Cold hands

Chapter7 ColdLandscape

The Japanese man looked round his room. He had been in the room from the time he came to the black order as an exorcist. The same white sheets on the very same bed, the same delicate cracks that spread on the four walls, the very same simple table placed to the side on the room.The lotus that only his dark eyes could see were scattered round the room as usual.But something was wrong though.Very wrong. The lotuses were normally of a white color, dusted with pink. These lotuses were of a deep crimson color, and in some primitive part of his mind Kanda linked the crimson color with the liquid that were currently pounding through his veins. A sense of foreboding swept through him, a feeling that Kanda Yuu, though he would die before admitting, took seriously.One, it was almost always correct, and two, this feeling normally linked to a certain brown haired girl.

The solid room around the man changed, melting, and reforming. The floor beneath him gave way and he dropped suddenly. The Japanese closed his eyes, hoping it would help his churning stomach. Then after what seemed like a minute, his boots hit water. The male's black orbs examined the area with an air of wariness, as he observed every area he was unfamiliar with. The substance he was on seemed to be water, though he could around walk with no visible problem.The sky that seemed to stretch on forever was of a cold gray, void of any color, and in fact, the landscape was of monochrome. A single structure stood out of from the gray sea. It was the instrument of crucifixion.The Christian cross showed signs of intense weathering. There were large cracks running down from the center of the cross, spreading like a network of webs. There were no lotuses here. Though this place was as cold as it was, the lack of lotuses gave him a slight feeling of…?

Kanda jolted up from the edge of his bed, upon hearing the sound of a creaking hinges. The bleary-eyed Japanese man looked over to find the petit brown haired girl at the bathroom door. Her hair was slightly damp, and she was in an over-large shirt; one that he recognized as his own. From the white shirt, slender milky legs made their way towards the bed. She held a fluffy white towel held in her hands. She sat herself on to edge of the bed, leaning towards the Japanese male, studying him with her doe-like eyes. Kanda blinked. The girl was still staring at him intently, and he stared right back. Within those familiar eyes he saw something foreign. He couldn't exactly place his finger on it, and before he could figure anything out she pulled back, smiling.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?"

Kanda looked down, choosing not to reply. He was uneasy, due to the disturbing dream, feeling of foreboding and the presence of the girl. The girl looked at the man again with those large innocent eyes of hers. She cocked her head to one side, silently questioning him. She could sense his uneasiness. After several minutes of silence he observed the girl again. She was now perched at the edge of the bed, mahogany hair blocking his view of her face. He hadn't noticed before, but the girl was slightly pale, and her fingers were unconsciously tracing a heart shape repetitively over the same spot. Suddenly she slammed her hand on to the heart she had been tracing, her body leaning forward as the perspiration covered her lithe body. She stood up abruptly, making her way to the toilet as fast as her slender legs would carry her. As she tried to slam the door shut, a hand held it in place firmly. The girl whimpered, fear laced in her voice, as she desperately tried to close the door. She couldn't let Kanda see her like that.

"Don't… please. Let me close the door."

The simple plea almost made his hand let go, but he held on to it before yanking it back. There was something wrong with her, and he needed to know. He needed to protect her.

As the light streamed into the dark bathroom, he saw more and more of the girl the very thing he had hoped not to ever see. The girl, seeing that she could not close the door had backed up to the furthest wall, holding herself into a tight small ball position in the corner. He could hear her ragged breathing as perspiration slide down her body. As he approached, the sense of foreboding grew, from the light taps at his skull to a thudding at the pit of his stomach. Kanda reached up to flick on the lights, never allowing his gaze to leave the girl's frame. As light flooded the lavatory he saw the girl covering her bloodshot eyes. The Japanese male held firmly on to the girl's wrist, pulling her up firmly, but gently.

Sweat had soaked the whole of the white shirt, and through the thin cotton he could faintly make out dark shapes at her abdomen. And the shapes were moving. Moving. The girl looked at Kanda with an urgency and pleading. Tears welled up in her eyes, and then poured down her cheeks, no matter how hard she tried to keep them at bay. The only thing that was coursing through her mind was: he saw. He saw the disgusting part of her. He saw why even Komui was wary of her. He saw her in this pitiful state. He saw what had she hated most. He saw.

Through the blur of tears, she saw his sharp intake of breath and an expression she did not ever want to be painted on to his elegant features. A pained expression. Without a word, he let go of her wrist. She knew exactly what would happen next. He would leave. Leave her in writhing pathetically on the floor. Leave her life. Leave her forever.

But he didn't.

He took a step towards her, embracing her in his arms. The girl's eyes widened, her hands placed in an awkward position in front of her. She submitted to him. Her arms snuck round Kanda, and she buried her face into his white shirt, breathing in his unique scent. The light scent of the soap he used, the green tea he drank every day, the smell of the oil that he used to polish his only weapon, the Mugen. Slowly the girl's breathing calmed to the tempo at which he was stroking the brunette's soft hair. The young girl pulled back slightly, so that her voice would not be muffled by the white fabric.

"You don't hate me?"

The male sighed.

"Look at me."

She looked up obediently, patiently waiting for the answer to leave his lips. Her brown eyes no longer showed the raw fear, but purely curiosity.

"I don't hate you. I hate whatever's hurting you."

Kanda blinked. Had he just said that? The Japanese males faced burned up, as he recalled what he had just said. The girl laughed a tinkling of bells, before burying her head back into his shirt.

"Thank you… Yuu."

He smiled gently, all embarrassment momentarily forgotten, as he placed a warm hand on the top of her head.

"I can call you that, right?"

"What…?"

"Your first name."

"Oh."

His first name. It was only used by the ones closest to him, and supposedly with permission by him. It wasn't that Kanda Yuu wasn't close to the baka-usagi or General Tiedoll, but he hadn't exactly asked… and with the suffix "-chan". By the gods above, he was a full grown man, not some kid. Of course he would she could call her that. She was the closest person to him. She was the person who actually looked through the mask of the Japanese male. She was the one who had given him renewed energy to fight. He would have agreed on that any time. But something was stopping him from saying the word 'yes'. The image of the cold landscape he had seen flashed before him. The sense of foreboding.

He ignored it

And he would pay for it.

--

I believe this is my first author's note… whoa; it's kind of weird saying that I'm an author. So, I know I write chapters short, so I'll try to update every week, but it depends whether I have tests or homework or not… its still the start of the school year, so I'll be able to update more, but as the year goes on, I might be slower, or write without checking, so bear with me.

By the way, thanks to Ritsikas, Luna X Lavi, Lathya, Skitter, Watashi no Kare wa Alto and Memmi for reviewing!

Ore wa jibun no besto o yatemimsuyo~ ne? Do desuka?

Wo hui zhuo dao wo de zhui hao de! Kan ze ba!

KiMu~