A Semblance of Virtue
By Zeida of Zeida and Maria
Disclaimer: I do not own D. Grey-Man or any of it's characters. I also don't own any poems, songs, quotes, or anything else that appears in the beginning, unless I say I do.
'Darkness feeds darkness, and destruction only fuels further destruction. In order to improve, you must improvise, using a different approach, because the one thing the enemy can not fight, is kindness.'
NOTE: Sorry, it took a while, but I'm going to be updating Tootwbm soon too, and this has been waiting. (Mostly because the next chapter's really long, and I'm trying not to update unless I've got the next chapter finished as well. Well, now it's done! but the one after that has barely been started, and it's one of the most skechly planned chapters in the plan I've gots. Anyway though, enjoy!
Dedication: I would say this is dedicated to the first two stories I've read of D Grey-Man, 'Mana' and 'In Cold Embraces' both of which are phenomenal stories, and will have likely effected this one in one way or another. The same will go for my other one, whenever it happens to come to life.
Warnings: AU, angst, depression, and mentions of murder.
Thank you for reading my ramblings, Now, onto the story…
'A picture is worth a thousand words'
Komui,
Do not trust the boy.
Cross
A picture, taken with the golem, by the detail and color it possessed, was enclosed.
A boy stood in the picture, only his upper body visible. The hair on the boy was pure white, one eye, the left, was red, while the other was a pale blue, though it seemed to shine an impossible yellow in the light. His clothes were made of a fine cloth, satin or silk, as was the top hat resting upon his head, at a slight angle. Half hidden by the white hair, a series of cross-like symbols were just visible on his forehead. The white hair was a sharp contrast to the darkness of his skin, the innocence visible in his eyes contradicted by the sinister smirk that was plainly present on his face.
He was staring right at the camera.
- + -+- + -+- + -+- +-
"I always knew, looking back on the tears would make me laugh, but I never thought looking back on the laughs would make me cry." -Anonymous
Chapter two: A new way of life
It was dark- it was always dark now, but this was different. Something cold and wet was covering his eyes, and couldn't see. His arm hurt. The left one, as always. It hadn't stopped hurting since he had murdered Mana. The first time.
He did notice, however, -Quite amazingly, considering his last memory- that he could breath. Almost freely. The next thing he noticed, was that he was warm. And not his normal, 'at least I won't freeze to death' warm, but real warmth. The kind he hadn't felt in what seemed to be ages.
Actually, he thought he could hear the crackling of a fire… Was he in someone's house? One of Mana's?
A bubble of hope swelled within him. Could it be, that it had all been a dream? That he had never killed Mana, that if he opened his eyes, the world would be bright again? Mana would be sitting by the bed, waiting for him to get up. Waiting to say 'We'll catch up to the others as soon as you're well", picking up where they had left off. The point just before everything had gone to Hell.
So sure he was of this fact, that when he sat up, which he didn't do for quite some time thanks to lack of energy, the first thing he did was yell Mana's name.
"Mana!" He looked hopefully around the room, but there was nothing but a fire on the other side of the room, and a wooden chair by the bed. There was no one. He looked down at the wet cloth that had slid off of his face when he sat up. Allen frowned, something wasn't right. Where was Mana? "Mana?" He called again, confused. "Mana, where are you? Mana? Mana!"
No response came.
Allen couldn't get out of the large bed to go look for his father. He couldn't muster up the energy to get up. He tried calling again. "Mana?" he asked again, but there was no answer. No one was in the house.
He had been left alone.
He fell back onto the soft pillows of the bed to think. Mana wouldn't leave him alone. He had promised never to leave him alone. So why?
He tried to blink, but found only one eye doing so. For a moment, this confused him, until he realized, with a jolt, that his left eye was already closed. He tired to open it, but yielded the same results. It seemed to reject his commands. The eyelid had developed a mind of it's own.
What could have caused Allen's eye to stop working?
Where was Mana?
Why did he hurt so much?
Why had he been thinking Mana was dead?
Mana wasn't dead! There was no way for him to be dead. Mana couldn't die. It was impossible for him to die.
Something cold was rising up in him.
He was confused. Things that had been thought moments before seemed to slip, just beyond his grasp. What was the last thing he'd done? He couldn't remember. What had he done, before going to sleep?
Hadn't he just been with Mana?
He had gotten sick again, and they'd let the troop go on ahead, hadn't he?
Why would his left arm be hurting? –Was it? He couldn't feel a thing…- Had something happened? Why did he feel like Mana wasn't going to come back?
The icy feeling was spreading through him, chilling him to the bone, and he started coughing again.
-Again? When had he been coughing?-
The feeling of weakness was coming over him once more.
-When had that happened?-
He could do nothing more than sit there, and cough, until copper was in his mouth, and his blankets were splattered with red.
-He didn't understand. Where was Mana?-
A drop of blood fell from his palm and onto his shirt. Everything had gone black and white…
-He didn't understand…-
When Allen next woke, it was light. There were chirping birds singing in the branches of a tree near the window he could hear them, even if the cloth was covering his eyes again, and he could hear the soft murmur of voices coming from the other room. Two men were talking in there.
-Neither of them were Mana-
The faint smell of smoke was wafting in through the slightly ajar door. Cigarette smoke. Why did he feel a pang? Mana didn't smoke. He didn't know anyone who did.
Did he?
The voices were getting closer to the door now, he could hear them.
"…Can't believe he woke up while I was out!" One of the was ranting, Allen thought he may have heard the voice somewhere…
-Where?-
"It's your own fault," The other voice was saying. "You wanted to go out." Allen didn't recognize that voice at all. "Gambling, with a kid dieing of a bloody lungs at the hotel, what are you?"
The reaction was indignant. "Look! I didn't commit homicide or anything! And who are you to talk? Remember who's paying you, will ya?" Allen felt cold…
"…Hey, what are you doing?" The footsteps stopped, just outside the door. "Are you going to check on him?" The voice asked sharply.
"Yeah, why?" The recognizable voice seemed to trigger a pause before… "HEY! Give that back!"
"You don't go into the room of a sick child with Smokes!" The voice snapped. It was followed by a scoff.
"Fine then, I'll go without my lifeline…" The door's hinges squeaked as it swung open.
"In my professional opinion, I'd say you will likely die before having children."
"Hey, how would you-" Allen could feel eyes on him, even if he couldn't see the almost-stranger. "Hey Doc, get in here, would ya? I think he's awake."
The other man, he seemed to be a doctor, rushed into the room, along with the more pronounced scent of cigarette smoke. "And how would you be able to tell?"
The sound of foot steps coming towards the bed. Allen seemed to be getting colder, and colder…
"His breathing- it's changed, it seems more… conscious." The voice said. Where had he heard it before? It must have been recent…
Why couldn't he remember?
"He's pretty docile, for waking up in a strange room, with two strangers talking about him, above his bed…." It was that same voice again, coming from right above him.
"'Docile'? What sort of word is that for someone like you to be using?"
The familiar voice ignored the obvious bite of those words, and answered the question. "I'm not sure, really. They've sort of been coming to me lately." The man seemed confused about the whole situation. "Probably heard someone say it…"
The doctor snorted. "You said before 'two strangers' he's no relation to you?"
"Nope." The voice said, the bed shifted. "Found him out in the street, wouldn't speak, then he starts coughing all over my nice white clothes."
Someone –the Doctor, the other one was sitting on the bed- leaned over him and 'Hmmm'ed. "And you took him in?" A positive grunt. "You do realize, that when he recovers –And, don't you worry, he will recover, I was treating him- he will steal everything in the room and run, correct?"
"NO." The voice seemed a bit colder now. The doctor had struck a nerve. "Why would you think that?"
A cold laugh from just above him. "A street boy like this one? That's how they act in the face of kindness! They take, take take." He could feel as the Doctor pulled away. "Are you awake, boy?" The doctor said sharply.
It occurred to Allen rather suddenly, that one of these two might know where Mana was.
The bed shifted rather suddenly. The first voice had gotten up. "Can you speak? Say something, boy."
'Boy'. That struck a cord in him. Where had he heard that before? Who called him 'boy'?
"Well? Come on, speak!" The doctor demanded impatiently. "I haven't got all day!"
He would think about it later. Now, he had to think about Mana. Even if they didn't know where Mana was, maybe they could find his troop. Mana could get to him from there.
"M…a" He tried to say it, but the energy it seemed to take, just to open his mouth amazed him.
"Ma?" The Doctor said. "And what is 'Ma? Did you even learn to talk, you worthless little-" A sound reached Allen's ear that made him flinch. Skin connecting painfully with skin, and the thump of someone falling hard, to the ground.
"Don't insult him, or you'll lose more than a few teeth." Were the cold words that were heard, before the Doctor ran out of the room yelling "I'll report this to the city hall!"
A sigh. "Hey, boy?" Allen couldn't give a response if he tried. "Boy? Ah… It's fine. Get some rest; I can talk to you after the mess is cleaned up… Don't know how he knew I'd gone gambling last night… I sure as Hell didn't tell 'm…" Allen shivered under the blankets. He wanted Mana… "Oh, and sure, I can't smoke in here, but he's allowed to leave the bud on the floor… Ah, it's still smoking…"
Allen felt a weak laugh leave him at the man's yelp. Footsteps quickly approached, and the cloth was removed from his eyes. He blinked them open.
The man was standing there, maybe still in his late teens, with one hand on his hip, and sucking a singed finger. A half-used cigarette was held in the first hand. "It's not funny!" the man squawked.
Half the room seemed to be inverted.
The man smiled. He looked unshaven and shabby, wearing clothes with wide neck openings, and no overcoat. He had unusually thick glasses, and wavy black hair. He was defiantly familiar. "You feel'n ok, then, boy? It can't be that bad, if you were able to laugh…" Allen stared at him. He seemed odd.
"Mana…" He said suddenly. It surprised even him, that he could say it. The man blinked.
"…Mana?" He said, confused. "Is that a brand name, or… a person?" Allen nodded. "Alright, a person- here comes the fun part. Who's Mana?"
Allen found himself able to sit up, as well. "He's… my father." Mana wasn't here, then. The thought that he would have to go looking for Mana depressed him. Mana had promised never to leave him alone…
The man looked surprised. "…Your father? So your not an orphan?" Allen shook his head. The man gave him an odd look. "Where is he then?"
Allen looked down; the strange contrast of a half-white half-black bed was odd to see. A grayish blob was on one side, while glints of red were visible on the other. "I… I don't know…"
The man frowned. "When was the last time you saw him?" He had a thoughtful look on his face when Allen glanced up at him.
"I don't know…"
"Where were you, the last time you saw him?" Something was prickling at the back of his mind, trying to come foreword.
"I don't know."
"Why were you out in the streets?" It was getting closer…closer….
"I DON"T KNOW!" Allen shouted, glaring at the man. He looked taken aback.
"Sorry…" He coughed, and it was quite for a moment, while Allen tried to get used to the strange change in his sight. He looked up at the man again, and stared. There was defiantly something odd about him, on the left side only, though. "Err… so, this may seem blunt, but, is it possible, that he abandoned you?"
The room's temperature seemed to drop even further with the glare Allen gave him. "He. Would. NOT." Allen replied firmly. It was almost there… Just a bit further…
The man put up his hands in surrender. "Ok… Ok, but… why would he not be looking for you at least, then?" Something was blocking its path….
Allen's glare dissipated, replaced by a look of a pitiful little boy who couldn't find his family. "He wouldn't.." He was about to cry. He wouldn't, not in front of this stranger… "He... he would die before leaving me, he said so… he would die…" A crack appeared in the defenses, and it slipped through.
And at that moment, it all came crashing back to him.
- + -+- + -+- + -+- +-
Tiki Mikk was, by no means an educated man. In fact, he had never gone to school himself. He was an orphan, who had no relatives to take him in, or families to want him. There was something odd about him, they all said. The kids in town used to come to him for advice; they found it hilarious that he could anger adults so easily, about such little things, too.
So what if he stayed in the air a bit longer than the kid next to him, when they fell into the river? Maybe the other kid was heavier than him!
He'd let that vase fall, another had said, but he swore it had passed right through his fingers when he tried to catch it.
He was just not normal, they all agreed.
Surprisingly, though, he had turned out to be a relatively care-free and cheerful adult, with only two addictions. Cigarettes, his life-line, and Gambling. More specifically, poker.
But he also had a soft spot. It may have come as the direct result of having Eaze around him all the time, but he really loved kids, as well.
So, when he found the kid in the snow, all alone, on the coldest day of the year, he did what anyone with a soft spot for kids would do. He offered to take him home. Or, at least, he was going to, before the boy started coughing up blood.
Then, he had just taken him home anyway.
He had been quite surprised to find, upon reaching 'home', which, right then was a hotel room, that the kid's hair was pure white. And one of his eyes had quite the nasty scratch. It seemed to just be scaring. Actually, Tiki would have been greatly surprised if he could see out of it. The slash looked like it must have gone pretty deep.
After checking the boy over, he had called a doctor, just any random one, and asked him to come over to check on the boy as well. A professional opinion, you know?
The doctor had said, 'He has sever malnutrition, along with Dehydration. There are small amounts of water in his lungs. I suppose he got a little icicle in there, and it cut the insides up before it melted. He's also got a bit of a cold.' .
The cold he understood, and he guessed that the icicle thing was why he was spitting up the blood, but what did 'malnutrition' mean? And what about 'Dehydration'? Those, he had no idea. The doctor didn't elaborate.
After the doctor had left, the boy had actually started talking. And not those weak little whispers he had been giving a day ago, about the hospital, but actual firm words. He thought, after the kid had started talking, that maybe he'd say he'd like to stay with Tiki. He always had room for one more, but then, of course his bubble had to have been popped, when the boy said he had a father.
That may have been why he was so persistent, why he pushed the subject, even after the boy reacted so strongly to it. "Ok… Ok, but… why would he not be looking for you at least, then?" He was kind of jealous of that Mana guy.
"He... he would die before leaving me, he said so… He would die…" The look on the boy's face as he said this, a look of fear, desperation, and sadness, broke Tiki's heart.
It must have fixed itself quickly though, because it was defiantly able to have an attack a moment later, when the boy's hands suddenly went to his head, and he started screaming.
He ran over to him, worry evident on his face. "Boy! Hey, boy? What's wrong this time, you have to tell me, okay? Calm down." He was relatively familiar with kids having health problems, because of Eaze, and his what-ever-the-hell-it-was disease. The name was too complicated to get off the top of his head. The point though, was, he could be objective- sort of. Brent was better at that than him.
He was gasping out dry sobs, trying not to cry, his shoulders trembling with the effort. "No…No! It's not… It's not true!" He pushed Tiki away, and shot out of bed. Tiki was sure that wasn't good for him in his condition. He followed cautiously, not wanting to hurt the boy, if he lashed out.
He found the boy clawing at a door knob to open it, but the hand he was using to open it was trembling too much to get a grip. His left was hanging motionless by his side. "Boy? Boy, that's the door to the closet…" Tiki said gently, carefully stepping foreword, carefully, but deliberately. "Calm down, alright? What's wrong?"
The boy turned sharply, pressed up against the door like a cornered animal, and stared at Tiki. He shook his head violently, ready to dash away at the first opportunity. It wouldn't be long before he found the door to the hotel room.
He stepped closer, and the boy's eyes started looking in every direction for an escape rout. Was he that scary? Maybe he should loose the glasses? But then the… the beauty mark would be visible. Geh, no. He needed them, anyway. The glasses, not the beauty mark. He'd get rid of that in a second. "Shh… it's ok, boy. Just calm down, I won't hurt you, I just want to help…" He said, taking another step towards him. He hoped his voice sounded soothing, as he continued. "You can trust me, ok? Tell me what's wrong…"
He seemed to be preparing to run, before all the fight left him, and he sagged a bit where he stood. His left arm still hung limply at his side. He sat on the floor. And sniffled. "Y-you… you sound like Mana when I first met him…" The boy was ready to cry, that much Tiki could tell, but… Wait, did he say 'met'?
He kneeled down in front of the hysterical child, a 'shhh'ed him again. "It's ok, you can tell me, 'kay? I've got all the time in the world…" Well, that wasn't really true, he was due to leave for Sheffield yesterday. They could wait a day or two though. He wouldn't keep his friends waiting too long, and if worst came to worst, he could say he lost all his money gambling again, and had to get it back before taking the train. It was an excuse he'd used before.
The boy stared up at him for a long moment before he opened his mouth to speak.
"Aap," Tiki said suddenly, and the boy gave him a confused look. "Names. We need to be introduced. I'm Tiki Mikk. You are…?"
"I- Allen Walker…"He answered, obviously not used to introducing himself. Tiki nodded. Allen seemed to take this as a signal to start talking.
And, before he knew it, he was being told what seemed to be the life story of Allen Walker.
The words were awkward at first, but before long, they were spilling out of his mouth as if he'd held it as a secret for his whole life, and needed to get it out. Aparently, Mana wasn't actually his father. Well, not by blood, at least. He had been abandoned, because of a slight problem the boy had, which, even when Tiki asked about, he would not tell, and left to fend for himself at a very young age. He had live on the streets for over two years, from four to a bit more than six, before he was finally saved by Mana.
Mana was the ring master in a circus, and had taken the boy in as they passed his town. Allen had learned how to be a clown in the circus, and had grown very close to Mana over the years. Aparently, Mana had goten sick at some point, and died in the hospital. The way he said this, though. It made it seem as if there was more to it than that. But Tiki thought it best not to ask. They had only just met, after all.
Then, he started talking about monsters. When he was visiting the grave, a man came to him. He told him, that he could bring the boy's father back. Allen had been desprate to do so, and agreed. From the way Allen spoke fo the event, Mana had, in fact come back to life. But he was no longer Mana, but a skelital monster, that had caused the slash across his left eye.
Tiki wondered if the monster had gotten his left arm, too, and that was why he didn't seem to use it.
Somehow, the monster had been destroyed, Allen said he had done it, but would not go into detail. Tiki had found this, as well a bit odd, but, as last time, remained silent on the subject.
He had laughed- a soft, bitter laugh as he told Tiki of this last part. The stuff this kid had gone through… Even if a bit far-feched, at the end, put he felt inclined to believe him. He had always been a very open person, after all. Plus- a kid like Allen doesn't just lie about something like that. Tiki himself should know- he had been through a similare life. Though, admittedly, a lot less… tragic.
Tiki was quiet as Allen finished his story. "And, so… I kept walking, moving foreword, you know? 'Cause that's what I promised Mana I would do…"
It was dark out now, probably around midnight, he hadn't realised they'd been talking or, more like Allen talking, and him listening, for that long. They both needed sleep. He reached out tiredly, and patted the boy- no, Allen's head. He looked quite indignent.
"Well, I don't know anything about monsters- Akuma, did you call them? I wonder what language that is… Er- anyway, I don't know anything about monsters, or evil grinning men-well, maybe a little bit about evil grinning men, but none like that- sorry, but I do know, that I'll be skippin' town tomorrow, and if you wanna keep going, you could always come with me."
Allen looked up at him with the most adorably hopeful eyes he had ever seen, apart from the time he had found that silver band on the ground, and said he would give it to Eaze…. He really liked silver… He seemed to be getting off track a lot, lately… They eyes were cute, end of story.
…His head was starting to hurt, and it had nothing to do with his current situation. It was one of those headaches…
"W-would you… really?' Allen asked. The kid seemed to like him. He refriened from saying 'AWWWW…" under the grounds that it was distinctly un-manly, but he did grin good naturedly down at him.
"Sure, Allen, as long as you don't mind living with a buch of miners…"
- + -+- + -+- + -+- +-
It turned out, that Allen and Tiki didn't get any sleep that night, as the moment Tiki mentioned it, Allen's stomach growled.
Tiki decided it was a distinctly lucky move; that he went gambling the night before. He had done good, and gotten quite the bit of cash. It wasn't a really big gambling town, but it was big enough, that a humble poker player as himself could score a few suckers to get some extra bucks. As it happened, he was going to need every bit of those winnings. Allen had not only eaten ravenously, but he also seemed to be able to eat twice his weight. Tiki was astonished. He ended up giving the food he had gotten for himself to the small child as well.
It was interesting, at least. To see the 24 hour pub owner's face as Allen wolfed down the food like there was no tomorrow. Then again, the that boy, there may not be.
He'd spent the rest of the night, wondering why he was getting these mad migraines all of a sudden. He had never gotten them before, and it seemed unlikely that he was sick; he was showing no other symptoms. But damn, did they hurt. And he was doing it again.
He didn't even know half the words he was spouting these days.
First thing in the morning, after his wonderful little sleepless night, they had to catch a train, which left too damn early. They were headed for Sheffield, which was a few train rides away. If he was lucky, he would only be two days late. If he was lucky.
Allen seemed to be taking the early morning traveling as the norm, so he supposed Allen had traveled a lot as a… clown. A kid his age being a clown in a circus sounded a bit… illegal, but who was he to talk? He had spent his early life giving people advice on how to annoy their families for their allowance.
"Hey, Tiki?" Allen asked, pulling on his sleeve. They were in a car on the train, the low class seats, as with Allen's appetite, Tiki didn't have the money to spring for anything better. It fascinated Allen, though. He wasn't used to trains; apparently, he had only ever traveled in a caravan or coach. Tiki looked down at him.
"Yeah?" Allen shifted a bit, so he was facing him, and sighed. Tiki dreaded whatever statement would come next. It was bound to be overly depressing, and hard to respond to.
"How do I keep going?" Tiki was mildly relieved that he hadn't fraised it with a 'how do I go on living', but he found himself grasping at straws for an answer.
He hated being right. Well, sometimes.
"What… do you mean?" Tiki adjusted his glasses to stall for time. How was he supposed to give an answer to a question like that to a twelve-year old?
"What I mean is, how am I supposed to keep going, when I know I killed my father? How do I 'keep moving foreword', if the past is dragging me back? I… I don't know what to do…" This would be another one of those 'Awww' moments, mind you. You just had to show sympathy when a kid like him had a face like that.
He thought about it for a moment. When someone close to you dies… What would he do? No one important to him had ever died… But, if one of those three died, he supposed he would be devastated. But… how would he go on?
No. That wasn't how he should think about it, Tiki realized. He needed to think about it from the other side. What would he want one of them to do, if he died? That was the sort of question he needed to ask.
"…Don't think about him like that." Allen gave him an odd look. "What I mean is, if I were dead, I wouldn't want people thinking of me as dead. I would want them to think about the good times, when you were happy. He would want you to think of him at his best, not his worst… The happy things. Or, at least, I would assume so, I can't really say for sure, since I've never actually met him…"
Allen put his feet on the wooden bench, and drew his knees to his chest. "No, I think you're right." He was quiet for a long moment, a thoughtful look engraved in his face. "I'll think of the happy…" He said finally, in a hushed voice.
And, to Tiki's horror, tears welled up in the boy's eyes, and he sobbed.
A women looked over at them suspiciously.
"I…" Allen sniffled, not bothering to wipe the tears away. "I never thought something like that could make me cry…"
He curled further in on himself, and Tiki patted his back, deciding, that if that women came over to check up on what was going on, he'd let her try, as well.
He wondered how Eaze would react to another orphan around his age becoming part of their group. Allen had to be a few years, maybe three or so, older, but not too much of an age gap.
At least Brent and Carlos wouldn't be able to make fun of him for being the second youngest, now…
- + -+- + -+- + -+- +-
Now, wasn't that fun? and congatulations to all of those who realised it was Tiki! He's my favorite character. (And no, he's NOT a Noah yet) Also, he's probablty JUST turning like... twenty, or so, in this, so he's kinda younge and... Naieve? is that the right word? Well, anyway, Brent and Carlos are the names I gave Tiki's friends, since they didn't have names in the Manga. Eaze is the little kid who has the button from AYeegar, and I've decided he probably has a thing for silver, since Tiki calls it his 'treasure' and promises to get him more. Also, Eaze is four years younger than Allen in this Fic.
Remember- This is slightly AU, and won't go quite to the manga. If ages, names, or anything else technical like that are wrong, sorry, but don't tell me unless it's REALLY important. I'm not liekly to change them once their already posted.
Anyway, thank you, everyone who reviewed, and cookies to all who review again! This story has an odd format that will sort of tell Allen's past and future togather as the fanfic continues, so beware that for a while, the stuff before, and the stuff after will be from two different times.
And, anyone who was wondering- yes, the stuff at the top was the contence of the letter sent to Komui that Allen showed Rhode at the end of the last chapter.
