Chapter 8: Mission LITERALLY Impossible

"!"

Win tore at her hair in frustration, the straw that broke the camel's back having been turned into a huge, several ton boulder that not only broke the poor camel's (in this case, Win's) back but rather crushed its spine into a fine powder and squashed it into jelly.

"You vile, insufferable, pompous, self-absorbed bastard!"

She attempted to slap (the stuffing out of) him, but he grabbed her wrist, shoving it away with an ill-mannered swat of his hand.

"Shut up."

It was to a brilliant shade of red that Win's face colored. In the space of two seconds.

"Don't you DARE! You, Kanda, are worse than akuma! I hate you! I HAVE NEVER MET ANYONE WHO SO PERFECTLY CAPTURED THE MEANING OF 'ASSHOLE!' YOUR PICTURE MUST BE IN THE DEFINITION IN THE DICTIONARY! AND YOUR NAME WOULD HAVE 'IDIOTIC,' 'MORONIC,' 'BRUTISH,' AND 'BASTARD' LISTED AS SYNONYMS!"

"Grab the goats."

Win's face was beyond scarlet now, it was quickly growing into a horrible shade of blackcurrant as she struggled to speak, so angry as she was.

"DON'T TELL ME TO GRAB THE GOATS, YOU INSUFFERABLE BASTARD! GRAB THE DAMN GOATS YOURSELF! I'M NOT GRABBING THE DAMN-"

She suddenly screamed as a very old, mean billy goat that had taken to following her around-it was a mottled, light-colored one that blended in with the sand around them-butted her with his obnoxious horns. Kanda ignored her entirely, proceeding, instead to remove the grayish-beige abundance of coarse fabric that he had wrapped around his body.

"Either grab the goats, or die with them. I don't care either way."

Win pointed an accusing finger-she was beyond blackcurrant colored now, in fact, she had become so purple she was becoming pale and was now a nasty shade of puce-in his direction and then faltered when she looked right past him and saw what had quickly become, upon entering this godforsaken country, her worst nightmare. She shrieked.

"SANDSTORM!"

Kanda forced himself not to react to her stupidity and continued methodically staking his cloak of sorts down into the sand. Win quickly removed her own and layered it over his, grabbing goats by the scruff of the neck in a panic and forcing them to lay down, pushing their little heads under the makeshift fabric tent. The old billy goat was last, and he did not go without a fight. When at last the damn goat was safe, Win stuck her own head into the tent, just as Kanda did. They both held onto the fabric as an extra precaution-if it were taken by the winds, they would die in the storm. Win glared at Kanda's head, the only part of him that she could see.

"I hate you."

The Japanese swordsman closed his eyes briefly and muttered something in Japanese. Win narrowed her eyes at him.

"What was that?"

He glared at her just as icily and opened his mouth to reply when the storm was literally upon them, and any sound that could have come out of his mouth was lost in the buffeting winds. Win growled to herself and then stopped, quite suddenly, when she realized which goat was right next to her.

"Awwww, man! Why on earth did it have to be-"

The mottled, aging billy-goat butted the side of her head rather ferociously before proceeding to belch so loudly that it was heard very clearly in the tent. Win turned green.

"Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew. That is so disgusting."

The look on Kanda's face clearly suggested that he blamed her for everything. Win nearly stuck her tongue out at him but then thought the better of it and settled for glaring at him before closing her eyes wearily. It was cold, very cold outside. And her weird robe thing was being used to help filter sand out of the air so that she, Kanda, and the goats could breathe. Why the hell was a country that bordered Russia and got the best of the freaking Siberian gales a freaking desert. And when it wasn't a desert, it was mountains.

"I hate Komui. That bastard. Why the hell did he have to send me to Kazakhstan with him?"

The stupid, mottled old billy goat made some horrid, mottled little noise and then, suddenly, all of the previously docile goats snapped to alertness and started bleating. Kanda glared at Win, once again, as though it were entirely her fault. She held her breath for a moment, trying to keep her temper in check, and then a chorus of belching met her ears.

And just like that, the sandstorm had passed and Win was trying to rip the cloaks off of them, desperate for fresh, relatively, at least, air, scowling at the incredibly awful feeling of sand in her jacket, down her tank top, up her shorts. She shuddered. She was never going anywhere near sand again. Never. Never.

Before she could properly settle down to mope, though, Kanda was unsheathing his sword and akuma were practically raining down upon them. Win shot the sky a withering look, her claws out and already slashing through akuma.

"I hate life."

It was a constant occurrence indeed, being attacked, and when at last Kanda and Win had beat down the horde that had come upon them, they decided (silently, without speaking or communicating in any way) that it was time to set up camp. Which consisted, essentially, of wrapping their robes tighter around themselves and taking turns sleeping sitting upright, back to back, in case they were once again ambushed. The goats had taken to cuddling up next to them, sharing their warmth. Well, they had with Kanda. The only goat that would go near Win after she had been introduced by an incredibly irate, unwilling Kanda as his wife (they had been told to pose as a married couple of goat-herders by Komui) was the mean, mottled billy-goat. Every time she started to fall asleep as she was supposed to during Kanda's watch, the damned goat had butted her awake. The only high point of the evening was that Kanda had first watch. So she could sleep…right? The billy-goat bleated at her, it's eyes gleaming in the darkness.

Daine's heart thudded in her chest as she tried to minimize the damage she was taking from the huge snake-shaped column of fire that made up Lavi's Fire Stamp. He was honest to God trying to kill her. She cried out a little and patted away the flames that had caught the hem of her dress, nursing her burnt arm as she leapt back.

Where had her teacher gone? She couldn't see him in all the smoke-half of the damn training room seemed to be on fire. She suddenly snapped back, eyes alight, when she heard the slightest rustling of fabric. They had been training, if you could call it that, for days. Rather, Daine had managed to survive for days, and now she was suffering from actually sharpened senses-perhaps it was desperation, but she had in fact improved.

She stumbled around just in time to use the palm of her hand to slightly change the trajectory of Lavi's hammer-it only bruised her shoulder now, as opposed to breaking her ribs-and proceeded to scramble back, her breathing hard. Just as quickly, the hammer was retracted and Lavi came at her in a hand to hand style.

"Dammit-"

He was going to kill her. He was seriously going to kill her. She winced as he grabbed her wrist, thereby stopping her punch and incapacitating her. She swung her bare leg upwards and landed a solid kick at his ribs, causing him to let go-mainly in surprise-and giving her an opening in which to come at him again. She tried a rather wild haymaker in his direction but was kicked into and then through a wall. She struggled to sit up, but Lavi tackled her to the floor and pinned her down. She kicked him off as best she could, and while she didn't succeed in sending him flying, she certainly managed to get him off. She bolted back into the training room but was struck by the power of the blow she received from his hammer and fell. Rolling onto her back, she managed to make it just in time to scramble away from another hammer blow, heaving herself to her feet, her breathing heavy, her limbs like lead. Lavi raised his hammer again, his smile as absent as it had been for the past few days, a fatal glint in his eye.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Allen was shocked at the state of the training room. It was in absolute shambles. Not only that-Daine's condition shocked him. She looked as though she had been literally fighting for her life-how could Lavi be so irresponsible? When had she last eaten or slept? Win was going to kill him! Was that the roof on fire?

"Lavi!"

The redhead was ignoring him entirely, opting instead to go in for the kill, hammer poised for a thunderous swing. Daine backed up as quick as she could, stepping almost nimbly to the side to avoid another blow, sacrificing feeling in her hands for a few minutes in favor of redirecting the blow with her palms-this time, it didn't touch her.

"LAVI!"

Allen grabbed the red head and forced him back, innocence invocated in the blink of an eye. The red head nearly brushed him off but then stopped struggling as Allen dragged him away from Daine, who watched her teacher carefully as Allen subdued him, a sense of awareness, caution instilled in her from their training.

"You're going to kill her!"

The redhead watched his pupil like a hawk.

"Exactly."

There was absolutely no joking in that tone, and Allen heard it just as well as Daine did. He, however, wasn't made aware of the reasoning behind what he assumed to be madness. Without warning, Lavi lunged out of Allen's grip and nearly flattened Daine with a lightning blow of his hammer. She had barely managed to redirect it, and Lavi paused, the slightest glimmer of curiosity in his eyes before he attacked her again. Allen watched, horrified.

"Lavi, stop!"

Allen grabbed hold of Lavi once more and this time made sure to keep him subdued.

"Stop it!"

The white-haired teen struggled to keep his friend captive and then they had company.

"LAVIIIIIIIII! DAIIIIIINE! Have you made any progress with your training?"

Komui, blissfully unaware of everything that had been going on for the past few days but having been vaguely briefed by Bookman, strolled in and stopped, surveying the damage.

"What happened here?"

Allen opened his mouth to answer but Daine rather shakily beat him to it.

"Training."

Komui looked at her for a moment-taking in the burns she was nursing, and the bruises-then turning his attention to the room-burning ceiling included. Allen looked as if he were about to protest something, but Komui silenced him with a look.

"Clean up, Daine. You and Lavi have a mission."

Allen was shocked, not only because Komui had told Win that he was keeping Daine back until it was clear what effect the union of her innocence had on her abilities, but because the man was so blatantly disregarding the fact that Lavi had seemingly become some bloodthirsty monster. In Allen's opinion, at least. Honestly, it looked like he was really, truly trying to kill her.

Lavi nodded and shrunk his hammer back down to size, looked at Daine very seriously and said, "we'll come back to this later." He then proceeded to hug-attack her, sweep her off her feet, and carry her off to God knows where, leaving a panicking Allen and an amused Komui in his wake. Daine had blinked at him blearily for a moment, tense, and then all of a sudden passed out. Allen turned on Komui.

"You can't be serious!"

The chief nodded absentmindedly.

"Of course I am. Exorcists can't simply walk about in tattered training clothes. What kind of image would that send to the Millennium Earl and the Noah? We're not barbarians!"

Allen blanched. Komui was, in his mind, entirely missing the point.

"Lavi was trying to kill her!"

Komui shrugged.

"They were training."

It was true. He hadn't much liked the concept when Bookman had explained it, but he was able to understand where the use of it might be-it was, though hardly better, still the superior alternative to leaving Daine to learn her limits on the field. Maybe Lavi was trying to kill her, but he didn't think that the redhead would actually go through with it. If he had truly wanted to kill her, to really kill her, he could have easily done it with his Combo Stamp in a single move. No, he was training her, but he wasn't taking it easy on her. And that was exactly what she needed, perhaps, in order to truly gain control of her innocence. It's adaptability was the heart and soul of it-for however long she had fought Lavi, she had been living through her fight or flight instincts-and Win wasn't there to save her. The theory behind the entire affair was that by fighting Lavi nonstop with her life on the line (as far as she was concerned, perhaps), her innocence would awaken in an attempt to protect her.

"How's that, sweetie?"

Daine rolled her eyes at Lavi.

"I look like a mummy, sensei."

He grinned at her, the same old Lavi he'd always been. Daine exhaled, resolutely not feeling dejected. They had "trained" for days without pause, and yet, Daine hadn't shown any signs of any sort of offensive innocence. She had tried, after Win had left and Lavi had declared their lessons begun, to lend him power, but it had been an excruciating failure. She had felt the concentration in her hand when she gave it to him, but instead of the usual easy transfer that left her with her eyes closing, her knees weak, she had received a shock that was strong enough to knock her unconscious and she was violently sick for days afterwards, numb to touch, with faltering eyesight, with her nerves set alight.

It was for this reason that they had not started the "training" until well after Kanda and Win had (begrudgingly) sent back a preliminary report (that mainly consisted of complaints, insults, and death threats) that announced that they had made it to Kazakhstan and were searching for the innocence. Daine had wondered briefly if there had been some sort of error in the encryption-it said they were goat herders, husband and wife, no less.

"So, where'll Daine and I be heading, Chief?"

Komui sighed irritably and pushed forth a little file and a bag of money.

"Damascus."

Both teacher and pupil (as they had laughingly taken to calling themselves, mainly as a joke) surreptitiously glanced at one another in surprise, but the excitement in Daine's eyes was infectious and Lavi found himself grinning.

"Damascus is considered to be one of the oldest cities in the world. Been inhabited since 2000 BC, right? Southwestern Syria, here we come~"

Komui rolled his eyes at Lavi's fact-spouting and cut him off before it was too late.

"Yes, you are going to Damascus. There have been reports of innocence there that I want you to investigate. Retrieve it if you can. And do try to blend in with the locals, yes?"

They were words that Komui might have come to regret, but his next cemented his misery even further.

"You will be staying at the best hotel in the entire city, as it is large enough that your presence will be easily overlooked and it is the closest to where our Finders report innocence activity. You will behave-"

He glanced at Lavi specifically here, causing the redhead's grin to widen.

"And above all, you must blend in. Don't let anyone know who you are or why you're there. Contact us when you arrive."

Lavi nodded.

"Sure, Chief."

He sniggered suddenly, taking Daine's arm in his, patting her hand.

"You'll have to stick close, dear, because you are my favorite wife. Apparently, I have six."

Daine shot him a bizarre, perplexed look and he waved the folder at her.

"Come on, honey, we have work to do. STRIKE!"

They had been in the desert for three weeks before they at last reached the mountains. Win was beyond exhausted. The mountains were exactly as inhospitable as the desert, and she had quickly come to terms with the fact that these mountains were dry. She had been aching to find a pond or something to bathe in-her white hair had turned blonde from all the damn sand! If that wasn't simply the most awful thing in the world-her head seriously felt heavy-then she and Kanda found the damn innocence. In the stupid, mottled old damn billy goat. It had apparently caught onto its horn at some point in the damn thing's "youth" and the horn had grown around it and hidden it from view.

"No wonder the bloody akuma were after us!"

It all made sense to Win, and she was honestly considering slaying the goat right then and there and having some form of barbecue. It was the damn thing's fault she couldn't sleep, that she was Kanda's wife, that she was stuck in freaking Kazakhstan!

Kanda's thoughts, radiating the same, if not exponentially more bloodlust, were in a different direction. This goat had been given them as part of their "herd." It had traveled across the desert with him. It had forced him to suffer three weeks of needless traveling in horrible (even for Kanda) conditions. It had forced him to pose as the annoying pig woman's husband (as if he would ever marry that) and it had all been needless. The damn innocence had been with them all along. And that irritated the hell out of the Japanese man. Komui was going to die, and that one was no threat, but a promise.

They were thankfully able to leave the mountains at least, but either way, it was still three weeks of desert before they reached the town in which they would send word to the Order, and that meant another three weeks of hell.

They rested for the evening, once again sleeping back to back, taking turns with watching, and in the morning-after surviving yet another sandstorm-they began their horrible journey back. Win hadn't even known it was possible for something that bad to become worse. There was so much sand on her-no matter how much she tried to shake it off-that she felt heavier, weighed down by the sheer amount of it that was hidden in her clothes, in her hair, rubbing roughly along her skin. She shuddered. Sand. She hated sand.

They were attacked literally fifty-three times by akuma. Literally. And now that they knew where the innocence lay, they were forced to defend the goat. The damn goat. Speaking of said nasty old billy goat…Win screwed up her face, glaring at the man in front of her.

"I buy goat. I BUY GOAT! What the hell do you think waving money in your face and pointing at the damn goat means, you idiot! ARGH, WHY DON'T YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?"

The man glared at her, reiterating his point in his own native tongue.

"He is a prize-winning goat. He is worth more than any amount of money you can offer me, you brazen wench! Leave my house at once, foul pig woman. I do not associate with whores who walk with their faces so audaciously uncovered, and I certainly do not sell my prize goat to such shameless wenches! Your husband does not beat you often enough! Leave!"

Win didn't understand his words, but she understood his tone, and she was fuming.

"YOU BLOODY BASTARD, SELL ME THE GOAT OR-"

She was stopped by the man's suddenly terrified expression. She glanced behind her and saw an irate Kanda. The swordsman grabbed the front of the man's shirt.

"Sell us the goat. Now."

Mission LITERALLY Impossible/End.