Author's Note: I'm baaack. Well, this was much faster than my other updates. Anyway, this chapter concentrates on Allen's past, even though you guys already know the gist of it. It serves as a prelude to some much needed action. Hopefully, I won't disappoint. I would like you to know that, although I didn't write about it, the missions with Matal, Miranda, and Krory did happen, but this concentrates on the afterwards. They are yet to start looking for Master ehm- I mean General Cross and the stuff about Allen's past and his eyes happens this way rather than on other missions. Just to let you know, I completely changed the direction in which this story is headed. The Noah such as Tykki and Road won't be as sympathetic towards Allen as in the manga. By the way guys, reviews are much appreciated :) they shall become my motivator.
Disclaimer: I do not own a thing. Seriously man, I'm broke.
CHAPTER 4
A few months have passed, and much has changed about the order. They had never been so deep in the war before; so much had happened and so many lives were lost. Despite that, even with the helplessness creeping in, there was something that made the Order's members want to keep looking forward, to not be consumed by grief and breakdown. Something, or rather someone, that kept them from losing hope. They continued fighting, continued living. Besides, who would want to disappoint the source of their hope anyway? Many have identified their anchor and held onto him as if their lives depended on it; and maybe they did. Looking back, they realize that they have lost so much, but if they don't move on, would those losses have all been for naught? He made them realize that.
There he was, after returning from a tiring mission, walking along a surprisingly not so depressing hallway. He made a point to smile and greet anyone who had passed him. In return, he got them to reply in the same attitude, ultimately uplifting the atmosphere. He entered the cafeteria, eyes scanning the crowd to find a fellow exorcist. Seeing none, he continued his way onto the lunch line, ordering a meal that can fill an entire family on Thanksgiving. He sat down and immediately starting working on consuming everything on his plate. As a kid, he never had the luxury of having at least one filling meal per week. He would walk aimlessly along dirt roads, passing by people who went out of their way to keep a good distance between them. No one ever approached him, but that didn't stop them from whispering harsh words to one another and eying him as if he was a monster. He had finally found a job at a circus; where else were freaks like him supposed to go? That's where he met him. He was just another peculiar clown that had taken an interest in him. He found it weird. Why did this man talk to him? Did he even care about him? No, he thought. Yet strangely, he began seeking said weirdo's company. He began enjoying their time together. Fondness grew into attachment, and he knew how dangerous that would be. If this clown left, what would become of him?
Would you like to be my son?
That was when the clown completely took him by surprise. He just stared at him. How was he supposed to answer that? Was he joking? Was he... serious? The clown chuckled at him, but then he looked at him with a sincere face. He said that as his father, he would never leave him; they would go everywhere together. And without thinking, Yes. It just spilled out of his mouth. His now adoptive father smiled at him and wore an expression that he couldn't translate. He just went with the flow. They spent everyday together. They left the circus and walked around just about anywhere. He had never experienced such massive happiness and warmth in all of his miserable existence. Shelter and food were no longer a concern. All he needed was him; but that fantasy didn't last very long. Very soon, his father grew ill. Even sooner, he left him. He had always been lonely but now he was truly left alone. He didn't think anymore. Didn't feel. He just sat there on that gravestone. Empty.
That was when he had come; in the darkest part of night when no one could save him, not that they would in daylight either, to take advantage of a vulnerable soul. He asked him a simple question.
Would you like to see your father again?
Hope. It seeped through every corner of his being. Salvation. It was one answer away. Yes.
If he hadn't been so out of it, he would have never trusted anyone, much less a big fat guy in a funny suit and top hat about such things. But that wasn't what concerned him at the moment. It was the possibility of sharing his future with someone he loved.
I can bring him back. That was all it took.
Mana!
At that moment, he can't even express how he was feeling. So many emotions were rushing through him, all to be shunned. Then, he was staring at a skeleton that was supposed to be his father. He must have been delirious to feel such joy. It must have been hearing Mana's voice again that was his undoing. Everything happened so fast. He had been tricked. He barely registered the words of the man on the side commanding the skull with Mana's name to kill him and wear him like a suit, before there was a hot, searing pain in his left eyes. It was all horrifying.
How dare you?! How could you turn me into an akuma?! A what?
I curse you!
His words were ringing in his ear, yet he couldn't do anything to change his situation. Then the gravity of what he had just done hit him harder than anything else he had ever encountered. He had just brought back his father's soul, one that had probably entered a peaceful slumber already, from the dead, and now he was going to die at the hands of the only person he had ever loved. He had done this to the both of them.
And then, his life took on an even greater twist. His arm, one that had made him out to be an outcast, one he had hated with everything he had, had taken on an even uglier form. He watched as it, against his will, completely smashed the skeleton his father's soul resided in. Again, everything happened so fast. Yet, it went so excruciatingly slow for him.
No Mana, no. NOOOOOO!
Thank you.
MANAAAAAA!
I love you.
"Allen!" He snapped out of his reverie. "Huh?" He looked up to see a worried expression on a usually grin-wearing redhead's face. "What's wrong, buddy? I called your name several times."
"I'm fine. It's nothing." "You sure? You seemed pretty out of it?" "Yeah, sorry," he wore an apologetic smile. They knew about it, or at least, a part of it. Due to a surprise visit from the fat man on a previous mission, they had found out about how his curse mark had come to be. They knew that because of his selfishness, his father had to suffer through death twice. It was unforgivable.
He had explained that his eyes could detect Akuma but he hadn't told them that he could see their souls. He didn't want their pity. He didn't mind though. He actually welcomed the sight. It was his punishment for what he had done. For all his sins. He had long learned to stomach it. What he hadn't counted on was his comrades to experience it first hand on their latest mission. They had no idea just what it was they were seeing at first, but the level two had explained that they were looking at the world through his eyes.
"Komui said that you should go rest up a bit. The meeting must have been quite tiring for you." Allen laughed, disguising his uneasiness. "Yeah, I probably should. I actually am pretty beat. I'll see you later then Lavi. Goodnight." He did his best to not seem bothered. He knew the redhead probably wouldn't buy it, but he continued the facade. In they morning, it would all be a distant memory; he would make sure of that.
On his way out, his gaze met with dark cobalt eyes as the samurai was making his way into the cafeteria. He couldn't really read what was going on in his head. He stopped in front of him.
"Hello Kanda," he said casually.
"Che," was all he got.
"What? Can't come up with a more elaborate response, Bakanda? Oh yeah, I forgot, your vocabulary is only limited to a select few words other than che, soba, and the occasional curse word."
"Say that again, you damn moyashi, and I'll fucking chop your fingers off, one by one," he growled.
"It's Allen! Come on, just one more word to add onto your list. I know you can do it, it's not very hard for anyone with an average IQ. Oh, wait a minute...," he replied calmly, unfazed by the promise of death.
"You fucking brat-" he unsheathed his katana, ready to make due of his promise.
"Kanda! Leave Allen alone!" And then he was being reprimanded by a girl with a clipboard. How much more did his pride have to take to shut these idiots up?
"He's the one who started it for fuck's sake." He knew he was going to be yelled at for his use of "bad language."
"He's right Lenalee. It's my fault. I had provoked him. Anyway, I'm gonna head to my room now. Have a good night, both of you." He stopped her before she killed him with her caring. He waved and walked away, leaving them to watch him go. He didn't want to suffocate from more of their kindness.
He felt a little better now, after that verbal spar. It was good to know that at least one person wouldn't treat him differently just because he knew some of his past. He knew they didn't mean anything by it. They were just being sympathetic, and he could relate to that. But sometimes, all a person needed was stability; to be reassured that this changes nothing. Kanda still hated him. That made him happy, as strange as it sounds.
He had feared that everything would change now that they knew. His mission was with just Lavi and Kanda, but during their report, they couldn't leave anything out so Komui found out, who in turn told Lenalee. He was glad she hadn't tagged along and seen all of that. It would have been harder on her than the guys, to see such an unsightly thing. Lavi's eyes had gone wide and all he did was stare. Allen couldn't see Kanda's face from where he was standing.
"Allen... is it true?... Have you always been able to see this?" Lavi spoke in a haunting tone, eyes not leaving their place. "Yes," was his quiet response. He watched Lavi swallow as if there was something stuck in his throat. Whatever he was going to say, he couldn't say it. The mission had ended rather smoothly. Lavi had tried to comfort him but what was there left to say? He didn't need comforting words now, so many years after the first time he had laid eyes on one himself. Eventually, Lavi began his random ramblings to lighten the mood, and Allen smiled, letting him know he appreciated his efforts. He had gone downstairs of the inn to go call Komui to let him know they had retrieved the innocence, leaving him in the room with a very quiet Kanda.
The air was tense, very much so. He felt Kanda's gaze on him. He finally gathered the courage to look up at him and ask, "What is it?" That's when he chose to look away. "Che," as if it were all just annoying to him. As if he were nothing but a big nuisance. That irritated Allen to no end, but he knew he had no right to feel that way towards anyone else when the person he was most angry with was himself. He let out a sigh.
"-m... rry-" he mumbled.
"What was that?"
He looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry... you had to see that." That received him the most incredulous look he had ever received from his katana-wielding comrade.
But then, with hard, narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, Kanda got up from where it was sitting. His bangs shadowed his face so Allen couldn't see the grim expression he was wearing as he approached him. Allen took a step back, a little intimidated by how cold the room had gotten. He prepared himself from being struck when he saw his lips in a tight line, only to have Kanda pass right by him and head out the door with a mere brush of the shoulders. Allen just stood there, eyes set on the same spot Kanda once inhibited, uncomprehending what just happened.
Allen looked back on the memory, glad there relationship had gone back to normal with each other tearing at the other's throat. Although Allen was never one to fear the samurai as the rest of the Order did, in that moment, he had honestly been afraid. He truly felt guilty for allowing them to see his world.
Little did he know that that wasn't the reason for the cold-hearted exorcist's fury. To say he was disturbed was an understatement. Sorry? He was sorry? For what? That stupid beansprout actually thought that this was his fault? That this was something else he had to protect everyone from? How could anyone act like that? The bean's a damn martyr. A naive self-sacrificing idiot.
So what if they were a little spooked? Why would he take that all to heart and apologize when he was the one who suffered through the same nightmare every time he saw an akuma. And he chose to be an exorcist. This just makes the Moyashi's resolve all the more scary. He had been ready to knock some freaking sense into him when he stopped himself. Why should he care? It was none of his business after all, and with that, he left the room to go vent out his anger against an innocent tree. (A/N: Poor tree. May you rest in peace.)
Don't stop. Keep walking.
At times like these, he would remember his father's encouraging words which he used very often while he was still alive. As if it were even possible, Allen had strengthened his resolve further. He would protect his friends above anything else. He would save as many Akuma as he could until his last dying breathe left him. He had to admit though, he was being worn out, and the war had barely even begun. Everything was reflected in his face. He was maturing, losing some of the baby fat on his face, but that didn't change his ideals one bit. He would still try to save everyone, no matter what the cost, even if it meant selling his soul. Too bad he didn't know how literal this claim was. Part of Allen's past was revealed today, but there is still so much more that even he doesn't know about himself. The upcoming battles will cause all of their pasts to resurface, and he would be there, every time, to pull them out of the depths of despair. However, what would happen if he were the one to drown?
-BlueMoon333
