I haven't been on this site for so long I forgot how to upload stuff. So yeah, I had to learn again.

Chapter 2

Kanda squinted and slipped his hand into the back pocket, where his keys warmed the butt. He cocked his head, looking at the sleeping person on his WELCOME mat.

"Yo, kid," he called, poking the bundle of clothes with the tip of his boot. The pile moved, letting the hamster wheel out of his fingers. A soft sigh, another turn, and the kid was asleep again.

Kanda's fingers twitched. He already was flinching at the smell of fried fish chips in the air, probably leaking out under the neighbor's door. He was feeling the scraping in his scalp, an unpleasant side effect of cleaning the dog and cat cages three times a day.

And the worst of all, he was exactly two doors and seven steps away from the shower, and yet, this bundle of unnecessary items on his mat was keeping him in the smelly hallway.

"Yo, kid. Get up."

He poked him repeatedly with the tip of his boot until the person on the floor cringed, understanding that the taste of leather shoes is not a sleep induced hallucination, but real black shoe polish on his lips.

The former sleeper sat upright on the mat and extended his hands, frantically trying to feel his place, time, and motive in the hallway that presently reeked of fried potatoes, fish, and garlic.

He blinked, feeling that the glasses slipped off his nose. That very second, in the forty watt lighted hall, Kanda saw a pair of big, thickly eyelashed light gray eyes. The man held his breath for a second, not able to take his own eyes off the blind ones.

They were clear, too clear, as if any variation of shade or light on the cornea and iris were absent. The pupil was dilated, covering the cloudless gray shamelessly, as if trying to accuse its host of drug usage.

"Ummm…"

Kanda jerked his gaze away, suddenly realizing that the kid was holding the margin of his jeans.

"Can you help me up?" the boy said, smiling and putting the glasses back on his face. He reached up— a small hand with clean nails, Kanda noticed. He bent, grabbing the hand and pulling it up, only to feel the faint redolence of mint.

"Thank you. You're the clerk that tried to strangle me, right?"

Kanda stiffened, still holding the small hand in his own. He haven't talked yet, still the kid knew who he was. Did he recognize him by touch or something?

"What are you doing in front of my door?" he said instead, frowning.

"You smell of cheap tobacco and bergamot tea," the kid grinned. "It's a pretty strange combination."

"Huh?"

The boy waved his hand.

"You were wondering how I knew it was you."

Kanda swallowed a knot.

"I was wondering what the fuck you are doing in front of my apartment." He didn't like it one bit. The kid seemed to be strangely functional despite his disability, and the thought that he, Kanda, had pitied him twenty minutes before made him furious with himself. After all, he never pitied people. His emotions toward beings of the human variety were limited to muffled irritation and passive indifference.

"I would appreciate if you would not use crude language," the boy said, pursing his lips. "It's tasteless. Besides—"

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

The boy sighed. He bent and drew his hand in circular motions, trying to find his cane.

"I came with an offer," he said, finally gripping the desired object. He lifted his face toward Kanda's voice and smiled with readiness, like a TV host. Kanda flinched.

"Not interested," he growled and pushed past the kid, opening the door. He could finally get into the shower and wash away the ammoniac smell that the two-week-old Bengal kittens planted lovably on his shirt.

"You didn't even hear me out," the voice of the boy suddenly invaded Kanda's shower filled mentality. He spun around and stared into the huge glasses that were in his personal bubble.

"Get out," Kanda hissed, grabbing his arm and tugging him to the door. The boy yelped, his feet staggering into the impeccably clean carpet. Kanda tcheed. The brat was not only invading his privacy, he was shamelessly claiming it by sprawling like a dead starfish on his carpet.

"Get the hell ou—"

"Three thousand plus rent!" The boy yelled, lifting his hand, three fingers readily poking up. Kanda frowned.

"What?"

"I'll pay three thousand per month, plus rent, if you let me live with you."

Kanda's frown reached new depths. He stared incredulously at the scrawny figure at his feet. Then a sudden thought, almost an epiphany illuminated his mind.

"I get it," he grinned. "You're fucking with me."

"No, I'm no-Ow! Owowow!" the boy was writhing as Kanda slowly lifted him by the ear, dragging him toward the door. The boy stumbled behind him on his four, wallowing in pain and landing on his chin when Kanda stopped to take his shoes out of the way.

"Please! Let me explain! I'm not a crook! I just need to explain!"

Kanda stopped and glanced at the boy with newfound suspicions.

"I heard that before… Do you watch Discovery or something?"

The boy huffed, trying to stand up and keep Kanda at arm-length away. When he finally finished picking himself up he gazed to the direction where the college student sounded to be.

"Just…just hear me out. Please."

Kanda leaned on the door and crossed his arms. Whatever the brat was trying to say… would make no difference. He would go out the window, door and other orifices anyway.

"I need a place to stay," the boy started timidly. "I need someone to help me with the daily problems, and be non-intrusive at the same time."

"Hire a nurse," Kanda huffed. The kid negated the thought.

"I did. It was hell. She started to do everything, not even letting me cross the street by myself."

Kanda lifted a brow.

"If you haven't noticed, you're blind, idiot. Of course she would—"

"I don't need that." The boy shook his head almost with anger. "I just need someone to do what I can't do, like cook and read the bills. That's all I need."

"And?" Kanda said lazily, seeing that the kid stopped speaking. The addressee's lips twitched.

"I was in the pet store." He reddened. "The cages were really clean."

Kanda's lips twitched.

"Don't tell me you have some S&M inclina—"

"No! It's not that!" The boy frantically shook his hands. "It's just… you hate animals, don't you?" he asked, cocking his head on one side. Kanda uncrossed his arms.

"Why do you know that?"

"You cursed the entire time while changing the paper in the bird room, and—"

"Your point being?" Kanda suddenly felt uneasiness nest in his chest. It irritated him that this kid, being blind, knew him more than he expected a healthy person to do. It made no sense.

"I just need someone to take care of my needs without getting too deep. Just taking care. That's it." He exhaled, and bent his head as if looking at his feet.

"I'm willing to pay any price. I can afford it, so…" He stared at Kanda again with his blind eyes and smiled, a bit lost. Kanda sighed. He scratched the back of his head, suddenly sensing the hair tie pressing on his skull.

"How old are you?" Kanda asked tiredly.

"Twenty-one," the kid stuttered, lowering his eyes. The man immediately grabbed his ear.

"Liar. You're underage, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not! Let me go-ow!" He tiptoed, trying to rise higher than Kanda's arm that pulled the ear. The man smirked.

"Let's try this again. How old are you?"

"Ok, Ok, I'm nineteen; now let go!"

Kanda's smirk began to morph into an inhumanly cruel grin.

"And if you think better?" The arm rose higher, until the boy literally began shedding tears.

"Fifteen, you arse! Fifteen; just let me go!"

Kanda let go of the ear and hmmed. The boy sniffed, cradling the lobster red ear, his mouth twitching with contempt.

"You…you arse. I came to you with a great offer and you pull my ears out? You have no humanity!"

Kanda rolled his eyes and proceeded to the kitchen. He needed a good cup of tea, with a piece of lemon, as he always drank. The noise of the opening door halted him movements.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The boy bared his teeth. He gripped the hamster baggage closer to his chest.

"I'm leaving. I don't need someone as vile as you looking after me," he hissed and pulled the doorknob. To his surprise, the door not only did not open, it even clicked as if someone –the boy could guess who-rotated the key and took it out. The boy turned toward the man, alerted.

"What are you doing?"

Kanda shrugged and jiggled the keys.

"The only place I'll let you go is the police. Having a shady fifteen-year-old brat stalking people in the neighborhood is troublesome."

"You have no right to do this!"

Kanda rolled his eyes again, this time with apathy. He threw the keys into a bowl, and, noticing the startled turn of the boy's head to the shrilly sound, put the bowl away.

"Spend the night here. Tomorrow I'll send you to your mommy."

"Eh?" The boy's face turned from alerted to sheet white. Kanda locked his eyes on his face, trying to understand his bizarre reaction.

"I'll send you home tomorrow. That's all," he explained, frowning.

The boy gulped. The paleness faded, leaving a strange, restrained expression on his face.

"Umm, can you… not do that?" he asked, trying to use a matter-of-fact tone. Kanda crossed his arms.

"I can't. You're trouble. I get rid of trouble."

The boy hung his head, nervously tapping his foot. Kanda suddenly noticed his shoes. Yes, they were dirty; yes, they were leaving prints on his pristine floors, but Kanda couldn't not notice that the shoes were not crap. They were elegant shoes, the ones males wouldn't wear unless they were terrorized into it, or if they knew no better.

"W-well," the kid broke the silence tentatively. "If I pay you, will you let me go?"

Kanda's face darkened. He began to understand the person in front of him, and more exactly, his background.

"You ran away from your mommy, punk?"

The boy gulped loudly. He laughed fake, then stopped.

"No?"

"And let me guess," Kanda continued, "She's some lawyer, or doctor, or some big wi—"

"It's not like that!" the boy yelled abruptly. He bit his lip afterward, shifting his eyes. "Just please, don't send me home. I can take care of myself. I won't bother you, so please—"

Kanda interrupted him with a heavy sigh. He noticed (with a bleeding heart) the dirt stains on his clean carpet, and the furtive movement of the stubborn lips of the person in front of him. That made him think of cleaning solutions and a lost half hour spent on knees, trying to get the dirt out.

"Tell you what. I'll let you stay here—" he saw the jolt of hope on the boy's face and his mouth became a thin, sharp line, "for the night. Then I'll decide what to do."
The boy nodded as response and hung his head again, unsure of what to do. Kanda clicked his tongue.

"Take off your shoes. And the coat, too. Got a name?"

The boy stopped fumbling with his shoelaces and nodded.

"It's All—"

"No need. I won't remember it anyway." Kanda threw him a sharp glance. "Bean-sprout it is."

"Eh?" The boy lifted his face eagerly. Kanda smirked, there was no way the kid was fifteen. Or maybe it was possible, but again, the puniest and the most pathetic fifteen year old representative…that he could be.

"Your name. Get used to it. Bean-sprout."

The boy flushed with embarrassment.

"Wait, I'm not bea—"

"I don't care."

"But—"

"I care even less."

The boy humped, defeated. Only when Kanda let him into the living room he spoke.

"What's your name?"

The man threw him a tired and annoyed look. He sat on the small white sofa and closed his eyes, lolling his head back.

"Does it matter?"

The boy touched his way to the same sofa and sat, too upright and stiff.

"Well, I need to call you something. Unless you don't mind a nickname, or—"

"Kanda," the man interrupted, "call me Kanda."

The boy grinned. Kanda opened an eye.

"What a strange name. Are your parents foreigners? Because you don't have a foreign accent, so—"

"Does it matter?"

The boy ceased smiling. His shoulders dropped and he stared –or at least seemed to— at his own feet.

"It really doesn't. Sorry," he added, giving off a guilty smile. Kanda sighed. He needed to go take a shower, or at least a soak before the sunrise to get the damned smell off of him. And yet, a small yet persistent problem presented itself right away.

"May I sleep on the sofa?" The boy patted the seat and turned his head toward the man. Kanda frowned.

"Choose between my bed and the doormat. And no, you cannot choose the bed. It's mine, duh."

The boy made a sour face.

"You really are a dick, you know that?"

Kanda sighed, irritated.

"I don't have another blanket. I don't usually let people into my house, so I never needed more than one."

The boy smirked, not knowing whether to be amused or troubled by the circumstances.

"What are you, a hermit-crab?

The man hmp-ed impassively. He opened the closet door and took out a decorative pillow, which he threw at the boy, knocking off his glasses.

"Your pillow. Sleep on the couch and don't you dare close the window. If you die of exposure, I'll say sorry."

"Hey— wait, I was kidding! I didn't—Kanda!" The boy paced to the door, his hand accurately tracing the shape of the sofa and the table as a guide. He then stopped in front of Kanda, unsure whether he can touch the man and confirm that he is there, or just move through the doorway into the bedroom.

"Kanda?" he mumbled, shyly extending his arm and feeling the air. The man watched silently, somewhat amused. The boy let his arms drop and cocked his head, trying to hear something indicative of a furious host.

"Aw, come on, Kanda! I bet you're doing it on purpose! That's just unethical!" he waved his hands, annoyed by his failure. The man grinned, exactly six inches away from him. He could see all of this kid's expressions without hindrance or explaining, and that was interesting.

Not that he was interested in him, in any meaning or way.

The boy suddenly lifted his head, as if sniffing the air. Kanda stared curiously, involuntarily asking himself if his disability made his senses extra developed.

"Kanda, you're here, aren't you?" The boy confidently extended his arm and grabbed the man by the sleeve. "You smell awfully, like a dead kitten with a ripped bladder."

Kanda sighed, giving up his poor taste hide-and-seek game.

"You said I smell of cigarettes and bergamot. How did that combination become a dead kitten with fucked up guts?"

"Well, if I said that from the very beginning, you wouldn't let me in, would you?" The boy smiled, gripping his sleeve even tighter. Kanda smacked him over the back of his head. Instead of ceasing to cling to the taller man, the boy tipped his head as if for a kiss and grinned.

"Now that we established that you are a jerk, a dick –a very arrogant one, too— and prejudiced slash insensitive against blind people, can you make me some tea? I haven't eaten since noon."

Kanda opened his mouth to protest the false accusations but something stopped him. That something was now crawling out of the boy's pocket, rapidly ascending to take place on the top of his head.

"Oh, Campy," the boy smothered a ticklish yelp when the fluffy tail of the ferret touched his ear, "don't worry. This rude person over here will let us stay the night. Right, Kanda?"

Kanda growled as a response, opening a box of rice crackers. He stared longingly at the shower door, then at the loud kid, who was presently trying to turn the TV on by stepping on the remote.

"I thought blind people couldn't see," he sneered, taking the remote under the foot of his guest.

"And I guess being a dick can only be treated with death," the boy sat upright on the sofa and began stroking the long, quivering tail of his pet. He grinned when Kanda tch-ed and left the living room. At least he won the battle. Now he had to take care of the war.

"So," the boy smiled like a lawyer and put his teacup down. "Are you a student? Or are you some kind of…I don't know—"

"Student," Kanda growled, biting his sandwich. He frowned when the ferret left the boy's lap and climbed his own, pricking his knee with its sharp claws. "You mind getting the damn rat off me?"

"I do, actually," the boy said, wiping his lips with a paper napkin. He stared at the working TV and frowned. "Is the lady smiling?"

"What lady?"

"The announcer, is she smiling?"
Kanda stared at the TV. The woman was blond, definitely dyed. She wasn't smiling; heck, what normal person would smile while talking about arsonists?

"No."

"Damn," the boy frowned. He leaned back and opened his eyes, facing the ceiling.

"Why are you wearing the glasses? It's not like your eyes are damaged, you know," Kanda asked quietly, unconsciously wondering why he was stroking the ferret's back. The kid smiled.

"Because I want to," he then pointed at the TV. "Is she smiling now?"

Kanda irritably glanced at the TV to confirm that the woman wasn't smiling. Who cared if she smiled? What did that have to do with every—

She was smiling. Kanda stared at the kid, unable to believe his eyes.

"Well? Is she?"

"She's grinning like hell. How did you—"

The boy laughed loudly, proud with himself. He leaned toward Kanda, fingers spread. The man sat still. When the kid's fingers touched his knee, Kanda reconsidered his position.

"What the hell are you do—"

"My ferret, Kanda. I don't sexually harass old people, not even if they are stupid enough to let me into their homes— so quit dreaming."

"Who would…you—" Kanda almost swallowed his tongue in indignation. Him, old? He was only twenty! And four months! He hasn't even started his life yet, and the little maggot called him old!

"Anyway," the boy stuffed the animal in his pocket without concerns for its safety, "It's late. Where do I sleep? And don't say the sofa, I think Campy peed on it."

Kanda jumped off the aforementioned furniture, and stared at the small –and quite smelly— mark of the ferret territory. That added exactly fifty-three dollars for the cleaners, plus the movers to his household bill. He silently glared at the boy who was babying with his pet and wished for him to have sight. So Kanda could take it away.

Understanding that the murderous thoughts will get him nowhere, the man sat down to analyze the situation. After three minutes of profound musing, the man got up.

"Fuck it all. We're going to the police."

The boy spun around, dropping the ferret in the process.

"Eh? Why?"

Kanda almost hissed.

"If you haven't noticed, it's fucking late. I want to sleep, not babysit a brat. You're in the way, your fucking rat is in the way—"

The boy stopped him with a slight gesture.

"Kanda, I don't mind if you leave me and go take a shower. I am capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. I can find the pillows, and spare pajamas, and even the toothpaste." He stopped to take a breath and take Campy out of his pocket. "As for this guy, I already bought his stuff, so you don't need to worry. Right, TimCampy?"

TimCampy promptly agreed by letting a strand of hot urine on the coffee table. Kanda groaned loudly and threw a roll of paper towels at his guest. He grabbed another towel, this one fluffy and white, and stared over the shoulder at the boy and his troublesome pet.

"I'll be in the shower. Just put yourself anywhere and sleep." He opened the bathroom door and inhaled the coolness of the dark room. "Ah, before I go," he added as an afterthought, "cut off the rat's joy-stick. I don't want to drown in its piss. The nail clippers are in the left drawer."

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When Kanda came out of the shower smelling suspiciously sweetly (reminiscent of Herbal Essences), the lights in the apartment were turned off. He even hit his smallest toe by ramming it into the sofa leg. Hn, that kid did know how to get by without any help. Kanda stared at a bundle of clothing on the sofa. He hmmed. Apparently, the brat didn't mind sleeping on a wet cushion.

"G'night," the man murmured, finding it hard to leave the room for his bedroom without an exit phrase. He entered his bedroom, his beloved sanctuary, and throwing away the towel that held his hair turban style, sneaked under the covers.

He stared into the empty ceiling, dreaming with his eyes open. He then stiffened, feeling something cold, hairless and quite thin brush across his shin.

The man sat up and turned on the cheap bamboo lamp on his nightstand. He held his breath, trying to convince himself that snakes could never enter, slither, or even phase into his apartment.

He hated snakes. He hated them with a passion that was almost enviable if it were applied somewhere creatively.

"There is no fucking way…" Kanda said quietly. He carefully glanced around his queen-sized mattress and into the folds of his deep red bed sheets. Only when the man pulled away the blanket off the second pillow, the source of his fright became evident.

"Brat! What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

The blind boy turned his head upwards and smiled with a disarming naivety.

"You said to go to sleep."

"Not in my fucking bed!"

The boy sat upright. He suddenly extended his arm, touching Kanda's nose. The man drew back, bumping into the lamp and successfully knocking it over.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Hush, don't move. I can't find Campy."

Kanda froze. Unable to hide his rage anymore, he grabbed the kid again, still trying not to increase his body's interaction with the mattress.

"You let the fucking rat into my bed?"

The boy flinched. He seemed to regret his choice of the sleep-place. Or so Kanda perceived his nervous swallowing of air. Only when the boy began to strike weakly his hands, the man understood. He let go of his collar, letting the kid fall on the red pillow.

"You almost strangled me over a bloody bed," the boy hissed spasmodically. "You inept gorilla."

"Shut your damn hole," the man growled back, happy that his opponent couldn't see him. He was a bit sorry. That think was only a kid after all. No matter how old the perp, it would be still child abuse if they didn't have at least the earliest signs of puberty.

"As for your rat…"

The boy hit him blindly in the cheek.

"You're a rat. He's a ferret." He puffed his mouth and got off the bed, trying to get his cane.

"What are you trying to do?" Kanda murmured, making an effort to sound neutral. The bean-sprout (now he resembled the plant more than ever) reached under the bed and popped back up with the ferret in his hand. Then he silently yet provocatively got back into the bed and stuffed the animal under the pillow, pulling the covers up to his chin.

"Good night."

"What fucking g'night!" Kanda shrieked, jerking the pillow under the white head and looking (with some pleasure) as the cranium collided with the ferret. "Get that thing off the bed or I'll throw you out!"

The guest didn't move; he only grabbed the animal and hugged it with all his might. Kanda bit his lip.

There were only two things he could do: to kick the kid off the bed, or to push the kid off the bed. To let him sleep with the furry snake was too big of a risk. Plus, it was against Kanda's principles to bring animals, women or Lavi to his apartment. And now he had two of them.

"Just… put him under the bed." The man proposed with a calmer voice noticing that his watch was courteously pointing at 2:23. He had to get up at six. "Come on; just put it under the bed."

"And what, you'll hit it with a hammer? No, thank you. I'd rather have my Campy safe with me."

Kanda bit his tongue and gritted his teeth at the same time.

"Then at least put him on the pillow on the floor on your side. I won't touch your side."

The boy moved a tad.

"Promise?"

Kanda grated his teeth again.

"Promise. Now put the rat down."

The boy smirked, and grabbing Kanda's pillow carefully planted Campy on it. He then pushed the ferret's new home under the bed. Kanda distinctly heard a loud smooch, and the boy crawled back into the bed with the widest smile ever.

"He made a hole in your pillow and fell asleep in the stuffing," he said, fluffing the remaining pillow, then nuzzling into it. Kanda bit his lip. It was already close to three in the night, and he had about the same time to fall asleep, dream and wake up. Plus, it was Tuesday tomorrow, meaning the hardest classes in his schedule were gathered together, like a pack of hyenas.

This was no time to fight with the ruthless bastard who just gutted his pillow. The man lay down and replaced the absent headrest with his own arm. He could take it. He could endure one night (three hours exactly) without a mediocre commodity. He could take it. It was just one damn night. One night without a pillow.

A brush of cold hairless leg against his own made him shudder. A suddenly loud tap-tap-tap of small, naked ferret feet rolled across his floor then the armoire door creaked, letting the furry invasion in. Something fell down, then, after a quick yet prompt pause, shattered.

Kanda grimly overviewed his thoughts.

He couldn't take it.

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Uff. I had fun. I hope you did.

And don't forget to drop a line; I am very happy when I get reviews. Plus, it stimulates my creativity.

Thank you.