm water, Lavi had already finished.
"You look green."
"No wonder," Lavi exhaled and began to clean dried blood. "I set his shoulder and fingers, closed his most serious wounds, and somewhat accelerated regenerative process, though it already had been abnormally fast. Oh, and boosted his immune system a bit, that should take care about this nasty inflammation, but when I tried to reduce his fever …"
"He normally has higher temperature."
"I see. There is another thing… I know it going to sound completely crazy, but your little friend here… well, he do not have a heart."
Kanda narrowed his eyes but kept silent.
"I mean," Lavi continued hurriedly, "there definitely is something; it pumps blood throughout blood vessels, this guy is alive after all. But it's not a heart. This… substance rejects my magic completely and evades any probing."
"Innocence," muttered Kanda and absentmindedly massaged his own chest with his knuckles. Lavi noticed the motion and filed it away for further consideration.
"What?"
"Innocence. Don't touch it."
"Okay. Then I finished with your innocent friend here, so you may put him in bed in the guest bedroom and take a shower. I'll see to your wounds after."
"No need. I'll live," Kanda slowly backed away.
"So will he. Don't worry I'm so drained I wouldn't be able to use magic; I'll just bandage the worst."
In Lavi's opinion, it was funny and cute how Kanda vehemently denied any kind of friendship between him and the white haired boy, but was extremely protective of him at the same time. Lavi silently observed how tenderly Kanda put his companion in bed and gently brushed stray hairs from the boy's eyes.
"What."
"Nothing, nothing," Lavi defensively raised his hands up. "Go on, have your sweet moment. You can even kiss him goodnight, I won't peep."
Kanda's cheeks slightly reddened. "I'll kill you."
Kanda, Lavi decided looking at the furious man while dodging swift sword attacks, was a beautiful example of human species. He was lean, muscular and gracious; aesthetically perfect despite his disheveled appearance. To Lavi's genuine delight Kanda had zero communicational skills; he was rude and foul-mouthed, had a bad temper, and was prone to teasing. Many scratches covered the man's body, his sleeveless turtleneck shirt shredded, and it was obvious he had not had a bath for a few days.
"You smell," said Lavi jumping on a couch.
"Stop hopping, fucking Rabbit! Stand still so I can kill you."
"It would be rather stupid of me, don't you think?" He evaded a swing that nearly sliced him in half.
"You already are stupid." Kanda made a lunge.
"You should not move so much with such injuries. It's unhealthy." Lavi ducked under the table. It was so much fun, he decided.
"All finished!" declared Lavi tying a last bandage. "Yuu, my friend, you may go to bed. …Though there is only one bed," he said uncertainly.
"It is big enough," Kanda gritted his teeth and quickly retreated to the guest bedroom leaving Lavi all alone.
'They don't mind sharing a bed, huh? I smell a story here,' he thought excitedly. 'But that's for tomorrow.'
Dear Diary,
Today I found two stray dogs, might as well keep them.
Sincerely yours, Lavi.