It's Not What You Think:
D. Gray-Man/Karneval Crossover. The Black Order is devastated when Kanda, Allen, Lavi and Lenalee vanish days apart. Circus is left reeling when Gareki's search for Yogi and Nai ends in disaster. When Mana Walker's and Marian Cross's pasts collide with the children of Ship Two's futures, Chief Komui, and Captains Hirato and Tsukitachi stand to lose everything they hold dear.
Disclaimer:
The D. Gray-Man characters are under copyright or license by Katsura Hoshino, Shueisha, Madman Entertainment, Viz Media, Kaya Kizaki, TMS Entertainment, Funimation Entertainment and/or Manga Entertainment. The Karneval characters are under copyright or license by Tōya Mikanagi, Ichijinsha, Madman Entertainment, Yen Press, Manglobe, Funimation and/or Manga Entertainment. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.
A/N:
A new chapter will be posted every week, on Thursday, until the story is complete. Different chapters are in the points of view (POV) of different characters. A POV change or time change within a chapter will be marked with "0 0 0". Reviews, favorites and follows are appreciated.
If you like this story and my Attack on Titan stories, you might also like my original published work, the four book high fantasy series, Descent of Kings, by Maria Albert, available on Amazon and through the publisher, Dreamspinner.
Prelude - MIA
Chief Komui sat in his immaculate office, slumped over his desk, his head in his hands, his formerly ebullient manner vanished as if it had never been. He hadn't laughed or smiled, eaten or slept, or even bathed or changed his clothes in days. He'd instead cleaned his office with the single-minded, driven purpose of having something, anything constructive to do, to take his mind off his worries. Not that it had helped relieve a single iota of tension.
The Millennium Earl was apparently no longer satisfied with attacking their Exorcists on land, in the various once thriving towns and small cities infested by his Akuma. Now he was either sinking or capturing the ships they travelled upon instead. Komui almost prayed it was the former. The knowledge that the missing men might have been captured by that sadistic madman, that they might have already been enduring days of unknown tortures, that at this very moment they might all be in excruciating agony, was rapidly driving him mad as well.
When his phone rang Komui jumped and swallowed hard. "Not another one. Please. Not Lenalee," he whispered, his hand trembling in dread as it hovered over the phone, reluctant to answer, for fear of what he might hear. His sister should have called in days ago. She knew he worried about her incessantly. Much as she balked at his concern, and insisted he was being overprotective, she never would have voluntarily been out of contact with him for this long.
It could be a Finder: someone with word of Kanda or Allen or Lavi. Or even Lenalee herself. Good news. Please be good news, he begged silently as he lifted the receiver to his ear. "Chief Komui," he said gruffly, his voice sounding gravelly from disuse, his mouth almost too dry to speak.
"Chief Komui, this is Finder Tome," the man said, giving Komui a false instant of hope, until he remembered Tome wasn't working anywhere near the missing three. He was in the port city of Safe Harbor, to meet Lenalee's ship, the Reliable. At least her Finder had reached his destination safely, from his last report, and was obviously yet well. It was a small but not insignificant load off his mind.
"I'm relieved you're still alright. You haven't reported in for two days and we've been unable to reach you. That's not like you," he chastised, delaying voicing the question he most wanted answered, out of fear for what that answer would be. If Lenalee was with him, surely she'd have called me herself?
"I'm sorry, sir. I've repeatedly tried, but there have been unseasonable storms in the area, and atmospheric interference prevented the signal from getting through," Tome apologized.
Storms. The word sent a shiver of dread down his spine. The other Finders all reported unusual storms, in the areas our three Exorcists went missing. Dear God, please, you can't. "Please tell me you're calling to report the Reliable has docked safely," Komui urged, fighting to keep his voice calm and level, as if that might make his wish come true.
There was a brief pause, long enough for Komui's heart to freeze.
"No sir. I'm at the Harbor Master's office now. They just received word that the Reliable never made it to her previous port of call, in Eastbrook. The message barely made it through to us. The Reliable… I'm sorry sir. The ship's been officially declared lost at sea." Tome's normally calm voice cracked as he uttered the final, damning sentence.
Lost? Lost. LOST.
Komui swallowed three times before he was able to speak. "I understand. She's not the first. Three other ships carrying our personnel have also been reported missing. There's a search currently underway for Exorcists Yu Kanda, Allen Walker and Lavi. You are to head the search in your sector, and to relay information regarding my sister's disappearance to every other Finder you come in contact with. Our communications have been spotty at best. None of you are to return to base until the four of them are found, is that understood?" The order was an irrational one, but he didn't care. Reason had nothing to do with this.
"Allen? And Kanda and Lavi? All of them? They…? Yes sir! Understood. We won't rest until we've found them," Tome swore fiercely.
He was a good man. An excellent Finder. They all were good men. Like family.
They weren't enough.
Komui looked around his hideously clean, sterile, perfectly ordered office, desperately seeking faces that weren't there. Without Lenalee…. He refused to continue the thought. He had to stay in control, to remain focused, to coordinate the search. For all their sakes.
0 0 0
Chapter 1 - Any Port in a Storm
Allen Walker stood at the bow of the Perseverance, a heavy coil of hemp rope draped over his right shoulder. Both arms were bare, the too big sleeves of his ridiculously large, salt encrusted cotton sailor's shirt rolled up to the elbows, the skin on his right arm burnt nearly as red as that of his unnatural, inhuman left arm, by the sun. After days of unrelenting wind and rain and waves towering over the ship, he had welcomed the sun, burn and all, for the three days it had shone, before clouds had engulfed the sky each night, though thankfully this time white and fluffy ones, not roiling, black, ominous ones.
The crew had long since gotten used to the sight of his anti-Akuma weapon arm and stopped crossing themselves against him, as if he were a demon in their midst. His monstrous arm had held the broken main mast aloft for the entire final night of the storm, ensuring they didn't lose the crucial mast to the sea, until the water stopped swamping the deck, and the winds and rain died down enough for the crew to lash a beam to the splintered wood of the mast, a temporary fix, until they made landfall and could drydock and overhaul the entire ship, to repair the astonishing damage the storm had caused.
Half drowned, barely conscious and chilled to the bone, Allen had slept under a mound of blankets belowdecks for nearly twenty-four hours after finally prying his hand from the mast, and had been ravenous upon waking. Fortunately, the ship's galley stores had survived the storm relatively intact, the number of cases and barrels shattered and scattered or wetted beyond use minimal, and most of the rest of the crew was still too injured or seasick to have much of an appetite, so Allen was able to eat his fill without guilt.
He'd spent the three days since on deck, manning any position in need of an extra pair of hands, filling in for whichever of the men yet confined to their bunks or hammocks belowdecks were needed, stopping only for meals and when exhausted sleep overtook him. The life of a sailor was even more physically demanding than that of an Exorcist, but he'd done his best, thankful for the first time in a long time that he had such diverse experience working numerous jobs even aboard ships, all gained while trying to pay off his mentor, General Cross's, endless debts. Even thought of the man was not enough to dampen his spirits, which though thoroughly waterlogged before, had bounced back brightly, with their usual resilience.
The hysterically welcome, exuberant cry of "Land ho!" a short while ago had been taken up by over a dozen throats, by the men still on deck, those not too sick or injured to help guide the floundering ship, as she limped towards shore. Thanks to the incessant cloud cover of the past three nights, they still had no clue what port they might be headed towards. It was impossible to steer by the stars when those selfsame vital markers in the heavens remained hidden. Williams, the Second Mate, who had been acting Captain for the past four days, had finally just let the current guide them, from the position of the sun alone knowing that it was taking them east, praying it led to land, and thankfully, his prayers had been answered.
"It's Ship's Haven!" a voice cried out in shocked recognition and wonder, and there was a babble of astonished voices.
Timcanpy darted over their heads, as if he were as excited as they were by the news. Perhaps he had been to Ship's Haven sometime in his travels with General Cross.
Thankfully, Williams called down from the wheel, before Allen could become too aggravated thinking about his infuriating and disappointing mentor, or worse, begin mourning Mana anew.
"Sorry, lad! That storm blew us off course worse than I thought. Ye're nearly two hundred kilometers from where I'd promised ta bring ye. But ye can get a ship from here going ta anywhere in the world ye'd care ta be. Four different currents converge just outside this harbor. And from the look of the port, we're not the only stray the winds have blown this way after that storm, although it appears there may have been more than one area of bad weather. I don't think I've ever seen so many ships in a single city, and I've not seen some of those since the last time I was in the Orient. It looks like there are ships here all the way from China!" the man said in awe.
China? Kanda is in China. Although probably back at base, by now, unless he's been delayed for some reason too. Allen searched the Chinese Dragon Ships for signs of his friend: though it was still too far away to make out individual faces on the decks, their distinctive black Exorcist coats were trimmed with silver, made to be blatantly visible, to be seen from a distance. He scanned the surrounding docks for the bright yellow and white uniform of any Finders, too, in vain, but he knew that, just because he didn't see any, didn't mean there wasn't one or more of them deeper in the city.
They were in practically every town and in many of the smaller cities. The Millenium Earl tended to concentrate his efforts in those places and avoid the larger cities, places big enough to cause substantial destruction and mayhem, yet small enough for him to easily find his next prey. Just thinking about that evil monster made Allen eager to return to base, so he could head out on his next assignment, when for days all he'd thought about was being back at Headquarters, with his friends, particularly when it had looked like he might never see any of them again.
The ship was guided to one of the few empty berths by a small boat sent by the Harbormaster, as Allen stayed at his post, eyeing the various ships, and then, when they were closer, watching the dock they were approaching intently. Once they finally docked, Allen tossed the coil of rope to the pier, and then leapt lightly from the bow to the dock, and secured the rope to one of the enormous, sturdy cleats bolted to the wooden beam through the planking. Then he climbed the rope back onboard, not wanting to wait for the gangplank.
He needed to recover his packs, his rucksack and the travel bag than now held his Exorcist's coat, clothes and boots, as well as his spare sailor shirt. He'd need to find an inn, where he could bathe and change, as well as eat, and then try to find a phone or a Finder, so he could report in to base. He hoped they weren't too worried about him.
"It sounds like you've been here before. Do you know of a good inn where I might not cause too much commotion?" Allen asked.
"You'll cause a stir wherever ye go, lad. I don't think this city has seen an Exorcist in years, if ever. But ye'll be wanting the Journey's End. They've the best food I've ever tasted, the finest ale I've ever drunk, the softest beds I've ever slept in and the prettiest serving girls I've ever… well, a young man like ye will appreciate the food and the bed, at least," he amended, grinning and winking.
Allen felt his face flush. He wasn't interested in girls at all, as anything other than friends, like Lenalee, and his age had nothing to do with it. He again briefly scanned the docks for signs of Kanda and then, feeling ridiculous for being so disappointed not seeing him, he forced himself to pay attention as Williams gave him detailed directions for how to find the inn.
"Thanks, Williams. Safe voyage, and may the wind be at yer back, when ye're ready to leave port," Allen added, the traditional sailors' parting phrase he'd learned while onboard.
"Safe travels ta ye, as well, lad!" Williams said, giving him a hearty slap on the back that would have sent him reeling only a week ago.
The man laughed heartily when Allen kept his balance. "Told ye we'd make a sailor out of ye."
"Aye, that ye did," Allen replied, with an answering grin, easily slipping into the vernacular of the sailors all around him. Then he rolled down his sleeves and put on his gloves, and pulled his knit cap further down, tucking in the stray wisps of white hair that tried to escape, and headed down the gangplank, feeling something like a pirate, Timcanpy perched on his shoulder like an unlikely golden parrot.
The streets were as packed as the docks, and it was odd walking without receiving a single curious glance in his direction. Allen was used to his purposefully distinctive coat, his white hair, his cursed eye, his red arm and the glowing green cross on the back of his left hand attracting all kinds of attention, much of it hostile, but he was instead viewed as just another sailor, or perhaps as a boy playing at being one. The thought made him blush.
Finally reaching his destination, he stood outside the raucous sounding inn, only hesitating for a moment, realizing the entire main room wouldn't fall silent the moment he walked in this time, as usually happened.
Once he opened the door, the noise level increased sixfold. He headed resolutely for the counter in the back of the inn, where a well-muscled middle-aged woman still maintaining some of the beauty of her youth was busy writing in a ledger.
"Excuse me? I'm looking for a room for the night, well, for at least one night, and maybe more, a bath, and a hot meal and a phone," Allen said loudly, eager to be heard over the chaos.
"You're in luck, if you don't mind sharing. We had two men leave not ten minutes ago, and only one man ahead of you. I've heard there's not a single room left in the city, what with all the extra ships in port, from the storms. I warned the new man that he'd be sharing, so no matter how much he scowls at you, you have every right to be there. You just ask for Marlene if he gets rough, and I'll black his eye for him, pretty face or no," the innkeeper said.
"We're already bringing a bath to the room, he requested one as well, and he needed one, believe you me. That one reeked of vomit, but many of my customers have, these past few days. I'm afraid he'll get first use of the bath. But we'll change the water, don't you worry. The room, bath and meal will be ten silver total. I should charge you fifteen, but I feel sorry for a sweet, polite young man like you having such a surly roommate. As for the phone, we can't help you there. There aren't any in the city. They never really caught on here. Too unreliable, with our weather," she apologized.
Allen took off his right glove, reached into his purse and handed her fifteen silver. "I know I don't look it, but I eat as much as two men, at least, and sometimes even five. After I'm done with my meal, if that's not enough to cover what I've eaten, please let me know."
She laughed and shook her head, only taking two of the five-pieces, resolutely closing his fingers over the third. "You keep it, lad. A good meal is the least I can do for you, to compensate for that rude, ill-tempered man. I've half a mind to kick him out and give you the room to yourself, but that would be bad for business."
Allen swallowed hard, picturing a hulking, towering man like General Cross, but someone who might try to beat him as well as belittle him. But he couldn't be too scary, if Marlene could take him on, could he? Or did she feel safer, knowing she was a woman, and many of the men here would likely aid her in a fight? Although her muscles were actually pretty impressive, especially for a woman her age.
He forced a smile to his lips. "I'll be fine. I'm tougher than I look," he assured her truthfully. But he was used to fighting Akuma, not people. In the past, he'd always smiled and gambled his way out of trouble, or run, when necessary. He'd run a dismaying number of times, actually, now that he thought about it.
"Alright then. It's up the stairs, the last room at the end of the hall, on your left. Here's your key. He has one of his own, of course."
"Thank you," Allen said sincerely, as he turned and headed for the stairs, not at all eager to meet his roommate, but desperately eager for his bath. Hopefully, once the man realized he was an Exorcist, he wouldn't try to bully him or start any trouble. If he even knew what one was. Williams' words made him uneasy. He was used to the deference, respect and even fear people showed him. Few wanted to risk angering the Black Order against them, though in reality, they'd never harm the humans it was their sworn duty to protect. Although it didn't sound as if the man was a local, either, so there was no telling where he'd come from. Hopefully he'd respect the coat, even if he wasn't impressed by the man wearing it.
Timcanpy rose from his shoulder and flew ahead, up the stairs, either scouting for danger or just curious to see what the rest of the inn looked like. He sighed. It looked like he wouldn't be calling in to the Order anytime soon, unless there was a Finder in the city for some reason. He hoped his friends weren't worried about him.
Allen climbed the stairs and headed for the door Marlene had described. He debated knocking, but he had every right to be in the room, and using the key would help illustrate that. He unlocked the door and opened it, striding in confidently, having only a single instant to process the alarming fact that the tiny, seemingly empty room had only a single, large bed before an arm snaked around his waist from behind pulling him back into a hard body as a blade pressed against his throat and the door slammed behind him, trapping him in the room with his attacker, leaving Timcanpy, the only witness to the assault, outside.
Allen's arm and hand expanded, shredding both shirtsleeve and glove, and he ripped the naked blade away from his throat, and flung it across the room, as he spun away from his attacker and then froze and stared mutely in shock. Kanda?
"Bean Sprout?" Kanda sounded as astonished as Allen felt. "What the hell are you doing here? And where are your clothes?" Kanda demanded.
Allen felt his face blush as red as his arms as he sputtered, still unable to speak. Kanda was asking him that? He wasn't the one who was naked!
His mortification that Kanda had been holding him like that while he was naked was forgotten as he realized how terrible Kanda looked: his hair was unkempt, dull and matted, his skin was pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, he looked like he'd lost weight he couldn't afford to lose, and he smelled awful, like bellowdeck on the Perseverance.
"What happened to you? Are you ill? Do you need a doctor?" Allen fluttered solicitously.
A look that on anyone else might have been embarrassment flashed across Kanda's studiedly impassive face. "I'm fine. It was a rough voyage. I just need a bath and some sleep, and then maybe some soup or bread. But where's your coat, and the rest of your clothes? Were you shipwrecked or something?"
Had that actually been concern in Kanda's voice? Allen didn't think he'd heard Kanda say so much at once, well, ever.
Allen's attention was brought to an anxious tapping at the window, but he couldn't see past the drawn curtain. Suspecting the source, he headed for the window. Sure enough, when he opened the curtain, he saw Timcanpy, who fortunately hadn't been frantic enough to break the window.
"Stop recording for a while, OK? Kanda's here, but he's not dressed," Allen explained, through the window glass, before opening it. The thought of Komui or anyone else viewing a video record of a naked Kanda bothered him, for reasons other than Kanda's own potential embarrassment, which he really didn't want to spend time thinking about, especially now, with Kanda naked. He doubted Kanda cared. He certainly seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that he was nude in front of Allen, as he retrieved his Innocence sword, Mugen from across the room, where Allen had thrown it.
The realization sent a bolt of shock through Allen. "I disarmed you," he said in wonder.
"Tch," Kanda said in disgust, apparently thinking he was gloating, which wouldn't have been fair at all, considering Kanda was probably a lot weaker now than usual, from what he'd said, and how awful he looked.
"No, Kanda, I mean, I'm not supposed to be able to, not when your Innocence is in weapon form. No one can touch or use our weapons but each of us, right? But I did," Allen insisted. This was important. From all they knew, only the Akuma and the Earl had that power.
Kanda's brow lifted in surprise, and then he scowled in thought. "You're right. I guess that parasitic arm of yours has abilities we didn't realize," he admitted.
There was a knock on the door, and Kanda immediately sprinted across the room and repositioned himself against the wall, at the hinged side of the door. Allen went to the door and asked through it, "Who's there?"
"Kevin, with your bath. The tub at least. Daniel will be up with the buckets of water and the soap," the man qualified.
Allen tossed Kanda his coat, which he belatedly saw was lying in a heap beside the washstand and stank as badly as he did, and then opened the door, when Kanda was covered, though the coat wasn't fastened, and Mugen was still unsheathed, but concealed behind his back.
"Thank you," Allen said sincerely, as the man set the brass tub down on the floor. Allen sighed. It was roughly the size and shape of half a rain barrel, sliced end to end, though made of metal, not wood, nothing like the full sized tubs at Headquarters. Still, it was far better than nothing.
The burly man pointed indolently at Kanda. "This one give you any trouble? Marlene asked me to make certain you was alright. She thought twice about sending you up here alone."
"No, everything's fine. We're actually friends. I didn't realize he was in town," Allen explained.
"Friends? I didn't know Exorcists had friends," the man said skeptically, surprising Allen. He, at least, had recognized Kanda's coat for what it was. The man was eyeing him keenly now, his eyes widening in shock as he saw the softly glowing green cross on the back of his left hand and the red skin of his arm through the torn shirtsleeve. Allen winced as Kevin crossed himself and backed hurriedly from the room, yanking the door closed behind him.
"Idiot," Kanda muttered, the word apparently directed at Kevin, not him. "So what happened to you?" Kanda asked.
"My clothes are in my pack. My ship got caught in a really bad, unexpected storm. A number of the crew were seasick, even though they were all seasoned sailors, or injured, and I had to fill in where I could, so I changed into more practical clothes. I was all but invisible on deck in my coat, even with the silver on it, and my white hair. I had to hold the broken mast together, the last night of the storm. Our ship got blown way off course, and we had no idea where we actually were, because of the cloud cover. We ended up following the current here. We saw a few Chinese Dragon Ships in the harbor when we arrived. Were you blown off course too, or did you complete your last mission early, and were you assigned here?
"Storm," Kanda said succinctly, apparently feeling the single word, when combined with the way he looked and smelled, should be sufficient explanation.
"I'm glad you made it safely to port. Is your Finder staying somewhere else?" Allen asked, hoping the man or men had survived Kanda's mission.
"Shanghai," Kanda replied.
"Oh. Mine's still in Madrid. And Marlene told me there aren't landlines we can hook our wireless golems to, so I guess we can't call in to Headquarters."
There was an eager sounding knock at the door. "I've got your water," a young voice called out, Daniel, apparently.
Allen opened the door to a bright-eyed boy, who looked about ten years old, with a yoke and two steaming buckets at his feet. Allen immediately bent and retrieved one of the heavy looking buckets.
"Are you really a demon? The Exorcist's slave, like Kevin said? Do you have to follow his orders, or he'll send you back to hell?" the boy asked in an eager rush.
"Demons eat annoying little boys," Kanda muttered just loudly enough for them to hear.
"Kanda!" Allen chastised, merely by speaking his name. "I'm not a demon. I'm an Exorcist too," Allen admitted to the boy, as he poured the bucket of water into the tub.
"Then where's your coat?" Daniel challenged, mistrust replacing the excitement in his eyes, as he poured in the second bucket.
"In my pack. Speaking of which, would someone be able to launder my friend's clothes, including his coat?" Allen asked hopefully.
"I'll wash them myself," Kanda protested.
"You need a bath, sleep and food. I'll pay to have them laundered," Allen countered.
Kanda glared at him.
"I guess you really are his friend, since he's not punishing you for arguing with him," Daniel said, sounding disappointed, as he reattached the buckets to the yoke.
"Would you like me to punish you, Allen?" Kanda unexpectedly propositioned evilly, shocking Allen, the tone of his voice sending a shiver of delight down Allen's spine, followed immediately by a dark blush.
"Just be careful you don't break the bed. With an arm like that, there's no telling what he's got in his pants," the boy said with a mischievous grin, as he ran from the room, the buckets swaying wildly. "I'll be back with more water, so don't start nuthin' yet," he called out over his shoulder, as he headed down the corridor.
Allen felt his blush darken. He only hoped Timcanpy still wasn't recording. He could imagine how Komui and the rest would have reacted to all of that, especially since there was only the single bed. What had gotten into Kanda?
A self-satisfied smirk twisted Kanda's lips, and Allen felt relieved and oddly disappointed. This was the Kanda he was used to, his teasing almost bordering on cruel. This happened every time Kanda unintentionally betrayed anything remotely akin to compassion or friendship. It was a defense mechanism, he knew it was, both Lavi and Lenalee had told him about it. Allen knew Kanda did that with everyone, not just him, but it still hurt. It was too much like the way General Cross had treated him, though the General had never once been kind to him. He should be thankful Kanda sometimes was, even if those instances were few and far between.
Allen blinked rapidly, fighting the all too familiar feeling of stinging tears.
Kanda was actually looking angry now. Allen had wanted to unpack and bathe before eating, but he couldn't be trapped in a room with a naked, angry Kanda. He'd been ravenous before, but now, as he swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat, the thought of food wasn't remotely appealing. Still, it was better than this.
He reached into his pack and pulled out his spare sailor shirt, and turned his back toward Kanda, as he stripped off the shirt he'd destroyed, thanks to Kanda's attack. He'd worked himself up to 500 thumbstand pushups every morning now, trying to build his back and arm and chest muscles, so Kanda wouldn't be able to call him Bean Sprout anymore, but his abdominal muscles were still depressingly abysmal, nothing like Kanda's.
He hastily donned the relatively clean shirt, which was stiff and smelled of the saltwater it had last been washed in. They hadn't wanted to waste any of their precious freshwater aboard the ship, not knowing when they might find land again. "I'm going to eat," Allen said, as coldly as Kanda would have, abruptly heading for the door.
He thought he heard Kanda mutter something as he closed the door behind him, but he was glad he couldn't hear whatever it was. He hoped he got his appetite back, once he smelled the food. He was likely to faint if he didn't eat something soon, and the last thing he wanted was Kanda ridiculing him yet again about how weak he was.
He desperately needed to see a friendly face, and almost wished Lavi or Lenalee was here with him instead, hating that he still was glad it was Kanda. Both of them were so much nicer. Why couldn't he want one of them to be more than a friend?
0 0 0
Kanda stared at the closed door, his self-loathing burning brighter, at the sight of the dejected slump of Allen's shoulders as he had walked stiffly from their shared room. Lavi and Lenalee would both be furious with him for upsetting Allen, if they were here. They wouldn't think the single muttered word "Sorry" would have been sufficient apology, anymore than he did. He wasn't sure Allen had even heard it.
Why had he said what he'd been thinking aloud this time? He was always careful to keep his thoughts to himself, especially when it came to Allen. The last thing he needed was for the kid to realize the extent of his feelings, when even he wasn't sure exactly how deeply those feelings ran.
Not that it mattered. He didn't want to be friends with anyone, let alone feel anything more. The lotus could only keep him alive for so long, especially at the rate he'd been wasting its petals. He was relieved no one had realized what he meant, the few times he'd slipped up and bitterly said, "I'm already dead." He'd truly been living on borrowed time for years.
He'd done everything he could to discourage Allen's affection, but like with Lavi and Lenalee, the more he tried to push him away, the tighter he clung. The kid was like a limpet, and he was his rock. What would Allen do, the day his rock crumbled away to dust?
Allen had never known his parents, and had tragically lost Mana, the man who had been a foster father to him. Kanda knew his mentor General Cross had been cold and brutal to the kid because he'd been trying to make him strong enough to stand on his own, to finally tell Cross off and leave him, but the effort had backfired: he'd only made Allen that much weaker, undermining what little self-confidence the kid had, further bruising his already broken heart. Kanda had wanted to help Allen and protect him too, just like Cross, and yet so far he'd done just as poor a job of it.
Kanda almost welcomed the next knock, although if that waterboy brat said anything inappropriate, he'd be hard pressed not to take his frustration and self-directed anger out on the kid.
Fortunately the boy didn't so much as smirk, as he emptied the final two buckets into the tub, and handed him a cake of soap. Maybe he intimidated the kid, the way he scowled at him, without Allen there as a buffer. Good. It was the little brat's fault he'd opened his damned mouth and said something that suggestive to Allen, even if his tone had made it sound like he'd only been teasing him.
He was puzzled when the boy stood there, his hand out at his side, palm up. "Why aren't you leaving?"
"It's customary when a customer is pleased with your service that he gives you a tip to thank you for your hard work. Them buckets is heavy," the boy explained, his tone implying Kanda was a moron.
"Then don't be such a smart-mouthed little brat with your next customer. Now get out before I throw you out," Kanda demanded, his already thin patience long since worn through.
"Next time I'll pee in those buckets," the boy threatened under his breath, as he headed for the door.
Kanda had him by the throat and slammed up against the wall before he realized he'd even moved. He was nearly as shocked by his actions as the boy, appalled at the loss of his vaunted control, at thinking of this little brat urinating in Allen's bathwater, not terrified, as the boy was. Even enraged, he didn't murder children. But the boy didn't know that. "If you do anything to hurt Allen, I'll feed you to the next demon I find," Kanda threatened, glaring into the kid's wide eyes.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I wouldn't, I promise!" the boy groveled, instead of kicking and fighting the way he would have, if caught like that. Hopefully he'd frightened the kid enough that he wouldn't try to retaliate, or get that big hulking brute Kevin to do it for him. Cowards like this one always attacked when your back was turned and your defenses were down. It didn't bode well for his meals, while he was here, but it was too late to worry about that now. He needed a bath and some sleep. He desperately needed to get his head back on straight. There was no telling how dangerous this city might be.
He released the boy, who ran out the door as if his feet were on fire, forgetting the yoke and buckets. Kanda sighed in disgust, picked them up, put them in the hallway, closed and locked the door, and headed for the tub, careful to lay Mugen in easy reach, in case Kevin or other trouble came to call.