Disclaimer: Amazingly enough, I still don't own DGM.

Warnings: discussion (internal) of personal loss and ptsd; Kanda has a mouth (actually a lot of the characters do); offensive language


Kanda POV


When I got back home late Sunday afternoon, my first order of business was unpacking – if there is one thing that I absolutely cannot stand, it's mess. That may seem at odds with my artistic tendencies, but I really don't care about anyone's opinions or preconceptions. "Artists are messy"? What the fuck. Honestly. If you don't clean brushes properly, you end up having to throw them out. If your workstation isn't clean, you'll contaminate your colors. If your supplies aren't in their proper place, you won't be able to find them when you need them in a hurry because inspiration just struck and the paint is already drying.

After that, I spent a couple hours practicing my sword forms, took a shower, and meditated for a while. As I walked through house afterwards, I stopped in front of an oil painting that hung in a secluded corner of the house. The corridor led nowhere, and curved in under the stairs to form a sort of alcove. I used to meditate there sometimes, when the weather was cold, but now… not so much.

The oil on canvas was one of my finest works, but the situation that had given rise to it was, well, unfortunate. And also very typical of me, honestly.

Ever since he first entered my life, Alma has been a part of me. When he died, it felt like I lost my whole world. The panic and pain that comes with too much reminiscing set in less than a week after he had died. I was still in the hospital, and the seizure was so bad, the doctor panicked – he thought my body was rejecting the transplant. After they realized that was not what was going on, they called in some fake-nice psychiatrist so that I could "talk to them", and "open up about my feelings". I was young and unstable enough then that that they got me. I talked enough for that asshole shrink to slap me with a label (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), prescribe me a bunch of meds, and go on their merry way.

The thing is, the meds actually made things worse. So I was taken to a different psychiatrist (the first one was the hospital psychiatrist, after all), who prescribed something else. When that didn't work, they prescribed something that sort of worked, but made me too dizzy to walk up a flight of stairs. When I explained this to them, they said that since it works, we should keep it, but "we can decrease the dosage a bit, if you like". It was around then that I decided I was done to Hell with psychiatrists. What's the point of shoving myself full of meds that either don't work or cause such serious side-effects that I can't live my life normally? It's better to just handle this on my own. I was 12 years old at the time.

As time went on, I started to get better. I trained myself not to react as strongly, figured out how to calm myself down when I was on the verge of a panic attack, got to know my triggers so that I could avoid them. But despite all this, when I turned 14, things got bad. I don't know why, but they did. And by then, Tykki was already very much into drugs. So I just did what any 14-year-old would do: I talked to my friend, and started self-medicating.

This painting was made the summer after I turned 15. I had a particularly bad flashback which included the memory with the lotus blossoms on the lake. So, propped up on weed (probably mixed with something, I'll be honest – when I talked to Tykki, I'd made it clear I wanted to be high, not low, and I didn't care what it took) and alcohol, I painted this piece. I understand now why people always assume art-types are on drugs.

It's a 4' by 5' canvas, painted with oils and framed. The background is a dark (well past navy) blue, with murky blue-brown shapes rising from it, swirling in it. Even I don't know what they are, and that's sort of the point – you see what you want to see, what your mind conjures from the haze. But the shapes are far from the focus of the painting, anyway. Dead center in the piece is an enormous lotus blossom, pink and white, painted to look like it's actually glowing. But it isn't an image of triumph, but of a dawning awareness of mortality. The flower is beautiful, yes, but it's also dying. The edges of the petals are turning brown, and their pointed ends have begun to curl outward and droop. The lotus is still alive and beautiful, but its life is nearing its end. Soon enough, it will sink back down, reclaimed by the murky abyssal waters from which it had once arisen.


Monday morning was a bit of a shock. It was cold outside, and the lights inside the school were way too fucking bright. I grabbed my stuff and sat down in AP English. Two more weeks until winter break.

"Hello, Kanda," I heard a soft voice speak up near me. Looking up, I found the Moyashi smiling at me, concerned and… hopeful? I looked away.

"Morning, Moyashi."

"It's Allen, BaKanda!" He hissed, stalking away.

I smirked.


I fully intended to spend my lunch period outside with a leisurely smoke. When I found Tykki there as well, I expected that I would get my wish. He looked up as I strode outside, but waited for me to light a cigarette before saying anything.

"How was the break?"

I turned away. "All right." I may have finally admitted to myself, and even told Marie, about my newfound affections for the Moyashi, but that information wasn't gonna reach Tykki quite just yet. I turned back to him. "You?"

He smirked, "I spent the whole time with Lavi."

"Spare me the details, Tykki," I groaned.

"You sure~?"

"Absolutely."

We stood there in silence for a while after that, finishing our cigarettes. Tykki can be annoying, yeah, just like his boyfriend, but unlike Lavi, he knows how to appreciate staying quiet for a while. But only for a while.

"So, are you gonna come inside?"

I looked at him, and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Dude, our breath clouds the air even without the cigarettes – it's fucking cold! Aren't you gonna come inside?" He smirked, "Not in that way, of course. I have a boyfriend, you see."

"Tykki, shut the fuck up." After his comment, I really wanted to resist, but he was right – it's fucking cold. "Che. Whatever. I'll go." With one last sigh, I followed him inside the building.


Why does reentering the school building mean going to lunch? I was really looking forward to a peaceful empty period. Now I have to spend it with these morons in a room that is way too loud. Ugghhh. My head is killing me. As discreetly as I could (which is quite discreet, mind you), I popped two Tylenol with water from my water bottle. Then turned back to the lunch table I was presently sitting at, which included the Moyashi, Tykki, Lavi, Road, and Lenalee. I was somewhat surprised to see that Lenalee is eating the exact same thing as me for lunch: a bottle of water. Guess she's worried about staying healthy. That recital of hers is this week, right?

Right on cue, Lenalee spoke up:

"So, guys, I have something for you, if you want it." She reached into her bag to pull out slips of paper, then began handing them around. "These are the tickets for my recital. I have one for each of you, and two for Jasdevi, if you can get it to them," she smiled, handing the extra tickets to Road.

"I didn't realize you knew Jasdevi!" Tykki grinned, surprised, "When did that happen?"

"Well I've spent a lot of time at Road's place this semester," Lenalee shrugged, "and they seem to frequent the place, so I feel I've gotten to know them pretty well. They may not be interested in ballet, but I thought I'd invite them, just in case," she finished with a smile.

"Thank you, dear," Road grinned, pecking Lenalee on the cheek, causing her to blush a bit.

"The Nutcracker? What part do you have, Lenalee?" All- The Moyashi piped up after a moment of silence, smiling at the pigtailed girl.

Lenalee bit her lip, barely containing her smile and blushing like mad. "I'm Clara, actually."

"What? Oh my gosh, why didn't you tell me?" Road gasped, hugging a laughing Lenalee around the middle.

"Congratulations, Lenalee!" The Moyashi grinned, "That's awesome!"

"Well done, girl. That's seriously impressive," Tykki grinned.

"Yeah, you've worked your ass off for it!" Lavi added, "No wonder you were dieting!" Road shot him a look, and something flickered across Lenalee's face, there and gone in the blink of an eye. I don't think anyone else caught it. "Uh, not that your figure wasn't great before, I just mean, I can tell why you put so much work into it."

"What the idiot is trying to say, Lenalee," I interrupted, "is that you've worked really hard, for years, to get as good as you are in ballet. And that work is finally paying off, and we're both proud of, and really happy for you."

"Th-thanks, Kanda. That really means a lot, especially coming from you."

I looked around to find everyone staring at me, with smiles and surprise. I rolled my eyes. Just because I'm normally an asshole doesn't mean I can't compliment a friend on her hard work.

"A-Actually, I have other news, too!" Lenalee grinned, trying to change the atmosphere. Or prevent me from hitting someone – who knows? "Remember how I was able to get away from my brother for Thanksgiving? I found out why!"

"Oh?" Road's eyes gleamed, "Is it something we'll be able to use to spend more time together?"

"Probably. As it turns out, Reever asked my brother out! And Komui said yes!"

"Ok, I'll be clear: I never saw that one coming," Lavi stated, eyebrow raised, eye wide.

"I know – I was shocked, too. I thought they were just really good friends."

"Oh!" Lavi perked up suddenly, "I have similar news, actually! Fo and Bak Chang have also started dating! I found out this morning!"

Tykki said, "Gods help him," while I spit out a "Jesus fucking Christ," at the same time.

"That's a strange expression, no? 'Jesus fucking Christ'? How exactly does that work? Like, is he autosexual or something?"

We all turned to the Moyashi, sitting there all innocent. Then Tykki just burst out laughing, loud and obnoxious. Lavi quickly joined in, and even Road ended up giggling into her hands.

"Well, I'll never be able to look at 'jfc' the same way again," Lenalee smirked. (I didn't know she could do that.)

And the Moyashi just sat there, all innocent, embarrassed smiles. Well, fuck him too.

Maybe not.

Or actually, yes.


Well, there you have it; another sort-of light-hearted chapter. And the last one of its kind for a while. Sorry about that.

Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited or followed my work! I am incredibly grateful!

Love,

Red