The Hidden Artist
Part Twenty-Nine: Want You, Want You Dead
"The Lord Earl of the Millennium would find it very convenient if you were to die, Allen Walker. You have something that belongs to him and he wants it back."
Those words, spoken so mercilessly as the sharp point of a switch blade poked into his side, echoed in the Brit's mind endlessly.
Someone wanted him dead.
Someone wanted him dead and he had no idea why or who it was.
The Lord Earl of the Millennium? Who the bloody hell was that?
For a good while after Kanda had pulled him from the hands of sure death, Allen had been unable to pull his mind out of the shock brought on by the situation. Even after having been brought to one of the safest places that the Brit could possibly think of, he still felt numb with shock. He could barely think.
When finally his mind had caught up to the situation, he was sitting on Kanda's couch, waiting for the Japanese man to reappear.
Someone wanted him dead and if they were so desperate as to attack in broad daylight, then there was no telling what they would do.
Allen looked up in alarm towards where Kanda had disappeared. That put everyone around him in danger. If this person, this Earl of the Millennium, wanted him dead, he or she likely didn't care about innocent bystanders.
Allen needed to find a way to keep this person from harming any of his friends. But how?
"Oi, Moyashi! How is your rib? Are you in any pain?"
First of all, it would be better not to involve any of them. It shouldn't be too hard, really. If he just kept them at a distance, show this Earl person that there were no bartering chips to be used against the Brit, he would leave everyone else alone.
"Oi! Pay attention!"
Keeping himself calm, Allen looked up at Kanda to respond.
"There is a little pain, but it's fine. I can deal with it."
It was a little true, but mostly not. Over the past few minutes, the pain had steadily begun to spread from small pinpricks of pain to deep throbbing pain and only showed signs of getting worse.
"Che. Answer when you're called, Moyashi."
For a few minutes, Kanda pestered him about taking pain medication, but Allen didn't really pay much attention. He just knew that he was denying the pills for some reason.
Truthfully, he really wanted to take the pills. He was in pain, but his mind was set on being stubborn. He wanted to keep Kanda at a distance. He couldn't let Kanda get involved, for fear of something happening to the man. Though, he was sure that Kanda could take care of himself, it really came down to a matter of..well, pride. He didn't want Kanda to have to worry and wanted to take care of it himself.
Allen really didn't know what it was that he could do, but at the very least he could find out why this Earl guy wanted him dead. And it wasn't like he wanted to go off and give himself over to this self-proclaimed Earl of the Millennium.
"I don't give a flying fuck what you think, Moyashi. Just fucking take them."
Oh...Was Kanda still on that tangent? The Brit had been caught up in his thoughts, and had momentarily forgotten about Kanda's presence.
"Fine."
Allen accepted the pill from Kanda and watched absently as Kanda went into the kitchen, presumably to get a glass of water. It was rather odd watching the Japanese man act this way; being a bloody asshole while running about trying to help Allen out. The Brit guessed it must have been odd for Kanda as well, as he was fairly sure that Kanda had never been this nice to anyone before.
The thought was oddly touching, even though Kanda was still being a stubborn wanker. However, that 'fairly' had a down side: He had only known Kanda for less than three months, so there was no telling how Kanda had treated anyone else before the Brit had moved to Canada and started working at The Hidden Artist.
But at least eighty percent of his mind figured that Kanda wasn't usually this openly concerned about others.
Allen was snapped out of his thoughts when Kanda came back with a glass of water. The British man popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed them, with some difficulty, with the cold water. He was surprised when he felt fingers moving against the buttons of his vest (reminding Allen that he had indeed been wearing a vest).
"What the bloody hell are you doing, Kanda?" Allen calmly asked, staring down at Kanda's fingers with slight alarm.
"I'm going to put salve on your arm, baka Moyashi. Damaged muscles don't heal in a day. Or did you think you were super-human or something?"
Allen felt himself being jostled somewhat roughly and got rather annoyed at the Japanese man's lack of gentle touch. Then again, when was Kanda ever gentle?
"Kanda! Try to be more careful, please. Bloody hell, you're going to rip my shirt!" he gasped.
"Your shirt? You're concerned about your damned shirt? How stupid are you?" Kanda demanded, giving Allen a rather scathing glare as he finished pulling off the shirt. The Brit felt his anger rise and burst.
"Forgive me, Sir Kanda! I happen to like this shirt! Never mind the fact that I have limited clothing right now! With the way you're going, I'm going to lose my entire wardrobe!" he snapped. Kanda started rubbing some sort of cold salve into the Brit's arm, long fingers massaging the muscle. It almost hurt, but there wasn't enough pressure. If it weren't for the sudden gleam in Kanda's eyes as he glanced up at Allen, the Brit would probably be mesmerized by the feeling of being touched by the Japanese man.
That gleam, however, was distracting in and of it's own right. Allen could read some form of perverse thought that made a blush want to form on his cheeks. That blush did come to life when Kanda spoke again.
"If that's the case, you can just stay here and not get run over by cars or mugged by a fucking weakling." Kanda almost purred, adding in some almost unnecessary insinuation.
Bloody closet pervert.
Resisting the urge to tackle the older man, Allen looked away to notice the little plastic jar sitting next to Kanda on the living room table. His stomach rumbled hungrily, alerting the Brit to the fact that he hadn't even had breakfast yet. Apparently, it was loud enough for Kanda to hear, who smirked faintly as he shook his head.
"Are you ever not hungry?" he quipped, making the Brit scowl.
"I haven't eaten since yesterday, BaKanda!" Allen shot back.
"What do you want to eat."
The question was a slight surprise, but then the Brit really thought about it. He really did like the way that Kanda cooked....
"Well, you cook really well, Kanda, better than I can, so would you mind making me something?" he asked, trying not to smile as he remembered the last meal Kanda had cooked for him. It had been delicious!
"Che, it's not as though I was about to take you out to eat, Moyashi. God knows you'd probably get hurt somehow. I'm not about to eat the slop that these restaurants sell, either." Kanda sniffed before heading into the kitchen. Allen watched with interest as Kanda put together two plates of food, two cups of tea and two bowls of soup. For some reason, it made him feel warm and happy.
Two of everything, just for us...And only us.
"Hurry up and get over here." Kanda ordered, seeming to notice Allen's gaze. Maybe. The Brit really couldn't tell. He grabbed his shirt from whereKanda had tossed it and began putting it on as he replied, "Sure, sure, hold on one second. Do you really want me to catch cold while going around shirtless?"
His sharp tone wasn't meant to offend, but he was a little embarrassed by his previous thoughts.
"It's not that cold, Moyashi. It's June." Kanda said patronizingly. Allen rolled his eyes.
"Yes, but we do live in the north. It can get cold." he shot back, sitting down before his plate. The dish looked a little familiar, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. Regardless, he trusted Kanda and picked up the chopsticks.
"It's not that cold in my fucking apartment, baka Moyashi."
It was quiet for a while as Allen dug into the noodles, listening to Kanda's strict instructions on how to eat it properly, the 'Japanese way.'
"What exactly is this, Kanda?" Allen finally asked, with only slight fear of ridicule from the older man. Kanda gave the Brit a suspicious look that held some confusion, as if the Japanese man could not quite believe that Allen didn't know what it was.
"It's soba."
"Really? Oh, I've heard of this before, but I have never had it!" Allen said, smiling somewhat happily.
"It's good. Did you make it all yourself?"
"I prepared it, didn't I?" Kanda sniffed, picking up some noodles.
"No, I mean, did you make the noodles yourself, the soup, all of that?"
"No...I didn't. But I know how to." Kanda replied cautiously, arching a dark eyebrow. He finished up his soba noodles and then drank the rest of the soup before placing his chopsticks carefully, neatly, onto the lip of the bowl. Allen watched the way his long fingers bent in what seemed an almost ritualistic fashion.
"Do you eat soba noodles a lot?" the Brit asked, having carefully observed the way that Kanda ate the soba.
Kanda made an affirmative noise before he carted his bowl, plate and tea cup off to the sink to wash them. Since the Brit had spent most of his time surreptitiously watching Kanda as he ate and listening to the instructions, he still had quite a bit left on his plate. Allen dug into this, relishing all the different, new flavors. Kanda was a good cook, at least when it came to Japanese food.
Yet another surprise about the man. He cooked well, though he only liked Japanese food and only cooked it; he was caring, but somehow managed to be a total wanker at the same time; he had a well-paying job as a security guard and as some sort of teacher at the university, but he never gave any details into either job. He was a disciplined man who was very intelligent and very athletic. Kanda would be almost perfect, were it not for his sour attitude. But, Allen knew; perfect didn't exist.
It wasn't as though Allen would have Kanda any other way, though. His sour attitude was what made getting close to him and being with him that much better. It showed that not very many people knew about the part of Kanda that actually cared, in spite of his behavior. The way that he kept secrets about himself made it that much better when Allen learned something new about the Japanese man.
Nothing about either of them was perfect, but that was just fine with Allen.
As Allen was finishing up his soba, Kanda's cell phone started ringing from his pants pocket, startling them both. The Brit was slightly amused at the expression of annoyance that came with the recognition of the ring tone. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and answered with slight irritation.
"What is it, old man?"
That must be Tiedoll.
Kanda was silent for a few seconds, listening to Tiedoll.
"Really. Well, then what is it."
He paced over to the table where Allen still sat quietly. Kanda didn't look at Allen, instead he looked into the living room.
"Yeah, he is." Kanda glanced over at Allen momentarily, then at the remainder of his soup pointedly. Allen took the hint and picked up his soup bowl to follow Kanda's previous motions.
"Now will you tell me, you geezer."
Kanda listened again for a while, pointing to the sink when Allen was done with his soup. The Brit picked up his dishes and moved over to the sink to wash them, as Kanda had with his dishes. Kanda made a few affirmative noises into the phone as Tiedoll spoke.
"What is this leader's name, then?"
Tiedoll responded with something that made Kanda start and jump up from his chair. He paced quickly over to the living room table to rifle through some papers.
"Earl of the Millennium, you said?"
Allen froze, dropping his tea cup to the floor. The resounding shatter made Kanda spin around to look straight at the Brit.
"It's fine. The Moyashi just dropped something." Kanda responded into the phone calmly. His sharp eyes were riveted on Allen's face, reading his expression with ease.
"You know that name, Moyashi?" the Japanese man asked away from the phone. Allen didn't say anything, his eyes flicking away from Kanda to various objects before down to the shattered tea cup, where liquid was spreading across the floor.
"Yeah, he does, apparently."
Allen flinched, knowing that that was spoken to Tiedoll. He began picking up the glass and setting it in one hand. When that hand was full, he turned to find the garbage can, which was on the other side of the refrigerator. He dropped the shards into the garbage and then went back to the puddle to pick up the rest. With that done, he grabbed a dish towel and wiped up the puddle.
He then washed the spot, trying to keep his mind off of Kanda's conversation.
The Earl of the Millennium?! Why the bloody hell did Kanda want to know that name?
Allen realized that this was actually a good opportunity, in spite of the unanswered questions.. If Kanda knew about this Earl of the Millennium, then he could tell Allen, answering some of those unanswered questions. Then, maybe he could figure out why this Earl wanted him dead.