Kanda chewed his bottom lip, worrying the smooth flesh so much that it nearly bled. He closed his eyes and opened them, only to gaze upon the last two petals, clinging to the shriveling stalk weakly. He didn't dare touch the glass covering of the delicate flower.

He fought back a shudder as a stray wind blew in through the unfixed cracks in his window, the missing pieces of glass swept away by one of the workers. He donned a beige sweater, clutching it close to himself to save as much body heat as possible.

There's no real need to stay at the Black Order anymore, he thought absentmindedly. "General" Allen would definitely make up for his absence. Another missing exorcist wouldn't be missed much. His wounds were healing slower, he noted – much slower. It was only a matter of time… Kanda walked towards his window, watching as the snow gently fell upon the ground. Allen and Lavi were making snowmen and Linali stood safely out of the way it turned into a flurry of furious snowballs, their boisterous laughter almost made him want to smile. His fingers clenched at the window sill, and he sighed, turning away. The room seemed just a little bit colder after that.

As he walked down to the indoor hot springs, he grabbed a towel and a plain T-shirt with a pair of sweatpants and his loose sweater – everything loose comfortable unlike his usual garb.

The hot springs were thankfully empty (and the muck from a certain incident thanks to Komui's chemicals was cleaned out). Kanda sank into the water, basking in the blissfully warm water and the sweet sound of silence. He yawned, snuggling against the smooth surface of the rocks comfortably. He had been feeling more tired lately, and there was a certain weariness all the way deep down in his bones that he couldn't quite explain, especially when he had to do anything that required his body to exert more effort than usual. Maybe he was getting old…

He quickly dismissed that thought. He hadn't even grown a single strand of white hair yet, unlike that moyashi.

His fingers were starting get pruney, though Kanda would've been more than happy to become soup if it meant getting a few more minutes of warmth. Yes, he'd be very happy soup. His window probably wasn't fixed yet just to spite him.

He sighed, standing up and quickly dressed, leaving the shirt and sweater for last as he inspected his arms. He was paler than most Asians, but on his light olive skin, the white scars were pearl inlays, stretching over the flesh from his elbows to a couple inches from his wrist. He had always made an effort to hide them – the last thing he needed was Lavi or Linali, and probably Allen, on his case, demanding why he was cutting himself and that he had to stop. But he couldn't, not with the missions. He had to keep icy.

But I can stop if I leave now, he thought, fingering one of the many white scars. The lotus didn't heal self-inflicted wounds.

It was difficult to think clearly sometimes. He liked to think that it was all Allen's fault. That stupid moyashi. Trying to make him see the good in everything, jumbling up his mind when he didn't want it to be mixed up. But Kanda never said anything about it. Not that Allen would listen to him anyway. He go one and on about –

"Kanda?"

The disbelief in younger boy's voice shook him out of reverie, and Kanda snapped his gaze up. Allen was glancing downward, his gaze falling on the long, thin scars that decorated Kanda's arms. He quickly pulled on his T-shirt and sweater, glaring at the general while doing so.

"You might as well use the bath. I was just leaving."

Kanda shuddered, just a little bit as he felt Allen's sharpened stare trying to bore its way through his back. "Kanda, stand still," Allen commanded in his "General Allen" voice. He groaned inwardly, turning his blank face at the English boy.

"Yes?" he said, his tone flat and dry. "What do you want?" An expression of concern settled on Allen's pale face.

"Kanda, those scars --,"

"Are none of your concerns," Kanda interrupted. Walking away, he could feel the claw-like hand slipping around his wrist, clenching painfully tightly.

"Kanda, are you going through something? I'm always there to talk to you know --,"

"I don't need your stupid help!" Kanda shouted. "I'm fine." He ripped his arm away, storming down the halls as fast as possible. Bewildered, Allen stood there, his silver eyes eyeing the covered, scarred arms.