Back in his cabin, Kanda dropped Allen on his bed.
The boy hissed in pain and tried to lift himself up, snarling for the umpteenth time, "You're a pirate." But his voice was raspy and he looked more like a soaked cat, which rather undermined his words.
Kanda shrugged, saying, "And I saved you, beansprout."
"I'm not a beansprout!" Allen protested.
"You're my hostage; I call you whatever I want."
And, thank the Gods, the boy finally shut his mouth and stilled, staring at Kanda warily.
Kanda took out a bottle of alcohol, cloth and bandages from the side of his bed and in a rare fit of kindness, began to dress the Allen's wounds. To his credit, the boy didn't make a single noise, nor did he move a muscle.
Was this how he dealt with the torture too?
He started to wrap the bandages around Allen's torso gently, and the boy half-lifted himself up to make it easier. Finally he tied up the ends and the job was done. He stood back and studied the boy, receiving the same look in turn.
The seconds dragged on.
Then Allen said evenly, "Thanks. You're a pirate, but I suppose you're not a bad one."
Again he shrugged, this time because he was unused to praise.
"Rest for now. I'll get someone to bring you food and water later."
And Kanda stalked out of his cabin, feeling Allen's measuring eyes on him all the while. He pretended not to hear the boy's whisper.
"Thank you, so much."
Because the boy sounded haunted, chillingly so.
Kanda wondered what exactly he had saved (or kidnapped) the boy from.
Lavi knocked on the door, a tray of food and water on his hands. When there was no reply, he entered anyway, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Kanda's hostage slept snugly on the bed, and even though he'd seen him once already, he still found himself awed by that person's beauty.
And then he found himself questioning his sanity.
The hostage was sleeping soundly on Kanda's bed, with his bandages wrapped by Kanda, and with food brought to him on the order of none other than Kanda.
The Kanda himself, who was the most distinctly uncaring individual he had ever met. And Lavi smirked, because now he had something else to tease Kanda with.
Then the hostage stirred and opened his eyes blearily.
"Good morning – or afternoon, beansprout!" Lavi greeted in a friendly manner.
The boy jerked up in reflex, then hissed as the movement pulled at his wounds.
"Whoa, easy there, mate! I'm just here to deliver your food!" Lavi announced. "The name's Lavi. I'm quartermaster of the Black Order. The guy who saved you, he's Kanda."
The boy blinked in surprise.
Then he gave a polite smile and introduced, "I'm Allen, Allen Walker. Nice to meet you." And then Allen's gaze swiveled to the food. Lavi smiled bemusedly and held it out to him.
And Lavi blinked.
The tray had been piled full of food, from stew and soup to salad and fruits, courtesy of Jerry. It had been really heavy, not that Lavi was complaining. And, uh, the boy – or monster rather, just wolfed it down in five seconds flat.
Five seconds.
Lavi stared.
And Allen's stomach rumbled.
"You're, uh, still hungry?" Lavi asked nervously. Allen nodded shamefacedly.
Lavi laughed, and reassured, "'S fine, mate. We've got people here who've bigger appetites." He led Allen out to the ship's kitchen, where their overenthusiastic chef hummed and worked.
And in five minutes, he felt like he was dying.
Because, that boy who was so much smaller than him, had eaten about thrice his weight. And the stacked bowls loomed over Lavi threateningly, just like how Kanda would when he found out how much he had let Allen eat. And more bowls were still being added to the grotesque pile before him.
Jerry was exceedingly pleased with Allen's black hole of a stomach. He whipped up dish after dish, cuisine after cuisine, and Lavi was starting to feel claustrophobic in this small room, filled from floor to ceiling with Allen's dishes.
Being the quartermaster, he was, to a certain extent, in charge of their supplies. That included food, which had been estimated to last about three months, and was now about to run out in three hours. If Allen could still keep eating, that was.
Lavi was scared.
And now the crew was gathering around Allen, cheering Allen on and taking bets on how much more he could eat like nobody's business. Those louts, didn't they care about their precious food? At this rate, the entire crew was going to survive on leather soon.
Boot leather, to be exact.
Now where was Kanda when he needed him?
As if on cue, the Saviour himself arrived in the form of Kanda. He glared murderously at everyone and in that instant, smiles were wiped off of faces as cleanly as detergent would, hands holding coins dropped awkwardly, and a deathly silence fell. Everyone stared back at Kanda and gulped extremely nervously.
Except for Allen, who continued to shovel food into his mouth.
Lavi felt that he had a duty to report to Kanda, and explained, "It wasn't my fault!"
Immediately Kanda's freezing glare focused on him. Lavi self-evaluated himself and thought that he'd have wet himself if he'd still been five.
"No, really, it wasn't me! Beansprout there just keeps eating and eating, and I couldn't stop him!" Not that I tried, but Lavi wasn't about to say that out loud.
Allen finally put down his bowl – hopefully his last – of soba and corrected, "The name's Allen!"
Lavi realized what Allen had been eating. He decided to start planning his will.
Swallowing, he asked, "Chef? Jerry? You, uh, still have more soba left over, right?"
Kanda stared at the Chef.
"Allen there just finished the last one, I guess?" Was the Chef's reply.
And Allen's execution letter was signed.
In a split second, Kanda drew his sword. Everyone there – Lavi included – expected Allen to meet a very bloody, very swift death. As such they were all shocked when Allen parried the blow with a sword of his own and neatly dodged the second swipe as well.
Lavi wondered where Allen had gotten that sword from. He looked down at his empty sheath.
Oh, he thought stupidly.
Allen and Kanda brought the fighting out of the room and into the deck. The latter, of course, fought well, each blow fast and furious. None drew blood.
It wasn't surprising to see Kanda fight the way he did – each slash purposeful, efficient. He fought nothing like the pompous sword masters, all flowery moves, and who couldn't defeat a bug even with a ten foot pole.
But it certainly was surprising to see that Allen fought the same way. And that he was on equal footing as Kanda, who wiped the floor with nearly everyone else.
He ducked, dodged, defended, and he attacked.
He grinned, and Lavi understood that grin. It wasn't that he was underestimating Kanda – hell no, even a fool wouldn't do that – but more that he was enjoying himself in the swordfight.
The both of them were a blur of movement. Neither stayed in the same spot for more than a moment, their bodies nimble and agile as they spun and turned. It was like a dance, synchronized and lethally beautiful, and each misstep would cost them dearly.
But Lavi doubted that neither would hurt the other.
Dare he say, but Kanda was smirking, as though he were having fun.
And finally, the deciding blow came. Allen blocked it, naturally, but his blade itself broke into two sad pieces. Eyes followed the disconnected shard as it looped through the air, and finally buried itself next to Lavi's head.
Lavi felt his heart shatter.
It was not because of his near-death experience, but rather because his sword was broken.
Broken, he thought, with an air of dismal finality.
But Lavi was practical, and he promptly figured he could get another one anyway, and his attention went back to the match.
Allen, who had a sword to his neck, had both his hands up in surrender. Or so Kanda might've thought, except the moment he drew back his sword, Allen stepped in and kneed him in the stomach.
He choked furiously and spluttered, "You surrendered!"
And Allen smugly replied, "Ah, but I didn't say so."
His grin infuriated Kanda, who snarled, "You cheater!" and toppled him in a judo's throw.
He landed hard on his back and winced, once again finding a sword at his jugular. Kanda stared at him expectantly.
He sulked, and acceded, "I give. For now, anyway."
"Try again in a couple decades, beansprout." Kanda mocked. Allen paused, thinking up a retort.
"The name's Allen, Bakanda." Allen teased, and everyone stilled. Nobody, absolutely nobody who still wanted to live, taunted Kanda. Even Lavi hadn't dared to give him a nickname. The atmosphere was tense as Kanda glared and Allen smirked and everyone else stared in silent fear.
And then Lavi gasped and chortled and burst out in laughter and praised, "I'd kiss you for that, Allen!"
Kanda scowled.
Then he lifted Allen up in a fireman's carry and said, "Ignore that idiot. We're going back to the cabin."
Had the world ended? Was the ship sinking? Oh no, it must be the soba deficiency! Because, because they didn't just see Kanda being nice. The word itself was anathema to him!
Allen struggled and protested, "I can walk, Bakanda!"
Kanda strode on. "Your wounds are opening, beansprout."
Oh, so that was it. Now that they looked closely, patches of red were beginning to form on Allen's newly wrapped bandages. Then the two left.
For some reason, Jerry, who had only ever seen Kanda being civil at best, felt as though he had just intruded in a very intimate scene.
He blushed.
Kanda frowned as he dabbed harshly at Allen's wounds again.
Allen gritted his teeth and demanded, "Be more gentle, you ass!"
Childishly, Kanda lathered the cloth in alcohol, and pressed it against Allen's back. Allen took in a harsh breath and groaned, and Kanda immediately stopped. Without a word, he went on to the bandages and Allen could finally breathe more easily.
In an attempt at making conversation (and at making amends for the food), Allen offered huffily, "You know, about all that food I took…I'll pay you back."
"With what, your body?" Kanda snorted and continued to wrap the bandages around Allen.
"No!" Allen blushed and bristled to cover it up. "There's an island about fourteen miles directly west of here. We can restock there – there's someone who owes me one living on it."
Kanda asked suspiciously, "And how did you know where it was?"
Allen shifted. "From the position of the stars." It sounded suspiciously like a lie, and Kanda did not buy it.
"Yeah? It's daytime now, and I doubt the Navy let you stargaze."
"In actual fact, they did. I was tied to the main-mast for a couple of days without food and water." Allen said flatly.
Kanda knew for a fact that daytime at sea was burning hot, and nighttime was freezing cold. He also knew that he probably shouldn't have said what he did.
"I'm sorry." He couldn't remember the last time he'd apologised, actually. But he didn't like to be the one to remind Allen of his torture, and perhaps he didn't want to get onto Allen's bad side, but he'd never admit that.
"Wait. Wait. Did you just apologise? I think my ears just played a trick on me. Can you say it again?" Allen asked in mock-surprise.
Kanda growled, "Don't push it, beansprout."
"It's Allen, Bakanda."
Hey, guys! I'm glad I managed to update within a week and all, 'specially since school's starting and all that sleepy school atmosphere is creeping back on me. Bleargh.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thanks for reading!