The Devil's Symphony
Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own D. Gray -Man. Not genius enough.
Chapter 1: Familiar Stranger
WARNING: A bit Lenalee OOC. I couldn't get her personality right somehow.
She turned around, a look of confusion plaguing her features as Allen came to a stop in front of her.
"What?"
"The Latitude Music Faculty. Do you know where it is?"
He could see the thorough scrutiny she conducted on him. Her gaze landed on the black prism slung over his back, his violin case. Her gaze moved up to his face immediately. She'd noticed his sentience of her inspection.
Her violet orbs glittered and Allen was dazzled briefly.
A cold wind rushed between them and Allen's eyes stung at the sudden dry coldness.
But the girl didn't even falter at the icy evening wind.
"Are you a violinist?"
He blinked. She was stating the obvious. Then again, not all triangular cases were violin cases… Were they?
"Yes, I am."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"We… Um, they're not expecting any visitors any time soon. What's your name?"
His eyes goggled slightly in confusion. But before he could speak, the features of the ebony haired girl had softened and she spoke softly.
"Goodness, I'm being rude. I should introduce myself first."
Allen raised an eyebrow at the girl's sudden change of disposition but said nothing, signalling her to continue. She understood his mannerism and cleared her throat politely.
"I'm Lenalee Lee. It's nice to meet you. Please call me Lenalee."
Time stopped short, and Allen looked on at the girl who had just told him her name.
'It can't be…'
Her dazzling smile showed itself again and she held out a gloved hand.
Everything around him roared to life once more.
"Ah, I'm Allen Walker. It's nice to meet you too."
She laughed a little. The sound of wind chimes.
He shook her hand. It was warm, comforting, even though there was a layer of thick fabric between her skin and his.
Allen was surprised. It was just a hand. A gloved hand against his own gloved hand.
She beamed at him radiantly and Allen felt heat rushing to his face.
He smiled, catching the mood. He hadn't known someone that contagious could exist.
"Well, I could show you the way there, but there is a little piece of information you should probably know."
She snickered.
"Because if you're just going there to register, you might encounter some trouble."
He looked at her questioningly.
"They don't allow people in just like that. You need to go through a scan and an audition and everything," she said, emphasising heavily on the last word.
She tapped a thin, pale finger against her chin.
"Let's see…"
Allen glanced around him, fidgeting quietly as he waited, trying not to make his anxiousness so obvious.
Then he had an idea. Maybe she was taking longer to think of the registration system because…
"Hey, Lee-san, maybe we could have this conversation elsewhere? This station is pretty crowded, and I'm getting the idea that maybe you might not want people to overhear this piece of information you're about to give me?"
She smiled at him brightly.
"You catch on quickly. But…"
But then a teasingly disgusted look crossed her features, and she pursed her lips, her arms unfolding themselves as her hands rested lightly on her waist.
He looked at her, awed again by the quickly changing moods of this person.
"Who're you calling Lee-san?"
"Eh?"
"My brother is the one you should address as Lee-san. I'm no fan of formalities and I already asked you to call me Lenalee."
She smiled again.
"Besides, I bet you don't want me to call you Walker-san either, right?"
"You're right. I'd prefer to be called by my name."
A grin revealed a perfect set of white teeth.
"Well then, Allen-kun, let's head somewhere else for this story."
The fifteen-year-old nodded, and an amused smile spread across his face, reaching his eyes.
"Yup. It's cold out here. And the temperature will probably drop drastically later with the sunset. So, where to, Lenalee?"
She laughed at his joking demeanour, but played along, sticking her hands in the pockets of her thick jacket. It looked warmer than his.
"Are you a fan of coffee, Allen? There's a nice antique coffee house near the music faculty. It's just a short walk away from there, along the river that runs on this side of town. There's a motel near there too, so you can spend the night near the faculty and apply there tomorrow morning. It'll be starting in about two weeks."
Allen blinked.
'Oh crap. There's still that problem…'
But the snow-haired boy pushed the thought to the back of his mind and smiled.
"Sure. I don't mind caffeine at all, just as long as there's no alcohol. And I don't think I'll be going to the faculty today. It's getting dark. And once again, no alcohol, please."
She raised an eyebrow in query.
"I guess I just don't really fancy alcohol."
He smiled sheepishly.
"Besides, I'm not old enough."
She laughed with the ringing sound of wind chimes again.
"Neither am I!"
"How old are you?"
"Sixteen!"
She grinned at him playfully.
"You?"
He laughed a little, doing a gentlemanly bow.
"I'm fifteen, miss."
"What did I say about the formalities? Did they go in through one ear, and out the other?"
She slapped him playfully on the left arm. He ignored the minor pain that shot up it as a result.
"I feel as if I've known you for a long time, Allen," Lenalee stated casually, staring him in the eyes.
He grinned this time, and she returned the gesture with a giggle which was followed a charming smile of her own.
"Well, let's go then."
-
The cup of mocha fruppacino felt good in his hands. It was warm, but gave off this thick steam that settled lightly around him like a passing mist, carrying the scent of coffee beans and chocolate. The warmth felt good and the boy received it graciously.
He sipped the hot chocolatey liquid lightly, welcoming the continuous warmth that spread through him as he drank.
Lenalee sat across from him and was sipping her cup of black coffee similarly, holding it with her gloved hands, warming them. Her amethyst eyes were calm and tranquil.
He threw a glance her way, noticing for the first time what she was wearing.
Her hair was down for the most part, with two thin pigtails at the sides of her head.
She wore a black and white striped turtleneck and a long khaki overcoat that had black cuffs and, as he'd noticed earlier, her hands were gloved.
He couldn't see what kind of bottom she was wearing, but he was pretty sure she was wearing boots up to her knees.
She was quite pretty too…
He took another sip of coffee, letting the steam warm his face, making it look as if he was flustered from its heat and took his time calming himself down before he spoke again.
"So," he said, setting the mug down on the table, "tell me this important piece of information you have for me."
"Well," she answered, setting down her mug as well, rubbing her gloved hands together before turning to look up at him again with her large wondrous violet orbs, "there's a security system. This system has various stages to it."
Allen nodded, listening intently.
"Well, first is your basic security check. They'll scan you for any form of dangerous device and whatnot. I take it that you'll probably pass that test easily."
She raised an eyebrow, eyeing the boy suspiciously.
"Unless you have a dangerous item?"
Allen answered with a head gesture once more, shaking his head in a very apparent 'no'.
" I've only the clothes on my back, this suitcase, a map and compass, and my violin."
Lenalee nodded and continued, smiling in approval.
"The second part is, if you want to register, that is, that you'll need either a recommendation from an honoured member or one of the mentors there."
The snow haired boy blinked several times, as if he was trying to remember something.
And he did recall.
"I believe my Master sent in an application letter sometime ago. Or so he told me."
"Hmn."
He watched as she propped herself up on her elbow, staring straight into his blue-tinted stone grey eyes.
"Well, whoever your master is, I hope he's someone famous," she replied. However, she did not give him time to reply as she quickly continued on to explain the next subtopic of the conversation without hesitation.
Allen wondered absentmindedly why.
"Do you have any other form of proof?"
Allen raised an eyebrow.
"Proof of your excellence as a musician."
"Er, can't I just play for them then and there?"
The ebony-haired girl shook her head.
"I told you, you need recommendation from a respected member or well-renowned musician."
She sipped at her coffee calmly.
"Besides, they used to listen to those people who wanted to join, but I think some of the top brass had enough of those 'wannabes' as he called them. That was around five to six years ago."
Allen blinked.
"Ah, I mean, I saw him that day, when they threw the last ever person who attempted to join with that method. I think I was ten."
"Oh. Alright then, I really need a favour."
The girl did not raise her lips away from the mouth of the cup of still-steaming coffee; she simply looked up at him with large, questioning eyes.
"Do you know any of the honoured members there?"
She did not answer him. Instead she continued sipping her coffee calmly. What a composed person.
She lifted her lips away from the mug.
Without looking at him, gaze still focused at the contents in her mug, she said quietly, "I can guess what you're getting at."
"Oh?"
She looked him straight in the eye again, smiling this time, but her stare was deadly, intense.
"I won't help you."
Allen looked at her in disbelief.
What a fierce stare, too. It was almost mean of her.
(Lenalee thought to herself, 'I'm spending too much time around Lavi…")
"Just kidding!"
She burst out in a fit of giggles and Allen continued to stare in amazement at her. What a carefree person.
And a convincing actor at the same time, too.
"Oh, come on. I'm not that terrible."
She smiled at him gently.
"I'd like to help. But I can't."
She shook her head, a forlorn smile on her face.
"I just know how the system works, since I've seen it so many times."
Allen pondered this momentarily and inquired politely.
"How could you have seen it if you've never been in there before?"
He watched as she calmly sipped her coffee once more.
"They do these checks outside of the place itself, for safety purposes," she paused, lifting the mouth of the mug to her lips, "After all; they can't risk someone assassinating a student."
Allen's eyes widened at her words.
"People attempt to assassinate the students?!"
"Well, what did you expect? The place is filled with world class musicians who are practically bulldozing the entirety of the world's classical music industry full-speed-ahead. They're taking the world by storm."
The boy went silent, contemplating the girl's words. His eyes wandered down to the chocolate coloured fruppacino that sat on the table, waiting to be drunk.
"Um, who's going to pay?"
She was trying to change the subject.
He sighed so softly that it was almost inaudible to he himself.
He looked up warily and watched as her breath came out in cloudy wisps of steam.
"I will. After all, the ladies shouldn't pay for something like a coffee when there's a guy accompanying them."
He smiled at her and she giggled.
He raised the mug to his own lips and drank. It was a pretty favourable temperature in the shop; not too hot, not too cold.
"Well, then, please excuse me."
She smiled at him sincerely in reply.
He carefully set the mug of mocha fruppacino down on the marble tabletop and got up from where he sat, hoisting his violin over his shoulder.
As soon as he had reached the cashier, though, and asked for the bill for the purchases made by the customers at table 8, a stubby finger instantly shot up to point rudely at him right in the face.
"YOU!"
Allen raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me..?"
He did not answer the snow-haired boy's question.
Instead, the man punched furiously on the cash register and the little drawer slid out.
Allen was bewildered. Was there some sort of curfew to pay for the purchases made and he was late to pay for his meal or something?
"Um, sir, what're you…"
The corpulent man smashed a very long bill down on the counter.
'Oh no.'
"You are this boy, right?"
Allen watched in utter torment as the shopkeeper pulled out another piece of paper.
And this was the five hundred and sixty-ninth time he'd faced this kind of situation, seen the familiar hand drawing.
He slapped his hand to his forehead. He couldn't possibly repay the shopkeeper the debt now.
Especially since Lenalee was waiting. It was so embarrassing.
'A ludicrous imbecile of a master I have. I doubt he's anyone who's respected by the people at the music faculty…'
Allen sighed heavily.
"I'm terribly sorry for my master's behaviour, sir…"
Much to his utter surprise, the stout man smiled at him, completely snapped out of his rage.
This town was just full of peculiar people.
Not that he was complaining.
"I'll forgive you. At least you bothered to apologize, even on your master's behalf. It's not your fault. But, he did address the payment to you, and I really need that money for the shop. We're running short on good supplies. I can't buy the better quality ingredients if I don't have enough money. They tend to be more expensive."
He just stared at the man. So the peculiar people here were friendlier than the other places he'd been forced to work off his Master's debts before, too…
"Alright then sir, what would you like me to do to compensate for the money he owes you? Or would you like me to pay you back in cash?"
The man massaged his temples.
"No, that would take too long. Instead, I would like you to attract customers to the shop while I run out and get some more supplies."
Allen began to protest, but the rotund shopkeeper stopped him short before he could even start.
He gestured to the bill that lay on the table.
"You see, it isn't all that much. The thing is, he bought a lot of the cheaper coffee sets. So, it'd satisfy me enough to pay for both your meal with the lady there and your master's debt simply by attracting some customers here."
He nodded at the black violin case slung over Allen's back loosely.
"You're a violinist right?"
The white-haired boy was suddenly in a tight spot.
"I'm not allowed to use this violin in public…"
"Oh? How odd. But don't worry. Run down to the shop opposite this one. The one called the Devil's Symphony. You'll get to rent the violin free. Just remember to say that I, Mr Bentley, sent you over. I'll give you as long as you like to pick out a violin."
The rotund man smiled at him.
"You're not afraid I'm going to run off without paying?"
"You don't look the type to suddenly run out on a guy. Or a debt, in this case. And besides," he nodded in Lenalee's direction, "that girl will be waiting."
Allen looked curiously at him, seeming not to notice his recent statement.
"Okay…Why so long just to borrow a violin though? I don't think any of the violins there aren't tuned either…"
The man simply chuckled to himself.
"You'll see."
Allen did not question further.
"A-Alright… Let me leave my violin with my friend. Then I'll head over to that shop you mentioned."
As Allen scooted over to the table he and Lenalee had been having coffee at moments before, his mind pondered the atypical friendliness of the people in that country.
"Lenalee, Lenalee! Can you help me take care of my violin for about ten to fifteen minutes? I have to… er… run an errand…"
She acted clueless, but a sense of knowledge over the whole situation lingered in her tone.
"Sure. Be back soon. I'll just sit tight and wait for you."
Allen thanked her, and bounded off in the direction of the entrance.
Once outside, he hastened across the street towards the quiet looking violin shop opposite.
And as he walked, he noticed the eerie silence of the derelict alley-like street.
But it was pretty bright, in spite of the time and season, and the grey cobblestones that paved the sidewalk and the gravel that covered the road pretty much gleamed in the dim sunlight; the leaves had been raked and put in piles at the side of the roads and sidewalks. The small rocks had been laid out on the road as a precaution, for tar was slippery in the rainy season. They made a scrunching noise under his feet as he moved and he felt a bit more comforted by the fact that there was some form of noise besides his lonely footsteps.
He arrived at the glass doors of the antique violin shop, and stepped gingerly inside. There was a rush of icy wind as he entered, colder than the temperature of the outside air.
Allen considered this. It was probably because the rain clouds had shifted away to let some rays of warm sunlight comfort his frostbitten senses when he had been outside.
The scent of polished wood and horsehair filled his lungs as he looked around, delving deeper into the shop.
It was the aroma of classical music.
Said instruments lined the walls, hung splendidly in neat, labelled rows that were organised with four of each type of instrument in a row.
At the centre of the shop stood a large grand piano on a risen platform.
"Um, hello? The coffee shop owner asked me to borrow a violin from here…"
His voice rang through the empty silence at a volume magnified by the barrenness of the room.
No one answered and Allen wandered over to the seat in front of the large grand piano, running his fingers over the ivory white keys, the smooth feel of each individual key setting off a tingling sensation in his fingers.
They were eager to play.
"Yes, how may I help you, young man?"
Allen had only given the man a fleeting look, before, quick as a flash, he was on his feet.
"Um, Mr Bentley from the café sent me over, the one on the opposite side of the street?"
"Ah yes. Whatever for, young lad?"
Allen tensed up, nervous that the balding man might reject his request for its reason.
But he refused to lie.
"Well, you see, I went down to Mr Bentley's shop for some coffee with a friend; to talk some things over…"
Allen drifted off, his mind wandering easily to Lenalee, the girl he'd just met. Her beautiful, enchanting violet eyes and that entrancing smile…
The old man laughed, pulling Allen out of his reverie.
"Is she your girlfriend, or your 'friend'?"
Allen turned bright red.
"W-What? N-No! I just met her today and asked for a favour to…" he trailed off a second time, not thinking about the fact that he hadn't mentioned Lenalee to the old man.
Allen shut his eyes, trying to concentrate.
This was not time to be thinking or talking about things like that!
Nor was it time to go into details about it with this old man.
"I'm just an old man. I shouldn't pry."
The fifteen-year-old looked up to find the old man smiling.
"Well then, what did you come here for then, lad?"
"I came to borrow a violin."
The old man's eyes widened in disbelief.
"What…?"
Allen scratched the back of his neck tensely.
"My master owes Mr Bentley a lot of money… And apparently, he has this terrible habit of passing those debts on to me. Since I'm a violinist, Mr Bentley asked me if I could attract customers to his shop with some music. But I can't use my violin in public; master's orders."
Allen's gaze dropped to the floor.
It was so shameful to have a master like that. Practically everything his master did was at his expense. Especially his income.
A loud laugh escaped the old man.
"I know someone who's exactly like that! Except, he doesn't have an apprentice; he leaves his debts for his friends and the organisation he works for instead, as far as I know."
Allen blinked in surprise.
But then the old man's tone changed.
Again with the strange changes in mood of the townsfolk.
"I'll lend you a violin," he said, a warning in his tone, "but you have to prove to me that you know how to play."
He smiled warmly. And Allen just stared.
"You will play first violin for the first part of the Devil's Trill by Guiseppe Tartini, with me on second violin?"
"W-What…?"
'That's a really hard piece! And I haven't seen the score enough times to remember the fingering!"
The old man retreated into the shadows, returning with two violin cases.
He handed one to Allen.
"This one is a full size. It should fit you."
Lifting the 300-year old violin out of its case, he smiled at the snow-haired boy who could only stare at him in shock.
He'd never expected something like that.
"Try the violin, lad. If it fits, and you pass my little test of course, you can borrow it."
A/N: Alright, that's all for this chapter. (: Sorry for the late update.