Chapter 36

Leverrier said, "This book describes a method through which the Priestess of the day can extract Dark Matter and transfer it into a willing soldier. It will be far faster and more efficient than the methods used in Central's experiments thus far."

Tiedoll cleared his throat. "I'm not sure that's wise, Inspector."

Leverrier turned his frowning visage towards the general. "Oh? And why is that so?"

"It's not right. It's just not the right thing to do, believe me, Inspector Leverrier."

"I agree, Inspector," Komui said, standing. "Please, we cannot repeat this–"

"No," Leverrier said. "This is the way forward."

Bak stood up too. He was quivering down to the last muscle on his body – whether with rage or desperate anticipation, he did not know. "My parents died the last time we tried to experiment," he said, nails digging into his palms. "And now Madarao and the other Thirds are beyond help. We don't have to destroy more lives!"

"And how do you propose we fight, hmm? No answer, eh? Leave strategy and ethics to your superiors, Chief Bak."

Reever pulled Bak back down onto his seat. "No, no, don't – he's trying to goad you!"

Reluctantly, Bak forced his trembling hands downwards.

"Inspector," General Nyne said, "I agree with Komui and Froi. Marian is not here. We should ask his opinion…. He knows more about such things than any of us here right now."

"He is the expert, true," Leverrier said, "But like I said, we have no choice."

"The Priestess might object," Komui said. "She is unlikely to condone this…"

General Nyne nodded in agreement.

Leverrier said, "I have thought of why it shall suit Allen Walker to help us. As you all know, she has been branded a traitor by dint of her adoptive relations. The Fourteenth Noah was her uncle. By the King's grace she remains free and unfettered–"

"If Link is not a fetter then I don't know what a fetter is!"

"I've heard quite enough from you, Bak." There was anger in Leverrier's eyes, but he did not let it touch his voice. "Do shut up. When Allen Walker returns, she shall prove her loyalty to the Order and to her country by assisting with the project. That is all."

"But –"

"No, Komui, I do not want to hear your objections. This is a briefing and not a discussion session."

"And how do you know the soldiers won't become invalids in a matter of months? That scope of cruelty is quite unnecessary, Inspector," Tiedoll said. "We should keep our men strong and able to fight, and that can be done by keeping them where they belong in the various battalions."

"We neglected to include a protective spell with this current test batch," Leverrier said. "Renny will not forget it a second time. And… with Allen Walker's help, I foresee only success for our plan."

"But–"

"That is all for today," Leverrier said, gesturing to the soldier at the door. "Please take your leave, ladies and gentlemen."

"I don't believe this," Reever said as soon as they reached the end of the corridor. He massaged his temples. "Why does he do this all the time? Spring things on us? Why does he have so many ideas, and why are they all workable even though they're so misguided?"

Bak sighed. "I knew she was up to something…"

Reever fixed Bak with a clear eye. "Yes, and you did what you could by warning Komui. But we all know Leverrier likes to override Komui's decisions… not that he lacks the power to do so."

Tiedoll joined them. "Perhaps there may be a way out. Marian might have a way…"

"I doubt so," Komui said. "The Inspector seems very unshakeable this time."

Bak wrung his hands. "I told Renny – I told her not to do it – but she – oh for chrissake, why do things always go this way? Why do our opinions never count?"

"We're nothing to him," Komui said, fists clenched at his sides. "We have to think of something…"

Allen returned to the city to much fanfare. Komui had caused a canopy to be put up at the gate, and the freemen and women of the city lined the main road to the Citadel, brandishing herbs and crucifixes galore, asking to be blessed.

Allen obliged as much as she could, but even the children far away on the ground could see her tired eyes and bloated skin, and felt sorry for her weariness. When at last Allen looked ready to fall from her saddle, Kanda signalled to the guards, and the procession increased its speed homeward.

"You look terrible," Kanda said, as he helped Allen down from her horse.

Allen glared at Kanda. "Well. You still look fine. Why is it that you always look like this?"

"He's Kanda Yu," Lavi said mockingly as he extended a hand to Lenalee who was still on her horse. "His face – and his body – is his greatest value, eh, Yu?"

"Shut up," Kanda said, elbowing Lavi in the ribs.

"Ouch!"

"Serves you right," Kanda said venomously.

"No fighting, boys," Lenalee said as they entered under the Citadel. "Look, Brother is here to welcome us."

Komui came up to them, face grave. He looked older, somehow; Allen thought it might have been the poor lighting, but a feeling of unquietness settled on her all the same.

"Welcome back," Komui said, hugging Lenalee and shaking hands with the rest of them. "How did the journey go?"

"The same," Lavi said. "Nothing much happened, y'know, beyond the ordinary."

"That's good, that's good." Komui pushed his glasses up his nose. "Well… I'm sorry, Allen, I need to talk to you. I know you're tired –"

Kanda placed a warning hand before Komui's face. "Can't it wait till tomorrow? She's about to keel over and die from exhaustion."

"Exhaustion?"

"Brother," Lenalee said, "Allen did quite a bit of healing…"

"You what? And Cross allowed you to –"

"He couldn't stop me," Allen said with a smile.

"So he helped her," Lavi added.

Komui looked troubled, but he did not press the point. "Alright, Allen. Please come to my office tomorrow when you feel better. Have a good rest tonight, all of you!"

Komui watched the young people leave. A bone-deep weariness settled in his limbs with all the weight of lead. They were so young, and already so broken. And he would be fracturing Allen's heart and mind on the morrow, with the news he was to deliver. Damn Leverrier, he thought, fists clenching with an unholy anger, a deep-seated frustration with the order of things. Damn the man's ambitions. Damn Central. Damn us all.

That night, Komui betook himself to the chapel, and there he knelt before the altar, seeking instruction and wisdom in the face of destruction and wanton cruelty. He knelt and remembered the dead, and wept for the living, and called upon the heavens to light their dark and painful path.

But no answer came – no solution presented itself. There was no compromise to be had, no respite nor any chance of earthly salvation – only obedience and a looming attrition, and a sad, tragic doom swung its scythe over the tall towers and strong stone of the headquarters.

Allen stepped into the circular healing chamber. Shadows pooled in the corners, where the light from the flickering candles and torches could not go. Where's Leverrier?

Outside the window, rain fell heavily. Dawn had brought with it a storm.

A bolt of lightning crashed from heaven to earth, lighting up the waking world. In the harsh, electric light, a shadow moved across the chamber like a monster dredged up from the deeps.

A head too large – limbs too heavy – a glimmer of gold –

As the thunder rolled over the hills and echoed in distant valleys, Allen shrieked.

The shadow stopped moving just as the light faded from the chamber. In the half-light, Allen gripped the hilt of the sword of Innocence and felt the strain along the curves of her knuckles.

"You can let that go for now, Priestess."

Allen squinted. The figure was none other than Leverrier.

"Inspector," Allen said, when her heartbeat had steadied. "Why have you summoned me so early today?"

"Look," Leverrier said, pointing to the periphery of the chamber.

Previously, Kanda and Daisya had been placed on beds in the centre of the chamber when brought in for healing. This time around, a slab of some strange stone-grey material pierced with a fine gold vein sat in shadow, and atop the slab a human figure rested.

"Is he – dead?"

"No," Leverrier said. "He's merely waiting for you to heal him."

"Heal him? What's wrong with him?"

Leverrier only said, "First prepare yourself."

Once Allen had anointed herself with the holy oil, she returned to the slab. The shadows were thick here, and the chamber was still mostly dark in spite of the torches, and Allen was glad that she could not see the person's face.

"Here," Leverrier said, pushing a book into Allen's hands. "I've marked out the page."

Cold and trembling, Allen flipped through the old text. The stiff paper felt close to crumbling under her finger pads. She reached the indicated page – there was nothing but a stanza of words written in a language she didn't understand.

"I can't read this, Inspector."

"It doesn't matter. Just read it aloud."

Allen hesitated; she did not want to follow the instruction. Something beyond earth and petty power plays had stirred in her heart, and it said, do not do this, and so Allen pressed her feet into the worn flagstones and didn't begin the ritual.

Levrrier frowned. "Do it, Priestess! Do your duty!"

When the point was put across in this manner, Allen felt obliged to follow the unknown spell to save the stricken man. She recited the words in the incantation despite not knowing their meaning and despite the heaviness that sat like a boulder on her chest.

First, there was silence in the room, and outside, the howl of an angry god in each beat of the cacophonic storm.

Second, she felt a stream of power surge through her, spreading like gossamer threads through the shadows. It was a strange and unwieldy power, and it connected her to the injured man. She could feel the hiss of his breath and the palpitations of his heart, and the undercurrent of fear that strived against her power for control of the man's body.

But why is he fearful? Does he fear me?

Third, a great weight, heavier than the aforesaid boulder, crashed through the cool air of the room, and she felt smothered. A darkness had come into the room and now dwelled in her heart.

Her head hurt – her lungs pushed in on themselves – her heart struggled to keep its steady rhythm – her legs trembled. She was old and she was young; she saw the earth crumbling into ashes and dust, she saw the earth in its new-born glory with singing seas and tall green hills; she felt human pain and misery as she knelt at countless graves to toss in the first handful of soil and she reached the peak of human joy.

Still she struggled on, though the words were now whispers caught in her throat – still she read on – the evil in the man had to be exorcised, or he would never be able to live like a normal man again – might not be able to live at all, perhaps.

When it was all done, and harsh lightning again rolled across the dark sky, Allen collapsed onto the floor. Leverrier stepped over Allen's tangled limbs, going straight towards the man.

"How is he?" Allen asked.

Leverrier bent over the man. "Good. Very good. You have done well. You –"

"Let me in!"

Allen raised her head. Komui? Why is he here, and so early too? Did he switch souls with someone else while I was away?

"You can't go in, sir," one of the guards outside said.

"Let me in!"

"I'm sorry, sir, we have instructions not to–"

Leverrier threw open the door. "Komui."

Komui stumbled through the door, the soldiers at his heels. "Inspector–" Komui said through ragged breaths. "How could you!"

"I told you I would do it," Leverrier said, returning to his examination of the man.

Allen went to Komui. "Is something wrong?" she said worriedly.

"He has – he has–"

"I am working towards the final elimination of the Earl," Leverrier said. "That is my duty. It is your duty too, Chief Administrator, in case you have forgotten your oaths."

"I–"

There was a noise outside – the heavy footfalls of people rushing down the corridor – and then Reever and Bak appeared at the head of a group of scientists.

"He's done it?" Bak said, looking around. "Oh God, save us all."

"Done what?" Allen asked, increasingly confused. She let fall the ancient book; it lay against the discoloured flagstones, gold letters glimmering in the dancing firelight.

"Allen, do you know what you have done?" Komui said.

"I've just healed an injured man–"

Komui groaned. "No… you've just damned him. And he isn't injured to begin with!"

Allen strode to the man and scrutinised him – indeed, he appeared to be entirely unhurt. "What was that spell for, then?"

Komui picked up the old book. "You have just created a new Third Exorcist."

I – what? Allen gripped the oil basin for support. "That's can't be. I–"

In her head, she remembered saying that she would never support the experiments – never participate – and now she had done it – would everyone think her faithless? And what of the man? Had he agreed to the procedure – she had turned him into a monster – she was a monster…

Bak and Reever went to Allen's side and propped her up.

"Breathe, Allen," Reever said, patting her shoulder as Allen shivered against his arm.

"I'm breathing," Allen said faintly. "Thank you."

"I'm so sorry, Allen," Komui said. The book hung from his limp fingers, brushing against the side of his long coat. "I should have warned you last night."

"Ha," Leverrier said. "Allen Walker, you have done your duty as Priestess."

"How can this be called a duty?" Allen said. She could not bring herself to meet Leverrier's eyes.

"Treason hangs over your head," Leverrier said, smiling. "You must redeem yourself. Remember, the Priestess acts to save the country. She must not stumble because of little things."

"And this–" Allen said, pointing to the man on the slab, "is an act of redemption? I have turned him into a monster! I have destroyed his life! This is not a trivial matter, can't you see? Can't you, Inspector?"

"He knew the risks."

"How can you be so calm? How could you just stand there and – and– let me go!" Allen struggled against Reever and Bak.

Reever said in a strained voice, "Allen, you're too tired, you need to leave now."

"Take her back to her room and let her rest," Komui said in an even voice. "Inspector, your permission, please."

"Granted," Leverrier said. He bared his teeth in a smile. "Rest well, Allen Walker. You have done some good work today."

"I have destroyed him!" Allen shouted.

She wanted to break free, to run towards Leverrier, to land a slap across that hatchet face of his, to shout in his ear and demand justice for the young men and women whose lives he had ruined and whose lives he was ruining. She wanted to spit in his face and ground his toes to dust under her heels.

"Hush now," Reever said.

Reever and Bak – and a few other scientists – pulled Allen backwards and out of the chamber.

"Cowards," Leverrier said. "Every one of them. Even you, Komui."

"You shouldn't have done that," Komui said.

"It was for the better good."

"I don't think so. You just – we – must we really resort to such tactics, Inspector?"

Leverrier looked at his pocket watch. "She took merely an hour," he said. "It took Renny's team a month to transform Madarao. A month for each of them. Think of the powerful soldiers we will have."

"Think of them dying like flies," Komui said, turning to leave. Tears glinted behind his glasses as he walked away from the dark room, away from the stirring Third, away from the cruel manipulations of Malcolm C Leverrier.

I did it I did it I did it I was the one who did it me who condemned him what should I do now can I save him can I stand up to Leverrier…

Allen twisted her fingers into her hair, bringing the thick strands over her head and down her ears. She stood before her mirror, heartbeat thundering in her ears, the anger and desperation fresh in her veins.

When she looked at herself in the glass, she was rewarded with the sight of a madwoman looking right back at her. I can't do this anymore, I'm about to go crazy. I have to leave. I can't stay here and let Leverrier manipulate me. But what happens if I leave – everyone will suffer – can I leave? And the war?

The glass rippled. The madwoman disappeared; Allen's reflection drowned in the trembling ripples. As if from the depths of a foaming river, Neah surfaced like an ancient vodyanoy awakened from a wintry sleep.

"You can." Neah had grown more alive. No longer a wavering shadow, no longer a grey silhouette, now he stood tall and looked substantial.

"Go away, Neah. I'm not in the mood to speak to you," Allen said, bile rising in her throat. She wanted to retch until all the propensity to evil tumbled out of her.

Neah shifted in the mirror, the gold buttons on his dark coat glimmering, and took a seat on the mirror-bed. "I know how you feel."

"You don't. Go away, please."

"Or what, you'll make me suffer, dear niece? And how might you accomplish that?" Neah said.

"I'm really not–"

"I know how you're feeling. I'm in your head, after all."

"Then leave me alone." Allen let fall her hands, allowing the messy hair to fall in slight waves about her face.

"To mope alone? Oh, no. I'm here to give you good counsel."

"Nothing you say–"

"Even now?" Neah spread his hands wide, palms facing upwards. "Trust me. I'm not about to take over your body yet."

Allen eyed Neah suspiciously. "Really?"

"We can work together for a while," Neah suggested. "You're right, you know. You should leave."

"I should? You agree?" Then Allen added, "Is this a trap set by you?"

"I'm long dead, my dear. How could I have predicted this? I was never a seer. Leaving is better. I once conducted delicate experiments. It was most inhumane and that turned me against – well, you know the story from Marian."

"I could not hope to escape." Oh yes, Allen thought, he once experimented too. Should I trust him? If his goal is also to defeat the Earl… Maybe if I follow his counsel for a while…

"I know how to be on the run," Neah said.

"Yes, but–"

"It's now or never," Neah said. "You have to leave soon. If you don't believe me, just ask Marian. The time is coming… There will be no better chance. Take no one. Leave on your own accord, and find the best way to fight. We will fight together, you and I, until the Earl is gone. Leave these interfering ones."

"They will have no one to protect them!"

"There are plenty of them blessed by that Innocence you hold, are there not?"

Allen crossed her arms at her waist. "You're right. When should I leave?"

"As soon as you can. Before that Inspector makes you repeat the procedure again."

Cross slammed a large tray onto Allen's desk. "Eat."

"Master…"

"Komui said that you've been refusing to leave your rooms for a full day."

"I just…"

"Eat first."

Allen nodded, pulling over the nearest plate.

Cross sat down beside Allen. "So you did it, idiot apprentice." His voice was gravelly as a handful of stones rattling in the tight mouth of a glass bottle.

Allen twisted her body sideways to avoid looking at Cross. "Are you going to tell me to be ashamed of myself?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

"Why in the whole bloody world did you hole yourself up?"

"I couldn't – I just couldn't go out. I don't know what to say to any of them."

"Pride," Cross said, sounding a little disgusted. "They're worried. Especially Kanda. I heard you refused to let him in too."

"I have misplaced his trust," Allen said. "I know about his childhood, and yet I aided Leverrier in… creating these soldiers."

Cross stared at Allen for a good few seconds. Finally, he said, "You should talk to him."

"Sometimes," Allen whispered, "I think I can't carry on here any longer."

"You want to leave."

"I don't think I should, but the burden is too heavy."

Cross studied the ring on his finger. "Perhaps you should leave, then. It might be easier for you to reconcile with yourself."

"What?"

"You make the road you walk on." Cross ran a hand over the top of Allen's head. "You need to forge your own path to victory. Neah always envisioned fighting from the field."

"So–"

"If you leave, none of us here will be able to help you out there. Even an idiot like you must understand. But I think you will fly just fine by yourself."

"So I should go?"

"I'm not saying you should or should not. That choice is yours alone. But there is merit in leaving." Cross stood up to leave.

"Thank you, Master."

Cross smiled. "Take care of yourself, Allen. May we meet again before the end."

Kanda rested his head against the bark of a tall tree. The leaves, dark green and straining towards the sky, rustled overhead in the cool breeze.

Kanda reasoned that if the Beansprout didn't want to see him, then he wouldn't bother to look for her any longer. If she can't trust me enough to – fuck, what about the fucking soldier? She changed him, didn't she? Why are there still experiments?

There was a crackling sound – someone was treading over the grass. They'd all had a go at Kanda – Tiedoll, Marie, Komui, Lenalee, Lavi, and even Daisya – and he was tired of the lot of them. Kanda cracked an eye open to see who it was this time – which annoying fool had come to preach to him this time?

Bak Chang came into sight. His blonde hair, almost a bright yellow in the late afternoon sunshine, sat against his head in a most untidy manner. The stone hanging from his beret glimmered in the glare of the summer sun.

Kanda sat up straight against the tree trunk and frowned. "I'm busy."

"Kanda." Bak patted the grass beside Kanda and sat there despite the lack of an invitation to do so. "How have you been?"

Kanda shrugged.

"Is Allen still refusing to see you?"

Kanda nodded.

"I saw General Cross going into her rooms just now," Bak said. "Maybe he'll persuade her–"

"That, what, it's not her fault?" Kanda let out a bitter laugh.

Bak shrank back. "Well, you know, it really isn't her fault. She thought she was healing someone."

"I know."

"Then why are you–"

"I just want this to end."

Bak was taken aback; rarely did Kanda let his emotions show so plainly. Bak laid the back of his hand against Kanda's forehead to check whether Kanda was feverish. Scowling, Kanda pushed Bak's hand away before bringing his two hands back to his lap.

"Idiot," Kanda said peevishly. "Don't touch me."

Bak said, "I know we've hurt you."

"You're damned right."

"But please give us a chance–"

"Can't."

"Renny doesn't know what she's doing. She doesn't see the consequences – the research and the lure of discovery are blinding her to–"

"She knows exactly what she's doing," Kanda said. "Don't even try to defend her."

"Look," Bak said, "I know my family did unforgivable things in the name of science. And her family. But we're just trying to change the world into a better place. Hurry along the war so that peace can come."

Kanda snorted. "Were you an investigator back then?"

"I – what? No, I was too young to be on that team; I was on the other team, so I – oh."

"You don't understand what it was like." A pause, the length of a heartbeat. "You didn't see how it was like."

"My parents died," Bak said, staring at his intertwined fingers. "I miss them. I wish they could have lived longer, I wish none of the experiment subjects got at them. But that doesn't change the fact that I know they did some wrong things in the name of science."

"It's too late for that, save your breath," said Kanda.

"No – I – I want you to understand, Kanda. They did what they thought was right. My father… he used to return to our apartment and sit and stare out of the window. And sometimes he would tear up and say how sorry he was that children had to fight."

Kanda exhaled. It was a peaceful sound that blended in with the birdsong, a sound that hid his aggravation and his anger. Then he said, "I can't forgive them. Not your parents, not Zu Mei Chang."

Bak replied, "We will never be able to make it up to you. You see what I'm saying? I'm very apologetic towards you and Lenalee and the others who died. But I can't stop Leverrier and Renny from doing this."

"I didn't ask you to."

"You know – as well as I do," said Bak, "that when one person dies, the world doesn't just come to a standstill. The living stop to grieve for a while, and then one day they find that they can move on step by step."

"What are you trying to say?" Kanda said, his voice heavy with grief.

"Kanda, you – you still carry that burden. Look at Lenalee, she's a good example." Bak's cheeks turned a dusty pink as his thoughts turned to Lenalee. "Please let go of that hatred, or you will forever live in misery."

Kanda snorted. "She has her brother. He's an idiot, but he's still her kin."

"You lost them all," Bak said softly. "Once again, I can only apologise on behalf of–"

"Don't," Kanda said brusquely. "You weren't in it. They're dead and rotting in hell where they fucking belong. Zu Mei Chang will join them soon. That's all to it."

Bak sighed and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. "Don't you think you should talk to Allen?"

"I told you, she doesn't want to see me."

"But you should try to talk to her. Do you want her to reproach herself forever? Don't let this cycle perpetuate itself, Kanda. You know how it is to… be in a living hell. Help Allen out of it. Help her become strong and then stronger."

"Hmm."

"Leverrier and Renny have taken the wrong path again. You are one of the few people who can help Allen find the right way out of this mess." Bak clapped Kanda on the back. "Be well," he said, and left without looking back.

Kanda closed his eyes again. The sun was close to setting now; it lay like a soft yolk where sky met earth. Under the shade of the awning tree, he thought back to the days of his childhood, the grief-stricken period of loss after he first learned that his parents had been killed by the Akuma; the silent sullenness that he adopted thereafter, and the friendship with Alma.

Then Alma left too, and the days were dim with dreariness and despair. He remembered little of those days, until the red-robed CROW came for him. He still remembered how they grabbed him by his shoulders, lifting him easily even when he pitted his full weight against them.

The CROW people brought Kanda to Hevlaska, along with several other children. He remembered how Lenalee's eyes had met his, how she scurried to his side, and they stood together even as Hevlaska glowed with all the brilliance of a dying star. A strange woman with a thin face lifted her scarred fingers and called something with the cadence of wolf-cries, and a wind came that knocked them all down onto the floor. The children found themselves barely able to open their eyes, their kneecaps and elbows smarting from the impact.

There had been pain, and blood, and something bitter rising in his mouth. Ashes falling from the high domed ceiling, and the slow hiss of embers.

There had been a blinding mist, rolling up time and again, and snatches of cold sleep. Faces loomed above him – one with yellow hair and kind eyes, another with thick dark hair coiled on her head. There had been an older man in a white coat and a folder in his hands, and another yet older, pudgy and short.

Kanda did not remember much from those days. His memories began anew with Mugen being pressed into his hands by Tiedoll. No one mentioned it to his face, but rumour was that Twi and Edgar had been killed when most of the other experimental subjects went crazy .

Nonetheless, the pain remained – the memory of being inadequate for the touch of god, the clatter of glass, the hiss of chemicals, the whisper of an unknown word in an unknown language, the greed and desperation of a world where children were sharpened into weapons.

I can't forgive them, Kanda thought. They knew what they were doing. To hell with them!

A softer voice in his head said, but the Beansprout didn't know what she was about.

When Kanda had made up his mind, few could dissuade him from his purpose. Tiedoll managed to waylay Kanda near the dining hall to press something small into Kanda's hand, but Kanda soon effected an escape. He slid the thing into his pocket without looking at it.

The guards let Kanda into Allen's room.

Allen sat at the window with her back facing the door, bent over something.

"You idiot," Kanda said, as he faced Allen. "What the hell are you up to?"

Allen remained frostily calm. "I'm sorry, Kanda."

Kanda huffed; he dragged a heavy wooden chair over and sat opposite Allen. This close, he could see the object in Allen's lap. It was a miniature painting. Allen's fingers were pressed against the ridge cut into the ivory.

"What's that?" Kanda asked.

Allen held the miniature painting out to Kanda. "General Tiedoll came to see me earlier. He passed this to me."

On the ivory surface was painted a scene of Allen and Kanda, standing together in the Citadel garden. Kanda's fingers brushed the smooth watercolour rendering of their special moment alone in the garden. When did Tiedoll see us there?

Allen's eyes never left Kanda's face. She noticed the shock that stole into Kanda's face, the way it modified the stiff set of his jaw, the way it caused his eyes to widen slightly. "He said it was a gift."

"A gift."

"He saw us in the garden once and decided to paint us. He said he would give you one too."

Give me something? Oh. Kanda felt around in his pocket and brought out the object Tiedoll had given him earlier. He turned it around in his hands. The black velvet wrapping fell away, revealing a miniature painting identical to that in Allen's lap.

"He made two," Kanda said. Tiedoll was overbearing, and annoying, but he was also … he was also – Kanda couldn't bring himself to think the word father, but he thought teacher was acceptable.

"He didn't have to do this," Allen said.

"He likes to paint and draw."

"Yes, but he didn't have to make this for us. It was very kind of him. You should thank him, Kanda. He loves you like his own son, you know."

Kanda nodded. He found that a strange stinging sensation had travelled to his nose; embarrassed, he stared out the window. In the vast darkness outside, the moon waxed in the sky.

Allen added conversationally, "I'm sorry I turned you away the past few days."

Kanda watched the moon for a moment longer. In his head, he combed through the words he wanted to say. "You must have been sad."

"Quite." Allen too stared at the moon. "Isn't it strange how fate deals our cards?"

When Kanda did not respond, Allen said, "I swore I wouldn't help them do these things. When it all began, I hated the thought of blessing someone with the Innocence. And yet I blessed what's-his-name, Chaoni."

"I told you," Kanda said, a little impatiently, "it is better for us to have the blessing. We've argued this many times."

"I know. I'm just telling you a story, alright?"

"Fine."

"And I said I was horrified by the experiments that… you told me about. I was horrified, truly. I still am. And yet I helped make a new monster." Allen almost sobbed on the last word, but she caught herself in time, and the "ster" came out like a vehement gasp.

"It wasn't your fault."

"That's what everyone's trying to tell me. Even Link, can you believe it? He stood outside my door for an hour yesterday, trying to talk sense into me."

"He failed."

"Of course. How can he understand the magnitude of what I have done?" Allen said, trying to stretch her lips into smile.

Kanda leaned forward. "I repeat. It isn't your fault."

"Oh, it's easy for you to say that, BaKanda! You aren't the one who damned that man!"

"He chose that path!"

Allen shook with repressed sobs. "But I did it! I should have asked, should have checked his body for wounds–"

Kanda stood up. Quick as an eagle he went to Allen's side and pulled her into his arms. Allen sobbed against Kanda's shoulder, swaying back and forth on the edge of her seat. Kanda steadied himself with his legs and placed a warm hand against Allen's back.

"I'm sorry, I know how much you suffered – you and Lenalee and all the others, and yet here I am, helping to bring more suffering–"

"Stop," Kanda said. "You didn't know."

"I won't do it again, I promise."

"Alright. I'll help."

"You will?"

"Of course."

"You don't hate me for this?"

"They experimented on me." Kanda threaded his fingers through Allen's hair and bent so they could lock eyes. "And I forgive you."

Allen tried to blink the tears away, tried to quench the sobs rising in her throat, but it was a hard task.

"Are you done crying?" Kanda asked when Allen lay still in his arms, her breath ghosting over the side of his neck.

"Yes." Allen sat backwards, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. She offered Kanda a watery smile. "Thank you."

"Next time don't hole yourself up. You made everyone worried."

"I'll try not to," Allen said, and meant it. "Shall we take a walk?"

"Now? It's almost midnight."

"Midnight's a good time as any… I'll distract the guards. Master taught me how."

Allen and Kanda took their walk. Their arms brushed as they walked, but they made no move to initiate further contact, choosing instead to bask in their quiet companionship. They sneaked through the busier floors, and when they reached the corridor leading to the quiet, dusty wing where the captains kept their rooms, Allen stopped and convinced Kanda that they should head to his room.

Allen sat on Kanda's bed, stretching her limbs. "Come over here, won't you, BaKanda?"

Kanda crossed the room and sat beside Allen. Their thighs touched; through the layer of fabric Allen could feel the warmth of Kanda's body. She leaned against him, head against the cliff of his shoulder.

"I feel very comfortable like this," she said.

Kanda's only response was to slide an arm around Allen's shoulders.

"If only we could stay like this forever…"

"That's not possible, Beansprout."

"I know. Tomorrow will come and we'll have to go out there and fight again. Oh, God, when will this all end!"

Kanda did not respond for a long while.

"I was thinking," Kanda said after a long stretch of time, "maybe we should get married."

Allen untangled herself from Kanda's arm. "I thought you didn't want to?"

"I've been thinking these few days…"

"How unusual," Allen said, unable to help herself.

Kanda glared at Allen. "I'm not a fool," he said. "So, what do you think?"

"It's too early for that, BaKanda. And we don't want to let Leverrier achieve his aims, do we?"

"If we married, I'd have a real reason to protect you. When they ask."

"That's not a good reason to get married."

Kanda narrowed his eyes, feeling stretched thin already. He did not know what else to say. "I – I love you."

"That's a good reason, I suppose," Allen said. She was so happy to have heard the words, words she had never thought to hear from Kanda. She wanted to kiss him, to hold him close. "I love you too."

"Then, we–"

"Weren't we worried about Leverrier experimenting on any children we might have?" Allen struggled to force the words out, for she was very close to Kanda now, and the proximity made her heart race fast and her thoughts slow down.

"We'll stop him," Kanda said with conviction.

"I'm afraid that's impossible," Allen said. She pressed her thigh against Kanda's.

Kanda, seasoned soldier though he was, could not force down the sensation that tingled through him at the contact between them.

Then, Allen said, "I'm so sleepy. Can I sleep here tonight?"

Kanda shrugged. "If you want to. I can sleep on the floor…"

"No, we can share. No one's going to walk in here without knocking first right?"

"I'll bolt the door." Kanda got up to bolt the door and blow out the lamp.

In the darkness, with only the light of the stars and moon drizzling in through the window, Allen waited under the covers. She could hear Kanda's steady footfalls as he walked from the lamp to the bed. She wondered what was in his mind, whether he was suspected what she was about to do.

As Kanda slid under the covers, Allen folded her hands as if in prayer. I've decided what to do, she thought. I want this, and then – it's time to face up to reality. This memory will be a keepsake in the times to come.

When Kanda was settled in, Allen curled herself into a foetal shape facing Kanda. Her hands found Kanda's, and she intertwined her fingers with his. Kanda's breath rested warm against the shell of her ear, and she could feel his eyes boring into hers.

"Good night," he said, trailing a finger down a strand of hair that had fallen over her shoulder.

"Kanda," Allen said, pressing a palm into the curve of his shoulder. "Can I have a favour?"

"What?"

Allen stretched her spine and leaned upwards. She pushed her lips against Kanda's; he returned the kiss. After a few seconds, Allen slid her hands over his shoulders and brought them to rest in the small of his back.

Kanda broke the kiss. "What are you doing?"

"This is what I want tonight, BaKanda. The favour I'm asking."

"But we're not married."

Allen sighed, withdrew her hands, and laid her forehead against Kanda's. "We're both of age and consenting. That's all that's required under the law."

"Yes, but we're not married."

"Well, then, is it your first time?"

A long pause. "No," Kanda said finally. Then he added, "But it's this way with all of us who fight–"

"I know. I'm not blaming you."

"I won't anymore now. I haven't since we–"

"Hush, BaKanda." Allen pressed a finger against Kanda's mouth. "This is my prerogative as Priestess. I have the right. No one will fault me for it when we have ample precedents of this nature." So saying, Allen gently brought Kanda's hands to her waist.

The bed creaked as Kanda moved again so he could look down into her eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," Allen said. She pressed herself upwards into Kanda's arms, one palm against his chest, a little to the right of the rose emblem. She could feel his heartbeat galloping like a gallant steed.

For a moment, they stayed that way. Kanda's hair fell over Allen's back. Then, Kanda curled his fingers against Allen's waist; he spread kisses across her face and neck, and they tumbled back down onto the soft linen.

As always, Kanda rose before the sun. The morning wind came in from the window, bringing with it an edge of chill even in summer. Kanda shivered and sat up. The chill bit into his skin, and he thought, Beansprout will be cold. He reached for the blanket and pulled it upwards to lay it over Allen's shoulder.

His hands brushed something soft; on closer inspection, it was a pillow. Allen was not in the bed. Kanda looked around; Allen was not in the room. Kanda ran his hand over the bedlinen, and found that it was cold. She must have left a while earlier.

Kanda shrugged on his clothes and went to Allen's chamber. The sleepy guards let him in without a fuss.

Inside, all was dark. The sitting room was in its usual state of disarray, books and papers strewn all over the table and some chairs despite Link's constant reminders to do something about them.

Kanda moved to the bedroom and knocked. There was no answer, so Kanda pushed the door open.

"Beansprout," he said.

Kanda raised his lantern. The room was entirely empty, and noticeably tidy. Too tidy. Kanda made a slow circuit of the room, thrusting the lantern here and there. The bed had not been slept in; there were no spare cloaks or dresses flung about; and gone were the stacks of dusty tomes Allen usually kept in her bedroom.

Only the vanity table remained a mess. The mirror stood slanted to the side. A fan, inlaid with rubies and pearls, lay across the rim of a cup of congealed, muddy tea. Papers littered the left side of the desk, and the stalk of orange blossom stood shrivelled in its vase.

There Kanda found an envelope sealed with wax. He tore it open, flinging the little scrapes of paper that came off onto the ground. With stiff fingers he unfolded the paper within.

The paper read:

BaKanda, or whoever finds this,

I go to complete my duty as the Destroyer of Time. I cannot do that here where I am forced to partake in activities that sting my conscience and compromise my integrity.

I will kill the Earl, or die trying, and until then, I will not return. So – do not try to look for me.

May the war always go in your favour. I love this City of ours, and all who dwell in it, and I will always think fondly of it, but the way leading to complete victory is hidden while I reside there.

Farewell. I pray we may meet again at or before the end.

AN (23.10.16): And so we come to the last arc of this story. I have about another 5 chapters in mind, but we'll see. Thanks for reading!

(Please let me know if you think the rating should go up because of that second last scene - honestly I think it's oblique enough and unhappening enough to fall within the T boundary, but I'm not quite sure.)