04 – Dark

The problem with storms is that power had a tendency to… Stop existing. Which was a problem, because Kanda was in the middle of finishing a project that worth a quarter of his grade. He couldn't see, so he couldn't properly put his paint brush down. He risked smearing paint blindly on a rather important piece of work.

Of course, that wasn't the only problem.

The power had cut at the same time as a crack of lightening seared through the air and struck something nearby. That wasn't really the problem, either.

The problem was that Allen had panicked. Kanda hadn't even flinched. Allen had jumped, fingers slamming onto piano keys in a terrifying clang of clashing notes.

Well there goes the silverette's recording. Brat would have to start over. Not that Kanda cared.

He just…

Understood what a pain it was, having to redo something that was worth a hefty part of your grade. Kanda sighed, pulling his cell phone from his pocket and using it as a temporary flashlight so he could put his paint brush down and save himself the fraying nerves of ruining his assignment.

"Oi, brat."

He didn't receive an answer. Kanda grunted. Was the brat scared of storms or something? He really shouldn't be surprised – the beansprout was kind of wimpy sometimes. Most of the time.

(All of the time, except not).

"Beansprout."

He still received no answer. Kanda shined his phone's light toward his roommate and sighed when he realized Allen was sitting on the piano bench with his knees tucked under his chin and arms wrapped tightly around his legs. He certainly looked terrified. Not that Kanda cared. Though, they'd shared a dorm for a year and a half now, and this was the first time Kanda had ever seen the music student legitimately terrified.

He knew he was going to regret this, but he pushed that back and used his phone to find the actual flashlight so he could use that and conserve his battery in case – heaven forbid – someone actually called him (a transgression for which he'd probably kill). Clicking on the flashlight, Kanda moved over to Allen and rapped him a few times on the head to get his attention.

"Beansprout."

"Hunh…?" was the meek response. Damn, this was utterly pathetic. A fear of storms, huh? Or maybe it was just the lightning. It really couldn't be the noise.

"Idiot. It's just a storm, relax."

"…Easy for you to say." Allen muttered sourly. Good, he was starting to get distracted. Still, the answer pissed him off, so he (lightly) whacked the idiot over the head. Allen winced, a hand going to his head and he glared up at Kanda.

"Dumbass." Why did Kanda have to be the one to help out, anyways?

Oh, right. Because tonight was the one night Lavi and Lenalee decided not to pester them. So it was up to Kanda to make sure his idiot roommate didn't have a breakdown. Sighing again, Kanda sat on the edge of the bench. He pointed the flashlight at the keys and music tray. Allen blinked up at him quizzically, mind muddled by the storm's terrorizing effect on him.

"Well? Are you going to play, or not?"

He received another odd look. "…Why?"

Kanda resisted the urge to slap his own forehead. The brat himself said that playing helps him calm down and relax. Was he so terrified by the storm that he'd forgotten? Even Kanda had remembered that – though he claimed he wasn't listening. The conversation that information came up in was between the beansprout, the idiot rabbit, and Lenalee. He would adamantly deny he'd been listening at all.

"You're an idiot with no redeeming qualities." Kanda grunted. "You said yourself that the piano helps you calm down."

Allen blinked owlishly at him. "…You were listening to that conversation…?"

"Of course not." The raven haired art student swiftly meted out punishment (another whack to the head) for the silverette's stupidity. "It's just hard to drown out your stupid conversations with the other idiots. That's it. Dumbass."

"Ow, Kanda!" Allen rubbed his head, narrowing his eyes in an attempted glare. It came out looking more like a pout. "Stop hitting me! And calling me an idiot, idiot."

Kanda rolled his eyes at the childishness. "You're an idiot. Look, play. You'll feel better."

"Why are you so concerned, anyways?" Allen pursed his lips – he still looked like he was pouting.

"Because you look pathetic when you're wallowing in misery and fear." Kanda pointedly looked away. "It doesn't suit you, idiot."

Allen was silent. Surprisingly. Thankfully. He suddenly smiled – it was halfhearted, but it was something, and not a mask, either. Also a bonus. The piano student uncurled himself from the bench, sat up straight, and started playing again from the beginning. He had a piece to work on for class and it was important.

He would, of course, have to splice their conversation out of it. Allen's smile brightened a little. He had recorded proof that Kanda did care. At least a little.

And that was something.