The journey across the Middle-East towards China is long and arduous and mostly spent in a perpetual state of duress, between legitimate fears concerning the Earl's attacks and the threat to the Marshals and the significantly less legitimate fear of the sudden need to relocate and reunite with his wayward master. It has been more than a year since Cross disappeared on him and he hasn't heard a single thing from the man since, which could only have been considered as a blessing, but now the Order needs Allen to track him down, and, not only that, but to protect him, which involves watching his every move to make sure he doesn't sod off into thin air again. The first task is finding him to begin with, and Allen reluctantly finds most of his spare time between travel spent in any bars or establishments that he feels his master may have passed through in whatever travels of his own he is undertaking.

It has always been a mystery to Allen just what exactly it is that Cross does whenever he isn't pleasuring himself. In all the years he spent with the man he could never figure out what direction Cross was walking in, if he had any direction at all. There have been a few instances where Allen would be asked to stop by small, creepy stores tucked away in dark alleyways to purchase objects he was never allowed to look at by strange people who were usually more intimidating than not, and he only ever made the mistake of asking once, something he was not quick to forget. The man is a frustrating enigma, and Allen can only hope that he has shrivelled up and died in some far corner of the Earth by now.

The old man that had been with Komui had joined them on their trek eastward, and it becomes apparent within the first few days that he and Lavi have some kind of relation, as if Lavi often calling him 'gramps' is not indication enough. Lenalee helpfully explains that the man is referred to only as 'Bookman', and that he and Lavi are some special kind of historian that spend their lives travelling the world and documenting specific things. He isn't sure why Lavi had never mentioned his mentor or being of what she tells him is the 'bookman clan', but figures that it isn't exactly something that needs to be shared freely, and Allen has never asked.

As the days grow into weeks of traipsing across the continent and Allen grows steadily more hopeful that his master has died somewhere, Lenalee begins to get curious about the nature of the Marshal they are searching for, and it takes her a surprising total of fifteen days since leaving Spain to ask him about it. "Any word?" she asks him as he steps back through the door of their inn room, having just returned from searching any plausible places in town. He just shakes his head, sighs, and slumps down across one of the beds, staring up at the roof. She laughs at him, somehow cheery in his exhaustion. "Still no luck, then, I see. What is he like, anyway? The Marshal. I've been meaning to ask, since you never talk about him."

He frowns, sitting up to look at her, but there is only sincere curiosity in her expectant gaze, and he finds it hard to say no to that. "Cross is... many things," he says, unsure of where exactly to start. Begin with the bigger problems and work his way down to smaller ones, he thinks. "Everything always comes back to money with him. You can't spend more than five minutes with him without being asked for cash or forced to pay for something. It doesn't help that half of it is spent on his drinking problem and a constant supply of tobacco, and the other half is spent on whores."

"Whores?" she repeats, as though that is the most key point of the conversation.

"Yes, whores. Most of them end up paying him, though, through some kind of weird money-grubbing scheme he has going where he woos women into an apparent state of ineptitude in which they find themselves stupid enough to just give him things. It's like a magic trick, I don't know how he does it. If only he could use that kind of magic on everybody; it would have saved my hide a fair few times."

"Why is that, what happened to you?"

"Oh, many things, Lenalee," he scoffs, shaking his head. "Many, many things. You see, no matter how much cash he seemed gather from his various sources, it was somehow never quite enough for anything, and you do not want to see how mad some people can get when they're underpaid for services. I ended up paying most of his debts off myself, and I can only wonder how much more he has accumulated and waiting for me right now. There is never an end to that man's debts. It's like a mobius strip of poverty and labour."

She hums in thought, watching him like he's telling a story much more interesting than what is actually coming out of his mouth. She opens her mouth to ask a question, but then there is a knock at the door, and as she calls for them to enter Lavi clicks it open and pops his head in. "Is Allen about?" he asks, and Lenalee perks up.

"Yes, he's here," she says brightly, patting the bed next to her. "Come and sit, he's telling me about the Marshal."

Lavi's eye lights up, and he steps inside and clicks the door closed behind him. "I've got to hear this," he says with a grin that Allen feels wary of, walking over to sit beside Lenalee. "What sort of stuff about the Marshal?"

"About how he's a... How did you put it, Allen? A money-grubbing drunk womaniser."

Allen can't help a small, humoured snort at how well she'd summed it up. "That's about it," he mutters, linking his fingers and stretching his arms. "Cross in a nutshell, I'd say, stress on the nut. Though, while I'm loathe to admit it, I suppose I did learn some valuable skills from him."

"Like what?" Lenalee asks, and Allen nearly laughs at her innocence.

"Like how to avoid debt collectors, how to cheat at gambling, how to use charm and wit to get what you want out of people."

Lavi clicks his fingers, catching their attention. "Is that why you're so good at poker?" he asks, and Allen nods.

"It was one of the first things I learnt while travelling with him," he explains, thinking back on it. "I couldn't use my hand that well back then, you see, and Cross thought that cards might be a good way to exercise it, so he began teaching me poker and blackjack and a few other things. Next thing I knew, though, he was teaching me how to cheat, and I can't say it hasn't been useful over the years."

"That's kind of scary, though," Lavi mutters, watching him with a speculative eye. "You'd never expect that just by looking at you. Heck, I had no idea until I caught you playing back then."

"What happened then?" Lenalee asks, and Lavi grins.

"Oh, it was scary, let me tell you. I leave him alone for five minutes and come back to Allen sitting at a table with cards in his hands and a grin on his face, surrounded by naked men."

She snorts a laugh, covering her mouth to hold in her mirth, Allen frowning at his recount. "You make it sound a lot worse than it was."

"No, it was that bad, trust me. These things leave long-lasting impressions, Al."

"Oh my God," Lenalee breathes, "I so wish I was there to see that. But really, if you got some good skills from him, was it really so bad living with him?"

He stares at her blankly for a moment, then remembers that she doesn't know the horror that is the true Cross Marian. "He is not a pleasant man," he says lowly, frowning to himself. "The only reasons he would avoid ruining your life were if you were rich, a pretty woman, or both."

"I suppose Lenalee would be safe then," Lavi chides, nudging her gently in the side, and she gives him a gentle slap on the thigh despite the grin on her face. He pretends to look hurt for a moment, and then he seems to suddenly recollect something, looking back at Allen. "Oh yeah, I came here for a reason. Gramps wanted to see you."

"Me?" Allen asks, and Lavi nods, standing up, and then Allen finds himself being dragged from their room to the one next door where the two bookmen are staying. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room between Lavi and Bookman, unsure of what to do or why he is here, and then Bookman waves him over to sit on the bed opposite from him.

"How is your eye?" Bookman asks him as he crosses the room, perching hesitantly on the edge of the mattress.

"There hasn't been any changes," he replies in what has become his usual response to that question; it often answers any that would typically follow it.

Bookman simply nods, and Allen's eyes flick back to Lavi, who watches with an interested look from the other side of the room. "I've heard much about you within the Order," Bookman continues, and Allen is not surprised. "Though you can never be quite sure of what is true and what isn't. You are aware of Hevlaska's prophecy for you, yes?"

"Well, yes," he says slowly, trying to remember what he can of it, "But nobody has told me what exactly that prophecy is. All I know is that there is one."

Bookman's eyes narrow a little, then he glances over at Lavi where he stands against the door, and the younger bookman takes over. "Hevlaska gave a prophecy nearly a year ago now, as she often does, but this one was much clearer and seemingly more important than her previous ones. 'A boy of snow and a Mark of blood dwells with painted face beyond, a cross on his hand and a curse in his heart. He shall bring forth Destruction, and Destruction shall bring forth the New Age.' The first part would be obvious, I guess, but nobody is quite sure about the second."

Bookman gives a thoughtful hum, Allen's eyes drawn back to him as he speaks. "Many are hoping that you might know something that could shed a little more light on it," he says, his tone sounding strange on Allen's ears. He notices the way that Bookman says 'many', as though he himself isn't included, and wonders just how much these strange historians know.

"I'm sorry," he tells them sincerely, "But I'm afraid I don't. It's the first time I've heard that, and I've no idea what the second part means." It kind of worries him, if he's honest, though he isn't sure why. 'Destruction' seems to him like something that would do more harm than good, even if it will bring about a new age. He recalls something that Cross had said a long time ago, just after he had taken Allen in; He has seen death before, and he will soon see it again. He is sure there must have been more, but his memories of that period are hazy at best, what he can remember often slurred together in his mind. That's something else he's going to have to ask Cross if they ever find him.

Bookman has little else to ask him, questioning him briefly about his time at the Order up to now and what he knows about the demons, which is all things that he has explained many times before, and then he lets him go, leaving him on his own to think about this prophecy that has only know been told to him. He wonders why the Order has kept it from him for so long, humouring the thought that perhaps they had just forgotten that he didn't know, which seems likely given Bookman's wording of the question and the general disarray of the Order's superiors (see; Komui Lee). He figures that it's not particularly important right now, with much bigger fish in the sea, and puts it away to ponder over later.

China is much the same as he remembers it, with high mountains and wide, rolling countryside, bustling cities placed intermittently between. Allen is the only one among their group that doesn't know the language, as he is quick to discover, so he sticks close to either Lenalee or Lavi during their travels and is at least glad that he has been here before and knows what the people can be like, in the chance that he might find himself on his own. They make it to Shanghai with no mishaps however, for which he is glad, the sun just beginning to set and the smell of the ocean coming thin through the mixed and heavy scents of the city as they pass through it to where Marshal Tiedoll had said to meet them that morning. He suddenly finds himself nervous, this close to an advancement in their journey and three new people he has to meet, but as they get closer Lenalee seems to notice his apprehension and takes his hand briefly in hers as they walk, squeezing it before she lets him go again, and as he glances across at her she gives him a calming smile.

The first thing he recognises among the group is Kanda, sitting on the ledge of the stone steps with a brooding expression on his face, and then Allen's eyes are drawn to the two older men with him, both bearing the uniform of Apostles. Lenalee brightens up as she sees them, she and Lavi stepping forward to greet them with warm smiles and firm handshakes and a few pats on the shoulders while Allen stands back with Bookman and watches. He briefly catches Kanda's eyes as he rises to his feet, an expression flickering across his face that Allen doesn't have time to place before it is gone again and he is left simply to wonder.

Lenalee beckons him over amidst the conversation and he steps forward to stand by her, taking in the two men before him in a glance; they both seem like warm and friendly people, and he lets himself humour the thought of what it would have been like for them to travel across the world with the dark and grouchy Kanda. "This is Allen," Lenalee is telling them, seeming happy to be doing introductions. "Allen, this is Noise Marie and Marshal Tiedoll."

"It's a pleasure to finally be able to meet you," the Marshal says, holding out his hand, worn from age and use, and Allen takes it in his own.

"Likewise," he responds with a smile, then moves to shake Marie's outstretched hand as well, but Marie gently takes his hand and turns it over so that the palm faces upward, running his thumb smoothly over the surface of Allen's glove, then lets him go. Allen looks from his hand up to Marie's face, a little taken aback, but he soon finds his explanation in Marie's gentle and slightly misdirected smile and the eyes that he keeps resolutely closed.

He jumps a little as Lavi suddenly rests his arm over Allen's shoulder, leaning on him with a bemused look on his face. "I thought Daisya was with you too," he muses, and Allen feels them both tense, the air somehow becoming still, a glance behind them proving that Kanda had heard as well, from the way he narrows his eyes and focuses heavily on something in the distance.

Tiedoll clears his throat, and it's easy to tell what is going to follow. "We were caught in a battle in Mongolia," he explains gently, a sad smile across his lips. "It's likely that a Noah was involved, and Daisya, bless his soul, didn't make it."

Lenalee places a hand lightly against her mouth, looking down with a dark expression in her eyes, and there is a long pause that follows. "What makes you think it was the Noah?" Bookman asks suddenly, finally breaking the silence.

"Have you heard of the other two Apostles that have been killed?"

"Yeah, Chalker and Kazana, right?" Lavi pipes up, stepping away from Allen with a thoughtful expression. Allen remembers the phone call they had with Komui some days ago when this information had come to light, the expressions on their faces. "Weren't they suspected of being killed by Noah because they both had organs missing?"

Tiedoll nods, scratching his stubble in thought. "Daisya was the same. No external injuries, no signs of entry, but his lungs were clearly torn clean from his chest. No demon has the ability to do that, and a couple of footstaff claim to have seen a man that matches the description of the one you were tracking before this."

The one that most likely killed the Marshal, Allen thinks sourly, and finds that he is growing to hate the Noah more and more. That's four Apostles that he knows of that have been killed by Noah in the past month or so alone, coupled with the attack that Road had made on he and Kanda. Even if they aren't demons, he needs to defeat them regardless, otherwise more Apostles and more people are likely to die; anticipation and dread sink in his gut in a sickening mixture at the thought of finding one of them, of having to fight them. He is at least going to make sure he's better prepared this time.

They are quick to move off of the topic and on to more imperative matters, such as the current task at hand. Tiedoll explains that they were going to continue heading East, to Korea and then Japan, and they all agree that it's as good a plan as any, so they wander through the city to find a place to stay the night and then head out early the next morning. They manage to find a tavern with enough spare rooms where they settle their things and then split up on a quest to find dinner, most of them choosing to simply eat at the tavern, but Allen feels as though he should fully embrace the cultural experience, and Lavi and Lenalee join him as he wanders through the bustling streets to gawp at vendors and shop fronts and stalls lining cramped alleys and carts by the roadside. They end up buying a few different things from various places, stuffed in paper bags and carried in their arms to munch on as they wander about the city, enjoying the sights that a late night in Shanghai brings.

He has been to this part of town before, he remembers, perhaps more than once; it stands out fairly vividly in his mind, so it can't have been somewhere that he only just passed through, as is usually the case with places he remembers. Cross seems to have rather liked Shanghai, and it only now occurs to him that there is high chance that he may have crossed through here recently. Their wandering brings them to a district that Allen remembers well, namely from a mishap or two that occurred that he is quick to try and forget again, instead focusing on the streets, the buildings, looking for anything he may recognise that stands out among the others. It is not long before he spots a place that he remembers more clearly, and he pauses in front of it, considering whether or not he'll risk going in. "Allen?" Lenalee asks behind him, wondering why he had stopped, "What's wrong?"

"Hold this for a second please," he says, handing her his bag of food, and then he disappears within the building before she can ask further.

Lavi blinks, a little taken aback by what had just happened. "Did... Did Allen just walk into a brothel?" he asks slowly, humour touching his voice, and Lenalee stifles a laugh.

"I wonder if he knows?" she muses, and Lavi just shrugs, as much at a loss as she is.

Allen returns hardly a minute or two later, a sheet of paper clasped in his hand as he waves to someone within the building, jogging down the front step and back over to the two of them. "Look," he says proudly, holding up the sheet of paper, Mandarin written in neat print across it, "I got directions to a place that probably knows something about my Master."

"Wow," Lavi mutters, taking it from him to read over it. "And here I thought you were actually more of a man than you seemed."

Allen huffs, taking his things back from Lenalee with a thankful nod. "I am a man," he says petulantly, then adds, "And even then, I wouldn't go looking in a place like that."

"Allen, you're only sixteen."

"A good age for women, Cross says. Though he probably meant the women themselves. Anyway, come on, we should get this done tonight while we're here. Can you read it?"

Lavi goes about deciphering the note for them, but there are a few characters he doesn't recognise that trip him up, so he ends up passing it to Lenalee who directs them to another place only a few streets away from the docks, a much grander building than the one they had just been at. "A woman named Anita, this says," Lenalee tells them, handing the note back to Allen. "Do you really think she knows something about the Marshal?"

"The woman I spoke to seems to think so. Apparently somebody who looks sort of like him passed through within the last couple of months –hard to miss, thankfully for us right now– and he apparently comes here a lot. I think I may have been here once before, actually, though I didn't go inside."

"Man, he dragged you all sorts of places, huh?" Lavi teases gently, and Allen makes a face at him. "Go on then, give them a knock."

"That doesn't sound right considering where we're standing," he mutters, but he steps up to the door, taking a deep breath, then gives the rough wood a couple of hard knocks. He steps back as they wait, and then the door is pulled open to reveal a woman at least three times his size, towering over him and looking down with ice in her eyes. Allen tries his best not to fidget under her gaze, and she says something in Mandarin, sounding like a question. "Um, excuse me," he says quietly, clearing his throat and trying to reassert himself. "Uh, we're looking for a woman na-"

She cuts him off a single, sharp laugh that makes him cringe, crossing her arms and almost smiling at him. "A woman?" she says, thankfully in English. He notices her eyes flick down to his chest for a moment, something flickering in her eyes. "We do not have women for the likes of little boys."

He tries to ignore that comment and focus on the task at hand. "No, you see, we're looking for miss Anita, I was told she-"

The woman suddenly grabs him by the collar of his jacket, hoisting him up with a few startled yelps among them, most coming from Allen. She brings his face close to hers, glowering directly into his eyes, and he suddenly feels as though this was a very, very bad idea, anything relating to Cross is always bad news and he should have known that, he shouldn't have come here at all. "Back entrance," she breathes lowly, and he blinks, but before he can gather any more she puts him back down and slams the door in their faces.

"Well, that was a waste of time," Lavi says after a moment, patting Allen down. "Did she hurt you?"

"No, no," he assures, dusting himself off, "But I think this may be what we've been looking for after all."

They both follow him around to the back of the building, where another (slightly less) intimidating woman stands guard by the single, unassuming door there. She eyes them all strangely, and then the first woman opens the door from within the building, murmuring something to the guard before ushering them in. He doesn't hesitate in fear of wasting their time and steps inside, Lavi and Lenalee close behind as they follow the woman through the halls and up a couple of flights of stairs. The building smells of incense and some kind of flower, masking the scent that he is sure it would otherwise carry. "Do not be alarmed," she tells them after a long silence, almost startling him again. "We know who you are, and we are on your side. I am Mahoja." She pauses only to flick them a small smile, then continues across the third floor, much more exuberantly laid out than the last two had been. This is clearly somewhere very expensive, Allen thinks, and figures that's just like Cross. If he's been anywhere, it would have been here.

Mahoja leads them to a set of wide double-doors, flowers carved into the red wood in neatly painted gold, pushing them open with a practised air of ceremony. All three of them have to hold back gasps as they step in, taking in the astounding beauty of the room; the walls are covered with wallpaper in soft colours and floral patterns, a couple of pillars placed evenly around the wide room with carvings in the smooth marble surface, and in the centre sits an exquisitely dressed woman among pillows and silks, watching them with a gentle smile. He hears Lavi mutter something behind him. "Welcome, Apostles," the woman says, and Allen suddenly understands why Cross has frequented this place so often. She gives a nod to Mahoja, who bows before stepping outside, closing the doors behind her. "It is my understanding that you have been looking for me?"

Allen has to swallow before he speaks, remembering what they'd come here for. "Yes, um. I take it you're miss Anita?" he asks, just to be sure, and she nods. "Me and my friends are looking for someone, and we've heard that you might know where he is. Have you ever met Cross Marian?"

Bingo, he thinks, watching as her eyes widen in recognition. "You are looking for Marian?" she asks, and her tone makes him uneasy; it sounds as though bad news is about to follow it, and he hates when bad news follows mentions of Cross. "I am... afraid he is not here. He came here nearly two months ago, but he left on a boat for Japan a week later."

Why would Cross be going to Japan? While Allen was with him Cross never once even mentioned Japan, even in all their travels across virtually every other country, so why now? "Do you know why he was heading there?" he asks her, hoping that this information isn't all there is to this endeavour.

She shakes her head, placing a hand thoughtfully to her painted lips. "No, he never told me. But you will not find him there."

This confuses him, and he glances back at his two friends, who both seem about as perplexed as he is. "And why is that?"

"The ship that Marian took, it was... attacked, I heard, though I am not sure by what. I received word some weeks ago of it having sunk, with no found survivors."

He hears Lenalee take a breath behind him, and he feels his own heart sink, but he doesn't allow it to; if there is one thing Cross is good at, it's disappearing. "I'm sure he's still alive," he says firmly, and they all look at him, wide-eyed. "I know him, and unless you find a body, there's no way he's actually dead. I'm sure he made it to Japan for whatever he was planning to do there."

Anita looks almost relieved, but she's hesitant about it, as though she isn't sure she should believe it or not. Hearing something like that from a man like himself, though, Allen can understand her apprehension. "You believe so?" she asks quietly, and he nods.

"We're going to go to Japan, and we're going to find him, whether he wants us to or not. Rest assured, we'll find him alive."

She breathes a gentle sigh of relief, delicately wiping away the mist that had begun to fill her eyes. "I will believe you," she tells them, "And trust you to find him. I have a ship currently in the docks, and I will tell my men to prepare. Please, take it to Japan. It is the least I can do."

He blinks, at first wondering why she would have her own ship, and then wondering why she is allowing them to use it, especially when one heading out there has already been attacked. "Are you sure?" he asks incredulously, taken aback. "I mean, for us to use your ship, it's... it's too much."

"Not to mention that it's dangerous out there," Lavi adds behind him, apparently having been on much the same train of thought, "Especially for us. If Cross' ship was attacked, there's a high chance that they'll try and get us too. If we're on your ship, that makes it a target."

"I am aware of the risks," Anita says, "And I am prepared to take them. My family has been supporters of the Black Order since its founding days, and has even fallen victim to the demons in the past. I know what they can do, as do my men. Sometimes, Apostles, risks must be taken in order to surpass them."

He knows that look in her eyes; it is one that he has seen many times before, a look of will and determination. There is nothing more they can say that could deter her, and he has to admit that use of a ship is ample opportunity. "Thank you," he says, as sincerely as he can, giving her a bow. "We're in your debt for this."

She simply smiles at them, as though they are the ones doing her a favour, and Allen hopes that he can actually keep his word. She asks them all to wait downstairs as she sorts some final things out before they go, so they head back down to the rear door of the establishment to wait until Mahoja steps out to give them a sheet of paper with directions to where Anita's ship is docked, explaining that the crew will be ready the day after tomorrow. "We wish you luck," she tells them all, shaking each of their hands in turn, and they thank her and Anita again before beginning to make their way back to the inn.

"Do you really believe that?" Lavi asks after the long silence that had followed them through the streets, and Allen looks up at him, confused. "That the Marshal is alive, I mean. Do you believe it, or were you just saying that?"

Lenalee seems just as curious, watching Allen with a careful eye, and he wonders if he hadn't shown enough conviction. "There's no way that he died out there," he says quietly, a despondent smile crossing his lips. "It takes much more than that to kill him. Besides, I believe that he may have been headed there for a reason, and if he has a goal, he's virtually unstoppable. He's alive."

"Why do you believe that so strongly?" Lenalee asks, genuinely curious about his thoughts. "You seem to think that he can't die."

"Oh, I know he can die. He's still human, despite how demonic he can be. I just know how hard it is to kill him; if there was anything that could kill him that easily, then we'd probably all be in trouble."

Little else is said over the short trip back to the inn, and to their surprise they find Tiedoll and Marie sitting on the street just outside the building, a drawing board in the Marshal's hands and charcoal all over his fingers. Marie mutters something to him as they step up, and Tiedoll looks up at them, smiling. "Oh, you're back!" he exclaims, as though they had been gone days rather than hours. "Where have you three been?"

"Finding Cross," Allen says proudly, holding up the written note from Anita, and they both look at him in surprise. "He's somewhere in Japan. There's a private ship that's going to be ready to take us there the day after tomorrow."

Tiedoll blinks owlishly behind his thick frames, sitting back and looking over the three of them curiously. "Well," he says, giving them a warm smile, "Then I suppose we're going to Japan."

They spend the next day making sure they have everything they'd need before setting out the following morning, checking supplies and tying up any loose ends and informing headquarters of the situation. Komui seems glad that they finally have a lead on Cross, but warns them all to be careful; "Japan has been closed off for centuries," he explains, "There's no telling what may be waiting there." Allen is not the only one who has a bad feeling about this, it seems, as even the easy-going Lavi often has a strangely thoughtful look on his face and spends more time working with Bookman than he had previously been doing. Fear sits ample in all of them, but if it's a step forward, they have no choice but to take it. He just hopes that they are actually able to find Cross and bring him back with minimal disruptions, but he knows that their luck is not that great.

The ship is much larger and more grand than he had been expecting, neatly kept and polished and seeming far too expensive for a few worn Apostles to take into dangerous waters. The crew greet them all with cheers and handshakes and a lot of patting on the back, boisterous voices to go with boisterous smiles and loud personalities. "As you would expect from sailors," Lavi says, seeming much at ease with the environment and perhaps even getting a little swept up in the vigour. At least most of their group seem to get along well enough with the crew, considering the time that they will be stuck on a boat together. They set sail almost as soon as everything is loaded, and while Allen has been on many a boat before, especially in his time at the Order, watching the coast of Shanghai draw away and the ocean grow larger around them feels somehow definitive, heavy, like a milestone in the tangled mess his life has become. Perhaps it is the knowledge that this trip will lead them to Cross, finally and yet too soon, the thought of what lies for them at the other side heavy in his mind.

Most of the boats he has sailed on recently have been only short trips, a day or so at most, and he has forgotten what it is like to be at sea for days on end, nothing around him but the ocean crashing in his ears and the salt air in his lungs. The ocean has always been calming to him, and he has never been sure why; he had only seen it once before he began travelling with Cross, yet it has always felt somehow nostalgic. It especially helps when his eye begins to act out, as it seems to be doing more often these days, in which case he would sit up on deck and close his eyes and listen to the waves lap at the ship until it passes. Lenalee often sits with him during these times, as he imagines Lavi would if he weren't so occupied with learning every inch of the ship, sometimes chatting with him as they watch the skies pass by overhead or the ocean tumble beneath them, but most often she is silent, a warm presence beside him, and he can never really find the words to express his gratitude.

"Kanda loves the ocean, too," she tells him one time, just as the pain in his skull is beginning to ebb away. He looks over to where she sits beside him, their backs against the edge of the deck, a smile on her face as she watches the clouds. "Which is funny, considering he can't swim." Ironic, Allen thinks, a man who commands water being unable to swim, but then he remembers the way Kanda looks when it rains, the harsh spark in his eyes dimming enough to be almost calm.

"I haven't seen him around much," he muses aloud, the little he has seen of Kanda since they left China being only brief encounters and the wordless nights in their cabin room, Lavi enough to fill the space between them. There is something about the look in Kanda's eyes whenever they fall on him that makes him feel guilty of something, though he isn't sure what it could be. "I think he might be trying to avoid me."

Lenalee gives a thoughtful hum, playing absently with the sleeve of her jacket as she thinks. "Well, considering your run of bad luck with him, I wouldn't be surprised if he was," she says, giving him something of an apologetic smile. "You two haven't exactly hit it off."

She's right, he knows; the most cordial Kanda has ever been with him was between when they met and when they first fought demons together. It's been nothing but trouble whenever they are left alone together since, and he can't help feeling somehow responsible. "I suppose so," he replies, absently massaging the muscles around his eye. "I guess he's still mad at me."

"He feels guilty," somebody says beside them, and they both look up to find Marie walking up to stand beside them, giving them both smiles. "It's part of our job to look out for other Apostles, to keep them safe, and he failed to do that. In my opinion, I'm sure it was something that likely could not have been prevented, but Kanda is a little harder to persuade. He blames himself for what happened to you."

Allen is hesitant to believe that, especially with the way Kanda treats him, but Marie's words replay themselves in his mind, and the next time he sees Kanda, registers the emotion in the careful hardness of his eyes, it begins to make sense. Kanda devotes himself to the job, as Lavi had told him all those months ago, and failing in that job must bother him more than Allen had assumed it would. He is reminded, once again, of just how little he understands.

There is a night where he dreams of a town in the south, pale sandstone houses lining cobbled streets with the sky vast and blue above him. There is no breeze here, yet he can still feel the wind in his hair, picking its way between his bare fingers. It feels like home, and he closes his eyes, lets it whisper in his mind. Something flutters by his ear and his eyes snap open, something black floating past him, and as he turns to follow it he realises that it is a butterfly, one that should not belong here. It leads his eyes to the man that stands watching him, impeccably dressed with an easy smile on their dark lips. "Boy," he says, the butterfly landing like an ornament on the brim of his hat. He steps forward in slow, languid steps, picking the cigarette from his lips and tossing it aside. "How would you like to die?"

Before Allen can speak there is something in his chest, and at first he thinks it is fear, cold and smoky inside him, but the fear rises separately, lower in his gut, and he looks down to find a hand in his chest. He can feel it as it moves seamlessly through his insides, passing through him like a ghost, fingers closing around his heart like icy tendrils. "No," he breathes, tearing his eyes from the arm in his chest to lay on the eyes like gold before him. "You can't. Not now."

The man smiles, and his breath catches in his throat as the fingers touch the pulsing muscle of his heart, beating erratically within his grip. "Good night," he says, and Allen watches as his heart is torn clean from his chest.

He wakes up hot and dizzy, gasping in the stifling air of the cabin as he sits up. His heart thumps in his chest and he takes comfort in the feeling of it, taking a moment to just breathe, and it is not until he feel something around his hand that he realises somebody is there. "Jesus," Lavi breathes, keeping his voice low. He takes his hand away, holding both of them up. "It's just me, Allen, relax. You alright?"

The adrenaline is already beginning to wear off, at least. He swallows, glancing around in the gloom, the moonlight filtering through the window to his left and Kanda still sleeping to his right. "Um. Yes, I'm sorry, I didn't-" He cuts off as pain surges in his head, his eye giving him its full wrath after the stress of the dream, and he hisses through his teeth as he presses his palm into it, hoping to dull it, wondering why it is so harsh now.

Lavi mutters a curse, putting a hand gently on his shoulder. "Al?" he says quietly, seeming unsure of what to do as Allen doubles over. "Deep breaths, buddy, try and relax."

"Outside," he grinds out, and thankfully Lavi understands, helping him up and out of the cabin, supporting him as they head up to the deck where Allen slouches down just beside the door, Lavi sitting tentatively beside him. He focuses on breathing, trying to will the pain away, and when that doesn't work he casts his mind to the ocean, the waves against the ship and the wind biting at his bare skin. It is quiet as the heat in his skull begins to subside, dimming enough that he is able to think straight, and he eventually brings himself to speak. "I'm sorry, Lavi," is the first thing he says, incurring a curious green eye. "I didn't mean to bother you."

Lavi simply scoffs, a small smile on his face. "No bother, Al, no bother. It seemed like you were dreaming something nasty, though, are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes," he replies slowly, his fingers curling in his hair where his hand covers his eye, "Yes, I'm fine. It was... a little jarring, sure, but it's fine." He can't shake the feeling that he knows that man from somewhere, though, but he is currently unable to place where from. Perhaps it will come to him once he's calmed down and has a clearer mind. Lavi makes a thoughtful noise beside him, but stays quiet, a long silence stretching over them before he speaks again.

"More importantly, I suppose," he begins, and Allen glances over to him, concerned about what will follow. "Your eye has been getting worse lately, hasn't it? Have you had it looked at recently?"

Allen frowns, averting his eyes as he sighs. "No," he concedes, "Not since we left headquarters. It hasn't really been a problem up to now."

Lavi gives him an unimpressed noise, then rocks to his feet, Allen watching as he stretches his back. "You should get Bookman to take a look at it in the morning, see if it's anything we can fix. Are you going to head back in, or are you staying out here?"

"I think I'll stay here for a while," he replies, and Lavi gives him a curious look before shrugging.

"Alright, well I'm going to go back to bed. I hope we didn't wake up Yū, that could be nasty." Allen watches him as he steps back inside, the door clicking quietly shut behind him, before he casts his eyes back out in front of him, the boat stretching open before him and the sky stretching even further. He is nervous, now, much moreso than he had been; he can't help feeling as though he is receiving some kind of warning, his body telling him to turn back where his conscious mind knows he cannot. There is something waiting for them that could be worse than anything they've faced before, and he's not sure how he knows it.

He's not the only one who is nervous, at least; all the others are as well, writ into their faces as they gather on the deck to watch the shores of Japan creep closer on the horizon. Most of them are thoughtful in their expressions, trying to imagine what lies in wait, but there are exceptions to this; Lavi who looks strangely ill, knuckles white where they grasp the banister, Kanda who watches the land grow larger with determination, as though he is prepared to fight the very island itself, Lenalee with concern and apprehension in her features and her eyes often casting over the people around her. Allen's eye aches beneath its covering, and he briefly touches his fingers to it in what is fast becoming habit.

The docks are empty when they finally moor the ship, the few other boats around them sitting dusty and unused in the water and the town before them eerily void of any movement. The crew say that they're going to stay by the docks, to stock up and prepare the ship for when they'll next need it, and after much discussion with the captain it is decided that the Apostles will go ahead, so they find themselves walking through the city with tension thick between them, expecting demons at any moment; the place is too empty, too void. "Maybe it's abandoned," Lenalee offers, but it wouldn't make sense for it to be. Aside from the boats in the harbour everything else is too clean and fresh, as though the town's occupants had simply left for a day trip.

"Or maybe it's a ghost town," Tiedoll replies, seeming far too peppy for the current mood, and proceeds to go on a tangent about how plausible it would be for the city to be inhabited by ghosts while Lenalee shares her own opinions on how that could work and Kanda rolls his eyes behind them. At first Allen finds the topic of conversation inappropriate in their situation, then remembers what these people have been through, what they have learned. Appreciate the small things, Lavi had told him. He glances behind him to where Lavi and Bookman keep pace, muttering quietly to each other while Lavi looks about ready to throw up. Maybe he is just less adjusted to sailing than Allen had thought.

They stop once they reach the edge of town a few hours later, hills and trees sprawling out before them, and they decide that now is as good a time as any to talk seriously about the predicament. They settle themselves on the pavement in the closed space between a couple of buildings right on the edge of the city, keeping themselves hidden from view as they try to think of their next course of action. "Since there's nobody here," Lenalee begins thoughtfully, "Then I suppose we'd have to move on to the next town to try and see if we can find the Marshal, right?"

"That would seem to be the most obvious course of action," Tiedoll agrees, leaning back against the wall of the building. "I doubt we'll find any clues here, in any case."

"There is high chance that we're stepping into a trap," Marie states, and Tiedoll gives a thoughtful hum.

Allen unwittingly tunes them out, preoccupied with the steadily rising ache in his skull. It is not a sharp wave like he has been getting in the past, one that passes within ten minutes and leaves him be; ever since they came into sight of Japan it has been low and constant, like an old scar, slowly growing in intensity until it has become just as bad as the waves were, and it makes no sign of ever planning to lessen. "Allen?" he hears, and he snaps back to attention, finding that most of their eyes are on him, Lenalee's especially. "Are you alright?" she asks, reaching a hand up to touch his where he presses his fist into his eye, and he instinctually pulls back from her.

"Yes," he tells her, taking her hand in his free one and bringing it down, "I'm alright. I just got distracted, I'm sorry."

She huffs, unwilling to let it go. "Don't be like that," she says quietly, frowning at him. "If it hurts, you shouldn't be afraid to say so."

"Lenalee, really, I'm-"

"Found you," somebody sings in his mind, and he glances down just as the ground opens up beneath him and swallows him whole.