So many things I can say about why I don't update… but they would all be excuses. Let's just say I'm an overachiever with a bigger eye than my stomach, and that I have some commitment issues.
I'm sorry if you're upset with me (in reference to some reviews and inbox messages, for this story and other ones), but I don't know if my "sorry" will mean anything. I hate disappointing but I have to say that fanfictions don't rule my life the way it used to when I was younger.
With that said, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to anyone who's still sticking around, as well as those who contributed to ideas to my other stories. I would list all of you wonderful people out, but I don't want it to imply you can expect consistency from me in my updates…
(But if you want your name listed, any of you, inbox me your names and I'll edit it into this chapter)
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Disclaimer: Don't own.
P.S. yes, this is very YULLEN.
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Section One: Finding Out His Schedule
Allen sat himself on the curb, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he glazed up towards the blazing sun. Why was he even there, wandering the streets, attracting attention in his camouflaged shirt, pants, helmet, and large, heavy knapsack? He wasn't sure anymore. Freakin' sun.
He stood, stumbling towards the nearby telephone booth for support, feeling hotter as a young girl rode by in her parents' car, pointing and laughing at him through the rolled-down backseat window. He sighed to himself – he remembered now.
"All Lenalee's fault," Allen muttered.
Somehow, she had managed to guilt him into this… with her eyes. And somehow, she managed also to guilt him into this outfit… with her eyes.
"To blend in with the environment!" she had said, and he nodded as he stared, smiling. And when she handed him a stack of romance books and a map of the city – not that he needed one, being an inhabitant, but was probably given one for dramatic effect- "To find him in that environment!" she continued.
As Allen held the items and peered over the side of the heap, only to catch a glimpse of Lenalee's hair, he asked, "Why aren't you looking for him yourself?" Lenalee grinned.
"Because I have to make my meeting him everywhere seem like fate." She patted the confused boy on the shoulder, "You'll understand after you've read those books.
But he didn't… not really, anyways.
Allen sighed again before removing his pack and letting it clunk down on the ground. He opened it and rummaged its contents before pulling out a book. Allen flipped through its contents.
So besides him not being a vampire or demon or corporate lawyer or whatever, this guy seems to fit the description. Apparently handsome, brave, and cool… although in this case, I guess it's cold, from what Lenalee says. So if he fits there, I guess Lenalee probably though his daily routine must fit life of these male protagonists…
Allen continued through the book until he reached the last page, paused, and suddenly, with a livid flash across his expressions, threw the book down. He grabbed his hair.
"But I can't find him anywhere!"
And this was true- For you see, after Lenalee filed in a "sick day" for Allen with the forged signature of his "aunt" and therefore forcing the boy away from his job for that Monday, Allen had been visiting what he thought would be stereotypical job sites for this mystery man.
He first went to visit construction sites, because that's where all the really buff men are, right? And then he moved on to plumbering services, with the tough men who can hand a lot of literal shit; then to the doormen, who tirelessly wait on the spoiled and protect against dangerous intruders; and finally to taxi drivers, who can brave muggers and knifings to the face, at the dead of night. But Lenalee didn't seem to agree with Allen's reasoning and choices of her prince's job, nor did she appreciate the amount of money Allen had to spend riding taxis, so they would not think him crazy when he made small talk and asked for their names, all the while staring at them through the rear-view mirror.
"What are you talking about?" she had shouted through his cellphone, after a morning of dead-ends. "How are those jobs romantic and manly?"
"How are those jobs not! I think you're not appreciating the full extent of how hard those men work!"
"Okay, fine, I will give you that those jobs are 'manly' but they certainly are not romantic!"
"Don't you think you're being judgemental, then? I mean, I don't see why these men aren't given more respect in society. They deal with a lot – just behind the scene!"
"Oh Allen," she scoffed, "go find some paper and a pen." And she gave him a list of jobs to look out for.
"Think of it as a hierarchy," she said, traces of a scoff evident in her voice. "On the bottom are manly men, then manly and sincere men, then manly and smart men, and finally, the manly and sincere and smart men." Lenalee ignored Allen's, "By whose standards?" and continued on.
- And that was how Allen spent noon and a large part of his afternoon. With a sandwich dangling from his mouth purchased during a five minute break at the corner market, he looked inside bookstores, karate dojos, pet adoption centers, clinics, police stations, fire stations, lifeguards at local gyms, and basically in any building where he thought he saw someone high up in the "hierarchy" enter. But alas, it was futile efforts as he ended up not only exhausting himself but also emptying his wallet and leaving a nice dent on his credits account.
"I guess this is the price of trying to please woman," he picked up the book, bent from where it hit the floor, and threw it back into the bag. "Almost makes you want to give up in women all together!"
And then he caught himself. Shook his head and laughed.
Him? Gay? Preposterous! Allen didn't know the first thing about attractive men! Girly, maybe? …I guess they'd be attractive if they looked like girls? So the girly, the better?
He stood up, swung the backpack over one shoulder, and removed his helmet. He began walking towards a bus stop, glancing back into his helmet once in a while to stare at the sweat that gathered inside, before emptying it out at a nearby sewer. He got on line and waited for the bus, tiptoeing out into the streets for a better sighting range, but sudden earsplitting screams caught his attention.
And Allen suddenly noticed the café swarming with girls of all ages, clouded around a man with hair so long it should be illegal. It was the same café Allen passed… many times… like, seven… seriously.
Allen eyed the crowd apprehensively before noticing his bus approaching. As the passengers in front of him starting entering the vehicle, he pulled out his phone and dial Lenalee's number.
That couldn't be him, could it? he thought. How can anyone be that popular?
Allen looked towards the center of the crowd again, at the figure who seemed either to be scowling or crying – he couldn't tell from that distance. Then he turned to the women clawing at him and the tray of beverages in his right hand.
"He" could even be a woman, with hair that length, he thought as he held the phone to his ears, hearing it ring. I mean, they could all be lesbians or maybe, even just really thirsty! It was then that his phone clicked and he was pulled away from his thoughts by the sound of Lenalee's voice.
"Hello?" Very pleasant, rather sweet sounding, and Allen could just imagine the clueless face of the girl at work, holding a phone without a caller ID.
"Hi, this is Allen." He pause and continued when he received no response. "Listen, can you describe to me again what this man looks like? You said he had rather long hair, right, but what exactly did you mean by 'lon'-"
"OH MY GOSH! DID YOU FIND HIM? DID YOU FIND KANDA?"
Allen jerked the phone instinctively a few inches away before cautiously bringing it close again.
"Well, I don't know. What does he-"
"Handsome, tall, black hair that seems a bit blue under the shine of light, long black hair, and very handsome."
Allen couldn't help but grimace through a twisting pout. "Well, if you mean feminine with long black hair, then yes, it's probably him-"
"Oh gosh, Allen! It's him! It's probably him! You have to stall him! Go and talk to him!"
"Wha- But why? He doesn't seem like he's going anywhere," not like he can even if he wanted to, he thought, eyeing the crowd. "Why do I have to go and talk to him? For all we know, it could be someone else."
"ALLEN! THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR YOU TO BE FEELING INSECURE!" And again, after tentatively letting the phone near his ear, "Look, I don't know when he's getting off work but it's already six so it's not an impossible concept. Stall him while I get ready, and I'll meet you there. Then we can decide whether or not it's really him."
"Wait… did you jus say 'get ready'?" Allen asked, and Lenalee blew into the phone.
"Of course! I can't meet him in my suit and loafers! I already did that once – what if he thinks I don't change! I'll have to run home, find a nice sundress, curl my hair, freshen my makeup, and, and – Oh Allen! You just have to stall him! I promise I'll be quick but just stall him! Go and talk to him! Make some small talk! Ask for his type! – Heck, ask if he's single! Give me the address and I'll meet you there!"
And as soon as he did, she hung up. Didn't even give him a chance to ask why the man – "Kanda", if Allen remembered correctly- would think she doesn't change if a suit and loafers were part of her job uniform or actually, when Lenalee even started wearing makeup! Had she always been doing so and Allen just never noticed?
Allen shook his head and looked up as the bus and the line of passengers, which had depleted to just him. Although there were only three people besides him in line, all in front of him, they had somehow taken so long that he was able to finish his conversation with her. And as the bus driver dramatically closed the door in his face, while the passengers stared at him as if rain was about to pour down from the heavens any minute and wet this poor soul down to his underpants, it drove off.
Downcast, Allen eyed the disappearing vehicle before taking a deep breath. He looked again to the crowd before tentatively approaching it. But when he neared them, he halted as a woman was flung backwards by those pushing closer towards the center. She fell into his arms.
"Are you okay?" he said, or would have if she didn't promptly slap his face.
"Don't even try," she said as she scrambled up, "my heart already belongs to someone else." And she ran back into the other women, trying to squeeze herself back into place. Allen continued clutching his cheek, standing in place. When the shock finally began settling, he glanced at his phone, thinking about calling Lenalee and telling her he's had enough. But instead, however, he just looked at the digital clock on the upper right hand corner.
"She's right," he mumbled, "despite the sun being out, it is rather late." And only when he saw the long hair man attempting to walk back into the café did Allen try to brave the women and managed through.
He pushed his way through, past the fence and a few tables surrounded by overturned chairs and women trying to stand anywhere they could manage balance, before he was thrown back by the furious friction and shoving. He tried again, and again, and despite what people say, the third time is not the charm. It was the fourth.
With his temper riled by the tempers of those surrounding him, he managed more forcibly than ever to get past the crowd but by then, the man had entered the café and locked the doors. Allen joined with those up front and banged at the doors and windows. But within a few minutes, he found himself let inside the room, and only himself let into the room; the man had spotted him and pulled him through a slightly ajar door before locking it tight again.
"I'm closing the shop soon but you can be a last minute costumer – it's always nice to have men around here," the man said as he took off his apron and hung it on a nook nailed to the wall. And now that Allen was closer, he could tell this long-haired figure was definitely a man. Besides the long hair, there was nothing feminine about him! His cold eyes, the stiff shoulders seeming to sport some muscles from the way the cloth clung onto him – everything! He really could not understand how this man was attractive! And what did he have that I don't!
Allen glanced down at his himself before looking back at the man. So okay, maybe he's taller… but that's about it! Really! What does Lenalee see in him? Maybe if he had a mirror, he could make a better judgment though…
"Well, what do you want? I don't have all day." The man crossed his arms and narrowed his already narrowed eyes. "And are you a soldier or something? I didn't know we were in a war – unless you're from a previous one and just decided to parade around in uniform today? – but don't expect much of a discount for service. I'm not a big fan of politics."
Allen's eyes widened at that (which war is he talking about) before tugging forth the rim of his shirt and staring at it – And sure enough this man had a point. How was he supposed to explain the camouflage? Cosplay?
"I'm – er- I'm a reporter!" he nodded to himself. "Yeah, that's right! …You would believe me if I said that, wouldn't you?"
The man did not reply and continue scrutinizing Allen under furrowed brows. Allen sighed.
"Okay, I'm not much of a liar so I guess I'll just tell you. This is actually my spy outfit."
"…Spy… outfit."
"Y-yeah, that's right" Allen pulled at his neck-collar and smiled nervously. "I was sorta' sent to spy on you…" and he muttered a string of sentences but the man was only able to catch "schedule" and "plumber". Then the room fell completely silent – minus the banging around them- and Allen fidgeted. A good minute or so past before the man made any movements.
As he began untying the knot on his own apron, he smirked.
"You know," he began as he hung up the fashionably black piece of clothing on a nearby hanger. "I don't get many male admirers, so I didn't suspect anything. But now that I've gotten a good look at you, I probably should have. I mean, you're just so…," he looked Allen up and down, "stringy…"
Color rose quickly from his cheeks, moreso from the vulnerability he felt as piercing eyes roamed across his figure than from the comment itself. After the man placed all the loose glass cups back into the cupboard before locking it, Allen took a step back; the man began towards him, with an unreadable expression.
Allen frowned nervously, man only inches from his face. But when the man finally pulled away, he continued. "But I will, however, tell you one thing so remember this," he made for the front of the room. "I'm not interested in fags, especially not the ugly ones.
"Now get out of my sight."
And after he shut off the lights and stalked out the café, leaving Allen alone in the darkness, was Allen able to take in what was just said. And if Allen wasn't white with shock, he could have wondered why the man hadn't escorted him out and lock the café to fend against robbers. Instead, Allen just stood there, even after the women outside began scattering away and back home, even when the sky dimmed and the streetlights flashed meekly on. It was only when Lenalee arrived at the scene, found her dumbfounded friend in a dumbfounded gape, and shook said friend multiple times, did Allen finally come back to his senses.
And when he finally did, he turned to Lenalee slowly and lowered head until his bangs hid his eyes. And he said, as his voice escalated with every passing word.
"What… a… fucking… BASTARD!"
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It was Monday again, a week after Allen's horrible first encounter with the worst human being that could possible exist on the face of this earth; and by worst, he meant the most vile, contemptible, mean, disgusting, bad-looking thing in existence – the worst. And all the while he sat in his car, seething and filling the vehicle with heat that smelt nothing less than human, he couldn't help but hate himself for still sitting there, outside the café, staring, waiting.
Waiting for that thing!
"AH!" he smashed his hands down, hitting the horn. The car honked obnoxiously and Lenalee jumped up before jabbing Allen at the side. Lenalee, who was brooding but a few seconds ago, was alert once again.
"What do you think you're doing, Allen?" she said. "That's really loud. It's going to attract a lot of attention!"
"Well, if he's in there, it's not like he's some animal we're preying upon, and would fly away at the first sound of noise. Besides, even if that bastard was, how will he even be able to hear us over the roar of the women who seems to have nothing to do with themselves beside STAND AND SCREECH AT A GUY WHO… who… w-WHO IS JUST A DOWNRIGHT BASTARD!"
Lenalee shook her head and pulled up Allen's hand, to stop him from repeatedly slamming the steering wheel's center. "You really should calm yourself down," she said, "I thought you were a gentleman."
Allen's face fell at that and he stared into Lenalee's eyes before taking a breath, withdrawing his hand. She's right… this wasn't like him. He was a gentleman.
"I'm sorry Lenalee, I didn't mean for you to see me this way," he mustered a weak grin, "But I'm better now – I swear. Let's continue our stakeout, okay?"
Lenalee smiled and nodded vigorously. And that was all that mattered. Not the girls who were glaring at them, having heard the furious beeping and caught parts of Allen's words through their rolled-down windows. Not their boss, who had erupted in a fit of incoherent fury when the two decided to take their paid vacation that week. And most of all, not the infuriating Rapunzel who should be locked in a tower as high as the nose he sticks in the air. Lenalee was happy, and that was all that mattered.
"So do you think he'll show up today?" Lenalee finally asked, softly.
"Hm… maybe."
"I mean, it has been a week. You don't think he would have changed his job?"
"Why would he do that?" and before the thought of Allen himself being responsible – first gay stalker?- completely set into his head, he quickly continued, "I-I mean, he could just have a busy schedule, that's all! Maybe he wanted a confusing schedule to confuse all these blood-hungry women."
Lenalee looked at the crowd, who returned their attention towards the interior of the café, before biting her lip. "I guess that makes sense… Although, it looks like the café is closing soon."
A man from within, with a shock of bright hair that was hard to make out from the distance, came out and began speaking with some of the girls. After a few minutes, they groaned in an oddly perfect unison and began dispersing. The man then proceeded to stack the chairs up on the tables and sweep away the trash.
Allen glanced at Lenalee, who looked more depressed than ever. "Should we… should we start heading back too?"
Lenalee did not turn towards him. She continued staring at the scene before finally nodding. But as Allen replaced the key in the ignition and prepared to leave, they heard the sound of a loud engine nearing from somewhere in front of them. And sure enough, a figure came clearing into view – a man on a black motorcycle. His face was covered by a helmet black enough to pair but his hair wasn't, as it was too long to –
"KANDA!" Lenalee stuck her upper body out the window and waved her arms high up in the air. "It's Kanda! It's really Kanda!"
And sure enough, when the man had parked and showed his face – almost as if both actions were done in one swift motion- it was Kanda. Allen shuttered at the sight before, unconsciously or not, looking away. It was the man who had haunted his dreams for the past week! Total exaggeration but a pointed one, nonetheless!
Lenalee had returned to her seat. "Oh my gosh, Allen, oh my gosh! It's really him! What should I do? What should I do?" She fanned herself. "Should I go and talk to him? Oh, but what should I even say! Should I ask him how his day was? Should I ask why he's coming to work so late in the day? Maybe I should ask him what his favorite restaurant is and hope he gets the hint! Oh Allen, tell me what to do!"
Allen smiled weakly. The man had walked up, exchanged a quick word with the bright-haired man, who was pushed aside after trying to hug the bastard. And with an ugly, seemingly slanted strut, Kanda disappeared into the café only to emerge a few seconds later.
"That was fast," Allen muttered as he watched Kanda peel off the hand of the bright-haired man, who had again tried to touch his coworker. And as he began walking back to the motorcycle, with a coat in hand, Lenalee screeched.
"He's leaving, isn't he!" she turned, grabbed Allen, and shook him. "He is, isn't he? Do something, Allen, do something!"
"Can you please stop shaking me! And what do you want me to do? Don't tell me you want me to talk to him again!"
"Oh Allen, he's going to get away! After we finally saw him again, he's going to get away! – And this time, we won't have another week to wait for his return! Do something, anything, like call him or bribe him or- or- run over his motorcycle!"
Allen broke free from her grasp and inhaled. "What?" he choked.
"You heard me, run over his motorcycle! Then he'll have to talk to us!"
"Lenalee, I think that – and I might be wrong but- you have lost your mind!" Allen ignited the car and pulled it into reverse. "We're leaving, Lenalee, and I'm going to take you home. You probably haven't been getting enough sleep but this is crazy – even for you!"
Allen looked over his shoulders and pulling backwards. Lenalee looked from him to Kanda, who was right by his vehicle, having put on his coat and was in the process of filling his helmet. She looked between them again, and again before finally, her eyes darted to the handle and she pushed it to "Drive".
The sudden shift of direction surprised Allen and he stomped down on the gas in response. He shut his eyes and clutched harder onto the steering wheel. A resulting crash rang through the block, followed by the sound of engines violently hissing, and when he finally opened his eyes again, his eyes were met with a pair of darkened purple, blacker than black. They narrowed and Allen felt a shiver rang up his spine even through the protection of the still intact window.
When Allen finally blinked, he saw Kanda walking towards him. With his mouth hanging open, he racked his brain for something to say. Something, anything, anything but what kept popping into his head, which went something along the lines of, "Hi, remember me? And this is what you get for rejected me without me even liking you."
Kanda finally reached him and bent his head down to meet Allen's gaze again. Allen forced a smile when Kanda opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Lenalee started, from behind him.
"This is Allen Walker, and he's very sorry for what he did!"
Allen spun around and stuttered. "Wha-"
"He is willing to accept the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be!"
"Lenalee!" But no, she continued on.
"Name your punishment and he will accept it! He is the honorable type who always stands by his word and will never let you down! So whether you want to take him on as a slave – not like those sex slaves ideas of anything that keeps floating around in mangas and stuff because that's just disgusting- o-or even, make him your pretend gay boyfriend to scare off all the girls (1), or-"
"Wait, I'm sorry but," Kanda rubbed his temples, "you lost me at 'slave'. …But if you're talking about payment for my motorcycle, then yes, I would like for it to be fixed. You see," he grimaced, "I am – rather- was quite attached to it." His eyes flickered towards Allen, who felt cold sweat run down his face.
Allen gulped. "Exactly h-how much was it," he asked.
And the man smiled darkly before leaning towards Allen and whispering the figure into his ears. Allen's eyes widened and he pulled back.
"That much?" he yelled with the ambiguity of a man caught in a typical dramatic situation, in which he owes a lot of money to an unbelievably attractive and popular guy. "I can't pay that! Not with my salary, anyways! It'd take years!"
But when a sudden revelation dawned on Lenalee, however, she perked and threw a pointed finger at Allen. An idea! And what a good one at that!
"It wouldn't be much if you worked two jobs!" she shouted, "Allen, take a job here at the café! That would help you make enough money!"
And Allen threw up his hands before holding them in front of Lenalee.
"H-hold on, Lenalee, hold on. What makes you so sure they even have an opening?" He turned to the man, with eyes imploring him for a confirmation. Kanda, however, was looking at the top of the car, in thought.
"I guess that could be arranged," he finally replied, "we have been thinking of hiring a part-time, with all the business we've been getting."
"B-but wait! Y-you don't even want to hire me!" Allen propelled himself at the open window, causing Kanda to jerk back. "Don't you remember me and how I disgusted you? You don't' want to hire something you hate, right?"
"…I don't believe I recall. Have we met?"
And this was where Lenalee cut in and covered her hand over Allen's mouth, stopping his "What kind of FUCKING bastard-" short. She beamed at Kanda, smiling so hard that her eyes disappeared into slights.
"Ignore him – he get really excited when he's happy. So when should he start, supervisor?"
Kanda raised a brow. "Morning, I guess," he started, deciding it'd be better for him not comment on the two, "come in a white dress shirt and we'll provide the rest of the uniform. Oh, and bring a resume too – just in case he's actually something kind of shady…" he trained off as he stared at Allen, who was still screaming at Kanda through Lenalee's hand. "Actually, on second thought, nevermind the resume. He looks too weak to fit that category. Just come tomorrow and at the end of the day, I'll tell you whether your performance got you the job or not."
And he turned back towards the café, at the bright-haired man who seemed to be grinning. When Kanda was finally out of hearing range, Lenalee removed her hand.
"Lenalee, why did you-"
"Just following the plan." She wiped her hands clean on Allen's shirt. "Part one, of finding out his schedule, has been a flop, so we're revising it. Since he keeps moving around, it'd be impossible for an outsider to know his routine. If you can infiltrate his inner circles, you should be able to not only record his schedule but also get close with him at the same time! I mean, how much better could things have turned out? You will be able to tell me everything about him!
"And just think, Allen, by this time next week, you could even end up his best friend. How great would that be?"
Allen stared at Lenalee, his mouth hanging open. When his jaws began hurting, he finally closed it and gritted his teeth. It was through them that he finally managed,
"It'd be… just fantastic."
End Section One
Next Chapter
Section Two: Becoming His Best Friend
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(1) lol, time for the "guess the reference", I guess ;p