Once again, Kanda found himself in front of a toilet puking his guts out. He didn't really remember when he stumbled out of bed, or when he'd started getting stomach pains. All he knew as of that moment was that his head hurt, his throat was on fire, and he could taste blood in his mouth. Another Technicolor yawn made him drop to his knees. He leaned his forehead against the cool porcelain. Why was this happening all over again? He'd been doing so well. For an entire week, nothing had happened. Even Eve seemed to be in a good mood at the time, commenting mildly that he seemed to be progressing. She was smug as she gave him a soft punch in the arm, and he didn't wince. The strange, slightly sadistic doctor seemed to be relishing the fact that her treatment was working.

It seemed that all of that was going down the toilet, literally. He was throwing up everything he'd eaten, and then some. Finally, when he only had bile to throw into the toilet, he was surprised to find someone holding back his long hair. Cold hands felt his forehead and his neck before leaving him. They came back again, but they were heaving him away from the toilet.

Kanda blearily followed, noticing that the body bracing him was smaller than his by a long shot. He was led to the sink, and he could hear the water run. He didn't want to open his eyes, though, because he had a feeling he knew who was helping him. His brain didn't want to register the fact, because it didn't seem plausible, or even possible--

"Here, lean over a little bit. There, that's good. Lean on me, it'll make it easier," a soft voice said wearily. He obliged, and the cold hands were wiping off his face and his neck. They were incredibly gentle, too gentle. This didn't make sense. Was this part of the disease?

"Come on. Let me put you back in bed. We'll see what's wrong in the morning," the voice said, the tremulous alto voice gravelly with morning bleariness. He felt the cold hands take one arm and sling it over a slim, but strong, neck. The other hand went around his waist, and he was going down the hall. He didn't want to open his eyes. Not yet.

"You're almost there. Don't go out on me now. You're way too heavy to drag. I might tear something," the voice said, though the words weren't making much progress in his mind. It was a sluggish thing, refusing to work as it should. His legs were weak, almost as if they'd been atrophied. His body wasn't in top shape, not like it used to be. He sadly regarded this as his hands groped around for the bed he knew was in front of him.

The hands helped him sit and slide into the bed, reassuring him of their presence. They were too soft, too gentle. He'd always imagined them like marble, hard and unyielding. Why were they like this now? He knew who they belonged to. He knew from whose mouth those words were issued from. He refused to believe it, though. Did she have a sister? Was there another woman that bore the same voice and hands, with a different name?

Why was Eve laying a hand on his forehead, then on his neck?

How had she come into the equation as the comforter instead of the tormentor? Always, always, she was the one wielding needle and scalpel. When had she suddenly become, not just a doctor, but a caregiver? Where was the nurse? What time was it?

He cracked his eyes open, finally. Eve's face was white, gaunt. She looked like she'd drop dead soon. Her dark brown eyes were filled with regret and…pity? No, no pity. It was something else. Suddenly, she shut her eyes and said, "No worries, Kanda. Sleep. We'll get you fixed up in the morning. You'll be fine." Kanda's gray eyes followed her as she started to leave. She lingered at the door, contemplative.

Was this all a dream? Would he fall asleep and not remember any of this in the morning? Was this why she was leaving so suddenly, after he starts to wake up from what seemed to be a nightmare? Maybe all of this was a nightmare, and he'd wake up later.

Eve was still standing at the door, thinking, when his eyes slid shut, and he was gone.

Outside, in the rain, Eve walked. Her heart was heavy as she carried results in her hands. They were drenched by now, the ink running. She sat at a bench, the water cascading down her face and into her hair. Her eyes were nearly blank, lifeless. How long? How long was this going to last?

She stared at the results, the blurring lines of script having long become meaningless to her. Pain echoed through her hollow heart. It had just begun to fill. Why was it so painful? When had agony become attached to this case? Everyone was asking her so many questions.

The rain pattered on her face as she looked up.

"I thought this would work."

The clouds darkened, then lightened as lightning lit up the sky.

"I thought I could do it."

Why had she tried so hard?

"I though I had it."

In her mind's eye, she was replaying the events of the past twenty-four hours. She had been peering over file after file. A knock at the door made her look up, and she had seen an old man with a heavily casted leg standing there. She hadn't said anything, just gestured for him to sit.

Zhu entered the room, his good eye tracking the woman as she continued to look over her files. He had read them over many times, wondering and hoping. Was this woman doing the same thing?

"Hello. I believe we have met before?" Zhu asked politely. Eve had looked up briefly before answering tersely, "Yes." Zhu continued to stare at the woman, who continued to scribble on a pad of paper, before saying, "I…have news. Important information on the case."

This made the pencil stop. Eve straightened in her chair considerably, and Zhu imagined her as a crow attracted to a very shiny object. She nodded, motioning him to go on.

Zhu sighed. He had started slowly, the story pouring out like pebbles out of a bag. He noticed that Eve's face was growing darker and darker, her expression hardening. Zhu's hands trembled as he finally reached his conclusion.

It was here that Eve stopped her mental rewind in a freeze frame.

"Why are you so cruel to me? Why do you throw this back in my face this way?" she whispered to the sky. "How could you do such a thing? Giving me a taste of victory, only to snatch it away. Cruel."

Her soliloquy continued. "I wish…I wish…"

What did she wish? What was there to wish for? And why should she wish? It was no use to wish. And yet, useless hope was buried in her heart, just underneath all of the grit of years of hard work and cynicism.

"…for more time. I wished I had more time." It was useless to wish.

Kanda sat in his room idly, watching the gray sky. He'd seen Eve outside not too long ago, and she hadn't had an umbrella. He told a nurse, and the nurse nervously told him that Eve did this type of thing a lot-- she had an inbred immunity to colds.

Kanda had scoffed. "Stupid doctor. I can't have her getting a cold if she's supposed to be saving my life." The nurse had quickly left the room not long after.

Now he was sitting here, waiting for that disgusting stuff they called 'breakfast'. It was a nutritional slop, intended to make one healthier but only succeeding in grossing patients out. Kanda had had to eat the stuff for the past week, and he was almost glad that he'd thrown all of it up last night. He was dreading eating again, though. For some reason, his body seemed to be rejecting food, though earlier this morning he'd gone to the cafeteria for a snack, and nothing had happened.

Still, he was musing about his doctor. She'd been gentle…

Suddenly, the door opened, and Lenalee walked in with a large tray of soba noodles. Kanda's face grew a surprised expression, and he realized that he hadn't had soba in months. His stomach growled audibly, and he winced. Apparently, his stomach had missed his favorite dish as well.

Lenalee gave a winning smile and said, "Eve said you could have these. Her words were 'you passed the test this morning.'" Kanda wanted to scream. She'd been trailing him to the kitchen! That little…

He looked at the soba. So the trailing hadn't let to all bad things. He looked at Lenalee suspiciously, as if she was going to suddenly say, "Just kidding!" and snatch the entire tray away. He picked up the chopsticks and clicked them experimentally. He was rusty from having had to use a spoon to scoop mush all the time.

"Where's the dragon?" he asked with his mouth full of food. He'd gone about a mile per second with his food. Lenalee chuckled as she put a hand over his arm and said, "Slow down. You're going to choke on your food." Kanda frowned at her, but heeded her warning, going just a mite bit slower as he chomped his way through the entire bowl.

"So what's with the sudden change of heart?" Kanda asked. Lenalee looked perplexed and admitted, "I don't know. She just said to send this up to you, and I was there so I offered. I wanted to talk to you. How've you been feeling?"

"I've had better days," Kanda said dryly. He tapped his chopsticks on the rim of the bowl.

Lenalee and Kanda talked for awhile. As before with Allen, they never touched on anything very serious or sad. It was mostly every day things. That was, until they'd reached the end of their conversation.

"Kanda, I'm glad you were there. For me, that is," she said almost unconsciously. Kanda's eyes cut to her, wondering what that could mean.

"Wait…what?" he asked simply. She looked at him with violet eyes and smiled.

"You were always there for me. You probably don't remember it, or even think much of it, but you were like…like, my support system. You, and Allen, and Lavi, and Komui. You were like…my big brother. The one that didn't act like my sister," she said with a smile. Kanda stared at his lap for a moment. He'd never thought of it that way. It was true, he'd been there for her when Leverrier had scared the crap out of her. Several times, he'd saved her during missions. He'd let her into his life little by little.

He guessed he was a sort of big brother.

There was a loud knock on the door. Both Exorcists looked up to the doctor standing in the doorway. Eve looked slightly haggard, her skin still quite damp from her time in the rain. She'd changed into new clothes, and since she didn't wear make-up she had no black streaks down her face. However, her hair was still dripping as she walked in.

"Lenalee, I need to talk to Kanda," Eve said abruptly. Lenalee looked slightly surprised, but smiled at Kanda and left. He watched her leave with a stern set of face. He pointed to the empty bowls.

"What was with the treat?" he asked. "And what was up with last--"

"Kanda, you're going to be glad you're sitting down after I tell you what's going on." Kanda's gaze trailed from her face to a large wad of wet papers. He frowned. What he could still see of the writing, it was in Chinese. He didn't read Chinese, so he had no idea what they said. He had the feeling they were connected to the Second Exorcist Project, though.

"What is it?" His stare was glacial. Why was it that, last night, she'd suddenly been gentle? Why was it that she'd given him soba today? Why was it that she wasn't throwing quips and sarcastic remarks about how his hair was frazzled or that he'd had to reattach yet another finger? Something was bothering the woman, and he couldn't tell what it was.

Eve sat down in a chair and sighed. She put a hand to her forehead, leaning against the arm of the chair. Her face was angry, almost distraught. She didn't look like she was going to cry, but she did look like she wanted to take the nearest monitor, chair, or mug and smash it into millions of pieces. Her hand covered her mouth as she stared at the floor. Minutes of silence passed by. They were both waiting for someone to speak.

Finally, Eve said, "Kanda, you have an expiration date."

The words, at first, didn't make sense. Kanda frowned heavily. Expiration date? Why would he have an expiration date? How did someone have a set day to die? Kanda felt like he couldn't breathe. His life had been on borrowed time. He'd been ticking done to some unforeseen date in the future, and no one had told him. Eve continued talking.

"The Second Exorcist Project was, obviously, a success. You and Alma Karma were the first successful Syntehtic Disciples that made it through the project without completely falling apart immediately after birth. In those days, nearly a decade ago, they got cocky. They thought the war would end in a manner of years. They couldn't imagine that it would span for this long of a time. Because they thought they wouldn't need you any more, they created an expiration date in which you would die at a set time nearly twenty years after your creation. That was the plan for all Second Exorcists, even Alma Karma," Eve explained. Her gaze slanted to the window where the rain pittered softly.

"Most everyone knew. I imagine that…Mr. Epstein didn't. I believe he might've been against this idea of an expiration date. Twi Chan's notes suggest that she was forced into it was well. Leverrier was one of the brain parents of the plan," Eve said, her voice strangely detached. Kanda was staring into an empty bowl, as if he could suddenly switch places with it. A bowl could be chipped. It could be dropped. But it didn't have a self-destruct plan, at the least.

"You said twenty years."

"Yes, I did."

"I'm only twenty-five." Eve winced painfully. She took a deep breath and said, "Your tattoo and the Sangenshiki and Shouka sped up the deconstruction process." Kanda finally looked at her. He noticed something was glistening in one of her eyes. However, it disappeared in a flash, and Kanda put it as an illusion. Eve suddenly stood up and started to leave.

"Hey, hey, where are you going?! Aren't you supposed to be answering questions or something?" Kanda asked gruffly. Eve looked over her shoulder at him. The look she gave was scary because it wasn't something Kanda could place. She shook her head and started to walk out. She said, "I've got work to do. You'll have a visitor soon. I believe you now him well." With that the door shut behind her. Kanda flung back the covers and stood up, ready to go after her.

He stood there, unsure. Did he really want his questions answered? Could she answer them? Would she answer them? Eve seemed preoccupied with this new complication, and Kanda was afraid to ask what was on her mind. He bet she'd never had a patient with a deadline. They only deteriorated. But what was better? Knowing exactly when you're going to die? Or remaining oblivious to it until the final few minutes?

He sat back down on the bed. He stared at the wall. When was he going to die? Would she stop working on him because he was going to be dead anyways? He hadn't asked if he was workable any more. Maybe they'd keep him alive until the latest minute. Would they? What was the use?

Kanda looked at his hands. They were rough from years of fighting and sword practice. Even now, Mugen was sitting in a chair next to the bed like a faithful friend who would hold his hand every step of the way. He looked from his sword back to his hands. Two of his fingers had stitches all the way around the knuckles where they'd freed themselves of his flesh. They were nearly dead now, with the nerves hardly registering anything. He could still move them, but they were stiff.

Was this how he was going to go? One by one, his limbs would fail? It was an awful way to go. Kanda looked out the window and wondered if this could've ended any other way. He could've been shot multiple-- no, no that wouldn't have worked. He'd been almost impervious to Akuma bullets. What if he'd--? No. That would've meant they all would've died in the ark. At least he'd beaten Skin Boric beforehand.

He sighed as he lay back down on the bed. If he had a deadline…couldn't they finish with him now? Could he ask for them to pull the plug? What if he ended this on his own terms? Kanda rolled over to stare out the window. He stared at Mugen out of the corner of his eye and touched his Innocence softly. To die, piece by piece…

It almost made him want to cry.

The door opened, and Kanda sat up quickly. At the door, hesitant and more than slightly afraid, was Zhu. The old man tottered to the chair next to Kanda that Eve had vacated. He sat stiffly, and he looked at Kanda with his good eye. He was so thin…

Zhu couldn't believe how much Kanda had grown up. He was so tall, and his hair had gotten so long. But sickness was making his skin pale, and his eyes had started to lose their luster. His arms were thinner, and he looked so, so tired… Zhu's eyes filled with tears. He'd let this happen. How could he have let this happen.

"You…you've grown up," Zhu stated shakily, smiling unsuccessfully. Kanda stared into his lap. Zhu knew that Eve had spoken to him about what he'd told her last night. She'd said that his health had went into a steep decline not long afterwards. Something about an allergic reaction… Still, it was heartbreaking. Kanda was like Zhu's only child, and he could do nothing to stop the boy, no, the man's death. A shaky hand traveled towards Kanda's and gripped it firmly.

"I know…I know you probably hate me. I know you don't want to talk to me. I understand that, I do. I just…I just hadn't expected it to happen so soon," Zhu said, his voice full of pain. He looked at Kanda through new eyes. He looked at him, full of accomplishments and pride. He'd been like a star. Zhu couldn't put in words how proud or how thankful he was that he'd participated in Kanda's life.

"But…I want you to know that, no matter what happened…no matter what they did…I still saw you as my son."

Kanda looked up in surprise. Zhu was crying now, and his free hand was pressed against his mouth.

"I'm so sorry I never told you. I couldn't, though. How can I tell you something so heavy? You were full of life. I couldn't let death hang over you like a shadow. It wasn't…I couldn't…It was too much for you, Yuu. I couldn't do that to you," Zhu confessed. He had his head bowed. His hands shook as he said, "I watched you grow so fast from a stumbling child into a marvelous fighter. I taught you how to hold and care for Mugen, and I crafted it for you. To let you know…to let you know that someday, very early, you would die on an appointed date…"

Zhu lifted his head and looked Kanda straight into the eye as he said, "Kanda Yuu, I was honored to be your mentor." Kanda frowned, unsure of what to do. He reached a hand to Zhu's shoulder and grasped it. He looked him in the eyes and said, "And I was honored to be your student. You taught me…everything. Almost."

Zhu smiled shakily. "Stop humoring an old man." Kanda shook his head. He'd never considered how big a part of his life had Zhu played. The old man had, indeed, taught him nearly everything. He'd taught him that the lotuses were illusions. He'd taught him how to handle his sword. He'd done so many things and yet…

"I never got to thank you, did I?" Kanda asked softly, chuckling softly. Zhu smiled at him, a tear running down his face. He shook his head.

"No, you didn't dear student. You didn't. And you didn't have to." Zhu sniffled and embraced Kanda. He stiffened slightly at first, but relaxed. Cautiously, because he'd never done such a thing before, he awkwardly looped his arms around the old man. He leaned his head on the man's shoulder, and a tear slid down his face into the old man's shirt.

Eve sat in her office as she gazed at the sheet of paper. She didn't comprehend any of what she was reading; her mind was elsewhere at the moment. It was centered on two people as of then. She put down the paper and paced the room. She shivered. Why was it always so cold? She was always cold. Warmth had never made itself known to her.

She walked over to her filing cabinet. On top of it, a picture of a large team of people stood. They were all standing behind one child, who was emotionlessly smiling at the camera. Everyone in the picture was stoic, and the black and white quality of the photo made it seem more impersonal and synthetic. Eve stared at it blandly.

Some days she wished she'd never been born. Other days she considered other people lucky that she had. Several of her cases wouldn't be alive otherwise. Regardless, she didn't care one way or the other. It didn't really matter to her.

In reality, every time she said this, she was lying to herself. She worked every day of her life to keep herself from going into the black, never to return. It was like walking along a path made of glass over an abyss, and any wrong move would send her sprawling into the deep, endless pit. She shivered, and this time it wasn't the cold that caused the involuntary shudder.

She looked at her blackboard. It was full of chemical signatures and formulas. There were three separate sections-- one was for an Exorcist, one was for Kanda, and one… one was for herself. She touched the chalky board, contemplating all of her life's work. It had managed to preserve so many other lives, why couldn't she save her own?

She didn't want to die. She didn't want to have to face death, not now. She wasn't ready yet. She hadn't lived long enough. She didn't have enough time.

It was didn't matter.

And now, Kanda. He had a deadline. The papers had been too badly damaged to see the exact date, but it was soon. He was supposed start deconstructing five years from now, though. It was too early, but he could thank Shouka for that. Stupid scientists…

A knock on the door made Eve jump. She had been pacing, and she hadn't noticed it. She walked over to the door and wrenched it open.

"What?…Oh. It's you," she sighed. Link stood at the door. She glared at him as she leaned against the door frame.

"What, shouldn't you be harassing Walker right now? He might go Noah on you if you don't," she taunted, full well knowing what he was here for. Link's expression didn't change as he stated, "Ms. Rothshire, I am here to deliver a message." Eve's body stiffened, but she didn't move from the doorway.

"Well, have at it," Eve said tersely. Link looked left and right nervously before he said, "' To Ms. Rothshire, we have come to acknowledge that your time has become increasingly short. We would like to extend to you a way out. This method will be much easier. Quicker. Painless.'" Eve gave Link a stare that could melt walls.

"Get. Out. Tell the cronies at Central that they can shove their 'method' up their asses. I'll meet my own Maker on my own terms," she grumbled angrily. Link nodded. He understood that she wasn't necessarily shooting the messenger. At least, she was trying not to. He left as the door slammed.

Behind the door, Eve slumped against it, her head leant back against the firm wood. She shoved a breath out of her throat. Her hands were shaking, and her thoughts were scrambling for purchase along the scrabbly rock face of her mind. She'd known this was coming. She'd known that sooner or later someone was going to do something.

Eve shakily shifted her shirt sleeve off of her shoulder, exposing the flesh to the cold. Her eyes were about to fill with tears as she gritted her teeth and dug her nails into her shoulder.

Inked into her shoulder was a barcode.

Doctor Yok: Heeeeeello again! Yeah, this chapter is WAY shorter than the rest of them, but hopefully it still pertains some sort of angst and/or drama that we all have come to love. :D Been writing like crazy, man. Mainly because I'm sort of trapped in my house... But, I'm getting out to school soon, so the updates will slowly trickle in instead of being dumped on you like this. As well as homework and all that other junk...well.

Enough about that! Thank you Chocomintkt, and of course Se-tar for your excellent reviews. Also to Marufu-chan and crimsonangel3579! If reviews were candy, I'd be a fat kid.

Now, give me your thoughts, your feelings, all of that good stuff. Hell, make your own predictions and see who's right. I'll keep 'em comin'!