Komui tapped his fingers in a slow, monotonous rhythm on his chair. Every hollow thump seemed to echo around the empty room, reverberating back at him. Taptaptaptap. Taptaptaptap.

Despite its role in saving the world, the Black Order was a relatively small organization. They relied primarily on donations from the small group of individuals who knew what work they truly did, and the number of people willing to join the war effort was...small. Komui was honestly surprised that the organization had lasted as long as it had-almost no one was crazy enough to bet their lives on what was surely a suicide mission.

Overall, the European Black Order had roughly 100 employees, 50 finders, and a handful of exorcists at any one time. That was around 170 people.

Komui hadn't been expecting much when he'd launched his investigation into the European Black Order two weeks ago. Maybe 10 people, at the most 20 people. At the most. These were Komui's men, after all. He had fought with them, bled with them, held their hands as they grieved over family members.

40 people. 40 people. And the number was climbing.

Komui took a deep breath and shifted in his chair, momentarily halting his persistent tapping. He started up again as soon as he was settled.

That was a little less than a quarter of the Order. A little less than a quarter of his men had apparently lost enough faith that they were willing to put their lot in with a psychopath. The same men and women who had trusted him with their lives during the war turned their back on him when peace finally came to their doors.

Komui almost missed the war-people had been simple, then. They were all just trying to survive, and the only reason someone might betray them was if the Earl had infiltrated their ranks. It was understandable; it was natural. The Earl was their enemy, so he implanted spies in their midst. It was annoying, but it made sense.

The most coherent reason that Komui got out of the traitors was that Bao Lei was right about him, and about Allen Walker. Allen Walker was a traitor, and the fact that Komui had sided with him was a sign of...he didn't know. Sudden loss of judgement? Sudden insanity? Answers varied. His befuddlement increased with every vitriolic comment spat in his directions.

Lenalee had gotten this look on her face recently, a dark, hunted one that he hadn't seen in years. She stalked the Black Order like an animal, and people quickly learned that the only way to avoid getting trampled was to get out of her way. And god forbid anyone insult Allen in her presence-just the other day she had nearly taken someone's head off.

He was worried, a little. He was concerned that one day Lenalee might finally snap and rain her fury down on someone who didn't deserve it. But...

Komui knew the reason for her agitation. It was because of all the traitors they'd been unearthing. More than that, he understood where she was coming from. He felt that same skittishness, that same desire to cloak himself in armor and look suspiciously on anyone who approached. But since he wasn't allowed to do that-he was the face of the Order, after all-he was forced to express his emotions in different ways. Namely, locking himself in his office for hours at a time and letting no one except Lenalee, Johnny, Reever, and Jerry in.

And...he knew that he was affecting the entire Order with his moods. The others had caught some of his suspicion-scientists whispered furtively amongst themselves and then fell silent when others walked by. Finders eyed each other darkly, as though expecting a traitor to reveal themselves at any moment.

Komui scrubbed his hands over his face tiredly at the memory-it was becoming a problem. Lenalee wasn't the only one who looked like she was about to snap; the entire Order felt like a primed bomb, just waiting for a match to set it alight.

This couldn't go on forever. The instability was threatening the European Order's ability to react, and that was the one thing they couldn't afford where Bao Lei was concerned. She would no doubt take advantage of that instability. There was even the possibility that she was behind it all, had encouraged the suspicion, had primed the bomb.

If she had, it was working. That was the worst part.

Komui was interrupted from his musings by a sharp, succinct knock on his door. He took a second to sake out his hands and fold them on the table, forcing his fingers still, before pasting a neutral expression on his face. Calm, inscrutable. The face of a leader. "Who is it?"

"It's me, Director Komui." Came the prompt response, and Komui relaxed. Reever. "Can I come in?"

Komui was already on his feet and halfway to the door. "One moment."

He undid the lock and threw the door open, revealing the exasperated expression on Reever's face. The Chief of the European Science Branch hadn't changed much over the years, except for a thin scar which trailed from just below his lip to an inch under his eye. An unfortunate accident with a Noah, but at least the man had survived.

"It smells musty in here." Reever said with mock annoyance, shoving past Komui and into the office. He observed the books and papers strewn across the floor with no small amount of disdain. "When was the last time you cleaned in here?"

Komui grinned unrepentantly, even as he shut the door behind his friend. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Reever huffed and rolled his eyes. "Anyway, that's not what I came in here to talk about. Link is back."

Komui's eyes widened-he'd almost completely forgotten about the ex-Crow. "What?"

The fact that Link was back-did that mean he'd found-?

"General Cross Marian isn't with him." Reever continued, dashing all of Komui's hopes. "That doesn't mean anything, though-he's refusing to speak with anyone except for you."

So there was still hope. Komui clenched his jaw, firming his resolve. "Where is he now?"

Reever was eying him sideways, and the look on his face said that Komui was being weirdly serious again. "He went to the showers as soon as he got in-complained about the smell."

Komui nodded sharply, completely understanding the feeling of wanting to be clean after days of traveling. "Bring him in as soon as he's finished."

Reever nodded back, and left the room.

Komui sighed when he noticed that Reever had left the door open behind him.

Long after Aisha had left, Lavi turned to look at Allen, still hunched over the tea kettle. His hand was no longer covering his mouth, instead resting lightly on the counter. He didn't look any better, though.

Lavi remembered, very clearly, the way Allen's expression had broken before it had slammed shut. He remembered the way Allen had turned from Aisha, hand covering his mouth like it was all he could do not to scream. And all it had taken was one kind touch, one small gesture of kindness. Allen hadn't been so unstable before. Emotionally and mentally traumatized, yes, but at least he had been a bit more steady.

There was something going on in Allen Walker's head right now, Lavi knew that much. He didn't know what it was, but he was almost certain it was because of Bao Lei locking onto their location. He was also almost certain that whatever it was, it was very, very bad. Allen was close to making a decision that would have irreversible consequences.

What he needed to do now was change Allen's mind, before it was too late.

"Allen…" Lavi began, not entirely sure how to approach his friend. "Allen, why don't you sit down with me?"

Allen jumped a little, then whipped his head around to meet Lavi's eye. The look on his face was vaguely hunted. He considered that for a second, before slowly turning away from the counter and saying slowly, "Yeah...sure. Okay."

Relieved, Lavi slid into one of the chairs next to the table, smiling openly as Allen did the same. But now that that first hurdle had been crossed, the smile froze on his face. He had no idea what he was supposed to say.

He took a deep breath, preparing to jump in, when Allen beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, Lavi." He said quietly, his eye fixed on the wood grain of the table before them. "I'm sorry I-" He broke off, biting his lip.

This, Lavi could do. Even if he wasn't so good at initiation, he could react. "Allen, you know that none of this is your fault, right?"

"That's not true." Allen said immediately, finally looking up into Lavi's eye. "If it wasn't for me, you would be safe. It's because of me that you're trapped here in this city, unable to leave because-"

"I am here because I want to be." Lavi interrupted firmly. "And-maybe I was here at first because I was forced to be, but I feel differently now. And I think I speak for Kanda as well-you know better than anyone that no one can force him to do what he doesn't want to do."

"But-" Allen was looking frustrated now, his fist curling into a tense ball in front of him. Lavi's breath caught in his throat-the sense of standing on the cusp of something monumental almost overwhelming. "Regardless of whether or not you two want to be here! You can't deny that you'd probably be happier elsewhere! You can't deny that-that you wanted to leave the Black Order and get on with your lives."

"Allen." Lavi said, quietly stunned. He hadn't realized that this what his friend was bottling up-this constant, irrational guilt. The idea that he was somehow dragging his friends down, despite the fact that the idea had never crossed Lavi's mind at all.

"It would be better if I wasn't here." Allen whispered, his voice heartbreakingly soft, too stuck in his own head to see Lavi's face. "It would be better if I-if-"

And Lavi, in that moment, completely misunderstood. He didn't understand what Allen was really saying, and that whatever Lavi said right then would change the course of the future. Despite his intelligence, despite his ability to read people, Lavi Bookman Jr. was unable to understand how close his best friend was to shattering.

"Allen." Lavi said urgently, leaning across the table.

Lavi would look back on this conversation for years, wondering. If he'd said the right thing, if he'd understood, and made Allen understand, would things have been different? Would that have been enough to prevent the disaster that followed?

He would never find out. But the words he wished he'd thought to say-

"Allen, you can't think that. Please don't think that. Don't you know how much we all love you? Don't you know how much we would cry if you weren't here?"

He didn't say them.

Instead he said, "Allen, I promise that this is all going to be over soon. I promise that Bao Lei isn't going to be a problem for any of us. I have a plan, I know how to solve all of this."

Allen froze, staring at his friend. There was tentative hope blooming in his eyes.

"The Bookman's will," Lavi began, and then his throat closed up. He swallowed once, twice, and then said again, quieter, "The Bookman's will said that he wanted me to be the next Bookman. He's given me a recommendation, and a letter publicly denouncing Bao Lei and her fake Bookman."

Allen inhaled sharply, leaning back a little in his chair.

"If I take up the mantle and challenge Bao Lei's Bookman, I can stop all of this." He continued. "I can clear your name, and make sure people know the true story of the Noah. I can do that." He reached out and gripped Allen's small, cold hand in his own. "So please, stay here. We can protect you, just like we promised."

And for some reason...the hope, which had been burning like slow coals in Allen's eye, winked out. Lavi was suddenly lost; where before he had thought he'd understood his friend, now he wondered if it had been something else. Why-?

"You're still sacrificing yourself for me." Allen whispered, gently shaking off Lavi's grip and folding his hand in his lap.

"I want to." Lavi said honestly, still trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

Allen hesitated for a second, still with that terribly blank expression on his face. Then he smiled, very small and very sad, and said, "I know you'll be a great Bookman."

And when Allen got up to leave the table, Lavi couldn't help but think that he had failed, that he had missed something important.

The dread in his stomach felt unnaturally close to the feeling of falling.

Kanda was pretty certain that he had never felt this miserable before.

A fortunate side effect of his rapid healing ability was that he also never got sick. When the entire Order had been suffering under the effects of an extremely contagious cold, he'd been the only one they could rely on for missions. Even Alma had been prone to colds, where Kanda had stayed hale and healthy.

But after the war had ended, the science department had removed the lotus tattoo on his arm, and his healing ability along with it. Kanda would've been happy to keep it, but according to the scientists, the longer he had it on the shorter his life got. Not that he cared whether or not he lived long, not really, but the others had. Lenalee had demanded its removal as soon as she'd heard, which was just typical.

Now he wished that they had just let him keep the damn thing. Maybe then he wouldn't be feeling this way-sore all over, stomach cramping up at even the thought of food. Nothing pleasant had been happening in his system-shit, he didn't even want to think about it. God fucking damn it.

Being sick was disgusting.

The door creaked open, and Kanda let out a groan as the light from the hall lanced across his face. "Shut the fucking door!" He rasped.

But what was even worse was that he had to rely on the stupid beansprout and the stupid rabbit. He was completely helpless, and it was mortifying.

"Sorry." The beansprout whispered, hastily shutting the door. Darkness encompassed the room, but Kanda's eyes were long used to the shadows. He could just make out the beansprout's outline, hovering inside the doorway.

"Wait." Kanda squinted. "Where's your-fuckin'-mask? And glove? Get out of here, you stupid piece of shit." He vindictively thought about releasing the contents of his stomach all over the idiot, just to prove a point, but he restrained himself.

But the beansprout didn't listen to him, just shook his head slowly and began feeling his way toward the small chair at the desk in the corner. "This won't take a second, I promise. I just want to talk."

And now Kanda was suspicious. He levered himself onto his trembling arms (he hated how they could barely support his weight), so he could get a better vantage point. It was starting to bother him that he couldn't make out the beansprout's face properly. Little warning bells were starting to go off in his head. "The hell do you mean talk?"

"Just-" The beansprout sighed, low and tired. "Talk. Is that so hard to understand?"

"It's never just talking with you." Kanda muttered, scooting back against his pillow. "Alright, what do you want?"

There was a long stretch of silence, where Kanda got more and more impatient, and more and more certain that something was wrong. He really wished he could see the stupid beansprout's face right now.

Finally the beansprout said, "Have you thought…about what you're going to do after...after this is all over? After we're all free?"

Well that's an odd wording, Kanda thought, frowning. He wasn't trapped here-he could technically leave whenever he chose to. He was the one who had insisted on the beansprout having an experienced protection detail, after all. It hadn't needed to be him, and he'd been slightly surprised when the decision had been passed down, but he wasn't complaining. The stupid beansprout had half the globe out for his blood, he needed the best.

But what were his plans after all this was over? After this shit with Bao Lei had blown over?

"Haven't thought about it." Kanda growled. Didn't think I'd live that long, he mentally added. He'd been bred for the war, after all-he'd had no reason to think that he'd get a life of any sort after it was over.

His second reaction was to tell the moron that it wasn't any of his business, but the warning bells were still ringing in his head. This moment was important, for whatever reason. \

"Why?"

"Why do you fucking think?" What a dumbass question. "I was born to be a weapon. No one expected the war to end in our lifetime."

The beansprout paused at that, like he was genuinely surprised by the answer. Then he let out a short, derisive bark of laughter. "You know, I honestly feel the same way. I always thought I was going to die during the war. After the trial, I was so excited to... to live, you know? To be...normal." He sighed, a breath of sound that almost rang in the dark room.

Maybe it was the darkness, hiding their faces from each other. Maybe it was the fever in his veins, which broke down his walls and made him more frank than he would've ever been on his own. Whatever it was that caused the sudden bout of naked honesty, he was almost certain that it would never repeat itself.

"You still have time, you know." He said plainly. "It's not like you've lost that chance. If you don't die, then you'll have a lot of opportunities to be normal after this."

There was another pause, this time much longer than the first. As the silence stretched on, Kanda mentally ran over what he had just said, and was immediately horrified. Had he actually fucking said that? He needed to get away from these fucking people. They were making him soft.

Before Kanda could vehemently start cussing beansprout out, however, the other teen said, very quietly, "And so will you. After all this is over, you'll be able to experience all the things you weren't able to when you were an exorcist."

Kanda squinted into the darkness, the sense of wrongness growing in his chest. That was too-wistful. Too firm. Too determined. It was the voice that Allen Walker used when he was about to do something stupid and sacrificial.

"...that's beside the point." He said finally. "What exactly are you planning, you moron?"

The beansprout said nothing, but a second later the shadowy figure was across the room and at the door. Kanda blinked, and the door was cracked open once more, just enough so the light slanted across the beansprout's pale face, across the sad slash of his mouth. For the first time Kanda truly saw the haunted look in his eye, and the weight which was suddenly weighing down the beansprout's shoulders.

Kanda rose shakily from the bed, because-

He had to stop this. Whatever the beansprout was about to do, he had to stop it.

"You're going to get the life you deserve. The life you should've had." Allen told him quietly. "I'm going to make sure of it." Then, as Kanda was still trying to disentangle himself from the sheets, the asshole closed the door.

There was a click as the lock engaged.

"BEANSPROUT!" Kanda roared, sprawling in a clumsy heap on the floor. His sweaty hands skidded across the smooth wood, and then he finally managed to upright himself. He threw himself against the door, but it didn't budge. "WHATEVER YOU'RE PLANNING, YOU BETTER FUCKING NOT. BEANSPROUT!" He pounded against the solid barrier, furious and terrified. "ALLEN!"

But Allen was gone.

Link looked the same as the last time Komui had seen him. Same sinewy grace, same richly tanned skin, same long braid bleached by the sun. The only difference was the lack of spots on his forehead and the look on his face; when he'd been with Allen, he had seemed somehow more relaxed. Now he looked tense and grim, like all the happiness had been sucked out of him.

"I found General Cross." He began.

"Is that where Timpcampi is?" Komui asked, looking around for the little golemn.

"Yes, actually." Link sighed, and sprawled casually in the chair across from Komui's desk, a marked difference from his usual demeanor. It took a lot for Link to break his strict control of himself-he must've been bone tired. "But he's not...well."

And if that wasn't one of the most alarming things Komui had ever heard. "What do you mean?"

Link frowned, pulling himself up and crossing his ankles so that he looked slightly more dignified. "Whatever magic General Cross was using to keep himself from aging...it, ah…"

Komui hadn't realized that Cross Marian had been using magic to keep himself youthful, but it made a certain sort of sense. Just one more secret in a bucket of mystery.

He suddenly recalled Neah falling backward, black hair turning white, grey skin turning pale, and caught on. "It wore off, didn't it." It wasn't a question. "So he's an old man now?"

"I'd place his age around 80 or 90." Link confirmed, his voice equally grim. "He's lucid enough-aging doesn't seemed to have dulled his mind. However I didn't want to risk transporting him in the passenger train from China to here-his physical health is too fragile to make that kind of journey."

Komui winced, considering. On one hand, Cross's strategic mind would be a great boon in the war to bring down Bao Lei and clear Allen's name. What with Lavi unwilling-or unable?-to step up as the new Bookman, Komui had secretly been counting on Cross's influence to turn the tides in their favor.

On the other…

What would it cost them to get Cross to England? It sounded as though he might not survive a long journey.

Then, a thought hit him.

"You said China, right?" Komui asked slowly, tenting his hands in front of him. A plan began to form in his mind.

Link nodded, equally slowly, looking as though he was beginning to have the same thought as Komui. The gears were turning in both of their minds, coming to a similar conclusion. "He wasn't too far from the Asian Order. It would likely be no trouble for Bak Chan to go and fetch him."

A grin began to spread across his face, slow and pleased. Having Cross in China might actually be better than having him in England-Bak Chan needed more help than ever right now. Bao Lei was an unstoppable force, but Cross himself was an immovable object. Pitting the two against each other would be an interesting thing to witness.

'Absolute disaster' might be more appropriate, actually.

Before Komui could say anything, however, he was interrupted by the sound of loud, urgent pounding on his door. "Komui!" Lenalee shouted, her voice high pitched and as panicked as he had ever heard it. "Komui, open the door!"

Komui's brotherly instincts went into hyperdrive at the sound of the distress in her voice, and he practically transported himself across the room in .2 seconds. He threw open the door, his heart in his throat, and felt his stomach drop at the sight of twin tear tracks streaming down her face. He hadn't seen her cry in almost a year.

"Lenalee." He said urgently. He was vaguely aware of Link coming to hover, alarmed, over his shoulder, but most of his attention was focused on his little sister. Focused on making it better, whatever had made her cry. He needed to fix it. "What's wrong, Lenalee? What's wrong?"

"It's Allen." She gasped out, grasping the front of his coat in two desperate, clenched fists. "Please, brother, help him. Help him."

Komui grabbed her shoulders and tried to guide her to the chair, but she resisted any attempts to move her. "What's wrong with Allen? What's happened?"

"Bao Lei has him." Lenalee said, and then broke down sobbing.

Allen sat on the bank of the river, his eye closed and his face tilted into the calm breeze as it ruffled his bangs. He had sent Lavi to the market for medicine about thirty minutes ago-which had been much more difficult than expected, actually, the redhead had been oddly reluctant to leave-and five minutes later had locked Kanda in his room. By the time they would be able to react, it would be too late. And that was for the best.

He felt more at peace than he had in a long time, maybe years. He had never been more certain that this was the right thing to do. His mere existence was a curse, a burden on his friends and their lives. If he left, if he removed himself from the picture...

Kanda could finally have the life that he'd never expected that he'd get.

Lavi wouldn't be forced to take the mantle of Bookman.

And most of all, they would be safe.

Footsteps crunched in the grass behind him. For a second he thought it was Lavi, coming to scold him for the stunt he'd just pulled, but then a second pair of footsteps joined the first. They were too heavy to be the Bookman Jr.'s, too-Lavi was far lighter on his feet than anyone would expect, considering his vibrant personality.

"Allen Walker?" A man asked, his voice low and serious.

"You're late." Allen said serenely. "I've been waiting for twenty minutes now. If I hadn't been sitting here waiting for you, would you have found me at all?"

He braced himself. There would be hell to pay for that snarky comment.

Sure enough, a second later one of the men grabbed his neck and his shoulder in a bruising grip, forcing his head into the ground. Allen allowed the manhandling amiably enough, having already decided not to resist.

"Allen Walker, the 14th, you are under arrest for treachery against the Black Order, and murder of both exorcists and civilians in the war against the Millenium Earl." Rough hands forced his arm behind his back, and Allen gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. A cold handcuff clicked as it attached itself to his wrist. "You will be taken to the Black Order in Asia to face judgement from Bao Lei, the true head of the Asian branch. Do you understand?"

Allen shut his eye, the ground cold and grinding against his cheek. This was his choice. He was done running.

This was what he needed to do.

"I understand."