So I figured none of you wanted such a lame, short chapter as chapter one, so I typed this up for all of you as well. Warnings for the ratings in the previous chapter.
Chapter 2
Red's POV
Warm blood splashed onto my face, cooling almost instantly as it flew through the air. I ignored the sensation in favor of strangling my target. No matter how hard he tried to escape, I could not allow him to break free. I knew nothing about him other than his name, position, and the way he was going to die. It was nothing personal, I held no grudge towards this stranger. Then again, it never is.
He made gurgled sounds, choking on his blood as much as he was suffocating from a lack of air. At long last his struggles began to weaken, then stop. I waited another minute longer before finally letting go of my prey. I checked his pulse and upon finding none, removed myself from his person in order to retrieve my weapon. The knife had fallen to the floor in the struggle for his life, just out of reach for either of us to use. He had tried, certainly, but I kicked it away during our violent tangle. I picked up the blade, turning around to face the dead man.
"Really, I had no idea you would be so competent," I praised. "You managed to disarm me, forced me to fight like a barbarian."
He died fighting, and I admired that. Too many people cowered before me right before I killed them. He didn't. He fought with everything he had because he knew—one of was going to die. I bowed my head to his body.
"Forgive me for taking your life," I whispered. I did not feel a shred of regret for killing this man, at least not in the way that I should. But it was a very similar feeling. I had taken yet another life, and more scarlet stained my hands. That scarlet never washes off. I accepted long ago that I had no choice in killing people, so I never regretted it. However, I do regret destroying something so precious and fiery in this world. I regret that they merely became a crimson smear upon my name. It made my name that much more cruel. Red. Was it even a name? It didn't matter.
The sound of footsteps alerted me to the nearing presence of my temporary (but rather consistent) partner.
"Tch, you made a fucking bloody mess again Moyashi," Kanda growled. Some may have mistaken it for disgust or disdain, but he had seen worse messes than this one. Hell, he had made worse crime scenes than this. "Are you ready to go, or are you too busy pussyfooting with your own damn conscience?"
As hostile as Kanda's words were, they held truth in them; I often battled my conscience, some days worse than others. Today was a good day though.
"Did you forget, BaKanda, that I have no conscience?" I asked. It was a false bravado. Something he would easily see through. I may have a conscience, but I am emotionally deadened. It doesn't affect me the way it used to. I sheathed Crown Clown, my dagger, before stepping over the dead man's body.
"Fucking liar," Kanda muttered bitterly. "You're lucky as hell you're so good at putting on those damn faces of yours on. Otherwise I would call you on your bullshit!"
He already had called me on lying, so I didn't know what else he could call me on. I brushed off the comment and strode in the direction of the door.
"Let's go, moron, our masters are waiting for us," I announced in a falsely cheerful voice. I could sense his irritation spike.
"Since when did you become so obedient?" Kanda spat the word like it was poisoned. To us, it really was. My own lip twitched in a sneer even as I tried to ignore his provocation as well. For us, arguing was as easy as breathing. He brought out the rebellious child I used to be. Kept alive the parts of me that managed to survive becoming an Exorcist. Lately those tiny pieces have been dying too, and it scared him. I knew it scared him deeply. We both feared the day I would lose what little fire and bite I still retained; but even now I could feel that fear slipping away into numbness. Soon I will be a true puppet, a tool for the Cardinals of the Vatican to use. It is inevitable—
"So obedient," Kanda repeated. "I bet my Cardinal will love seeing you bent over his desk, fucking you raw with—"
-then this idiot comes up with this awful, disgusting images, things I will never give into. I threw a kick back at him, careful to keep my voice low as he merely dodged it.
"Shut. Up." I forced the words through my teeth. And that was all we needed to say. Exorcists—personal assassins to the Cardinals—never trust one another, therefore never converse for long periods of time. Even we follow this rule.
Cardinals run the Vatican's laws and order, and they existed in a world full of power. They made half hearted alliances with one another, only to turn when their partner's back is bared to them. Of all of these monsters, Leverrier reigns supreme. No one attacks him, even if he lashed out at them first. He controls the flow of the entire system with the most precious tool of all: Exorcists. He takes the most promising orphans he can gather, trains them, then allows the other Cardinals to buy us. Kanda and I are lucky; his Master (Leverrier) often looks after mine (Link). It is unlikely that we will ever have to fight each other to the death. Still, I keep a barrier between us. Even if we work together on almost every mission, I cannot allow myself to befriend him. There is no need to let a repeat of Alma blossom. Frankly, no one has enough moxy to pull that sort of stunt again. But if someone did...I needed to be able to gut Kanda right where he stands. And with Leverrier's whims, he may ask me to do that anyways. Kanda is a hard, near disrespectful character. One day I may be given that order and because Innocence binds me to that bastard, I will have no choice except to obey him.
That is another reason I hate Leverrier. He trained every Exorcist and the only thing preventing us from turning on our Masters is a special substance he calls Innocence. It is a vile substance, taking the form of ink. He uses ancient magic to force us into submission and obey our masters without resistance. In most Exorcists, it is only a small tattoo. But those who rebelled against him were given larger doses of Innocence. Kanda's entire left side of his chest is covered in the brand, his curse. Mine covers my entire left arm, from finger tip to shoulder. That isn't even the worst part. He promised the Cardinals we take orders only from them; the truth is, he is of a higher rank. He is the one who activated the magic. He is our true master. And we all hate him for it. Kanda and I suffer the most. Kanda more than I do, since he serves LEverrier directly. I can only curse the stars that Kanda's wretched personality turns Leverrier's perverse tendencies away, directing that man towards me. For now, though, I m safe. I am young, skinny, and in all honesty, hideous to look upon.
"Tch. Let's just leave this fucking place," Kanda retorted at last, the best come back he could come up with. I followed him, listening to the echoes of the sound of his footsteps on the stone floors. Exorcists all have colorful, but insignificant pasts. We all started out as orphans who had fallen through the cracks. I was no exception, but my past was just a little more...momentous. Out of all of my 'comrades' I was the only one who had his name stripped, erased from every nook and cranny of the Vatican. And out of the Exorcists, I was the only one to have been given the gift of a name, instead of having it bequeathed upon me at birth. Not many can recall the day they 'began', but I can. It was all thanks to one man...
"What is your name?" asked the stranger who was handing me pieces of warm, fresh bread. He was unlike anyone else I had met in this district of mine. They would devour the bread before me instead of sharing it. Obviously this man was not used to living in this Hell. He must have been recently exiled. But...he didn't seem like an exile. If I looked at him properly, he almost seemed to glow.
"Don't got one," I grumbled at him, shoveling the food into my mouth. This was my first time eating it, and it tasted unlike anything I had ever eaten. And that was saying a lot since I ate whatever I could scavenge.
"Were you ever given a name?" I hated his tone of voice. It sounded like he was pitying me. I gave him a glare. He should be admiring me for being a survivor at my age.
"Maybe. My ma prob'ly ga'me one." She had died a long time ago, so if she called me by a name, I hadn't heard it since then. She was a soft woman. She probably did have a name for me. I think I forgot it. It is quite easy to do when you're alone, you against the world.
"Is that so?" the man said softly. "Then would you like to come with me? I can give you a home, food, family..."
"And a name too?" I could not help but ask. He looked at me in surprise before laughing.
"I can do that, most certainly. I promise if you come with me now, I will have thought of one for you before we arrive at my home," he promised. Then he stood up, offering his hand to me. "Will you come with me?"
I took his hand. I couldn't say no. My heart spoke to me for the first time that day. It told me that as long as I stood by this man, nothing bad would ever happen to me.
"Master Noah, you cannot take a nameless thing into the Sky Above! It is simply not done!" the priest argued. I clung tightly to the man who I now viewed as my protector, a man named Mana Walker. He was a Noah, a living god who wanted to take me with him into the caves sacred to his kind. Even I, a child raised in the darkness of the lowest district, understood the most important law of the people living in the Vatican.
"He has no family, no name; he cannot go," the priest, an Akuma, persisted. But Mana was more obstinate.
"Then let him have a family and a name!" he roared. Mana turned around to face the gathering crowd of worshippers and Akuma alike. His anger was tangible and frightened even me to the core. He lifted me up, onto his hip, and glared at them defiantly.
"I claim this boy as my son," he declared in a loud voice that echoed throughout the temple. "His name is Allen Walker, and from this day on he will live in the Sky Above with me."
Mana took me in ten years ago, raising me as if I really were his own son. I lived in the Sky Above-Noahs' Ark- for six years. The other Noahs hated me at first, but I didn't care at the time. It was not a new experience to be hated, and they eventually warmed up to me. My time with my father was like heaven. I had a name, a family, and love. I was happy for the first time in my memorable existence.
Then Mana vanished, relinquishing his guardianship of me, his protection. And as the Akuma had warned me one day long before Mana left...
"There will be repercussions for you, boy."
The punishment I received was given to me the moment I stepped out of that sacred place, the holy adobe of the Noahs. They stripped me of my name and erased my existence from every document and every record existing in the Vatican. They left me vulnerable, ripe, susceptible for the Cardinals to take and twist. You may wonder what law I broke to receive such an extreme punishment. It is the first law of my people that I broke, the most important law that ensure the success of our society. There is only 'white' and 'black'. The ones who carry black- convicts, exiles, paupers, assassins, foreigners, and the lowest three districts of our tiered city- must never stray from their caste. Neither should the white- Cardinals, Akuma, politicians, Noahs- allow themselves to mingle with those beneath them. Black would taint white, and chaos would ensue, for who could have clear judgment when their hearts have been swayed by stained souls? Depending on the status of both the black and the white, a punishment is fitted. Erasure, exile, death, and exile into the Abyss. Those are the punishments given to someone who breaks the first law.
"Kanda, why do they do this to us?" I asked the boy, in agony after being imbued with Innocence for the first time. I was confused, not understanding what was happening, or what they had done to me.. All I knew was that I was in pain. I was twelve.
"Moron. This is the corrupt law of that bastard," he growled at me. Lavi, a witness to the history chuckled humorlessly.
"Yes," he agreed. "Welcome to Leverrier's Black Order."
Corrupt Law. Black Order. It's one and the same.
