The walls echoed with a solemnity that Kanda couldn't quite place. He tried hard to fight the feeling of nostalgia that rolled over him as he walked into the compound of what had been his childhood home. He hadn't come back here since the day that Alma had died. It was too painful, for one thing. He hadn't thought that he'd be able to handle the emotional burden this place had represented. Still, these walls still seemed to reverberate with the laughter that had occupied it once upon a time, though it was overshadowed by an all-encompassing feeling of hurt and betrayal. He felt as if he could still taste it in his mouth, that bitter regret. Even though it had seemed that his old friend had forgiven him, Kanda couldn't let go of that feeling that he'd done something that no one could ever pardon.
"Stop your daydreaming, babe, and get a move on. I haven't got all day." Kanda's reverie was shattered by Eve's voice bouncing along these walls, a synthetic sound that felt disjointed in this setting. Never in a million years would he have thought that he'd hear her voice out in this place. There was just too much of a clash, two converging paths of time colliding with each other. He half expected to see Alma run down the hall with a jar of stolen mayonnaise, getting ready to talk to the rest of the unborn Exorcists, even though Kanda knew that Alma, in his heart of hearts, had a feeling that these Exorcists would never wake up. To banish the memory, as well as the expectation, he snorted derisively at Eve's comment. He brought his thoughts forwards into the moment.
Eve's footsteps 'clop-clop-clop'ed inside of the broken stone room. This was the womb chamber, where all of the Exorcists that had been a part of the Second Exorcist fiasco had been kept before they were awakened. Kanda suddenly wondered just how many of those Exorcists had actually woken up before him, only to be killed because their former memories were beginning to present themselves. Kanda himself had random flashes of the person he was before, of that one man whose life had been brutally stolen along with his lover's. Kanda hadn't known him - no, not at all, though he possessed a good bit of all his memories, all the way back to childhood. Moments of dejavu would assail him whenever he walked somewhere his former self had walked, realizing that he was standing exactly where he'd stood. Even now, Kanda felt dejavu, but not for the reason of memories originating from a former persona. He'd stood here so many times, watching his fellow wombmates, hoping that one day he'd get another friend like Alma, even though he'd die before he admitted it...
Eve suddenly clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Kanda just about collapsed as his knees buckled. He winced, pain lancing through his joints. He was practically an old man! This was just embarrassing. He managed to keep his composure, though, and, better yet, keep from falling over. Eve sighed and said, "Well, good to be home, huh?" Kanda rolled his eyes. If home meant going back to the place where you'd killed your best friend, then yes. It was good to be home.
"Not exactly." Eve smirked, and she took a seat next to a womb tank, already taking down notes on paper with her well-sharpened pencil. Kanda ignored her and her studiousness by walking around her. The earthquake that had shattered China hardly months before had affected the compound as well. There were many, many cracks and fissures in the walls, some of the pillars close to buckling. The place was unstable, but Kanda figured that if it had held up for over thirty years, it'd survive another thirty more, earthquake or no. The place was eerie, though, at the moment, because it was night time, and only the torchlights were on. He caught the sight of a tarpauline over a bunch of equipment. The shimmering light from the Ark's gate had disappeared now that it was dispelled, and the dark gave the covered equipment a strange look, as if it were a hulking monster that was slumbering away an inky night inside of a dimly lit cave.
He felt a strange thrill of anticipation as he stared at the equipment. He didn't understand what it was, but there was a strange intuition in him that told him to pull back the tarp, to see what was underneath. It was a strange curiosity that couldn't be placed. All he could do was obey it and hope that this would satisfy it. He drew the tarp back in an undramatic motion, revealing some crates, several boxes of strange looking implements including a few he recognized such as surgical tools, as well as a gun box. He frowned as he looked at the gun box and looked back at Eve, who was saying something into a recorder.
"-1882, and I am Eve Rothschild, investigating case 112B. I am looking into a tank that is about four feet deep..." He looked back at the gun case. The container was hard, shiny metal. He frowned at it, though that wasn't much of a change from his normal expression. He reached over to it, and he flipped open both of the clips. They were ominously loud in the large room, the sound of Eve's voice muffled in comparison. He glanced over his shoulder momentarily before looking back over. Slowly, he turned back, looking at the case. He attempted to open it-
It caught as the lock on it prevented it from coming open. Kanda cursed under his breath before placing the clips back over them. Of course, there must be guns in the gun case, but what Kanda wanted to know was why they needed them. There was nothing under the compound, and there hadn't been any inhabitants for well over a decade. Kanda had a fleeting memory of her shooting him with her electricity gun, and he winced. Perhaps that was what was in the case. Then again, if that were so, why was it locked and why hadn't she laid it out already in case of emergency use? He shook his head. Perhaps he'd never know.
And suddenly, another memory assailed him. A shooting accident, it'd been called. Eve walking into the hospital with her shoulder bound up in gauze, blood leaking through it. She had been brisk and stiff, unyeilding as people asked what had happened. Her demeanor had been paranoid, slightly, and more than a bit cold. In fact, if anything, she'd been colder than usual. If anyone was an expert on leaving someone to freeze in a proverbial blizzard, it was Kanda. He hadn't realized that perhaps, just maybe, his doctor had something to hide. He figured it was something she hadn't wanted to talk about, more so because she'd been somewhere she wasn't supposed to be rather than an actual event that had happened.
Now, he was reconsidering. He'd never learned who had shot her. Perhaps that lawyer friend of hers had on accident? Or was it someone else? Who would want to shoot her in the first place? None of it added up. The gun couldn't be for protection - there was nothing to be protected from. Or was there? And if there was, who would it be that they needed protection from? Kanda's head suddenly whirled. He'd been locking his knees, and now the blood was pounding in his ears. He stepped away from the pile of crates, and he stumbled on the edge of the tarp, coming close to falling into one of the tanks.
Eve caught him deftly, her arms strangely comforting in their stiffness and strength. She helped him stand back up, and she said, "Your brain needs more and more oxygen these days, especially with your blood supply so low. Locking your knees is a bad idea. Why don't you sit?" She led him away from the crates, slowly lowering him into a sitting position on the ground. She took his hand in hers, and she professionally held his wrist between her thumb and first two fingers. Kanda watched her as she stared at her watch, and she announced, "Low blood pressure. Your heart must be acting up again." He sighed. Of course, it was always something. Never a moment of peace. He tried to get up, but Eve put a strong hand on his shoulder. Her eyes brooked no argument, and Kanda sullenly stared back.
"I'm fine," he stated.
"No, you're not," Eve replied evenly. She straightened back up, and she walked back to her seat. She pulled out her notepad and began writing a few more things down. Suddenly, Chaoji ran to her, carrying a mug of hot chocolate and several folders.
"Here, miss. I found these in one of the rooms. I-I'm not sure what they say, though... I, uh - "
"That's fine, Chaoji. Set them down near my bedroll. And give me the hot chocolate. This place is freezing." Chaoji, happy to oblige, handed her the mug and ran to the other end of the room where their bedrolls and mats were. Kanda frowned as he watched the man go, and he asked, "Why did you bring him again? And why the hell can't he read it? He's Chinese, and it's written in - "
"Chinese, yes, I know. He was a dock worker and sailor, wasn't he?" she asked, never looking up from her notepad. Kanda nodded. Then, like a lightbulb switching on and exploding, he realized what she was talking about.
"He probably can't read, can he?" he asked, his eyes flickering towards the other end of the room. The former sailor was already at the other end of the room, having found the walkway that ran between all the tanks. Kanda didn't mind saying this in front of him, but sometimes he could be just a little considerate. Eve sighed and stated, "That is most likely true. That, or this is beyond his reading level. Though, honestly, I don't blame him. Chinese isn't exactly an easy language." She looked down at Kanda, and she asked, "Do you read Chinese?"
Kanda scoffed. "Yes, I read Chinese. The Vatican didn't want little heathen experiments running around. They wanted educated heathens." Eve smirked at the quip. She continued writing, and Kanda finally felt well enough to stand again. He slowly got up, and he could swear he felt his joints grinding against each other like millstones. Finally, he straightened up, popping his back. For a few moments, his vision fuzzed over, and he had to stand still, but other than that he felt normal. Or, more accurately, what accounted for normal, which would be perpetual nausea and aching. Every step caused a jolt of irritation, and there was always something wrong with him somewhere.
Kanda sighed, and he said, "I'm going to for a walk." Eve nodded and fluttered her hand in his direction, a general sign of dismissal. Kanda hardly waited for it, immediately heading towards the middle aisle between the tanks set in the floor. Kanda looked in each, recreating the image of a sleeping Exorcist for every one. In his head, he could hear Alma calling them by name, saying hello, talking about mayonaisse. He shook his head, as if that would dislodge the voice of his dead friend. It wasn't so much that it was painful to think of Alma, and more that it was distracting him from what he'd originally wanted to chew over.
The samurai looked over at Eve, and he frowned, thinking back to the conversation he'd had with Lavi before the Bookman Junior could slip under the haze of drugs he'd been prescribed. Their conversation had been brief, but what was said had been heavy.
"So many gruesome pictures... Oh God, Kanda you wouldn't believe what was in that folder. It's linked to her somehow, and I think it's one of the reasons she's trying so hard to cure you."
"What makes you say that?"
"Haven't you noticed anything weird about her?"
"Hell yes, I've noticed."
"Like blood under her fingernails?"
"...Yeah."
"That's... that was something I saw on all those photoes. Bloody fingernails. Peeled off fingernails. Kanda... she's dying. And somehow, you and her have the same problem. She's using you as an excuse to find a cure for herself."
"Why the hell are you telling me all this?"
"Knowledge is power. You should know that, Yuu-chan."
The former Exorcist looked over his shoulder at the woman. She looked diligent, working on whatever was in her lap as she glanced back and forth between files. Kanda narrowed his eyes. He knew exactly what she was up to, but the problem was, there were still bits of the puzzle missing. Lavi had said that he'd found holes in her story, that she hadn't existed before age sixteen record-wise. From what he'd heard, she'd graduated early. She had above average intelligence, able to work out massive equations in her head quite easily, and that made her dangerous in Kanda's mind. Knowledge was power, and Eve was incredibly powerful.
He continued walking along the path, looking down towards Chaoji. Bookman was approaching from the side of the large room. When Kanda had reached their living area, he asked, "What next?" Chaoji looked up, surprised by Kanda's sudden appearance. The Chinese man stuttered, "I-I-I don't really know. I'm here more for the heavy lifting and such, and not so much for the science-y details... I needed out, see? Cabin fever in there, it's horrible." The sailor chuckled nervously, the bracelets on his wrist clinking as he rubbed the back of his head.
"I, uh, I think that there's a schedule for all this somewhere, I don't know where. She said we'd be back by the end of the month, said she'd be finished and she'd know all she needed," Chaoji reported, and he went back to lifting the large boxes of equipment and shifting them around to create walls of a sort between the bedrolls. A clever arrangement, Kanda noted. He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, looking around.
And, for a moment, everything seemed... normal.
"Kanda, you'll need your rest. We'll be exploring the compound for more rooms with any notes," he said, his voice gravelly. There was hardly a trace of the old man that had broken down at the window of a nearly-dying man. He was all business now, helping with records and the like, just as he'd been trained to do probably since he'd been able to walk. Kanda nodded, and he walked over to his own bed. He frowned, and he asked Chaoji, "Why is someone else's bed roll next to mine?" Chaoji looked up, and he grunted, "Well, doctor's orders. She wanted to be close to you just in case you happened to have seizures or something like that." Kanda sniffed derisively, thinking about how many times he'd had problems and she'd not been there. Of course, now she wanted to take care of him, when they were so close to whatever goal they were trying to achieve.
He lay down on took her bedroll, and he dumped it into one of the tanks that was filled with water. Chaoji and Bookman halted to watch it sink, the both of them slowly lifting their eyes to stare at Kanda. He returned the favor.
"I'm not a child. I can take care of myself. And she can fish out her own bed. Gives me time to actually sleep without being bothered every minute," Kanda said. He went back to his bed, and in moments, he was asleep, enclosed by low walls of crates and the sounds of the one place he'd once considered home.
Kanda woke up, his eyes flashing open.
"Brain... for it to work... they need a brain..." he muttered. He jolted up and out of bed, resisting his creaking joints and absurdly sharp pains as he ran out of the stacks of crates, his heart beating. How in hell where they going to actually recreate the project if they had no brain to work with? Were they just going to build their own? Or were they going to go and hijack some freshly dead Exorcist and use theirs for a recreation? Kanda realized that his stomach was turning at the thought of it as he slowed to a stop at what could be considered Eve's desk.
It was covered in papers written in Chinese and English, but what he really wanted to see were the blueprints. What were they going to do? There was no way they'd tell him what they would do in order to recreate the experiment, and he didn't trust them to tell him either. He flipped through all of the papers, looking for anything that had to do with the actual plans on recreating the experiment.
His eye caught on a specific Chinese character, and he realized it was the one for 'body'. He scanned over it, and he realized that he had a copy of the procedure that had created him. It was water-stained and beginning to turn yellow, but it was still legible. He flickered through it, realizing that this wouldn't help him at all. All of it was Greek to him, anyways, using terms he'd never heard of before, and he abandoned it for another file. He felt the air go out of him as he finally found something he was guessing had to be it.
His eyes scanned over it, but the nearly nonexistent light was causing his eyes strain, and the words started to blur. He put it down, rubbing his eyes. This wasn't going to help him. He needed a light. He turned around when he was suddenly blindsided by something hard and large. It took him a moment of disassociated thought to realize that it was a chair, and he felt a foot smash down on his stomach. He curled up in pain, coughing as his vision blurred again, the dim light making it hard to tell what was what. He was being attacked, but by who? What the hell was going on? There was something wrong -
Very suddenly, a flashing white pain hit him in the temple, and he screamed as he held his head. For several minutes it continued, building and building until every single sense was blocked out, and then, mercifully, it faded into an ache. He breathed in shakily, realizing that something very wet was trailing down his cheek over his nose. For a moment, he thought they were tears from the pain that had suddenly attacked his head, but the drops were too dark to be tears...
"Oh my god... Oh my god! Chaoji! Bookman! GET OVER HERE!" Kanda's vision spun again as he vaguely recognized the voice before finally blacking out.
