All I (Don't) Want for Christmas, aka something I found on my hard drive last night and foolishly decided to work on.

Shamelessly inspired by a certain story about a combat butler sharing a voice actor with a certain exorcist.

Mostly just proof that I am still alive. (I will have my life back in mid-January, but I might manage to update a bit before then)

So yeah, let's see what happens…

-o0o-

Allen had never quite understood this festive season thing. He hadn't really minded it though, not exactly, because Christmas parties and such typically meant a buffet, and a buffet typically meant a chance to stuff himself. Mind you, being included in Christmas parties was a relatively recent thing in his life, given that he could rarely contribute with more than his virtually bottomless stomach.

That said, Allen's classmates liked him, generally speaking. However, things had become a bit awkward since they had come to realise that Allen's obsession with money wasn't just him being stingy; it was him ensuring his continued survival. That said, Allen didn't really resent them for that; they were normal and blissfully ignorant to a side of reality Allen occasionally lived in. Besides, Allen had other, far more deserving targets for his resentment.

"Those who don't work don't get to eat" was absolutely wonderful in theory. In practice however, it did not seem to apply, at the very least not to certain people determined to make Allen's life as difficult as possible.

Unfortunately, most of them tended to hold positions of relative authority in Allen's life. Among them was Allen's guardian, Cross Marian, the lousy excuse for a human being whose illicit affairs had forced them to move very abruptly from Kolkata in India to Shanghai in China and then onwards to Tokyo, Japan. And now, now the bastard had seen it fit to rake up another bunch of debts, seal them inside an envelope and leave them behind as some sort of reverse Christmas present. Or birthday present. Truth to be told, Allen wasn't entirely clear on the details. He was only really clear about one thing at the moment.

"I'm definitely killing him, consequences be damned," he muttered, biting into his thumb. "Even if I have to do it with my bare hands."

All things considered though, maybe poison? Or, even better, by manipulating the husband of one of Cross' conquests to do it for him?

"Killing who?"

Allen snapped his head around, surprised at first, then mildly exasperated. "Didn't I tell you not to wander around on your own at night?" he asked.

"But I'm not on my own; I'm here with you," she said, giving the umbrella above her head a slight twirl.

Yeah, as if that was somehow better. "I also told you to go home," Allen said, resisting a surfacing urge to just get up and leave, because she could leave. She should leave, as a matter of fact.

"But how can I get home if I'm not allowed to walk on my own?" she asked, a definite smile playing on her lips.

Allen would have snapped at her to call a taxi. But as it was, he was not into the habit of being rude to little girls. He would have even offered to call a taxi for her, had his phone not died roughly fifteen minutes prior. "Fine, I'll give you a ride! Unless you mind breaking a few traffic safety laws, that is?"

She obviously didn't. However, she did look rather surprised when Allen shrugged off his jacket, handing her the jacket first and the helmet second.

"Put them on. My head's probably thicker than yours, and I get cold just by looking at you," Allen commented, swinging his leg over the frame.

She complied, putting on the jacket first and then the helmet, even pausing to reach up and adjust the straps. Given how often he had worn it, Allen had no doubt that it didn't smell very nice, but she didn't complain, so Allen didn't comment. "Good, now get on," he said instead, mentally tacking on an 'or get lost' for the mere heck of it.

She made use of the bench to reach the bicycle rack. It couldn't be very comfortable, sure, but it wasn't like they could switch places either, with her legs being far too short to reach the pedals. She didn't complain about it her new position either and simply grabbed hold of his waist.

"So," Allen said, unable to escape the notion that this was just one bad idea out of many. "Where to?"

-o0o-

Where to next?

Just hours prior, he had asked himself that same question.

Where to next?

It was a good question. Unfortunately, there were no good answers.

"Are you all alone out here? Wanna come and play with us?"

Five delinquents, cornering a girl against a vending machine. The girl was wearing a thin dress shirt, a short skirt with frills, and striped leggings beneath that. She was short, positively dwarfed by the two delinquents directly up front, and fairly young; even from a distance, Allen could tell.

"Say, we're headed for a karaoke bar. Wanna come? We'd obviously treat you."

Disgusting and rather clichéd. Still, it was technically none of his business. Technically.

"Hey, girl, come oooon. It's cold out here, don't you think?"

It was definitely chilly, and rather late in the evening at that. And it was technically none of his business, but still− It was Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve. Christmas-Freaking-Eve. Not that it mattered of course, not really, no longer.

Overlooking the scene, Allen Walker considered his options. Now was really no time for him to play the hero; he was in a decidedly precarious situation himself, and shouldn't really take on anyone else's problems.

For one thing, he only had pocket change at his disposal; nowhere near enough for anything useful. Heck, it was doubtful it would buy him more than maybe a coke and a candy bar.

Allen had come to this realisation earlier, back when he had been seated upon one of the nearby swings, his bike hidden away in the bushes. Now, he was also hiding in the bushes with his hood up both to conceal his features and to protect his ears from the cold, because now that he had stopped moving for the most part, he definitely felt it. And, if he didn't do anything about it soon, then frostbite might just be added to his growing list of worries.

Christmas Eve or not, now was not the time to play the hero. That said however−

-o0o-

Jab to the throat. Knee to the stomach. The first guy had already gone down before the rest seemed to realise what was happening. Allen smiled then, a wide, wicked smile, as two of those remaining immediately went on the offensive.

They were amateurs though, and so was he, albeit a fairly skilled and experienced one. He wouldn't have been alive otherwise.

"You−" He sidestepped the first punch, grabbed the arm and tripped the guy. Another barely managed to evade getting caught up in the fall, but swiftly found his standing again and pulled out a folded knife, flipping it open. From the sounds of it, others had followed suit.

Knives didn't scare him. Few things did. Allen had brawled with far more skilled and oftentimes also armed delinquents in the past. That said, it was hardly safe, because one opponent was one thing and four another. Then again, four to one also meant that there would be no need to hold back, did it not?

He cracked his knuckles and readied his stance. There was someone that he would much rather punch the living daylights out of, but hey, voluntary substitu−

-o0o-

"You're bleeding."

Allen looked up. His hood had been pushed back in the earlier scuffle, leaving them on full display, illuminated by the streetlight just off to the side. There were probably surveillance cams as well. Allen should have really thought about that beforehand. Still, hindsight is 20/20 and all that.

After assessing the severity of the cut, Allen shrugged mildly. "I've had worse," he simply offered up, turning his attention towards his fallen opponents.

The delinquents lay all around him, some out cold, some still groaning in pain, but all of them bruised and at least two of them with cracked ribs and cuts.

Then he looked back up. She was still there, watching. Her eyes were a decidedly unusual colour, almost amber; contacts, maybe? In any case, Allen would have much preferred it if she had taken the opportunity to run off during the fight, because if possible, then he would have preferred gathering his spoils without an audience.

"Let me," she said, pulling out a handkerchief.

Allen would very much rather not. Still, he could see her point and shrugged off the jacket, not wanting to bloody his clothes any more than strictly necessary.

"Thank you," he said once she had finished tying the handkerchief around his arm. Then, after pulling his jacket back on, he bent down to retrieve a wallet that had oh-so-conveniently fallen out of someone's pocket, slipping it inside his own. "And Merry Christmas and all that."

He retrieved his bike and wasted no time to get back on the road. Still− "Don't walk around alone at night!" he called out to her. "There's dangerous people out there!"

-o0o-

He hadn't expected to run into her again, much less for her to seek him out. How had she found him anyway? This was a really big city. Besides, she had overheard him planning to murder someone, but had not even batted an eyelid, which was definitely not normal. Besides, there was something about the way that she looked at him that unnerved him. Still, a promise was a promise, and even if she was a bit creepy, she was still waaaay too young to be out here on her own, especially in that kind of clothing. And so…

"This place? Are you really sure this is the place?"

His day had started out so normally, and it had stayed pretty normal up until the point he had lost his part-time job as a courier for lying about his age, then found the envelope with the debts and then been forced to escape a bunch of loan sharks by jumping from a third storey window. Then he had saved(?) a creepy girl from a bunch of delinquents and promised to bring the girl home, which had brought him here, up to this point.

"Yep, it belongs to my grandfather. I'm Road, by the way."

The garden was ridiculously large for being in Tokyo. Allen would have mistaken it for a park of some sort, had it not been for the sizeable house located on the property. Money, he thought. Quite a lot of it too, if this place served as any sort of indication. It explained a lot, but also very little.

While watching Road fiddle with the intercom, Allen was unable to refrain from wondering just how much she could be worth. Not that he was planning on kidnapping her or anything. As a matter of fact, Allen himself had been kidnapped in the past, so, been there, done that; it had not been a very nice experience. Besides, he had no hideout and no resources, so− "I should really get going," he said, putting his helmet back on. "Can I have my jacket back?"

"Are you sure you don't want to come inside?" she countered, shrugging off the jacket.

It was a tempting offer, but a strange one. Still− "Thanks, but I don't want to intrude," he said, slipping back into the jacket. "I'm off."

And off he was, pedalling. On one hand, he kind of regretted not taking the offer. On the other, he felt distinctively as though he had just escaped something with his life.

There was not a whole lot of traffic, which was good, because it was even darker now, darker and colder, and his breath was like a white cloud in the air. It felt a bit like it might snow, but he wasn't entirely certain, and in general, he just felt strangely numb about everything. Considering the cut on his arm, that probably wasn't a very good thing.

"You're in shock," he reminded himself. "You didn't mentally prepare yourself for this."

The thing is, he had been prepared for a few of today's events, but only for them to appear one by one, not for them all to slam into him on a single day. And, speaking of slamming−

Allen veered, slamming on the breaks as a freaking limousine shot out in front of him. "What the−?" Heck, the car also screeched to a halt; a bad sign if Allen ever saw one.

Within moments, a door had opened, and a blonde woman had stepped out. Looking at her, Allen got three very distinct impressions.

One: Professional.

Two: Dangerous.

Three: Annoyed.

She also appeared to be on the phone with someone, speaking rapidly in Japanese, all while looking him up and down before apparently finding him lacking.

Allen had no idea what this was all about, really, but he sure as heck wasn't planning on waiting to find out. Well, such was the plan anyway.

"Hi Allen!" Road cheerfully greeted him with a wave from the phone's screen, her voice on speaker phone. "I told Grandfather about you, and he wants to meet you. I hope you don't mind."

She was wearing large headphones, and there was a lot of noise in the background. Coming to think of it, it did sound remarkably similar to the helicopter closing in on their position.

The realisation made him slightly dizzy, and he stepped off the bike, pulling off his helmet.

"How do you know my name?" he finally managed, feeling increasingly bewildered. "I never introduced myself…"

Did he?

"Your student ID was in your pocket," she responded, and that made sense. So, so much sense. That was just about the only thing that did however.

He shielded his eyes from the bright light of the helicopter's search beam as it flooded the intersection. Strong gusts of wind tore at him, growing stronger as the helicopter began its descent, redirecting the snowflakes falling quietly from the skies.

The urge to vault over the nearby barrier and make a mad dash for the nearest narrow dark alleyway was strong, but that would have meant abandoning his most reliable mode of transportation. It would also have meant having to face the forces stationed on the ground.

This wasn't how he had planned on spending Christmas Eve. This wasn't how he had planned on spending any day really, but as ever, the timing was awful. Exceptionally awful. Still− "At least it isn't aliens dressed up like Santa's little helpers…"

Or homicidal debt collectors. But truth to be told, he was not entirely certain if he preferred the alternative.

-o0o-

To Be Continued?