The bean sprout and I sat like that for a long time after our love confessions. He leaned against me, and I held him protectively. My eyes were closed, as were his, and our hearts beat in a single rhythm together instead of beating separate ones. We were happy, at peace, and tranquil. I never wanted the moment to end.

But it did, in one of the worst, most unexpected of ways.

Allen started screaming. Just as the day he told me about the voices in his head, he screeched, crumpling down from the bed and onto the floor, his head in his hands, assuming the fetal position. I was terrified, even if my facial expression only showed a bit of worry and surprise – which, as I've been told, looks like an expression of anger on my face. I leaned next to him, his cries now mixed with sobs. Every sound escaping from his lips sounded pained.

And I had no idea what to do. What should I do? What could I do? I didn't even know what was going on!

Several minutes passed, and his body went completely limp, his lips no longer emitting any sound. He was completely silent. I panicked slightly, lifting him and laying him on his bed, laying my ear over his chest, listening. His heart was still beating, to my relief, but it was weak. Extremely weak. His breathing was shallow, and, like his heartbeat, was barely even there. I sat beside him, waiting, hoping for him to wake up. I would take him to the infirmary, but his skin would cause a lot of alarm, and who knows what the Order would do to him if they saw him like this. So, somewhat impatiently, I sat. I ran my fingers through his hair. I cradled my head in my hands helplessly.

There was nothing that I could do, and it was incredibly painful for me to know that. There was nothing at all that I could do except wait and hope. So I did.

Hours passed. Then a day. Then a week. And still, he showed no sign of waking. When people asked if I knew where he was, I simply said that he was sick. It wasn't entirely a lie. I just couldn't give them the whole truth. I couldn't tell them that he was almost completely gray and had fallen into some kind of coma. The questions and solutions that would arise from them were too bothersome and worrisome for me to even want to think about dealing with.

Every day, they asked. And every day, I said the same thing.

Every day, I sat by his side. Waiting. Praying for a miracle.

Finally, a week and two days after Allen had fallen into his strange slumber, I noticed something. A twitch in his right arm. I was thrilled! I trembled, hope dangerously welling up inside my heart. I gently shook his shoulder.

"…Allen…?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper. His eyes flickered, but… something was different. His right eye was now gold. "Allen?" I asked again, fear beginning to well up along with the wretched hope. His eyes moved, slowly casting their gaze on me. Then, he smiled.

"Allen? I'm not Allen. Allen's asleep ."

His statement made me feel angry. "Allen, stop messing around!"

"I told you, I'm not Allen. He's asleep."

"I'm really not in the mood for this kind of crap, short-stack," I growled back.

"I'm not messing around, Mr. Exorcist," he stated in a playful, somewhat malevolent manner. "Or are you too stupid to get that?"

Fear begins to well up in me as I begin to believe what he says – after all, his manner and tone are nothing like the shorty's. "Then who are you, if you're not Allen?" I growl, standing and stepping a little away from him.

"Finally getting it? Good boy! Old dogs really canlearn new tricks!" the boy giggles. "I'm glad. I don't really like to take a lot of time getting stupid people to understand things." He grins at my scowl. "My name is Neah. I'm the fourteenth, and last, of the Noah clan. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Exorcist." The boy stands from the bed, looking in the mirror.

"Ooooh! Lookie, lookie! My skin is sooo pretty. Aww, and look at the scars," he states, inspecting his wrists. "Poor Allen must have had it rough to make these. Not that I care." He looks back over to me. "Yes, this body does quite nicely, I think. I can't wait to have full control over it. Then I can finally return to my family. Too bad for you guys, you'll be losing Allen very, very soon!" He chuckles again, and I bite my lip, glaring. He notices and sticks his tongue out.

"Aww, why the long face, Mr. Exorcist? You don't like that? Well, isn't that just too bad?" He laughs, twirling around a little. "Poor Mr. Exorcist doesn't like that Allen's body is going to be my body. So, sooo sad! He must like Allen a whole lot!"

Having had enough, I slam the so-called Noah possessing my bean sprout down on the bed, pinning him. "Give him back!" I yell at him. "Give Allen back!" The boy makes a pouty face, sighing.

"Fiiiiiiiiiiiiine. I was getting sleepy, anyway. This won't be the last we meet, Mr. Exorcist! Next time, let's play a game! A game called kill the Exorcist!" he laughs, before closing his eyes, seeming to fall asleep, and then his eyes open again. And I'm sure that this one is Allen when his face burns red and he gazes up at me with unsure, somewhat fearful eyes.

"K-Kanda…? What… What are you doing…?" he asks. I blush as well when I realize that I'm straddling him, pinning his hands by his wrists above his head. I quickly get off of him, looking away.

"S-Sorry… You weren't yourself…" He seems confused by this statement, and I sigh, deciding to elaborate.

"You remember when you first told me that you were becoming a Noah, and how I didn't believe you…?"

"Yeah…?" he questions, worry filling his now mismatched orbs of Silver and Gold.

"Well… I believe you now."

"Why?"

"Because I just spoke with the Noah living inside of you."

I felt that Neah had to be a total a-hole. Just saying.

Well, anyways, this chapter was fun. Ish. It was a bit difficult, because I couldn't decide on how I wanted Neah to act at first. But I feel that this kind of character suits him. Let me know what you think, and as always, for any comments, thoughts, or suggestions, please review!