Chapter Two
~oOo~
That week I visited Allen Walker everyday. We played together in the snow and strolled through the busy city, looking at shops and sipping hot chocolate. Mana was still completely in the dark about my associations with the little guy, so I was the happiest I'd been in this life. Allen was such a blissful child too. It was amusing considering he asked questions about everything!
"Hey, Kira, why does it only snow in the winter? How do people know when winter is coming? Whoa! How do trains work Kira? Can we go on one?" They were all good questions to which I would laugh, and then answer.
On a particularly warm Friday afternoon, only two days before Christmas, we were sitting underneath a frost-coated maple tree on the edge of the city. I was doodling random pictures in a sketchbook I owned, and Allen was attempting to climb up to the top of the tree, but the branches were brittle, and Allen was a five-year-old child without much balance and precision.
A branch snapped, Allen slipped, and I caught him. It wouldn't have been a big deal had I not flipped out of my kneeling position, jumped about twelve feet up and, caught him mid-fall. I fell slowly back towards the ground, not at all as fast as gravity would have had it. I set Allen on his feet, on the hard frozen ground.
"Careful, buddy. I told you that was a bad idea." I said, a thick layer of uneasiness settling in my stomach as I watched him gaze at me, his hazel eyes wide and unbelieving.
"How did you do that Kira?" He demanded, gloved hands on his hips.
I blinked down at him. "I was an acrobat in a circus at one time." Lie.
Allen's eyes lit up like the Christmas tree in town square. "Really! You're like Mana! I love the circus! Could you show me a trick? Please?" He begged, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.
Aw, man. This is why lying is a sin! But did I falter and stammer? No. Did I blush and make up some awful excuse? Of course not! Did I tell the truth? I guess I'm just not that moral.
"Of course Allen." I couldn't look him in the eye after my little gymnastics performance. I mean I can lie to anyone, except this little boy. Why? Because he was so sweet, and trusting, and good…and he didn't even know that I was just using him to get close to the 14th. Poor little Allen's life was so unfair.
It was about 5:00 now, and the sun was setting. I walked Allen to his hotel and wandered away. It wasn't until I got to the corner of the street that I felt his presence.
I whipped around and ran as fast as possible back to the hotel, and lo and behold, standing in front of it was a man; a large rotund figure with a tall thin top hat. Flowers and big cut out snowflakes were collected on the brim of the hat, when I saw the man my insides went cold, my vision and hearing sharpened and electricity sparked at the tip of my fingers. He looked over his shoulder at me, his gold eyes filled with mock tears.
"Good evening, Daughter mine." He said in his repulsive happy tone. He wiped at a tear that rolled down his cheek. "You've gotten so small."
I glared daggers at the man, the Millennium Earl, and growled, "Why are you here?"
He looked at me in slight annoyance. "You know, Azrael, in most cultures, when someone bids you good evening, you return the gesture by replying 'Good evening.' Honestly, where have your manners gone?"
A sick nauseous feeling crept into my stomach, my chest tightened, and my head throbbed in time with my rapid pulse. Why was he here?
To torment me? To create akuma?
As far as I knew, no one in this town had died in about a month, so there was no point to that. He was probably just here to annoy me, or threaten me, or taunt me...the list was endless. I didn't think he was here to cause any harm to Allen; he was only at the hotel because it's the area of the city where my scent is the strongest, seeing as how that is where I spend all of my time nowadays.
Yet being around my father really brought out the very worst in me. All of my hate and anger and rage, everything I kept carefully bottled away for fear of it consuming me, bubbled out. My true form was beginning to leak up.
My hair was growing longer, my skin was glowing pale, my eyes turning a sharp blood thirsty red. I felt my teeth sharpen, piercing my bottom lip and drawing blood. My hair swirled around me like it was alive, twisting and curling in the soft breeze. Electricity snapped out of my fingertips, a jagged bolt of lightning about 3 feet long arched towards the ground, melting the snow there, and disappearing. Leaving only the hissing sound of boiling snow and the slightest scent of ozone.
All of the sudden I could see everything, hear everything, taste everything around me. Each snowflake falling to the ground looked like a razor, sounded like a footstep, and tasted like stagnant water. Every laugh of a child in the city, sounded like a mockery of happiness. Just like my father.
He was now watching my transformation from odd child to glowing demon with smug interest, seeming delighted to have gotten such a response from me. The truly sad part was, he hadn't even said anything offensive yet. It was just his presence that ignited my inner monster.
Oh, how I loathe him.
I stood before the Earl, half transformed into my demonic form, and glared, truly looking like the Angel of Death herself.
"Good evening, Father." I spat, knowing that he wouldn't give me any information without it. He chuckled through his teeth. Like always.
I never understood why he used this repulsive, ugly form, when in human form he was almost handsome. The man really made me sick. I tossed my, now hip length, hair over my shoulder, glaring at him in absolute hatred. A slightly sad look tinged his eyes.
"You know, Azrael, if you were to apologize to the Noah and I, we would take you back. We would accept you." He said this slowly, his gold eyes searching my ruby ones.
I stood there in shock for a moment, before exploding into laughter. Sharp peals of cold, sarcastic laughs rang through the electric air. He looked coolly at me now, his unrealistically large teeth grinding together.
"Laughing at me is not the correct move, Azrael." He growled.
My laughter cut off abruptly. "And joining you is?" I was being quite sarcastic, but like I said, he brought out the worst in me. He glared at me now, his eyes cutting into mine.
"Yes, it is. You were not created to befriend humanity. You were not created to mingle with average beings. You were not created to aid exorcists." His voice had started to crescendo by the middle of the sentence, but then it dropped to a deadly soft note. I prefer shouting.
My father was now rifling around in his jacket, looking for something, "And here, take this pathetic little creature would you? It's been driving me insane. Your lucky I didn't destroy it. He whipped a tiny gold ball at me.
On instinct, I lifted my hand and the small round object hit the palm of my hand, perfect timing. I looked curiously down at it, some memories in my head stirring to life. A small golden winged creature with a goofy smile and fierce loyalty.
"Timcanpy?" I whispered in disbelief, the small sphere just sat in the palm of my hand. No wings. No grin. I glared up at my father when he laughed.
"I deactivated the little bugger. An immensely annoying little thing isn't it? I regret letting you create it that millennium ago..."
I glowered fiercely at him. How dare he deactivate Timcanpy? Gently, I pulled the dormant little golem close to my chest; I cupped him in both hands.
"Leave, Father." I said in a quiet, melancholy voice. I was sad that he was who he was, that I was stuck in this repetitive life cycle, that the 14th had no idea who I was, and I was tired of playing the same game over and over again with my Father.
I was done.
I left the Earl and Noah not just for the Musician, but for me too. The Earl looked up at me, amber eyes shining. "I will find a way to pull you back to our side, Daughter. You will fulfill your destiny as the downfall of all exorcists and Innocence."
With that last threat, he threw open Lero, his odd little umbrella, and was lifted into the snow-filled air.
It took about a minute for my body to notice his absence. My hair shortened, and stopped writhing in the non-existent wind, my pale skin stopped glowing, and my eyes faded to a soft pinkish color again.
The anger and hatred still bubbled in my chest and stomach, my head was still throbbing. Defeated, I looked down at my lifeless friend. I pulled my cupped hands to my lips and whispered, "Activate."
The golden ball began to vibrate in my hands; the cold metal shell heated up and glowed. Two golden wings exploded outwards, and a big toothy grin flashed across the face of the golem.
"Timcanpy!" I smiled at my old companion. And I do mean old.
He was at least nine hundred years old I created him when I was about three hundred, out of loneliness, and he had been my partner in crime, and havoc, ever since.
The golem sprang skyward, shooting up like a comet. Then he fell back down, stopping and nuzzling into my shoulder. I felt a pinch in the back of my eyes, tears rolled down my cheeks. Timcampy, I had completely forgotten about him in all the angst of losing my love. And now I felt awful. How on Earth could I forget the one lone creature that was always there?
I am truly a despicable person.
I cuddled Tim against my cheek, kissed the top of his head and rubbed his long golden wings. I could not believe Tim was back! While the 14th may be gone, his music survived in Tim as a sort of storage. A few centuries ago, the Musician and I were debating where to hold all of his music. Where could you keep a composition of this immense power? Well, then Timcampy drifted by, unaware that I was about to convert him from my most trusted friend to my most reliable filing cabinet.
The poor little thing.
I placed Tim on my shoulder and walked up to the building in front of us.
I stared up at the hotel Allen and Mana were staying in; I could hear Allen's high voice laughing along with Mana. He was asking about Christmas; what they were doing, who they would see, whether or not they were going out for dinner...
I'm ashamed to admit that I eavesdropped on their entire conversation, crouched on the ledge above the window to their room, hearing Allen's sweet little voice eased the hatred and pain away, bit by bit, till I almost couldn't remember what made me so mad in the first place.
Apparently, they would be going to be staying at the hotel for the day, and then heading over to a small Italian restaurant for dinner. I looked at Tim; he nodded at me in understanding. Well we knew what we were going to be doing for Christmas…
I felt the need to get Allen a gift. But what do you give a child as selfless as Allen? Were I to ask him, I was positive he would smile, pat my hand and say something along the lines of, "I don't want anything Kira! Why don't we just go to the park?"
Yeah, something like that.
So I strolled through the town, Tim floating by my side, looking for a the perfect present for little Allen Walker. I found nothing. Absolutely nothing jumped out at me and said, "I promise to make the most important person in your young life smile!"
You can imagine my disappointment.
However, I was done rifling through the cities best-selling toy stores, and was headed to the clothing shops. A hat? Gloves to hide his Innocence?
He was always worrying about his left hand. The rough red skin and black claw-like fingernails. The little cross on the back of his hand was a constant wonder to him.
"What is it Kira? Will it hurt me? Am I going to die?" He asked one day as we were sitting in front of his hotel, he was rubbing his hand gently, like it hurt him.
"Allen, I'm sure you'll be fine. I do not know what it is, but I'm sure it is not life threatening." I lied. I knew exactly what that odd little mark on his hand was.
Innocence; a weapon against my father's minions.
Allen was an exorcist; a soldier for the Black Order. I could smell the Innocence in his veins; I could see the faint glowing green light that radiated out of his arm, invisible to human eyes. This is what I was created for, picking exorcists out of normal mortals. Being able to see the difference in them.
The Disciples of God were not a conspicuous race. They moved differently, like every move they made was calculated and planned, their eyes darted everywhere, trying to pick out akuma from the rest of the human crowd. They were wary of everything and everyone who approached them. They shone with Innocence, every single one of them in my eyes.
If you pulled a crowd of a hundred people into a room, and inserted a few exorcists to blend with them, I would be able to distinguish them in a heartbeat. That and the fact that they wore those ridiculous coats, the Rose Cross displayed proudly on their chests. So irritating….they thought they were so amazing, being able to kill akuma. And yet, not a one has been able to defeat me. Not a single soul, akuma, Noah, exorcist or otherwise has been able to get the upper hand in a battle against me, my father being the only exception.
Then again, I seriously doubt he has a soul…
I pulled my coat closer to myself; it was starting to snow harder, flurries of ice swiveled around me. Tim was being pulled further and further away from me. He had to pump his wings at hummingbird speed to keep from being blown completely away. I snatched him out of the merciless wind and tucked him into my coat. He smiled smugly.
-o-
Christmas rolled by without incident. I was still shaken up about the Earl, but Allen adored his new gift. I'd decided to go with a pair of gloves and a stuffed bear with a big emerald bow around the neck. He was charmed.
"It's so pretty!" The boy gasped, stroking the bright green bow with one red finger, his eyes the size of tea saucers. The only real problem was Mana. He would be suspicious if Allen brought home some random toy and a pair of new white gloves.
"Allen, honey, why don't you leave the bear with me." I suggested. He looked at me in surprise.
"No! I want to take Ren home!" He pouted.
"Ren? Is that the bears name?" I asked, appalled. Who names a stuffed bear after a bird?
"Yeah! I named him Ren." He smiled up at me.
"Do you mean like Wren the bird?"
Allen laughed at me, reaching over and patting my hand. "No, no! I don't mean Wren with a 'W' I mean Ren. R-e-n." He smiled brightly, snuggling the stuffed toy to his chest.
Tim drifted close to Allen's head, inspecting the bear with mild interest. Allen looked up and stared at Timcampy, holding out a finger. Tim landed perched on it and bounced a little, causing Allen to erupt in a fit of giggles.
"Okay. Ren the bear should stay with me so that Mana doesn't get worried about where you got it." I bent down and smoothed the brown hair out of Allen's face. He looked up at me sadly.
"But...I wanted to show him my room." My chest tightened with guilt. He shouldn't have to give up his toy so I could save my own skin. It wasn't fair for him. I sighed loudly, standing up and taking Allen with me. He wrapped his legs around my slim torso.
"Alright Allen, Ren stays with you. If Mana asks, tell him some girl randomly handed him to you."
Allen looked at me funny, "Okay…"
Mana would suspect it was I anyway, so I might as well confirm it. Allen wiggled. "I have to go home now, Kira. Mana and I are going to eat dinner." I set him down and looked at him, his expression keyed up and cheerful.
"What's so special about dinner in town?" I asked. He smiled softly and looked out towards the hotel.
"Well, when Daddy found me, I was playing in the Circus in London. He brought me home, and on Christmas he adopted me. To celebrate, we went out to eat." He smiled hugely now. Tim grinned too, soaking in the joy that radiated from little Allen Walker.
I felt a soft wave of sadness wash over me. Like Allen, I had been abandoned by my "parents" and forced into the world when I was very small. Except, unlike Allen, who found Mana, the person who was supposed to be there for me was not.
I was all alone.
Allen was looking at me now, eyebrows crinkled in worry, I smoothed out my features. Before he could ask, I gently patted Allen's head. "Well have a wonderful dinner Allen. Go on." I prodded him a little.
He balked, turning around and jumping up. He wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling me down to his height. Taken aback, I let him. He hugged my face to his.
"Don't be sad Kira! Don't cry." He patted my hair, trying to console me.
"I'm not crying." I whispered, my voice cracked a little, proving me a liar. He pulled back and kissed my cheek softly.
"Don't be sad. Please Kira?" I hugged him to me.
"I'm not sad Allen. I am happy."
It almost wasn't fair how this child could see straight through me; right into the icy depths of my vacant heart. He could see all of my emotions. And he cared. He cared that I was unhappy, it made him unhappy too. This was what made it so hard to lie to him.
I set him down on his feet again. "Go on! Go see Mana, have a good Christmas with your father." I smiled brightly and pushed him off to the hotel. He looked at me in worry, I waved. He beamed and ran as fast as he could back to where his father awaited him.
That was the last time I ever saw Allen Walker truly happy.
-o-
It was a week after Christmas, and I had been smoothing out a problem with some akuma that were threatening to invade the city. Slaying akuma wasn't difficult when you are the daughter of the Earl and all you have to do is tell them to self destruct, or to turn around and kill each other. That was one of the main problems in my father's eyes. I could detect akuma the same way I could sense exorcists.
I could see their souls, trapped inside a human shell. It used to make me proud. I could order around akuma to terrorize any city I wanted. I could unleash their monstrosity on whomever I pleased. But now, it disgusted and depressed me.
They saw me as their leader, their Lord of sorts. Now I lived to destroy them. To rid the world of their evil and set the trapped spirits free. I hoped that all of the evil I committed, the lives I took and obliterated, was slightly rebuffed by the good. I had just made it back to Venice and was on my way to the hotel Allen was staying in, when I heard the news.
Mana Walker had been killed. Hit by a carriage on his way home December 27th.
I stopped, my feet refusing to move. My head spun sickeningly and my stomach rolled and dived. Dead. What happens to little boys that lose a parent?
They become akuma.
No.
NO!
All of the sudden I could move again The thought of Allen, my Allen, being turned into an akuma brought me back to Earth with a vengeance. I still felt sick though. December 27th. That was four days ago, more than enough time for my father to visit the white-haired child.
Please Lord, please! Let Allen Walker be alright. Pleasepleaseplease! Let him be HUMAN! I thought in despair.
The world had taken on a soft, fuzzy glow, like everything refused to take shape. Fear washed through me, drenching my mind, soul, and body. Not Allen. Please. I could not destroy him. Through all of my despair I felt a small wave of surprise. For it was not the 14th I was worried about. It was Allen Walker.
It was Allen that I was crying for. Allen was the reason my heart felt heavy, my blood ran cold, and my eyes shed tears. A sob ripped out of my chest and I ran, soaring past all of the people, ripping through the crowd like a hurricane. I ran and did not stop till I was standing at the broken down entrance to the cemetery outside of town. I paused. Allen was in there, somewhere, crying. My heart sped up. I could smell him, his kind and gentle aroma. Akuma wreaked of death and oil. Humans smelled like life, warm and bright. Amidst this place of bereavement and mourning, I felt warmth.
Death has not found my Allen, but now my heart ached for him.
His father died and I had not been here to help him. I had not been here to console him. Tears dripped down my cheeks, leaving them cold and icy. I strode into the grounds, passing graves left and right, plowing swiftly through the dying, weed-filled lawn, ignoring the frigid wind that wafted dirt from the crests of tombstones into my face and hair.
I jogged faster, trying to get to Allen fast as possible as his presence near the approaching hilltop grew stronger. I heard someone speaking to him, softly crooning to him in a sweet voice. My blood turned to ice in my veins, and it felt like a shard of glass had been driven through my heart.
Father.
-o-